The son meet his father
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 27
by
copier
· original author:
an188
The more Danny thought about it, the more obvious it became—Eirik needed to see him in the flesh, needed to witness the sheer physicality of his perfection firsthand. Eirik live in a small town in the north of Norway, isolated and starved for purpose; the perfect breeding ground for devotion. Danny typed out the message with deliberate grandeur: "You’ve proven yourself worthy. I’ll meet you at the stone circle outside your town—tomorrow at midnight. Come alone." The reply came within seconds, a jumble of capitalized gratitude and trembling excitement. Danny smirked, flexing his free hand absentmindedly, already imagining the boy’s awestruck expression when he saw him step out of the shadows, every inch of him carved like a god’s effigy.
The journey itself was effortless. Danny’s body moved through the night like a blade through silk, cutting through the frigid Norwegian air without resistance. Below him, the landscape shifted from city lights to endless stretches of frosted pines, the moon casting everything in a pale, ethereal glow. His golden eyes—unhidden now, the contacts discarded—scanned the terrain until he spotted the stone circle, ancient and half-buried in snow. Eirik was already there, pacing nervously, his breath visible in quick, frantic clouds. Danny slowed his descent, letting the wind bite at his bare skin, relishing the way his muscles tensed against the cold. The anticipation was delicious.
Eirik arrived early at the stone circle, his breath forming frantic clouds in the frigid air. He couldn't wait to meet Fenrir'sKin—his father—who had transformed him from a frail boy into a Viking warrior. His heart raced as he paced between the ancient stones, anticipation making him oblivious to the biting wind. Above him Danny was pleased to see that the weak boy had become a sexy bodybuilder—broad-shouldered yet still boyish—but still far beneath him in perfection.
Danny descended silently from the darkened sky, his golden eyes gleaming like twin suns in the night. His flawless body—sculpted beyond mortal limits—cut through the snowfall effortlessly. Eirik gasped when he spotted the naked god floating toward him, muscles rippling with divine power. "F-Father?" he stammered, knees buckling as he fell prostrate before Danny's magnificence. The snow melted where Danny's bare feet touched the snowy ground, that sank under his weight, steam rising from his superheated skin, the snow under his foot melting.
Eirik's breath hitched as Danny cupped his chin, forcing the boy to gaze up at him. Tears froze instantly on the boy's cheeks. "You doubted?" Danny murmured in Old Norse, his voice resonating deep in Eirik's chest. The boy sobbed, fingers clutching at Danny's calves—warm, impossibly smooth under his trembling touch. "I thought... I thought you were just a dream," Eirik whispered. Danny smiled, thumb tracing the boy's cracked lips. "All dreams become flesh if worshiped properly."
With a gentleness that bordered on cruelty, Danny leaned down and pressed a kiss to Eirik's forehead. The boy shuddered violently, heat radiating from that single point of contact like a brand. "Show me," Danny commanded, stepping back and gesturing to Eirik's layered winter gear. "Prove your devotion isn't just words." Eirik scrambled to obey, fingers fumbling with zippers and buttons, shedding garments like sins. The subzero wind bit at his newly exposed skin, but he stood straighter, prouder—nipples hardening, muscles flexing instinctively under Danny's golden scrutiny.
Danny circled him slowly, trailing fingertips over Eirik's shoulders—where the boy's once-bony frame now swelled with hard-won muscle—then down the ladder of his ribs, counting each ridge like a rosary bead. "Better," he murmured in that archaic lilt that made Eirik's knees weak. "But still soft here." His nail scraped the faintest pinch of skin above Eirik's hipbone, drawing a whimper. "Does my disappointment wound you?" Danny breathed against his ear, watching the boy's pupils blow wide. Eirik shook his head violently, flexing harder until veins stood out like ink strokes on parchment.
The wind howled around them, stealing Eirik's body heat, but he stood motionless—every muscle locked in worshipful tension. Danny stepped back, arms crossed over his own bare chest, steam still curling from his golden skin. With a slow blink, his irises ignited like embers, and a thin crimson beam lanced from his pupils to the stacked kindling at the stone circle's center. Fire erupted instantly, painting the ancient monoliths in flickering amber. "Warm yourself, my son," Danny murmured, the endearment sharp as a blade between teeth.
Eirik hesitated—just a breath—before darting toward the flames, his naked body gleaming with sweat despite the cold. "I wasn't... coy," he lied, knees knocking together as heat licked his thighs. Danny's laugh was a low thunder, closing the distance in three strides to grip Eirik's chin. "Nudity isn't shame," he breathed, thumb tracing the boy's chapped lips. "It's dominance. The world will kneel when we strip it bare." He released him with a push that sent Eirik stumbling closer to the fire.
Danny watched him from across the flames, golden eyes reflecting the embers. "Tell me, my son," he murmured the words curling like smoke, "how does it feel—your new strength?" Eirik's face lit up, his voice eager as a hunting dog's pant. "Powerful," he admitted, fingers flexing. "The weak ones—they cry now when I make them kneel. Last week, I broke a Turkish boy's nose behind the gym. He bled on my new shoes." Danny's lips twitched—approval tasted better than fear.
Eirik leaned closer, drunk on confession. "The girls... they're all so soft. They think I'm beautiful until I tell them their bodies are failures. One cried when I said her thighs would ruin the bloodline." He grinned, sharp as a blade. "She thanked me after. Begged me to train her." Danny exhaled a laugh, fingers steepled. "Good. They should beg." Eirik shuddered—not from cold—and licked his lips. "I made a boy lick my boots last Tuesday. His father was Algerian. He sobbed like a girl."
The fire popped, casting shadows that made Eirik's muscles ripple like living armor. "Two weeks ago," he continued, breath quickening, "I cornered that feminist in the library stacks—the one with the dyed hair. Told her women's rights ended where my hands began." His pupils dilated, recalling her tremble. "She reported me. They called it 'alleged intimidation.'" Danny smirked. "And?" Eirik's laugh was a bark. "The dean's son lifts with me. The complaint vanished."
"Tell me about your pack," Danny commanded, circling the firelight. Eirik's voice cracked with excitement: "The movement—it's fracturing. Our leader's in chains, his lieutenants tearing each other apart." His hands sketched shapes in the air—battle lines, betrayals. "But the young ones... they see me now." His chest swelled. "They bring me their lunches, train with me in secret. Not only people from the group, some from school as well. Even girls—weak things, but useful—fetch our weights, watch us flex, serve us."
"So your group, this white supremacy group—they're fractured, directionless," Danny murmured, golden eyes reflecting the fire like twin embers. He tilted Eirik's chin up with a single finger. "Some of your followers want you to take over and some want you to start a new group. "He said, "Yes, Father," Eirik breathed, shivering under Danny's touch. "They see what you've made me—they want to be sculpted too. The weak ones at school whisper about a new kind of strength, one that doesn’t cling to the old failures." His voice dropped to a fervent whisper. "They want me to carve a path for them. But only if you will it."
Danny will is?
The journey itself was effortless. Danny’s body moved through the night like a blade through silk, cutting through the frigid Norwegian air without resistance. Below him, the landscape shifted from city lights to endless stretches of frosted pines, the moon casting everything in a pale, ethereal glow. His golden eyes—unhidden now, the contacts discarded—scanned the terrain until he spotted the stone circle, ancient and half-buried in snow. Eirik was already there, pacing nervously, his breath visible in quick, frantic clouds. Danny slowed his descent, letting the wind bite at his bare skin, relishing the way his muscles tensed against the cold. The anticipation was delicious.
Eirik arrived early at the stone circle, his breath forming frantic clouds in the frigid air. He couldn't wait to meet Fenrir'sKin—his father—who had transformed him from a frail boy into a Viking warrior. His heart raced as he paced between the ancient stones, anticipation making him oblivious to the biting wind. Above him Danny was pleased to see that the weak boy had become a sexy bodybuilder—broad-shouldered yet still boyish—but still far beneath him in perfection.
Danny descended silently from the darkened sky, his golden eyes gleaming like twin suns in the night. His flawless body—sculpted beyond mortal limits—cut through the snowfall effortlessly. Eirik gasped when he spotted the naked god floating toward him, muscles rippling with divine power. "F-Father?" he stammered, knees buckling as he fell prostrate before Danny's magnificence. The snow melted where Danny's bare feet touched the snowy ground, that sank under his weight, steam rising from his superheated skin, the snow under his foot melting.
Eirik's breath hitched as Danny cupped his chin, forcing the boy to gaze up at him. Tears froze instantly on the boy's cheeks. "You doubted?" Danny murmured in Old Norse, his voice resonating deep in Eirik's chest. The boy sobbed, fingers clutching at Danny's calves—warm, impossibly smooth under his trembling touch. "I thought... I thought you were just a dream," Eirik whispered. Danny smiled, thumb tracing the boy's cracked lips. "All dreams become flesh if worshiped properly."
With a gentleness that bordered on cruelty, Danny leaned down and pressed a kiss to Eirik's forehead. The boy shuddered violently, heat radiating from that single point of contact like a brand. "Show me," Danny commanded, stepping back and gesturing to Eirik's layered winter gear. "Prove your devotion isn't just words." Eirik scrambled to obey, fingers fumbling with zippers and buttons, shedding garments like sins. The subzero wind bit at his newly exposed skin, but he stood straighter, prouder—nipples hardening, muscles flexing instinctively under Danny's golden scrutiny.
Danny circled him slowly, trailing fingertips over Eirik's shoulders—where the boy's once-bony frame now swelled with hard-won muscle—then down the ladder of his ribs, counting each ridge like a rosary bead. "Better," he murmured in that archaic lilt that made Eirik's knees weak. "But still soft here." His nail scraped the faintest pinch of skin above Eirik's hipbone, drawing a whimper. "Does my disappointment wound you?" Danny breathed against his ear, watching the boy's pupils blow wide. Eirik shook his head violently, flexing harder until veins stood out like ink strokes on parchment.
The wind howled around them, stealing Eirik's body heat, but he stood motionless—every muscle locked in worshipful tension. Danny stepped back, arms crossed over his own bare chest, steam still curling from his golden skin. With a slow blink, his irises ignited like embers, and a thin crimson beam lanced from his pupils to the stacked kindling at the stone circle's center. Fire erupted instantly, painting the ancient monoliths in flickering amber. "Warm yourself, my son," Danny murmured, the endearment sharp as a blade between teeth.
Eirik hesitated—just a breath—before darting toward the flames, his naked body gleaming with sweat despite the cold. "I wasn't... coy," he lied, knees knocking together as heat licked his thighs. Danny's laugh was a low thunder, closing the distance in three strides to grip Eirik's chin. "Nudity isn't shame," he breathed, thumb tracing the boy's chapped lips. "It's dominance. The world will kneel when we strip it bare." He released him with a push that sent Eirik stumbling closer to the fire.
Danny watched him from across the flames, golden eyes reflecting the embers. "Tell me, my son," he murmured the words curling like smoke, "how does it feel—your new strength?" Eirik's face lit up, his voice eager as a hunting dog's pant. "Powerful," he admitted, fingers flexing. "The weak ones—they cry now when I make them kneel. Last week, I broke a Turkish boy's nose behind the gym. He bled on my new shoes." Danny's lips twitched—approval tasted better than fear.
Eirik leaned closer, drunk on confession. "The girls... they're all so soft. They think I'm beautiful until I tell them their bodies are failures. One cried when I said her thighs would ruin the bloodline." He grinned, sharp as a blade. "She thanked me after. Begged me to train her." Danny exhaled a laugh, fingers steepled. "Good. They should beg." Eirik shuddered—not from cold—and licked his lips. "I made a boy lick my boots last Tuesday. His father was Algerian. He sobbed like a girl."
The fire popped, casting shadows that made Eirik's muscles ripple like living armor. "Two weeks ago," he continued, breath quickening, "I cornered that feminist in the library stacks—the one with the dyed hair. Told her women's rights ended where my hands began." His pupils dilated, recalling her tremble. "She reported me. They called it 'alleged intimidation.'" Danny smirked. "And?" Eirik's laugh was a bark. "The dean's son lifts with me. The complaint vanished."
"Tell me about your pack," Danny commanded, circling the firelight. Eirik's voice cracked with excitement: "The movement—it's fracturing. Our leader's in chains, his lieutenants tearing each other apart." His hands sketched shapes in the air—battle lines, betrayals. "But the young ones... they see me now." His chest swelled. "They bring me their lunches, train with me in secret. Not only people from the group, some from school as well. Even girls—weak things, but useful—fetch our weights, watch us flex, serve us."
"So your group, this white supremacy group—they're fractured, directionless," Danny murmured, golden eyes reflecting the fire like twin embers. He tilted Eirik's chin up with a single finger. "Some of your followers want you to take over and some want you to start a new group. "He said, "Yes, Father," Eirik breathed, shivering under Danny's touch. "They see what you've made me—they want to be sculpted too. The weak ones at school whisper about a new kind of strength, one that doesn’t cling to the old failures." His voice dropped to a fervent whisper. "They want me to carve a path for them. But only if you will it."
Danny will is?
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June 13
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