Not Really Katsumi

Not Really Katsumi

Retsu hasn’t really met many other Kaioh’s in his lifetime, as most of them remained in China while he bounced back and forth between Bailin Temple and the ShinShinKai in Japan. Therefore he was more than surprised when he saw Katsumi standing in the hallway with the famous Poison Hand User, Li Kaioh.

When did he fly to China? And how did he lose that much weight?

“Katsumi?”

He halted in his tracks, staring confusedly at the back of his head from the distance until Li Kaioh awkwardly cleared his throat and whispered something in Chinese to the other man.

Strange. When did Katsumi learn Chinese?

“Retsu! There you are, I had something to discuss with you!” Baki sprinted up to him with a tired smile on his face, effectively drawing his attention away from the pair. “Oh, hey Katsumi. Talk to you later!” The scrawny teenager waved and pulled Retsu away, missing the moment when “Katsumi” turned around.

“Who were they talking to?” Han Kaioh asked his brother, who could only shake his head with a puzzled look on his face. “Does ‘Katsumi’ mean something in Japanese?”

“No idea. Perhaps they were calling you ugly.”

“Mm, unlikely unless it was directed at you dear brother. Even if you are the younger one you still look a decade older,” he laughed lightly at the expression on Li’s face as a tick popped out on his forehead. It would be quite unfortunate if he got poisoned tonight, wouldn’t it?

“Oh don’t look at me like that brother, I was just kidding. Kind of. Hm, not really. Seriously though, what is a ‘Katsumi’?”

***

It wasn’t until later that they were in the same room did Retsu finally get a good look at who he had originally assumed was the thick-set karate practitioner from the ShinShinKai, though the only distinguishing features were probably his thinner eyebrows and leaner body. Everything about Katsumi Orochi was large, from his boulder of a fist to his non-existent waist, courtesy of a heavily muscled and wide torso. The man was honestly built like a goddamn tree trunk.

Even with all the differences (all two differences), he still heavily resembled Katsumi, and Retsu was subtly wondering how to get a picture of him to show his friend when he got back.

“Brother, Retsu Kaioh is staring at you again,” Li Kaioh glanced over shoulder, catching his eye and quickly looking away. It began to dawn on Retsu that he may be looking like a creep with his constant staring, and it didn’t help that when he first tried to talk to him the first words out of his mouth were in Japanese. All because he looked so much like goddamn Katsumi.

“Just don’t make eye contact Li,” Han sighed. “I hope I don’t have to fight him later. Mixing crazy with genius never ends up well.”

Just watched Vindicta, thought the movie kinda sucked but the slasher was kinda...DUDE WAS 6'6.

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

Chapter 3: You Make Me Go Crazy (SMUT)

Michael, with a smug smirk plastered on his face beneath the mask, stared back unabashedly. After casting a suspicious glance back at the other man, Jason hesitantly squatted back down to fix up the cages.

By the time they had patrolled through the entire territory of Camp Crystal Lake, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky with streaks of orange and red. Jason, ever watchful after the incident by the lake, kept Michael in his peripheral vision at all times. Michael, however, refused to give up. If anything the challenge excited him. He was, if not anything else, extremely patient. All he would have to do was to wait until Jason let his guard down, then he would strike.

It wasn't until after dinner did he finally get his chance. Jason stood with his back turned to him at the sink, obliviously washing the dishes, blind to the large figure stalking towards him.

A huge, rough hand clamped down on the counter, startling Jason so much he almost dropped the plate. The other hand came up to grope and knead at his ass, and a warm body pressed him against the furniture. In a surprising turn of events, Jason found himself leaning into his touch. A soft sigh whistled through the holes in his mask and a sudden warmth crept down his spine. Michael, who was never really gentle, began tearing at his clothes from the back, letting out an impatient snarl when the leather belt that wrapped around Jason's waist refused to unbuckle. Quickly, Jason batted Michael's hands away before he got irritated and tore it in half. He wasn't sure how many articles of clothing he'd lost to the Boogeyman, but Michael was insistent.

His belt clattered to the ground and Michael wasted no time to rip off his boxers and pants. It was freezing cold outside, but Jason felt so hot that he was surprised he didn't start smoking out his ears. He couldn't even be bothered to chide his lover about shredding another pair of underwear. The fire building in his stomach sank lower, turning into a small inferno in his groin. He was already fully erect before Michael had begun to touch him, the thick member jolting against his stomach as Michael unzipped his boiler suit out of sight.

A raspy whimper slipped through his hockey mask, and Jason could feel Michael's grip tighten on his hips. If it wasn't for Jason's abnormally high pain tolerance he was sure he would be cringing in pain. It almost seemed as if they were created for each other, a perfect match made in Hell. Something hard and wet prodded at his ass, jolting him back to reality and he flinched in surprise at the feeling.

Michael didn't give much warning before he roughly thrust in and buried himself to the hilt. Jason let out a deep groan at the painful intrusion and tried to move away, but was halted by the bruising grip on his hips. He scrabbled at the counter with both hands, the wood coming apart easily under his strong grip and he clenched his teeth so hard it was a miracle they didn't chip.

Michael growled at the feeling of Jason's warm, wet walls flexing around his cock, desperate to move but he knew he was already pushing it. If he pissed him off too much Jason would stubbornly refuse to have sex with him until he cooled off. And Michael wasn't about to go on another two-week-long drought. He waited irritably for Jason to adjust to his size, the seconds ticking by agonizingly slow.

After what felt like hours but was at most around a minute, Jason wriggled his hips back into Michael as a signal to move. He didn't wait another second, starting up a brutal pace that left Jason gripping at the crumbling counter edge.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, accompanied by the soft grunts and moans that slipped through their masks. A large, calloused hand came around Jason's side to grab his straining erection and began to steadily stroke the shaft. A thumb pressed down on his weeping slit and Michael could feel Jason clamp down around him harder than before. White spots swam across his vision at the sensation of Jason's velvety walls and he redoubled his pace. Michael could feel his dick pulsating hotly in his palm, begging for release. He angled his thrusts to find the spot that he knew Jason liked, pushing as deep as he could manage from his position. He was rewarded with a particularly loud moan from his lover, and he sped up to an impossible pace that only the Shape of Haddonfield could achieve.

Jason could feel the tight bundle in his pelvic area about to burst, and he pushed back desperately against Michael. A hard thrust into the exact spot had him howling, and he came so hard he saw white behind his eyelids. Thick ropes of cum painted his chest and stomach, and Michael barely managed to fuck him through his orgasm before following suit. Warmth filled Jason's insides and leaked out of his ass as Michael pulled out, and without Michael's support he collapsed halfway onto the counter.

They stood there panting for a while before Jason heard the distinct sound of Michael's zipper sliding up. Footsteps neared his exhausted body and pulled him out of his stupor as Michael, uncharacteristically gentle, helped him redress and disappeared into the night.

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 3: Naughty

Raian glanced at the sleeping form next to him, Ohma’s chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He was so completely oblivious to the world around him that it could almost be considered overconfidence. 

The fact that anyone would be so relaxed as to sleep in his presence made Raian’s hands itch, as if he hadn’t caused enough trouble already. After Ohma’s room was destroyed by a particularly wild training session in which the crazy Kure decided to hurl him headfirst through the drywall, Grandfather Erioh had punished them by forcing Raian to let Ohma sleep in his room. 

And Ohma of course, though not particularly happy about it, did not give much of a shit. Raian loved riling up types like him, to see how far he could push him before he snapped, yet Ohma was much more resilient than any other man he’s seen. Living on the Inside has taught him enough patience to last a lifetime, so it was only a *minor* inconvenience to deal with someone like Raian.

Raian usually slept with the curtains open. He liked keeping the windows open at night and wasn’t someone who cared about privacy anyways. If someone was stupid enough to attack him in his sleep then let them. It would just be like a lamb walking into the mouth of a lion, and Raian was not one to reject any extra violence that so willingly placed itself into his grasp. 

His room was flooded with a dull, silver light, the moon was partially obscured by thick clouds tonight. He could smell rain in the air. 

A wide beam almost lined up perfectly with Ohma’s sprawled form, highlighting the edges of his face and captivating the attention of his roommate. 

Damn bastard doesn’t even know how pretty he is, Raian thought snarkily. Guys like Ohma normally annoyed him to no end, but he was different. It was almost endearing how clueless he was to his own charms. Almost. 

Wait. Since when did he start thinking Ohma was handsome? He’s been nothing but a pain in his ass since he showed up. Raian could feel the growing frustration well up in his chest, and he was almost tempted to throw the sleeping figure out of his room. 

He hated the feeling of confusion that began to flood over his body. Being confused was for the weak and for the prey that he devoured without a second thought. He didn’t think about petty girl shit like that. 

But it was hard for him not to look, with the way his dark lashes hung over his eyes or how his wild hair framed his cheekbones. 

Against his own mind, Raian had scooted closer to him to catch a better glimpse, staring almost creepily at Ohma’s face in the dark. 

Tch! There’s nothing special about this asshole! Raian scoffed to himself. He forced himself to roll over to the other side, facing the wall and yanking the blanket over himself almost aggressively. 

Dumb fucker’s getting in my head. 

But he still couldn’t go to sleep, even with his eyes screwed shut he saw him in his mind clear as day. 

Unfortunately for Raian, his subconscious knew better and had already begun trying to make Ohma his a while ago.

He had bought that shitty cologne from that big fragrance superstore that made his nose burn, glaring so hard at the cashier who had checked him out it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames right then and there. 

He had snatched the bag away, leaving the poor girl shaking and stomped the entire way home in a foul mood. The cologne he had offhandedly chosen (it had taken him almost thirty minutes, never again) had been some sharp, oaky forest scent that he didn’t really care for but could still withstand without wanting to drown himself in the bathtub. (It totally wasn’t because Ohma spent a large portion of his time in the forest or anything.)

It was just so that old man Erioh would stop getting on his ass after missions for smelling like shit, Raian had told himself. 

And he had started running his hand through his hair in the morning (because Raian had never heard of a comb before), and bought new, fancier clothes. Not that he didn’t already have a revolving door of new clothes from how often he ripped them up, but these were slightly nicer. Just slightly. 

Luckily the only ones who seemed to notice were Hollis and Reiichi as perceptive as they were, and they were both unwilling to poke the hornet’s nest by bringing it up to him. 

But thinking was never Raian’s strong suit, anyways. Things tend to get blown up and destroyed when he thought too hard. 

Snorting, Raian reached over his shoulder and flicked his face, watching as Ohma grunted and scrunched up his nose, but still remained fast asleep. He did it harder this time, only for his hand to be batted away like a fly.

Growling, the troublemaker almost considered punching him in the face if that bastard kept ignoring him, but as his eyes slid down Ohma’s exposed torso he had a better idea.

Raian reared back his arm, aimed, and slammed his open palm down right into Ohma’s hard stomach with an audible SMACK that was sure to wake up half the manor.

It did the trick, all right.

Neither Ohma nor Raian slept a wink that night, nor did the entire Kure Village who were kept awake by their wild brawling.

The house shook with the force of their fight, and all through the night one could hear Raian’s wild howling and the sound of thudding blows. 

Though some of the groans emitted from their quarters sounded suspiciously like something else…

I was watching The Crucifixion (2017) and this dude (Father Anton) really reminded me of Brahms. 😭😭😭

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

Chapter 2: Halloween Headache

It was almost that time of the year again, Jason thought as he eyeballed the calendar on the table. He had never cared about holidays until he came along.

Right on cue, Michael trudged in from the back door, dragging mud all over his freshly mopped floors. Jason let out a huff, gesturing angrily at his partner who barely spared him a second glance. Michael was always 'moody', especially around Halloween. Jason wasn't exactly sure why the holiday had such an effect on the Haddonfield slasher, and Michael himself wasn't certain why either. But neither of them cared enough to stew over it.

His mood swings got worse around that fateful day, and Jason had to constantly watch his back to make sure the smaller man wouldn't jump him with a knife to the shoulder or rip off his clothes. Personally, he preferred the latter. But this year, he had a peace offering. Jason smiled giddily under the mask, feeling the weight of the candy hidden beneath his old, bulging jacket.

He knew Michael had a massive sweet tooth, despite his efforts to conceal it. Any desserts that Jason made or stole would immediately disappear before he even had a chance to taste it. Personally, Jason didn't care much for sweets, so it made no difference to him if Michael decided to hog it all. Unfortunately, most trespassers knew better than to carry aromatic foods into the forest, lest they wanted to attract unwanted attention from bears or worse.

Clearly, the hikers yesterday were not so smart, bringing an entire bag of candy into the woods to stuff their faces. Jason had found and dispatched them in an instant, claiming his prize and doing his best to hide it from his lover. Luckily, Michael didn't seem to suspect anything, too caught up on his yearly Halloween bloodlust to pay much attention to Jason.

Jason grinned, sneaking over to their shared bedroom where Michael was already hard at work staring out of the window. Michael didn't react to Jason's heavy footsteps, and it wasn't until he heard the unfamiliar sound of crinkling plastic did he finally turn around.

Jason pulled the bag out of his jacket, showing it off proudly to Michael. Hidden by the pale, white mask, Michael's eyes widened in shock. How long has it been? Over a decade at least since he's last tasted Halloween candy. It was the night he'd killed his sister, Judith. The food at Smith's Grove was bland and repetitive, and there was never the luxury of anything sweet or even food that tasted remotely edible.

But Jason didn't know that. If he had, he probably wouldn't have presented Michael with the whole bag at once. It seemed to trigger something in the Boogeyman; Jason had never seen him move so fast.

Michael lunged, startling a surprised grunt out of the normally mute killer, grabbing the bag and speeding out of the room. A door slammed in the distance, the distinct click of a lock loud in the empty house. Jason stood rooted at the spot, frozen in confusion for a few seconds before a thought hit him.

Was he going to eat the whole bag at once?

Even Michael wouldn't be able to stomach that much candy at once, he was going to get a massive stomachache, Jason worried.

Quickly, he found Michael in the spare room, but the door was locked. The sound of movement slipped through the cracks at the bottom, and Jason pounded a heavy fist against it. Something was thrown against the wall in a clear indication of 'go away'.

Jason exhaled loudly, knocking again, only to be ignored. Michael wouldn't budge, he was too busy tearing into the bag, damn the consequences! No way would he let Jason take it away.

After about ten minutes of fruitless knocking, Jason finally gave up, sliding against the wall as he sat down next to the door.

Eventually, Jason dozed off, leaving Michael to scarf down the candy in peace. It must have been hours later until Jason awakened. The sky was dark, blanketing the small cabin in a soothing darkness. It was quiet, too quiet. Jason perked up, ears straining for any sound behind the locked door.

A soft groan caught his attention and he immediately broke the lock on the door, resigning himself to fix it later. Jason burst through, halting as he saw the figure of his unmasked lover curled up on the sheets, candy wrappers strewn on the floor and bed. There were still a few pieces left, but the rest of it was gone. A loud gurgle echoed through the room, coming from Michael's stomach, Jason realized.

Shakily, Michael reached for a wrapped chocolate and Jason had to hold back from face-palming as he watched. He grabbed Michael's wrist, pulling him away from the candy.

Michael shot him a venomous glare, growling loudly and jerking weakly in his grasp. Jason tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at the smaller male as if saying, "Really?"

Even with a stomachache he was still trying to eat. He moved the candy away from him, sending Michael into a thrashing fit. A knee was suddenly thrust into Jason's ribs, briefly winding him enough for Michael to break free and make a wild dive for the candy.

Lunging forward, Jason grabbed his ankle and pulled him back, promptly collapsing him onto his stomach and locking his arms around his chest.

Michael let out a grunt as all of the air was expelled from his lungs, the sound muffled by the duvet pressing into his face.

He went deathly still for a moment and promptly threw up all over the bed and rug, letting out a few raspy coughs as he finally finished expelling all the colorful fluids. Jason could do nothing except gently pat his back through the violent heaving, hoping that it wouldn't stain the already deteriorating floors.

It reminded him of that year when he caught his counselors watching The Exorcist, and back then he had covered his eyes as the girl projectile vomited everywhere on screen. Except this time he had a front-row seat.

This Halloween was certainly shaping up to be an unusual one, Jason thought as he moved Michael's head away from the puddle of foul-smelling, partially digested candy on the corner of the bed. It seemed like all the fight had fled from him along with the contents of his stomach.

He tried scooping Michael up to take him to the showers but being a stubborn bastard he refused, pushing Jason away and rolling onto his side with an irritated growl.

He fell asleep almost immediately, and Jason didn't have the heart to wake him. A small smile worked its way onto his face as he watched the rhythmic rising and falling of Michael's chest, dark lashes fluttering lightly every now and then. Carefully, Jason lowered himself next to his sleeping lover, heart swelling with unbridled affection. Slowly, he too was lulled to sleep, dreaming about sharp blue eyes and dark brown hair.

Michael may be a shithead, especially around Halloween, but he was Jason's shithead, and no one would be able to take him away from him.