Do you know what the first big movie novelisation was? Were they ever a big cultural force or just something that existed but no one really cared about?
Before I go into the history of the novelization (and its cousin, the comic adaptation), let me give a couple of recommendations of a few that are better than the movie itself or are just worth reading: Peter David’s novelization of Return of Swamp Thing turned a just-okay so-so movie I forgot the instant I left the theater into something very beautiful, poignant, charming and wonderful. It was all little tweaks, tiny little nudges that made individual moments that fell flat turn into something that worked. It’s amazing how few changes he made to make this story the best possible version of itself, though there were some things the novelization had that made it brilliant and surreal and even experimental, like for instance, Peter David made Alan Moore, Swamp Thing writer, an actual character in the story itself, a clerk at a motel who makes creepy and cryptic foreshadowing comments all through the story.
The novelization of the “meh” Jaws rip-off Orca by Arthur Herzog is a great book because it a tight thriller that gets us right into the head of the orca whale who wants to kill the whaler who murdered his family. Scenes that were maudlin are very moving in prose, with a whale mourning her dead baby and mate, and the hunter is even more tragic when we get into his head and see his remorse. It was like the whale started to represent his guilt. By contrast, the only part of the movie I remember is when the killer whale sets fire to an entire town.
The novelization of the Flash Gordon movie is extraordinary because it contains explicit sex scenes. The talk is that it was based on an extremely horny early script for the film where it was a European scifi sexploitation romp like Barbarella or Lexx. Hahahaha, can you just imagine being some eleven year old who bought Flash Gordon because he liked the cool space movie only to find a chapter with a blowjob scene in a seraglio?
The whole idea behind Buckaroo Banzai: Across the Eighth Dimension is that it’s actually part 7 of a long running movie series that doesn’t exist, so there are lots of “hey, look, it’s him!” cameos to people we never saw before and tons of lore that just sat in the background. Buckaroo Banzai is a test I use to see if someone’s sense of humor is compatible with mine. So it stands to reason that the novelization, which is more information rich, is a delight for fans of the series. It’s like the only expanded universe product for something that never got an expanded universe. It has details like the fact that Pecos (briefly mentioned as being in Tibet in the film) is actually one of the few Hong Kong Cavaliers to be a woman, and she was in Tibet searching for Buckaroo’s archenemy Hanoi Xan.
While I wouldn’t say that the novelization of Star Trek: the Motion Picture is better than the movie, exactly, it was written by Gene Roddenberry himself, and had one especially weird fourth wall breaking passage that seemed to be a shout out to the slash-writers, where Captain Kirk says “hey, I don’t know where this idea comes from, but I am super-straight, you guys, seriously. I am only attracted to women.” The novelization also was interesting in that we learned a bit more about Lieutenant Ilea’s empathic powers, which are fundamentally non-visual and we only got a vague sense of in the film. She received emotional signals very much like Deanna Troi later would, and she was not only a receiving empath but a projecting one: we learned that Mr. Sulu, from a less sexually evolved race than Deltans, couldn’t stop picture her naked.
Finally, getting back to Peter David again, who is like the Phillip K. Dick or Michelangelo of this medium, his novelization of Spider-Man 3 is better than the movie. Moments that fail in the book work there.
As for the history of the novelization, you have to try to imagine a world where you can’t see a movie whenever you want to. You can only see it when it’s in theaters for a few weeks or when it comes on TV years later. Therefore, novelizations and comic adaptations are designed to replicate the experience of going to the theater. In that sense, they’re almost a relic, technologically speaking, of a time before video and on demand. Fun fact: in the late 1970s, Marvel Comics had a ton of cash problems, and the only thing keeping the lights on was the money made by movie adaptations of things like Logan’s Run.
Novelizations are extremely old: they go back to the 1920s, and one interesting example is the 1925 Tod Browning film London After Midnight, a horror film that no copies of exist at all and is a “lost film,” but because of the novelization (and a ton of still images during production), we nonetheless know what the plot of the movie is pretty well, to the point that the London After Midnight vampire is almost as iconic as other monsters, despite the fact no one has seen the actual film in decades.
To directly answer your question, the first big book novelization was actually for King Kong in 1933 by Delos Lovelace, which came out the year the movie did. The public went mad for King Kong and the book sold in the millions. It cemented the idea that the novelization is a pretty standard tie-in for a film release, and it’s the most important tie in novel ever written.
A couple weeks later, realizing that snapped wands were too powerful of a weapon, our DM concocted a method for Bear’s return. He took her player into a side room at the beginning of the session and nothing seemed to come of it for some time. The player just drew pictures while we hunted and fought a Remorhaz in the snowy mountain caves. DM: Alright, and with that barrage of psionic arrows from Nomad, the Remorhaz is almost dead. (waits) Ahem, I said, ‘the Remorhaz is almost dead.’ Bear: Oh, right. Bear rips off the Remorhaz’s jaw from inside while growling fiercely as blood and brains rain down upon her. She then reaches back casually into its throat to grab her battle axe. Cleric: “What, the? By the Light of Pelor, where have you been?” Bear: “Bear no know. Bear got hot. Then scary guy make promise with Bear to return to her sorcerer.” Sorcerer (while actually crying a little): He’s stunned, dumbstruck, jaw open and staring. “I never thought I’d see you again.” Bear: I hug and lift the sorcerer. “You are my sorcerer. Bear always protect her sorcerer.” And she did all the way until the end of the campaign a couple months later.
Let's say a character has his lower jaw ripped and tore from his body. Could he survive it? I know one of the main issue will be the bleeding but are there any others? And is there a way to fix them? Thank you Auntie!
There are a lot of issues at play here. The jaw has a lot of strong muscular connections to the rest of the head, including the tongue – the number one way the body defends the airway. There’s also, as you mentioned, a significant amount of bleeding to contend with.
So if this happens, he runs a real risk of drowning in his own blood. He also runs the risk of never being able to chew again.
Could it be survived? History says yes; people have survived having their jaws ripped off before.
Will it be easy? Fuck no.
Even if the jaw itself is set back into an appropriate position, what’s going to be really difficult is getting the muscles and nerves to heal in such a way as being able to work appropriately in the future. Plus there’s whatever damage actually occurs to the jaw.
This is not a one-and-done surgery. This is multiple surgeries, likely lasting hours, and likely with results that will land the character with lasting difficulty speaking, chewing, and swallowing.
This is a character who will be in the hospital and/or rehab for quite some time, and may be fed through their nose for a very, very long time indeed.
Again: it’s not the bone itself that’s the problem. It’s telling the very complicated and numerous muscles what to do, and having them be able to follow the commands.
The rocking of the boat made you sick. Your wrists ached from the tight bonds that also latched around your ankles, holding you in a hunched position that made your lower back throb. The man tied next to you was still as stone, skin pale.
“Jonathan,” You whispered, nudging him with your shoulder. “Jonathan, wake up.”
He didn’t move, a new ache appeared. This time in your throat as you swallowed down the urge to cry.
“Jonathan, please,” You whimpered and pushed against him harder.
He remained still. Dead. Cold. Destined to be thrown in the sea when the pagans realized he no longer breathed.
The back of your neck prickled in discomfort. You twisted your neck to find yourself caught in the glare of two startling blue eyes. The cripple. You immediately turned away, staring straight forward, trying not to think of Jonathan next to you.
The shuffling behind you caused an anxious shudder to roll up your spine and lodge in your throat. The sound of dragging drew closer until it situated itself next to you. The smell of tangy blood filled your nostrils, the urge to vomit was strong.
“He’s dead?” The crippled pagan asked.
You turned your head away from him to look at Jonathan. The quiver in your lip was answer enough for him. He spit out a harsh command in his native language and nodded towards Jonathan.
You watched helplessly as two more pagans grabbed his legs and arms, swinging him overboard with chuckles and words you didn’t understand. A splash from the body hit your cheek making you flinch.
The cripple watched your reaction with a cruel smirk. You fixed your eyes on the ground in hopes he would grow bored.
“You knew him?” He asked, accent heavy.
“Yes,” you said shortly, clenching your jaw in disgust.
“Was he your father?” The man raised an eyebrow.
“Who was he to you?” He asked curiously.
“Why do you care, heathen?” You spat angrily.
He chuckled lowly, shaking his head softly. He mumbled something to himself before raising a hand to your cheek. You stared in fear at the first touch of his cold fingers. He watched your reaction, pulling them away and dropping them to the wood boards of the boat. He dipped two fingers in a puddle of blood next to him and brought the fingers back to your cheek. He drew a thick line from the top of your cheek bone to the corner of your lips. Your throat bobbed as the urge to sob built again. The pagan admired his work before one of his companions shouted something, making him crawl away.
You knew you shouldn’t have fallen asleep among these ruffians but your eyelids had been so heavy you’d given in. Now having jolted awake, you blinked in the darkness that loomed over the boat. The only sounds on your boat were the occasional splash from the bow as it cut through the glasslike water. Some of the boats around you had torches lit and the sounds of talking and distant laughter made it an oddly homey feeling. And then your muscles practically shrieked in protest as you moved to get slightly more comfortable, the brief comfort gone.
You sighed softly and dropped your head back against the pole you were using to keep propped up. You stared at the sky, looking for familiar star constellations. There were none. The sudden realization that you’d never see England again was like a large weight on your chest that made it difficult to breath.
“Are you praying to your god?”
You startled at the thickly accented voice. You whipped your head to the left to see the blue eyed man from earlier. He smirked at your reaction before sliding off the bench he was sitting on to crawl next to you.
“Were you? Praying to your god?” He asked in confirmation again and gestured to the other captives. “The one you all worship.”
Hot anger burned in your chest as you slowly turned your head to see all of your fellow townspeople in such despair. Some were so still you were certain they’d soon be at the bottom of the sea.
“I do not worship a god who lets his people suffer like this.” You spat.
The pagan nodded slowly to himself at your words. He scooted a bit closer, leaning in close enough so his breath, which reeked of mead, fanned across your face. You refused to move away, to seem weak like earlier.
“So you no longer believe?”
“I did not say that. I said I no longer worship. I don’t worship a god who lets monsters like you slaughter entire towns. Infants, children, women, parents in front of their little ones.” Your voice cracked and you swallowed, furious with yourself for it.
“Monsters,” He mused and tilted his head with a wolfish grin, teeth glinting. “Would you worship other gods?” He pulled out a knife and stone and began sharpening the blade methodically, waiting for you answer.
“At this point I wish to worship no gods.” You whispered.
He nodded again at this, as if he actually understood. He continued sharpening the knife in silence, asking no more questions. His hair was out of the braids you’d seen before, it hung in loose waves above his broad shoulders. His eyes gleamed in the low lighting of the stars. You looked back at your grimy hands before he noticed. He tilted his head to look at you, sinking his sharp teeth into his bottom lip. When you didn’t reciprocate he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him. He studied your face for a tense moment before you ripped your jaw from his grip, taking a shaky breath.
The heathen let it slide, focusing back on his knife before he put it and the rock back into his coat. He then produced a chunk of bread from his other pocket. A rush of saliva hit your tongue at the sight and scent of it.
“Hungry?” He asked and pressed it to your lips. “After all, I don’t want my slave to starve before she gets to see Kattegat.”
Your stomach dropped, you were to be his slave. He pressed the bread harder to your lips. You hesitantly opened your mouth and took a bite, not breaking eye contact as you chewed. You hated the sudden intimacy of this, him feeding you like you were helpless. When you swallowed he encouraged you take another two bites before he crammed the rest into his mouth. His cheek bulged as he chewed, washing it down with a swallow of mead. You watched his throat as he swallowed, eyes trailing after a drop the slid down his skin. He noticed and held it up for you to take a sip. You licked your lips when he pulled it away, unable to tear your eyes from it as he tipped it back again.
“You should rest, don’t wanna end up like one of them.” He said suddenly, nodding at a body currently being thrown over.
“I’ve already slept.” You responded shortly.
“Yea, for maybe an hour.” He retorted. “Sleep, it’s an order.”
“I said no,” You snapped.
He growled in frustration and dragged his fingers through his thick mane of brown hair.
“I’ll make sure no one rapes you, just.. sleep.” He insisted. “I’ll sit right here.”
“I don’t trust you either, Heathen.”
He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Well if you won’t sleep, I will.” He didn’t open his eyes.
“Fine.” You mumbled, looking back up at the stars.
Well, this got deleted twice. Fuck you very much tumblr.
As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry’s side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other —
[Context: Our punchy frontline berserker’s had her jaw ripped off - but this is hardly a problem thanks everyone being undead.]
Berserker punches an enemy so hard the poor thing essentially bursts apart into meaty chunks. She scoops up her jaw and some meat from the now-really-dead baddie, sticks her jaw back onto her face, and starts chowing down to regenerate.
Berserker, grinning madly as soon as her jaw’s fixed: “The breakfast of champions!”
Jongin’s voice is low and childlike as he whines out his protests at your stubborn self.
“Y/N, really, I’m walking you home.” He huffs, watching with ‘cold’ eyes while you step into your worn down tennis shoes and grab for your jacket which- a sigh- was to be found in his stubbornly raised hand.
“Jongin, please.” You pout, reaching for your jacket with another sigh and a reassuring statement, that no, he didn’t need to walk you home, just over campus, this late. It wasn’t that late, anyways.
Your jacket is lighter than expected, and you hurry it over your shoulder before placing your arms through the arms of the fluffy jacket. There is only a single light illuminating Jongin’s small dorm room, casting a yellow light over the strewn out empty bags of candies and soda bottles. His bed is messy and unmade after the two of you had spent your whole Sunday night up into it, watching all your favorite movies.
A few hours earlier, Jongin had called you up and told you that his roommate was out for the night, begging you to come over. And so you did, and now you were as tired as ever, stifling yawn after yawn and stretching out your stiff legs by his door.
“It is that late, actually.” Jongin says dumbly. “It’s almost one in the morning, you do realize we watched like four movies. That’s like- what, 1,5 hours times four?”
A third sigh - one that transitioned into a jaw-ripping yawn. “Don’t even start, Jongin, seriously. I have math class at nine tomorrow morning.”
Junkrat stared at
her, yellow eyes gleaming brighter than ever, his hands clasped and
wiggling impatiently. “Do you like it really? You don’t gotta like it!
Aw, are you just saying that to make me feel better? I know it’s a trash
heap, I hate it, it’s the worst, don’t even know why I ever wanted to
head back to this pit, eh? Heh! What a dump!…Do you like it though?”
stood there for a few long moments, trying to find something nice to
say about Junkertown. And eventually she settled on a rather meekly
stated, “Well! W-well, it’s…a lot cleaner than I thought it would be?”
Which was not a lie. It was literally a town made of junk, trash, and
spare parts, but at least she wasn’t wading knee-deep in grease and
blood like she was afraid she would be. She looked around again,
deciding not to comment on an animal that she wasn’t really sure was a
rat, a cat, or a dog, (or some mutant creature she didn’t even
recognize) that was staring menacingly at her from the shadows of a
nearby alleyway, hunched atop an overturned garbage can. “It’s,
“We can leave, darl. We can leave at any time and I
won’t say a thing about it…Roadie, we’re turning around, we’re leavin’!”
He did an abrupt about-face, spinning about on his peg, but found his
path blocked by the enormous gut of his bodyguard. Roadhog merely
uttered a tired sigh, and Mei grabbed onto his mechanical hand to help
jostle him back into place, walking ahead. The lanky junker groaned a
little, stumbling back into step as Hog placed one enormous hand against
his bony spine and brusquely pushed him forward. “Are you sure you
“Jamison, it’s fine. I never got to see Junkertown
proper before, and it’ll be interesting to see where you came from.” Mei
squinted at the furry monstrosity in the alleyway and she could have
sworn it squinted back at her before slinking into the dark. Shaking her
head, she held Rat’s hand and shepherded him along. For the past few
hours he had ping-ponged rapidly back and forth between being overly
excited to ‘show her the sights’,and bemoaning Junkertown’s very
existence as beneath her and how they never should have come here.
Several times now he had tried to convince her to leave, only to become
distracted by some familiar landmark or favorite hiding spot and drag
her towards it a moment later.
Warnings: 18+, bondage, multiple orgasms, dirty talk and swearing
A/N: This took me forever to write, I’m sorry. I’m an Ashton girl and I just wanted to get it right 😊
After a long, hard day working I finally tumble into bed. Working 14 hours, 5 days a week does something to a person. I was nearly asleep when I heard footsteps behind me followed by a soft chuckle.
“What are you laughing at, babe?” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the pillow.
“Just you. I knew you had a long week but to walk straight past me without a hello, is just funny to me.” Ash laughed. I repositioned my head to look at him. He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and smirk plastered on his face.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so tired.” I apologised, leaning up on an elbow and rubbing my eyes.
“I know and you’re forgiven.” Ash said as he laid on his back next to me, putting his legs over mine.
“You know, you could have asked me to move.” I stated, as he took in a deep breath and closing his eyes.
“I know, but where’s the fun in that?” He asked rhetorically. I removed my legs from under his.
“Whatever, babe. I’m tired, so goodnight.” With that I turned my back to him with a smirk evident on my face.
“Is that it? That’s all I get? Just a goodnight and nothing else?” Ashton asked, raising to lean on his elbow.
“That’s it.” I mumbled into the pillow.
I felt him ease back down onto his back with no other words spoken. After a couple of minutes I was nearly asleep, and thought he must have fallen asleep too but I was jolted awake by a harsh slap to my rear. I was about to protest when Ash roughly turned me onto my back and hastily pressed his lips against mine.
“Goodnight” and with that he removed himself from me and laid back down, back towards me. Two can play at that game.
I started by lightly running my finger tips up and down his spine, then adding a little more pressure. I followed after with trailing my hand down the side of waist to the hemline of his sweatpants. I leaned my cheek against his shoulder, eyes watching his reactions closely, while I let my fingers pull on the elastic band of his sweatpants, and then I let the band go to snap back against his skin. I felt him jolt slightly under me.
“Gotcha” I whispered in victory, but he wasn’t letting me win so easily. I then pouted in defeat as he didn’t move any part of his body, or face.
I had to improvise. I slowly moved my hand around his stomach and chest, my lips leaving soft, light kisses towards his neck. As I got closer to his neck, I knew I had him, he shifted his shoulder to give me more room.
“What are you doing to me?” Ashton growled lowly, and in a blink of an eye, I was pinned against the mattress looking up into hazel eyes clouded over with lust.
“That was cute, what you did back there, thinking that you had the upper hand. Oh angel, how wrong you were?” He said, voice low and deep. I saw something flicker in his eyes, silently telling me to obey his every word or he would destroy me.
I watched his every move as he got off our bed and went to our draw. His face expression less as he walked back towards me, the anticipation making my insides melt.
“Come the edge of the bed and kneel up on your knees.” Ash spoke sternly, and I did as I was told. As he held up two bandanas , I knew I was done for.
“Open up, baby.” He said sweetly, as he held a bandana to my mouth. I parted my lips, and he placed the bandana between them and tied in at the back of my head firmly.
The last bandana was placed over my eyes, preventing my vision and heightening my senses. I then felt Ash lift me up, and then place me back down on my back, my head supported on a pillow, then his presence disappeared.
I felt Ash wrap a piece of fabric around my wrist. He pulled the fabric up, my arm following as he tied my wrist to the bed frame. His presence vanished again before returning to my other side, my other wrist receiving the same fate as the first.
Ash then ever so lightly, trailed his fingers down my chest and stomach as he straddled my legs. I heard a jaw clinching rip of the flimsy shirt I was wearing, exposing my bare chest fully to Ash.
He traced feather light touches around both breasts, circling up to my nipples. His fingertips slightly bumping the tiny balls of my piercings. I felt him lift up the angel wings on my piercings and let them fall back down, sending a small jolt through my body.
Ash traced his fingertips lightly over the buds, the sensation going straight down south. Ever since being pierced my nipples have heightened in sensitivity, much to Ashton’s approval. He trailed his fingertips lower, stopping at my belly bar.
“Lick my pussy,” I could hear the smirk in his voice as he read the small message out loud. “Oh angel, my darling angel, I’m going to just that and much more.” His voice now next to my ear.
He attached his lips to my neck, sucking and biting. His fingertips circling my nipples causing me to wriggle underneath him. His lips traveled down further, stopping to kiss circles around the base of my breasts before his mouth came into contact with my nipples. The sensation caused my back to arch.
Once satisfied, his lips moved down even further. He lopped his fingers in the waist bad of my shorts, slowly dragging them down and discarding them on the floor behind him. His fingers lightly trace the outline of my lace panties, I let out a muffled sound of frustration.
He abandoned his teasing, I felt his hands lift up my head, untying his bandana and I was allowed to speak. Before I could even say anything, Ashton pressed his lips against mine. I moaned against his lips as I felt his tongue swipe across my lips, asking for entrance.
I opened my mouth to him, his tongue invading my mouth as his hands roamed my body. He left my mouth, trailing downwards again until he reached my panties. He placed his hands underneath me, pulling my panties down over my arse before using his teeth to pull them down and off, dropping them on the floor too.
He used his hands to push my legs apart, using his strength to keep them from moving. I felt his breath fan over me, and I knew he was taking his time to admire what’s lain in front of him.
“You look so good like this angel. All tied up and helpless.” His voices ghosting over me, sending chills up my spine.
Ash caught me by surprise as his lips hastily latched themselves to my clit, sucking harshly. The sounds coming from my mouth, fuelling his actions. He changed tempo, now using his tongue to trace tantalising slow circles around my clit.
My back arched off the bed as I tightly balled my fists, my breath ragged. He moved one hand, and started to tease my entrance.
“Please, Ash.” My voice came out slightly above a whisper, I was afraid he didn’t hear me.
“Patience, angel.” He spoke against my clit, sending vibrations through my body.
He then pushed a finger deep inside me as he latched his lips back onto my clit. He kept a traumatising slow pace, keeping in time with movement of his finger and sucking. I let out a raspy moan as he added a second finger, the pace of his actions increased slightly.
I could feel my breaking point creep up slowly. My chest started to rise and fall rapidly, Ashton noticed, his movements now merciless. He changed to now teasing my entrance with his tongue and rubbing harsh circles on my clit with his fingers.
Once he knew I was close to breaking, he withdrew his mouth and hauled his fingers for a moment. Just as my breathing started to turn normal, he started to move his fingers slowly, and then merciless. Getting me to almost breaking quickly and then withdrawing his fingers completely.
I let out a frustrated groan, and pulled on the bandanas, as I heard him chuckle. I felt him attach his lips back on my core. Alternating between tongue fucking, and licking my clit. Yet again getting me close to that breaking point before withdrawing a third time.
“Ashton, I swear to god if you do that one more time, you’re not getting any for a month.” I warned, weakly. Only getting a deep chuckle in return.
All at once his tongue returned to my entrance and his fingers resumed their merciless movements on my clit. I could feel my orgasm rapidly forming. My mouth dropped opened, moans falling. I was so close, but it felt so far away.
“Ash, please, I’m so close.” I moaned out, straining against the bandanas.
Ashton moaned against my entrance, and pushed his tongue inside me, my insides burst. A groan fell from my lips as Ashton lapped up my wetness. As I tried to calm my breaths, I felt him get off the bed. His hands gripped my ankles, and roughly flipped me over, positioning me so my arse was in the air.
His mouth was back on my core, licking and sucking relentlessly. In this moment, I knew what his objective was, he was trying to get me to squirt. He removed his mouth and used his fingers, thrusting two deep inside and used his other hand to rub at my clit.
I could feel the tension rising in the pit of my stomach. I held on for as long as could before letting go, soaking Ashton’s hands.
“That was fucking hot.” I heard Ash speak from behind me, the astonishment apparent in his voice. He flipped me back over onto my back.
He pushed two fingers inside me again, his palm grazing my clit, as he relentlessly thrusted them in and out, hitting my g-spot every time. My moans now louder and more frequent. In no time I was squirting again.
Ash caught me off guard and thrusted his length inside me. Moving a merciless pace, rapidly snapping his hips. I could hear the creaks of the bed. The sensation becoming too much, as I felt my fourth orgasm approaching quickly. My back arched off the bed as my insides gushed out over his cock.
He once again flipped over on to my stomach, arse again in the air. He thrusted his length inside me forcefully. His hands gripping my hips tightly, sure to leave fingerprints. He held his relentless pace until I was gushing over him again, my scream muffled by the pillow.
He slowly rolled me back onto my back. I felt his hands start to untie my hands, and then he untied the bandana covering my eyes. My eyes slowly adjusted to the light in the room, before focusing on Ashton above me. Eyes clouded by lust, lips pulled into a smile.
“I want to see you when you squirt around my cock again.” His voice rasped. I could feel his words head down south, as I swallowed thickly.
He slowly pushed his dick inside me, before fucking me relentlessly. I screwed my eyes shut as my mouth dropped open, my hands tangled in his hair.
“Open your eyes angel, I want to see you while I fuck you.” I released a groan at his words, my eyes focusing on the boy.
One hand gripping my waist firmly, while the other gripped the bed frame, as he held his pace. I wrapped my legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. It was becoming too much to keep my eyes open, but I forced them to stay focused on Ashton, as I felt my fifth orgasm appear.
“Baby, I’m close.” I moaned, closing my eyes.
“I know angel” he then moved his hand from my waist to my clit, rubbing fast circles. “Open your eyes.”
My fifth orgasm hit me hard, the force causing his dick out of me. He reentered me again, before flipping us over. I now had control of the situation. I slowly bounced up and down, while kissing at his neck, eliciting small moans from the back of his throat.
His hands gripped my hips tightly, pushing me to move faster, his hips meeting me halfway. As I came up I twisted my hips slightly. The movement pulling a louder moan from him.
“If you keep doing that I’ll explode.” He groaned out, causing me to smirk.
I kept my actions up, raising to sit up, my hands using his chest as leverage. He moved a hand to my clit, rubbing rough circles. Pulling loud rapid moans from deep within me. His own moans now more frequent and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Come on, Ash, get me over the edge again. Don’t hold back.” I moaned his ear. Both his hands smacked my arse, before halting my movements, as he thrusted up into me.
He attached his mouth to my collarbone, licking and biting. His hand moved back to my clit and rubbing circles. After a few more moments I came hard. My orgasm fuelled Ashton’s, as he stilled and filled me fully, groaning loudly.
I collapsed on top of him, both of us breathing rapidly. We never spoke for a few minutes. I moved myself to be cuddling up next to him, he moved his arms loosely around me.
“That was amazing, Ash.” I whispered in content.
“Yeah. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His voice dripping with concern.
Would you mid going a little more in depth with why you think Hide has those specific injuries? All we've seen is the scar on his throat, correct?
It’s really involved, but has to do with the theory that Hide is Rio’s mysterious “big brother” and a ton of other subtleties that Ishida has worked in, including:
Kijima cutting out Yuuma’s tongue, being maimed in general
Hide speaks in Playstation symbols - Rio and Kijima are crossover characters from the TG videogame, Jail, and there is an ambiguous ending where the brother may not be dead
Also, in the light novel Days, Hide became friends with a ghoul named Ikuma who’s adoptive parents were human. That could be a sign that Hide’s family (or vice versa) adopted one or the other.
Mutsuki cutting out tongues as his calling card
Mutsuki (a Kaneki lookalike) ripping the jaw/tongue out of Haise (a Hide lookalike)
The severe focus on Kaneki’s right eye towards the end of the sewer, V14, and the eye Uta was holding at the end of the first series
We’ve got scars on Hide’s throat. We know he can say a little bit, although not without great difficulty. So, best-case scenario, that means his tongue and jaw are still intact, and it’s only his larynx that’s been crushed/ripped out.
Worst-case scenario, he had his throat ripped, taking a mass of muscle and skin, parts of his jaw, cheek and tongue along with it.
Medium-case scenario, it’s a little of both. You can’t say “M” without both of your lips, and you can’t say “N” clearly without your whole tongue.
in the raws, it looked like it took him a moment to force out the “n”. It’s like “ahmogh…n”
Request- could you write some fluff of Jason x reader after a nightmare.
Summary- Jason has a nightmare of his death, and reader comforts him.
Warnings- Okay so it is a little angsty in the beginning but fluffy towards the end. My first time writing a request, so sorry if it didn’t come out like you wanted.
A/N- Oh my gosh my first request. This was so exciting to receive thank you so much. I really hope you like it, I’m not used to writing requests so this was a different experience. I would appreciate feedback, how I could improve and what I do pretty well. I want to but the best quality work I can put to you lovely people! Enjoy!
It was usually in the early morning hours when you would be waken up by Jason’s tossing and turning, which would turn into screams and violent fists in the air. It was a usual occurrence, Jason’s nightmares. Ever since he returned from the grave he always relived that day. Tonight was no different.