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Prompt: On Camera
Pairing: Skwisgaar/Toki
Toki ignored him all through dinner, even keeping his cool when Skwisgaar taunted his playing, his costume, and called him a hick because there was straw in his hair. It was enough to drive the Swede, who couldn’t handle being unacknowledged, crazy and he ultimately stormed away from the table before dessert. The rest of Dethklok turned varied shades of green on the Norwegian but Toki merely scowled and shoveled half of the sugar-free peach cobbler into his mouth and then stomped off towards their massive trailer. Eyebrows rose and glances were exchanged before a round of shrugs and the remainder of the band headed back towards Pickles’ room where an impressive array of alcohol waited.
It was nearly midnight when Skwisgaar finished pouting and started to get mad instead. His long legs carried him to Toki’s door and he had a fist raised to pound on it when noises from behind stopped him cold. Thunks and thuds signified the rhythm guitarist was either hitting his pillow or else was making good use of the dartboard set he’d bought on their last trip off location. And his tenor voice was loud and clear, anger and frustration and what seemed like a note of jealousy. A smile spread across the Swede’s face, slow and sly and predatory, as he listened to the intermingled Norwegian and English curses. He didn’t bother to knock and Toki, caught by surprise, wasn’t able to tear the picture off the dartboard before Skwisgaar saw. Blond and blue-eyed with milky fair skin, the person was beautiful…and sporting a decent rack despite the thin frame.
“Aww, is youse mad you isn’t mans enough to be de one giving that lady de sausage?”
Toki’s jaw dropped and for a moment he could only splutter, the best he could manage a simple “youse a dildo, Skwisgaar.”
It had been a long day but Skwisgaar’s mood had been eased greatly by Toki’s obvious frustration over the time he’d spent filming the video’s sex scene. Being wanted never failed to help his ego and to be wanted by his sometime enemy was even more satisfying. Skwisgaar only laughed at the insult and grabbed Toki’s hand, pulling the verbally protesting but physically willing Norwegian after him out of the trailer and back onto the darkened set.
The lights were dark and cold and the cameras were all covered with protective black vinyl hoods but the furs on the rustic bed were still soft against Toki’s palms as he fell against them. The world’s fastest fingers made quick work of his boots and his pants and his boxers, all of his lower clothing gone before he could form a protest. And then the Swede slid a hot hand over his abs, reached lower to wrap around his waking dick. Skwisgaar draped himself over Toki and leaned forward to purr in his ear.
“Dis won’t takes as nearly as longs, unsportunatesly, but it’s being MUCH more funs dan dis afternoons. For de boths of us.”
And more of my favorite middle-aged pirates because, well, BECAUSE!!!
Title: Strength
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Word Count: 642
There’s a loud cry of pain from somewhere behind him but Ben doesn’t recognize the voice. It makes him grin instead, something fierce and dark stretching a knife of a smile across an otherwise normally calm and dour face. His opponent flinches; saber wavering in a slackening grip, and Ben presses his advantage. He bears down with the heavy iron barrel of his gun, the blunderbuss almost obscenely and remarkably heavy thanks to the force behind it. The steel of the marine-issue weapon shivers and finally splinters under two more blows and a third strike to the head knocks the unfortunate man to the deck in an unconscious heap. He’ll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up but he’ll survive the battle so long as the ship doesn’t go down.
Clouds gather overhead; dark thunderheads circling in, caught and pulled by the growing pressure system over the two ships. Shanks is laughing in the distance, bright and wicked and as wild as the flickers of white-hot electricity that crackle in the sky. Ben has to swallow back a harsh chuckle of his own. It’s not his way to be so free, nor to taunt his enemies in such a manner. Months have passed since the entire crew has been able to let loose and this crack marine squadron just happens to be the unwitting form of their release. Too easy almost, but that’s what gives the encounter an edge of challenge.
It takes strength to become an Akagami. But it’s not physical strength like so many have presumed before. Oh, power of the body is welcomed and well used but it takes another sort of strength to survive on the dragon-prowed ship with a captain like Shanks. It’s why their crew is as small as it is, despite all their successes. And indeed, part of why they’ve been able to come so far. Strength of will is what matters. Power of conviction and of self-worth and of nakama. Shanks is too full of life to ever completely smother his own will and the force of it manifests as steadily worsening stress and headaches in those not able to handle it. When he unleashes it, well, there’s a reason why there’s a storm brewing and why lesser crews cannot even come near Shanks’ ship. The best of them, those who have served the longest or simply have faith in Shanks’ convictions or in their own heady dreams, can do the same although no one is as strong as the captain. It’s a freeing sensation, loosing that power as a physical force, and it brings a sort of battle euphoria that cannot be described, only felt.
Ben likes to channel that strength into his gun, breaking through wood and metal with an ease that even his size and the heft of his gun cannot account for. It’s a destructively effective means and he turns from the fallen marine to the new cannons they’d been testing. A single focused blow with the butt of his weapon pinches shut the barrel and another destroys the strange firing mechanism that had propelled the cannonballs with a speed and distance greater that he’d seen before. Behind him, Shanks laughs again and the force of his will is almost like a caress against Ben’s back. He does smile, finally, and barks out a short chuff of a laugh as he finishes with the cannons. There is one left and he grunts with effort as he picks it up - that new firing device is heavier than it looks. Shanks winks at him as he heads back to their ship and Ben can only shake his head in response. His hands are full and it’s all too easy for his own will to get lost, wrapped up and consumed, in the captain’s own when he’s like this.
Pairing: Skwisgaar/Toki
Toki ignored him all through dinner, even keeping his cool when Skwisgaar taunted his playing, his costume, and called him a hick because there was straw in his hair. It was enough to drive the Swede, who couldn’t handle being unacknowledged, crazy and he ultimately stormed away from the table before dessert. The rest of Dethklok turned varied shades of green on the Norwegian but Toki merely scowled and shoveled half of the sugar-free peach cobbler into his mouth and then stomped off towards their massive trailer. Eyebrows rose and glances were exchanged before a round of shrugs and the remainder of the band headed back towards Pickles’ room where an impressive array of alcohol waited.
It was nearly midnight when Skwisgaar finished pouting and started to get mad instead. His long legs carried him to Toki’s door and he had a fist raised to pound on it when noises from behind stopped him cold. Thunks and thuds signified the rhythm guitarist was either hitting his pillow or else was making good use of the dartboard set he’d bought on their last trip off location. And his tenor voice was loud and clear, anger and frustration and what seemed like a note of jealousy. A smile spread across the Swede’s face, slow and sly and predatory, as he listened to the intermingled Norwegian and English curses. He didn’t bother to knock and Toki, caught by surprise, wasn’t able to tear the picture off the dartboard before Skwisgaar saw. Blond and blue-eyed with milky fair skin, the person was beautiful…and sporting a decent rack despite the thin frame.
“Aww, is youse mad you isn’t mans enough to be de one giving that lady de sausage?”
Toki’s jaw dropped and for a moment he could only splutter, the best he could manage a simple “youse a dildo, Skwisgaar.”
It had been a long day but Skwisgaar’s mood had been eased greatly by Toki’s obvious frustration over the time he’d spent filming the video’s sex scene. Being wanted never failed to help his ego and to be wanted by his sometime enemy was even more satisfying. Skwisgaar only laughed at the insult and grabbed Toki’s hand, pulling the verbally protesting but physically willing Norwegian after him out of the trailer and back onto the darkened set.
The lights were dark and cold and the cameras were all covered with protective black vinyl hoods but the furs on the rustic bed were still soft against Toki’s palms as he fell against them. The world’s fastest fingers made quick work of his boots and his pants and his boxers, all of his lower clothing gone before he could form a protest. And then the Swede slid a hot hand over his abs, reached lower to wrap around his waking dick. Skwisgaar draped himself over Toki and leaned forward to purr in his ear.
“Dis won’t takes as nearly as longs, unsportunatesly, but it’s being MUCH more funs dan dis afternoons. For de boths of us.”
And more of my favorite middle-aged pirates because, well, BECAUSE!!!
Title: Strength
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Word Count: 642
There’s a loud cry of pain from somewhere behind him but Ben doesn’t recognize the voice. It makes him grin instead, something fierce and dark stretching a knife of a smile across an otherwise normally calm and dour face. His opponent flinches; saber wavering in a slackening grip, and Ben presses his advantage. He bears down with the heavy iron barrel of his gun, the blunderbuss almost obscenely and remarkably heavy thanks to the force behind it. The steel of the marine-issue weapon shivers and finally splinters under two more blows and a third strike to the head knocks the unfortunate man to the deck in an unconscious heap. He’ll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up but he’ll survive the battle so long as the ship doesn’t go down.
Clouds gather overhead; dark thunderheads circling in, caught and pulled by the growing pressure system over the two ships. Shanks is laughing in the distance, bright and wicked and as wild as the flickers of white-hot electricity that crackle in the sky. Ben has to swallow back a harsh chuckle of his own. It’s not his way to be so free, nor to taunt his enemies in such a manner. Months have passed since the entire crew has been able to let loose and this crack marine squadron just happens to be the unwitting form of their release. Too easy almost, but that’s what gives the encounter an edge of challenge.
It takes strength to become an Akagami. But it’s not physical strength like so many have presumed before. Oh, power of the body is welcomed and well used but it takes another sort of strength to survive on the dragon-prowed ship with a captain like Shanks. It’s why their crew is as small as it is, despite all their successes. And indeed, part of why they’ve been able to come so far. Strength of will is what matters. Power of conviction and of self-worth and of nakama. Shanks is too full of life to ever completely smother his own will and the force of it manifests as steadily worsening stress and headaches in those not able to handle it. When he unleashes it, well, there’s a reason why there’s a storm brewing and why lesser crews cannot even come near Shanks’ ship. The best of them, those who have served the longest or simply have faith in Shanks’ convictions or in their own heady dreams, can do the same although no one is as strong as the captain. It’s a freeing sensation, loosing that power as a physical force, and it brings a sort of battle euphoria that cannot be described, only felt.
Ben likes to channel that strength into his gun, breaking through wood and metal with an ease that even his size and the heft of his gun cannot account for. It’s a destructively effective means and he turns from the fallen marine to the new cannons they’d been testing. A single focused blow with the butt of his weapon pinches shut the barrel and another destroys the strange firing mechanism that had propelled the cannonballs with a speed and distance greater that he’d seen before. Behind him, Shanks laughs again and the force of his will is almost like a caress against Ben’s back. He does smile, finally, and barks out a short chuff of a laugh as he finishes with the cannons. There is one left and he grunts with effort as he picks it up - that new firing device is heavier than it looks. Shanks winks at him as he heads back to their ship and Ben can only shake his head in response. His hands are full and it’s all too easy for his own will to get lost, wrapped up and consumed, in the captain’s own when he’s like this.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 06:01 pm (UTC)You've got it back, my friend!!!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 08:56 pm (UTC)