#i inexplicably show up with fantastic timing to all sorts of stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

Text

The Whipped Cream Incident

McDanno, 3k, A03, M

Summary: Pretty much what it says on the tin... the story of the whipped cream incident, as referred to in Risky Business (although you don’t have to have read that story to enjoy this one).

Steve’s had just enough whiskey to feel comfortably warm, when for some inexplicable reason, he blurts it out.

Danny’s eyes go wide, and Steve kind of forgets what he just said. Danny’s eyes are crazy blue right now, picking up the color of his shirt. He takes Steve’s breath away.

Danny moves closer to Steve, poking him with a finger until he focuses. “Steven. What are you talking about? Slowly, this time. Like a human.”

Steve aims a serious look at Danny. He loves it when Danny pretends Steve is a Neanderthal. It’s charming. “I just said I hadn’t done it before you, that’s all.”

Danny narrows his baby blues at Steve. “Done what?”

“Sex with a guy.” Steve doesn’t understand why Danny looks so surprised. He’d thought it had been pretty obvious, what with being completely closeted for so many years, and most of those in the military.

Danny abruptly stands up. “You maybe should have mentioned this,” he says, waving an arm around. “We’ve been together for weeks. Months-”

“One month, three weeks, two days,” Steve corrects him. “If you count from that first kiss in the hospital. If you count from when we got to Kono’s-”

Danny glares at him. “You should have said something.”

“Why? Does it matter?” Steve pushes down a pang of hurt.

A look that Steve absolutely cannot interpret flashes across Danny’s face, and then Danny shakes his head and sighs.

“No, of course not. Of course not. But we will be talking about this later. When we are less…” Danny waves his hand around, apparently indicating their general state of inebriation.

Steve grins, nodding. Fine with him. Danny grabs Steve’s hand and pulls him upright. Steve presses himself up against Danny’s muscled chest and is rewarded with a long, whiskey sloppy kiss.

“Mmm,” Danny says, briefly going boneless against him. “Let’s go upstairs and lie down before we fall down, sound good?”

Steve drapes an arm around Danny’s waist as they make haste towards the stairs. “Aye aye, sir.”

*****

In the morning, Steve wakes early and goes for a swim, as he usually does. Unfortunately instead of clearing his mind, it gives him too much time to think.

He doesn’t really believe Danny could be mad at him for not being experienced with guys. But it could be something related, something about identity, and that’s always a hard subject, especially for Steve, who has avoiding thinking about it for most of his life.

Although Danny has always played it close to the chest too. As far as Steve knows, none of their friends or teammates knew that Danny was bi until he and Steve got together.

Danny has told Steve about how he dated a guy in college, and he and Danny spent one memorable evening on the beach talking about their male celebrity crushes, but Steve has never volunteered many details about his own sexual history. There’s not much to tell, at least not where guys are concerned.

When Steve gets back to shore Danny is there, smiling softly as he hands him the towel Steve left on the sand.

“Morning, handsome,” Danny says, stretching up to kiss Steve’s damp face.

Steve feels a rush of warmth, and bumps his shoulder against Danny’s as they walk back to the house. Danny’s not mad, of course not. Although the fact that Danny’s already got breakfast laid out on the table on the lanai may be a signal that they’re about to have a talk. Steve figures he might as well head it off, so they can get back to enjoying their weekend.

“I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, but it’s true. I’ve never had sex with a guy before.”

“Okay,” Danny says mildly, sitting down at the table and stirring some sugar into his coffee.

“Why did you think I did?”

Danny stretches out his feet in front of him. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. I think it was when we were at Kono’s, one of those first nights, sitting outside in her backyard. Remember?”

Steve thinks back fondly to the misty garden behind Kono’s little Seattle home. “Yeah, I remember.”

“We were kissing,” Danny says, “and you said you forgot the feel of it.” Danny leans over and rubs Steve’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Stubble, you said something like you forgot what it felt like to kiss someone with stubble, but you liked it.” Danny cups his hand around Steve’s jaw and smiles. “So we kissed some more.”

Steve feels himself blush. “I did like it.” He takes a sip from coffee that Danny has left black, just as he prefers. “And I have kissed guys before. Two, actually.”

“But you never went any further, is that it?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. One was in high school – just a make-out session under the bleachers, very cliché. He wouldn’t give me the time of day the next morning in class, and then I moved to the mainland not long afterwards.”

“And the second?”

Steve shrugs. “Another teams guy. Years and years ago. We actually probably would have gone further, we were drunk and stupid with it, but we got interrupted.”

Danny looks concerned. “Did you get into trouble?”

“Nah, no one saw anything. But it put the fear of god into me, you know? I couldn’t let DADT ruin my career.”

“So you stuck to women.”

“Or, you know, just doing my job.”

Danny looks sad for a moment, and Steve braces himself for another round of poor Steve, he doesn’t let anybody in, too focused on his work to find someone to love, but Danny doesn’t go there.

“But you, um, you like what we’ve been doing?”

Steve hears it then, the slight echo of insecurity in Danny’s voice. Danny hadn’t realized he was leading this charge, that it had been on him, to the extent such a thing was even necessary, to make sure they did things right, and now he’s worried. Classic Danny.

He gets up and pulls Danny out of his chair, winding his arms around Danny’s fantastic shoulders. “I love everything we do together,” he says, letting his voice rumble low into Danny’s ear. “I wouldn’t have picked anyone else to take my boy-virginity.”

As intended, this makes Danny laugh out loud, and Steve ducks in to kiss him while his mouth is still open. Danny responds enthusiastically and starts to tug Steve inside.

“What about the pancakes?” Steve asks, trying to keep kissing Danny while stumbling into the house.

“We can reheat them,” Danny says.

“Hypocrite,” Steve gasps out, as Danny shoves Steve’s swim trunks off his hips and tosses them onto the couch. “You never want to microwave pancakes.”

“Is that really the conversation you want to be having right now?” Danny asks, looking up at Steve from where he’s crouched down on the floor, sliding his hands enticingly along Steve’s bare thighs.

“Just saying,” Steve insists, even as his breath flies out of him in response to the heat of Danny’s mouth on his cock.

Danny rolls his eyes with his mouth still busy, which is quite a sight, and Steve lets the banter go in favor of letting out a nice, long moan. He loves when Danny sucks him off, and loves sucking Danny off. And Danny seems to love it too, giving and receiving. It’s a sucking off love fest.

Afterwards, lying on the floor in the living room while the air slowly heats up with the morning sun, the rug underneath them slightly scratchy against Steve’s skin, Danny rolls towards Steve and props himself up on an elbow.

“I have a confession to make,” Danny says.

Steve mirrors Danny. “Oh?”

“I assumed, you, um, had more experience with guys than I did.”

“Well, I don’t,” Steve says, wondering why they’re going over this again.

“No, I mean…” Danny flops over on his back and throws an arm over his eyes. “I honestly don’t know if I can even say this.”

“Because words are usually so hard for you.”

Danny kicks a foot in Steve’s direction, and Steve pins it with his leg. He rolls over and flops on Danny’s chest, sticking his tongue out to taste the sweat trickling in between Danny’s well defined pecs.

“Are you trying to distract me?” Danny asks.

“Maybe you’re distracting me.”

Danny huffs out a laugh and slides a hand up and down Steve’s back. “Okay, whatever, just…” Danny takes a breath and then his words come out in a rush. “I think I was sort of waiting for you to take the lead with some stuff, even though that’s dumb, but maybe you were waiting for me to do it, and I want you to be, you know, good with stuff, with us together, and, yeah, I don’t even know.”

Steve peels Danny’s arm off his face and looks him in the eyes. “Danny, I am absolutely good with stuff, with us. If you’re worried that you’ve somehow pushed me into anything-”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Well, you haven’t.” Steve squints at Danny. “Is it the opposite? Are you bored?” Steve has been pretty satisfied with what they do in bed – or out of it – handjobs and blowjobs and various forms of rutting up against each other. It’s always fun, and sexy, and he has no complaints whatsoever.

Danny barks out a cackle, and then sits up, grabbing Steve’s discarded swim trunks and throwing them at his head. “No, you crazy person, I’m not bored.”

“But you think I’m too vanilla?” Steve asks, loving the way Danny’s face flushes pink at this.

“No, you’re not, what does that even mean, we’re grown-ass men,” Danny protests, his blush intensifying.

“Grown-ass men can have fun, too,” Steve says, waggling his eyebrows.

“I love how you think that face belongs in this conversation,” Danny says, but he’s smiling happily back at Steve. “And I didn’t mean you were too vanilla, whatever hipster meaning that has, but if you want to do other stuff, you know, we could, that’s all.” Danny’s clearly more than a little uncomfortable about this conversation, but he’s powering through.

Steve is intrigued, and more than that, ridiculously charmed by Danny, even in the middle of what should be an awkward talk about sex. Every day he falls further for this guy. “Come shower with me, I’ll show you how much fun grown-ass men can have,” Steve says, getting to his feet and reaching down to pull Danny up. It’s the weekend. They can mess around all day, if they want. This is his life now, and he loves it.

“Yeah?” Danny asks. “Okay. But only if we can take more than three minutes. I’m not interested in one of your ridiculous Navy showers.”

Steve grins and gives Danny a lecherous wink. “I’ll do my best. Age does have its benefits.” Steve ignores Danny’s groan in favor of pinching his naked butt as they run up the stairs.

****

The next morning, Steve is in the kitchen putting away groceries when Danny comes downstairs. Danny’s just finished his shower, and he’s naked except for a towel slung low around his hips. It’s a really good look.

Steve grins to himself, checking to make sure that the supplies he selected are within easy reach, and turns to Danny.

“Morning, handsome,” Danny says, walking right into Steve’s arms for a kiss.

“Look who’s talking,” Steve rumbles into Danny’s mouth. Danny is warm all over from his shower, and he smells great, clean and fresh but still himself underneath. Steve spreads his legs and leans back against the sink, pulling Danny in close.

“Didja miss me?” Danny asks, resting his weight against Steve and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Steve can feel the moisture from Danny’s damp chest through his t-shirt.

“Always,” Steve says. He nips at Danny’s ear, and Danny hums, pressing his towel wrapped hips enticingly up against Steve’s body. “Wanna take this upstairs?”

Danny tilts his head back and gazes up at Steve. “I’m good,” he says, humor pulling at his lips.

Okay then, Steve thinks, looking around his sunny kitchen as all the blood in his body rushes south. Might work better, anyway. He twists to the side, which brings certain very interested parts of his body into even closer contact with Danny’s.

“I bought something,” Steve says, or tries to, his breath catching as Danny sucks a kiss into the side of his neck.

“Yeah?” Danny asks, still concentrating on Steve’s neck, sliding lower to get to the tender skin just under his collarbone before pulling back for a moment to strip Steve’s t-shirt off.

The pause gives Steve a chance to reach into the bag on the counter, and he pulls out a bottle of whipped cream, presenting it to Danny with a smile.

“Oh no, you did not,” Danny says, his eyes going bright with interest. “Is that for…?”

“Ice cream sundaes,” Steve replies, trying not to smile.

“Right.” Danny slides his hands up Steve’s chest, his fingertips giving extra attention to his pecs and nipples. “Sundaes.” Danny flicks at a nipple, and Steve gasps as Danny quickly soothes it with his tongue.

“Danny,” Steve breathes out, one hand sliding down Danny’s body as Danny turns his attention to his other nipple. Soon he’s sucking at one while he flicks rhythmically at the other. Steve shudders.

“You like this, don’t you?” Danny whispers, his breath hot on Steve’s skin. Steve doesn’t answer, but he figures the way he’s practically panting and trying to worm his way into Danny’s skin probably does the trick.

Steve gives in to it, head tilting back, body on fire. He’s not sure what Danny is trying to accomplish, but he definitely likes it. He whines a little as Danny straightens back up, his mouth tracing kisses up Steve’s chest.

“Fuck,” Steve says. “Danny…” The towel around Danny’s hips slips to the floor as Steve gets a grip on Danny’s ass, giving him a squeeze.

Danny grunts his appreciation, then leans back as his hands fall to Steve’s waist. “Let’s get rid of these.” He tugs at the denim. “I think they’re in the way.”

Steve nods and Danny goes to work on Steve’s jeans, popping the button and easing the zip down until he can get his hand on Steve’s cock. Damn, that feels good.

“So,” Danny says, almost conversationally, as he strokes Steve, “what are your plans for the whipped cream, hm?”

Steve has pretty much forgotten about the whipped cream bottle he’s still gripping in his right hand, and he struggles to get the top off of it as Danny continues to palm his dick and whisper low and rough into his ear.

“Gonna spray it somewhere?” Steve sucks in a breath as Danny’s hand twists a little as he comes up over the tip. “Gonna spray it on me, and then lick it up?” Danny growls, licking a stripe up Steve’s neck as if in anticipation.

Steve hasn’t really thought through what, exactly, was going to happen with the whipped cream, but spraying it on Danny was the general idea. He can’t get the right angle on the bottle, though, not while Danny is doing that thing to him that makes him shake, but he’s trying, holding it behind Danny’s shoulders so he can get both hands on it.

“Or maybe I should put it on you,” Danny says, his hand slowing, just holding gently now. Steve groans and thrusts up into Danny’s hand, not wanting him to stop. “I could put a little dab just here,” Danny runs a finger along Steve’s length, and then suck you down-”

Just then, three things happen in quick succession.

An all too familiar voice shouts in surprise from the doorway.

Danny’s hips thrust hard against Steve’s.

And Steve sprays the kitchen, and a very shocked Junior, with whipped cream.

By the time they regain their wits, Junior is long gone, shouting “I didn’t see anything, oh my god, sirs, I’m sorry, I saw nothing, I’m leaving!” They hear the front door slam, and stare at each other, before breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. Danny slides his hands out of Steve’s pants and sinks to the floor, curled up over his stomach as he gasps for air, and Steve falls down next to him.

“You’re naked,” Steve finally says, sucking in a breath, and Danny looks down at himself, sitting on the floor starkers, and cackles.

“I know!”

“Junior saw you-”

“I know!”

“With the whipped…”

“I know!”

There’s a clinking sound and they see Eddie, who has cornered the bottle of whipped cream up against his water bowl and is licking it clean. There’s whipped cream on the kitchen island, and on the floor, and a little bit in Danny’s hair. Steve reaches out a finger and wipes it off, Danny glaring at him and then grabbing Steve’s finger and sticking it in his own mouth.

Steve grins, and then reality sneaks back in. His attempt at taking the lead and spicing things up between them didn’t exactly go as planned.

“I’m sorry, Danny,” he says ruefully.

“For what?” Danny has found a splatter of whipped cream on Steve’s shoulder and is smearing it with his finger.

“I’m sure you didn’t exactly want Junior to see you, all, you know…”

“Butt naked and jerking off my boyfriend?” Danny asks, grinning at Steve. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Do I seem upset? Why should I be, ‘cause Junior saw my ass? I have an awesome ass, and an awesome boyfriend. Junior’s gonna be jealous, but I can handle it.”

Steve catches Danny’s gaze, and sees nothing but fond amusement and steady love. “You’re really okay with this?” Steve waves his hand, indicating the general state of disaster that is the morning’s attempt at sexytimes.

“Are you kidding? This is the most fun I’ve ever had. And-” Danny stretches over and retrieves the can of whipped cream, “if you don’t mind a little dog spit, I’m pretty sure the can isn’t empty.”

Steve laughs again, batting the can out of Danny’s hand, and planting a fierce kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, which taste deliciously of whipped cream. It’s the most fun Steve’s ever had, too. And he doesn’t think it’s anywhere near over.

#mcdanno #H50 #H50 fic #Hawaii Five-O #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #sexytimes

34 notes · View notes

keyofjetwolf · 4 years ago

Text

Bonus Question Answers! (non-anime animated noms)

This was SO. FUCKING. HARD. This question went so much better than I expected, and I’m only sad I lack the artistic skills to make it all a reality.

Below, my PAINSTAKINGLY selected top answers, If yours is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

---

Q: The Senshi suddenly find themselves in a very different animated world. Which cartoon power (think Looney Tunes) do they each now possess?

* Usagi can make literal rainbows happen when she smiles. Rei can set anything on fire with her mind (she feels a bit cheated because she can do that at home too). Ami can write down anything in her special notebook and it literally changes reality around her (she does not share this with her fellow Senshi, because she knows the full weight of this power. She did, however, write Michiru having a bad hair day for just one day. Just one.) Makoto has the ability to pull out any ingredient she wants from any pantry/door/closet. She usually uses this for cooking purposes, so she won't have to purchase groceries. Minako has the ability to mimic any voice in the world, whether she has heard it or not. Hijinks ensue. The Outer Senshi sensibly escaped from the new animated world right after Michiru recovered from her bad hair day. They don't speak of the experience. -- @amberlilly [The whole thing was so solid, but what absolutely sent it over the top for me was Ami using her powers to fuck with Michiru in the most petty benign way, which is EVERYTHING.]

* Usagi is definitely rocking the exaggerated tear gushers. Ami can pull charts/diagrams out of nowhere at any time. Rei combusts when she gets sufficiently mad. Makoto has birds fly around when she sings while cooking or cleaning. Minako breaks the fourth wall to make jokes and asides to the audience. Chibi-Usa is somehow able to walk through ludicrous danger without getting touched, because the censors won't allow kids to be hurt in this show. Haruka can make girls melt into puddles of goo with her flirting. Michiru can summon a servant at any time to take care of an unpleasant or potentially dirty task for her (including to take the slapstick comedy for her). Setsuna has access to the script. Hotaru just sort of appears sometimes, just standing there, silently and menacingly, but never does anything on-screen (though you may hear the occasional off-screen screaming). Oh, and while I'd like to say Mamoru gains the power of inexplicable entrances... he kinda already has that one. --Darkcloud k'California [Again, I loved all these, but particularly Chibs saved by the censors, Michiru’s poor hapless slapstick avatar, and everything about Hotaru, thank you.]

* Usagi: The power to be found charming by every character she encounters and somehow escape all consequences and damage by simply remaining oblivious, a la Tweety Bird.

Rei: The power to explode, reducing her surroundings to charred wasteland, but remain relatively unscathed (perhaps a bit singed)

Ami: The power to grow multiple arms, hands, and hundreds of fingers in order to do tech stuff

Makoto: The power to punch someone through a brick wall, possibly several, and into someone's family dinner. It's always some surprised-looking family's private event. Often the same family.

Minako: the power to, Bugs Bunny style, apply lipstick and seduce ANYTHING. Which, according to her, is a power she already has.

Haruka: The power to run off a cliff and keep going until she looks down. She never learns to not look down.

Michiru: The power to stick a pin into any other character and cause them to deflate like a balloon

Hotaru: She just gets to actually be used. It is thrilling.

Pluto: She will observe this strange planet from afar with her huge telescope and breathe the Martian air and look great in a kilt and Roman-style helmet. -- @incorrecttact [Your set-up and punchline delivery style on all of these was perfection, and I legit lol’d at Mako and the poor family she continually interrupts.]

* to make dynamite go BOOM (Rei obviously); to have their opponent chase them to the point where they're floating in midair and then their opponent falls 5000 feet but they calmly walk back to land (like Wil E Coyote & the Roadrunner) (Usagi); the power to blow kisses to their opponent (which are clearly poisonous and end up killing the chap) (Minako); the power to have their opponent's entire arm shattered if they try to even punch them lightly on the arm (Makoto - this is canon anyways, but moreso exaggerated here hehe); to open a book and start reading it out loud and words start showing up on screen, confusing tf out of their opponent (Ami - also canon already) --@midnightdrops�� [Each of these were great, but Usagi and Mako as you described them totally sold me.]

* usagi: can now float on yummy aromas, so long as they lead her somewhere tasty! the others play a quick tournament of jun-ken-pon each time it happens to determine who will be responsible for steering her from blissfully drifting into traffic. again.

ami: is now possessed of x-ray vision! only she can neither turn it off, nor control its intensity. she is working on developing a set of goggles to dampen the effect, and secretly hopes they will make her look like geordi laforge.

rei: rei-chan is now blessed with the power of song! her heartfelt melodies soften the malice of even the most one-dimensional baddie, and influence public policy on a global scale. international success life, yo! i guess she's really a hard worker!

makoto: has become something of a cartoon cupid! in a poorly-ventilated room, her mere presence has bystanders declaring their love for one another within minutes*; and her decadent wedding cakes are the hit of second marriages across the country. *all of them so like her old senpai, and none of them falling for her, alas!

minako: employs her considerable powers of confidence and charm to convince the others she now has access to Plot Manipulation, mainly by engineering and taking ownership of a series of happy accidents. her real power is to literally jump out of her skin when she's startled*, and she has no intention of EVER letting the others know about it. *minako discovered this new ability while she was changing a roll of toilet paper, and a spider dropped onto her hand. the leader of the inner senshi had never been so horrified. her bones were so slick and cold, her skin a hideous unwiped pile, and then THE SPIDER CRAWLED INTO THE PILE and she STILL doesn't know if it ever got out and sometimes her skin itches REALLY bad and you know what let's stop talking about this right now okay???

setsuna: can now manifest a giant pencil and erase the enemy! but doing so would be breaking The Greatest Taboo, and leave her impaled upon the pencil.

haruka: her new empathetic ability is remarkably similar to Ma-Ti's "heart" ring (Captain Planet and the Planeteers, 1990 - 1996). basically, she's just like really soft at you, and it inspires you to take more positive actions toward yourself and the world at large? she protests about wishing she'd received something tough and intimidating, but secretly is very moved by being made an instrument of kindness.

michiru: her intuition has mutated into fourth wall awareness, and the subtlety with which she makes this known to you is SO GODDAMN UNCOMFORTABLE OH MY GOD

hotaru: can now not only communicate with inanimate objects, but also render them permanently animate! you should have been there during the princess tutu crossover episode when she met lamp-chan - they're STILL inseparable, and chibiusa is SUPER jealous. speaking of which,

chibiusa: can now use hammerspace to store her endless series of magical geegaws and weird animal boyfriends. -- @rasiqra-revulva [Dude, you have got to stop making me snort laugh, it’s RUDE. Pure solid gold, every word, with a special nod to Haruka, MICHIRU, and Minako’s extended tragic cartoon backstory.]

* Usagi - like her name suggests, she is now Bunny. By which I mean she is now a very pink and blonde bunny (somewhere between Bugs and Oswald the Lucky Rabbit), but with super-elastic limbs to accompany her new form. Ami - Magical Science Powers up to and including ‘mix one brightly colored liquid in flask with another brightly colored liquid in flask, explosion, get hammer.’ Rei - An infinite supply of dynamite she can pull out of nowhere. This shouldn’t be as useful as it is. Mako - Literally suplexed a giant metallic youma not just untransformed, but before she has Senshi powers at all. I fully believe she could lift an anvil in canon. Minako - While Usagi looks like a rabbit, Mina now has the supernatural trickster abilities of Bugs Bunny. Implausibly effective bad disguises, persuasion, showing up out of nowhere. Chibs - Now that gun from her first appearance is a real gun, but it shoots anything from normal bullets to pies in the face to live birds. Pluto - The fourth wall is a real and tangible thing. Pluto can not just break it, but control it. If she wants to remove a layer of cel or suddenly turn things into sketch, she can do it. If she wants to teleport, she can skip in the animation. If she wants to suddenly appear as a Roger Rabbit-style cartoon in a live action field, or vice versa? Yeah, she can do that too. She basically uses this power to warp the layers of her cartoonish reality for pastry acquisition. Haruka - You’d think it would be Roadrunner speed. Haruka thinks it will be Roadrunner speed. But no, it isn’t. Space Jam is Looney Tunes, and Haruka’s power is Basketball. Michiru - Another power that’s just canonical: Wealth. Ridiculous, tremendous wealth. Hotaru - The funniest thing for Hotaru to be in a zany cartoon world is Even More Spooky. Nothing changes except the artstyle and a ridiculous supervillain cape. -- Regalli [Pluto, man. Fantastic and brilliant and I legit WANT THIS. Also though, Hotaru with a cape.]

* Usagi gains the ability to eat anything and everything like the Tazmanian Devil, though she shares none of his aggressive personality; Minako enjoys fucking with people by bending reality (you know, diving into painted tunnels and stuff like that); Ami is able to utilize and test unreal technology without harm, like jet boots, massive bombs, tornado seeds, etc.; Mako uses body manipulations to change her size and shape--especially for blocking attacks to protect people or grabbing people (coupled with her immense strength); and Rei is the only one aware of the audience beyond the Fourth Wall... She tries not to talk to them but sometimes she just can't help it, especially when Usagi is getting on her nerves. -- @thehubby [I said pander to me, and you absolutely did. I can’t stop thinking about Rei trying not to make fourth wall eye contact, then just whirling around all “CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE THIS SHIT??!?” and as it turns out, that IS precisely what I wanted.]

---

I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry, so keep those answers coming! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.

#THE GIFTENING 2020 #THE GIFTENING 2020 admin shit #THE GIFTENING 2020 bonus q

17 notes · View notes

mobius-prime · 4 years ago

Text

260. Sonic the Hedgehog #191

Metal and Mettle (Part 1)

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Josh Ray

A few days after Scourge and the Suppression Squad have taken control of Freedom HQ, Miles alerts Scourge to an interesting and unexpected visitor - namely, Metal Sonic, through whom Eggman is speaking and watching.

Yeah, don't underestimate a fellow evildoer, Scourge. Meanwhile in New Mobotropolis, Sonic and Knuckles stand before the Council of Acorn to try to get permission to take the base back. Unfortunately for them, the council votes four to two to leave it for the time being, as they don't see Scourge as that big of a threat, and want to focus on taking New Megaopolis from Eggman before going after smaller holdings. Sonic, of course, does not take this well, and tries to talk to Knuckles about it once they exit the building.

Oh, Knuckles. You have to stop angsting about this, my dude. Sonic leaves the city on his own, musing as he races back to Freedom HQ about how despite their recent successes in battle, and many gains against Eggman and his forces, he can't help a strange feeling that overall they're losing ground. He hopes that kicking Scourge out of the base will cheer him up, but is brought up short by the sight of Scourge and Metal Sonic battling it out on the grass outside. Miles stands nearby watching, and not-so-subtly tests Scourge's leadership by asking if he wants help against Metal, as surely the others helping him would only be an insult since he conquered his planet on his own. Sonic, uninterested in any of the politics, merely barrels in to help, offering Scourge a truce to take Metal out, but Scourge angrily refuses, and both he and Metal turn on Sonic to attack. Meanwhile, Julie-Su finds Knuckles brooding on a bench in the park, and when she presses to know what's bothering him he snaps, yelling that he can't trust himself or anyone else, as no matter what he does, someone always ends up hurt, and he can't bear to face the few remaining members of his family. Julie-Su reaches for him, looking at first like she's going to comfort him, but then…

I mean, all things considered, Julie-Su, you make a fantastic point. Your family's loss has been largely glossed over until now - I don't think she was even given a single panel before now to mourn the deaths of her foster parents, despite how delighted she was to rediscover them before - and as you point out, it's not like Knuckles is suffering alone. Back at Freedom HQ, the fight continues, with Eggman telling Metal to hang in there as he's putting the "finishing touches" on some backup. Sonic and Scourge briefly wind up fighting each other without Metal's interference, during which Sonic criticizes Scourge for taking his advice to better himself to a brutal, negative extreme. Scourge merely mocks Sonic's restraint, pointing out how much more powerful he is as a king than as a hero.

Ooh, dramatic parallels to their prior talk! I love it! Metal interrupts before Sonic can respond, and as the fight continues once more we move this time to Angel Island, where Knuckles is having a talk with Archimedes while Charmy sits nearby.

So something that needs to be pointed out is that inexplicably, this is Archimedes' last appearance in the comic, ever. Unlike all the other characters who have disappeared from the comic, there's no reason given - no genocide, no dimensional portal to swallow him up, no deaths or sudden decisions to leave and find himself on another continent, nothing. He just… never shows up again. It's disappointing, as y'all know how much I like Archimedes, but again I really do think this stems from Ian's weird, irritating habit of erasing a lot of Kenders' contributions to this world. I know that he's trying to make the comic's world more like the games, and that in the games, Knuckles is the last echidna and isn't embroiled in all these politics, but dammit, there's nothing wrong with comic Knuckles being so different from game Knuckles! Personality-wise, he's still similar, still recognizable, it's just his circumstances that are different. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be blaming Ian for all of this - for all I know, Sega themselves ordered him to get rid of all of this stuff. I dunno, man, I'm just some random fan with a blog. Speaking of controversial decisions by Ian, though, it's nice to see him doing his best to treat Charmy's brain damage with respect here. He certainly acts more childlike than he once did, but he's doing his best, and isn't a punchline, still actively participating in missions and helping Knuckles sort his own problems out.

Anyway, Knuckles, encouraged by his mentor's words, uses his warp ring to head back to the city, where he and Julie-Su give a curt apology to each other with an agreement to sort things out more fully later, when he's had more time to work through his emotional distress. They consider heading to Freedom HQ to help Sonic, but Knuckles believes that Sonic can most likely handle the situation on his own. Of course, we know better - Sonic might be able to take on Scourge or Metal individually, but both at once is a real challenge. He kicks Metal aside, only to be startled by the sight of another robot coming to join the fray - a robot that looks exactly like Scourge. Wow, Eggman, you really didn't waste any time on that one, huh? How many Metal Sonics do you think he has lying around in his base just ready for a paint job and a new assignment?

Though there's another story in this issue, we won't be covering it. Why? Well, it's the first real installment of "In Another Time, In Another Place"! I've mentioned it before, but it's basically what Ian decided to do when it was clear he couldn't keep putting in half-adaptions of random games anymore, but still needed to do tie-ins for newly-released games. With the pattern we've been taking with these tie-ins lately, you'd think this one would be for Sonic '06, but nope! For whatever reason, Sonic '06 goes completely unacknowledged within the comic verse (at least for now), with the sole exception of Shadow joining up with GUN. However, as I've mentioned before, Ian did state somewhere along the way that Sonic '06 did in fact happen somewhere during the course of the comic's plotline - it's just that due to the very nature of the game's story, the events of the plot are entirely reset and erased from the timeline at the end, meaning an adaption doesn't even have to take place, as technically, even though those events did happen, they also… didn't.

But all that aside, the tie-in in today's issue is actually for the little-remembered DS title, Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood, which was an RPG developed by Bioware of all companies (and yes, they did include one of their trademark Bioware romance sidequests, though it's probably of little interest to anyone who doesn't ship Sonamy). While again, we're not covering it due to it being non-canon, it's an important thing to note regardless. For one, these In Another Time, In Another Place installments became pretty commonplace throughout the comic as new games were released, but perhaps more importantly, this was the game that apparently really got under Kenders' skin. The problem is that after all he'd done to develop the world of the echidnas and all the political and military factions thereof, this game's plot ended up heavily centering around a band of echidnas in dark armor emerging from a parallel dimension where time moves more slowly, with an intent to take the Master Emerald and use it to cement their place of power in the real world once more, though one female echidna realizes the error of her people's ways and abandons her army to side with Knuckles against her megalomaniacal and powerful male leader. Gee, sound familiar? While I don't believe that Bioware or Sega actually copied Kenders' ideas outright - the way I've described it makes it sound similar, but there's a ton of differences in the plot and presentation that definitely indicate they're two different ideas by different people - Kenders certainly seems to think it's a rip-off, and this was from what I understand at the core of all his problems with Sega that led to his eventual lawsuit that forced the reboot of the comic. It sucks, too, because even aside from losing all the years of history in the preboot, the plot of Sonic Chronicles was actually quite fascinating and it ended on a cliffhanger, which will never, ever be resolved because Sega doesn't even want to touch that can of worms after everything that happened. I think the game has actually been quietly stricken from canon, too, because the cliffhanger literally involved Eggman having taken over the world while everyone was away, and there's just no way to solve something like that offscreen. Just a bad time all around, folks. As they say in the fandom - thanks, Ken Penders. Still, though, we have quite a ways to go before we hit the preboot's end, so let's forget about the negative stuff and keep trucking on.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 191 #writer: ian flynn #pencils: tracy yardley #colors: joshua d ray

18 notes · View notes

davidmann95 · 5 years ago

Note

This week’s comics?

TOO

MANY

COMICS THIS WEEK

*Deep breath*

Batman/Superman #1: The surprise of the week for me! I was getting this almost grudgingly in the hope Williamson would transcend what I’ve seen as his limitations as a C+ writer inexplicably granted a position far beyond what his work’s merited, given how much I love the characters and because Marquez is AAA+. As it turns out, he did! Nothing spectacular, but this was a really solidly entertaining little start to an adventure, with a vibe as though Loeb’s own Superman/Batman was rocketed into the future and made to interact with Snyder’s current DCU superstructure. As that descriptor might imply your mileage may vary, but I quite dug it.

Justice League #30: Great stuff, the kick-off to I assume the final arc before an event book to close this epic out, but when do the Justice Legion show up that is all I care about in the entire world

Superman #14: I enjoyed it, but I’m definitely more than ready to see what’s next.

Action Comics #1014: An unprecedented Bendis super-two-for-one week! While Superman’s largely been my favorite of the two, today this came out on top.

Justice League Dark #14: This continues to just manage to hold my attention with some delightful flourishes, even though this sort of thing isn’t usually my cup of tea.

Martian Manhunter #8: Something of a return to form - I’d been getting somewhat disappointed with this book (though I’m sure it’ll read better in trade), but this grabbed me again.

Dial H For Hero #6: Good goddamn, just about any other week and this would have taken home the gold. Easily one of DC’s best, and leaving me considering going back through Humphries’ whole career given the possibility that while I’ve discounted him in the past I, in an extremely rare but I suppose not entirely unprecedented case, may have been wrong.

Ice Cream Man #14: I suppose you could call this something of a return to basics here, which is the opposite of a problem because the basics here are horrifying and spectacular.

Marvel Team-Up #5: Losing me quick, though I guess there’s only one issue left.

Captain America #13: This one’s tough to unpack. In terms of keeping my attention and keeping things moving this felt better than the last several issues, and I get what it’s going for, but its characterization of Cap...like I said, I get what it’s going for in reinforcing him as the stiff and trying to break him out of that. I’m the guy who considers MCU Cap one of the only times ever where I distinctly prefer the adaptation to the original, specifically because he feels so much looser and warmer. But there’s stiff in the way he’s traditionally been, and the way this issue portrays him, and I’m not sure I can bridge that gap with how he’s been portrayed over the years. In isolation though, still liked this one.

Absolute Carnage #2: Keeps up the pace! I remain shocked by how much I’m liking this one.

Venom #17: An extension of the above, and again, I like it.

Absolute Carnage: Miles Morales #1: Surprisingly disposable, tbh.

Spider-Man: Life Story #6: ...is one I’ll discuss when going into the series as a whole sometime soon. But yes, it really is that good, and the best of the week in a walk.

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #11: A perfectly enjoyable one-off - good to know that while Amazing’s passing me by, Pete’s in good hands even as Zdarsky moves on.

Avengers #23: Man, this book has gotten so much better since that wet thud of a first arc. Not up to snuff against its cousin in Snyder and company’s Justice League, but cut from a similar cloth and if you’re enjoying that absolutely give this run a whirl.

House of X #3: We’re definitely in the part where I think it’s gonna lose a lot of the new converts as the Earth-shaking reveals die down for now while remaining a resolutely Full Hickman take on the X-Men, and I for one am content to wave them goodbye as I ride this glorious train into the sunset.

Thor #16: A delightful ‘end’ - the true upcoming finale in King Thor notwithstanding - to one of the great runs of this decade. All-Father willing whoever follows up on this one plays with the toys Aaron and Del Mundo leave behind here.

Marvel Comics #1000: The big’un. And better, for that matter, than Action or Detective #1000. Not perfect by any means; there’s still a small handful of stinkers here (though the relative hit-to-miss ratio for this sort of project is unbelievably good here, hence the previous comparison), plus the much-publicized issues regarding the altered Captain America essay and the horribly skewed gender representation, PLUS that...THAT character of all characters gets a (second!) page for 2013 rather than Ms. Marvel. But for what this is, that it comes together as coherently as enjoyably as it does is honestly little short of a miracle. The advertised Ewing spine of the thing is of course great, and such a Ewing as HELL take on the concept on every level; that plenty of these don’t even nominally tie into it doesn’t bother me, since that throughline is exploring the background of a world the rest of this puts on display.

To set the record straight (going by years rather than characters/creative teams, since I feel like remaining spoiler-adverse here and it saves space): for me the actively bad ones are 1966,* 1995,** 1996, and 1999, and the notably good ones not by Ewing are 1943, 1944,*** 1949, 1952, 1959, 1961, 1962, 1965, 1968, 1969, 1970, 1973, 1977, 1979, 1982, 1984, 1992, 1993, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2007, 2008, 2011, 2012, 2014,**** 2015, 2016, and 2018.

So that’s about 5% bad, and counting Ewing’s contributions (aside from his oddly lackluster single page that isn’t part of his larger story), over half I’d call especially good! And pretty much all the rest of it ranges from decent to quite good, so again, by the standard of these sorts of anniversary anthologies this is basically a minor miracle. Very much looking forward to Ewing continuing his story next month and presumably the incoming 2020 event (a Ewing event comic! So rad!), and also hoping #1001 will correct the grievous Fantastic Four deficiency here.

(Minor SPOILERS for the final notes below)

* This, uh, felt like some real grouchy old man respectability politics business. Would have thought twice before, but given Priest’s recent Vampirella interview, I’m feeling a little more willing to jump straight to ‘this was bad.’

** Oh, Hickman. My boy. How could you? Even given you visibly didn’t give a shit, that was really all you had in the tank? And for the year I was born, no less! Johnny, you wound me.

*** Yeah, I know, believe me I know. But it’s still a good Cap speech - even at this late, largely lamentable stage of Waid’s career, he can crank those out in his sleep.

**** For what it is, i.e. a couple scenes from Apocrypha slapped together and redrawn with a couple DC names swapped out for Marvel names. Shamelessly, admirably lazy on Gaiman’s part.

#Week's Comics #Marvel Comics 1000 #Opinion

17 notes · View notes

puroresu-musings · 5 years ago

Photo

NJPW G1 CLIMAX 29 Day 13 & Day 14 Review (Aug 3rd and 4th 2019, Osaka, EDION Arena)

Day 13 (A Block)

KENTA vs. Bad Luck Fale **

Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Lance Archer ***1/4

Will Ospreay vs. EVIL ****1/2

Hiroshi Tanahashi vs. Kota Ibushi ****3/4

Kazuchika Okada vs. SANADA *****

Day 14 (B Block)

Tomohiro Ishii vs. Toru Yano ***3/4

Juice Robinson vs. Taichi *3/4

Hirooki Goto vs. Jeff Cobb ***1/4

Jon Moxley vs. Jay White ***1/2

Tetsuya Naito vs. Shingo Takagi ****3/4

Photos.

The G1 rolled into Osaka for the annual, and prerequisite, classic matches in the tournament. The A Block night on the 3rd was the stronger of the two, and very probably the best night of Block action so far this year, with three fantastic matches back to back. To kick things off, Bad Luck Fale defeated KENTA after a lot of Bullet Club shenanigans. KENTA worked hard here, laying into the big man with some stiff kicks, then turned a Grenade into Game Over in the middle of the ring. This caused Chase Owens to distract the referee as Jado came in with the kendo stick. The old timer misses with the cane and KENTA sends him packing, however the distraction allowed Fale to sneak up from behind and score the win with a school boy at 7:20 of a very frustrating bout. This was nonsense and the loss essentially eliminates KENTA from this years tournament. Oh well. Speaking of which, the next contest was between two guys who are also mathematically eliminated and members of Suzuki-gun, as ZSJ got the sneaky win over the considerably larger Lance Archer. This was really good, with Zack playing the annoying ant to Archer’s giant. After Zack would keep countering Lance’s power moves into submissions, the American Psycho finally hit a big chokeslam, which appeared to win the match for him, but he inexplicably lifted Sabre at 2. Archer then tried Blackout, but Zack rolled through into a cradle to win at the 10:43 mark.

The next three bouts were all tremendous in their own very different ways. Ospreay vs. EVIL was an excellent battle indeed, and featured a white hot crowd. These guys worked incredibly well together, with their different styles meshing seamlessly and producing one of the hottest closing stretches of the tournament. After Ospreay scored a near fall with the corner to corner dropkick, and EVIL rebounded with a huge Lariat, they went into a crazy strike exchange and counter sequence, before EVIL scores a near fall with Darkness Falls. The King Of Darkness tries Everything is Evil, but Will flips out and hits a massive Liger Bomb for a near fall of his own. EVIL ducks Hidden Blade and charges for another Lariat, but runs straight into the Spanish Fly and hits Oscutter for a super believable near fall. He tries the Super Oscutter, but EVIL catches him in a big half and half German, another big Lariat, and scores the win at 17:08 with the STO. Following that were Tanahashi and Ibushi in a rematch of last years final, one of the greatest finals in the history of the G1. This wasn’t as good as that all time classic, but it was a different match really. This was worked at a breakneck pace (it surprisingly only went 15:53), and featured some absolutely fantastic exchanges. After Tanahashi worked over Ibushi’s ankle, and Ibushi worked on Tanahashi’s knee, Tana attempted an HFF to the floor, but Ibushi countered into a springboard top rope Frankensteiner, and from here the match never stopped. Tana escaped that terrifying Lawn Dart into the turnbuckle spot, then tried Sling Blade, but ate a perfectly timed double stomp, and took the Lawn Dart anyway, which never looks fun. Whilst Tana rolled onto the apron, Ibushi hit his other terrifying move; the Deadlift German off the ropes into the ring for a near fall. After Tana escapes a Last Ride attempt, the two engage in an unbelievable strike exchange, which resulted in Kota getting a bloody mouth, and a Tanahashi hand print across the right side of his face, as the crowd goes crazy. Ibushi sold like he was KO’d, but spins round into his massive Lariat for the double down. Ibushi hits the high kick, but Tana counters Kamigoye into three Twist and Shout’s, hits a perfect Sling Blade, but misses the High Fly Flow. Kota battles back with the Boma Ye for a near fall, then Tanahashi counters another Kamigoye attempt into a small package for a believable near fall. Ibushi is up and hits the Ace with a big high kick, but Tana shakes it off and screams, only to eat another, then the match-ending Kamigoye for Ibushi to take the 2 points and eliminate Tanahashi from contention. There was a ‘passing of the torch’ type moment in the post match as the two showed respect for each other, with Ibushi being emotional at finally vanquishing his God (he’s only ever pinned him one other time previous to this, in the 2017 G1) and Tana rolled out of the ring so Ibushi could get his pop.

The main event had a lot to follow, but somehow ended up surpassing them in a highly dramatic match. This was great, and the best match I’ve ever seen these two have together (and probably the best of SANADA’s career). Whereas the previous bouts were super heated sprints, this was a slow burn classic which took its time to weave its tale, and teasing going the distance. Obviously the story here is that SANADA is 6-0 against Okada, having never beaten him once, and Okada is undefeated in this G1 thus far, looking invincible in the process, so SANADA had a hell of an uphill battle. The Osaka faithful were super into this from the outside, and everyone appeared to be behind the underdog SANADA, chanting his name throughout this. In reality, this was every Okada/SANADA match we’ve ever seen, until the closing stretch, which was insanely intense. SANADA tried the springboard dropkick, but Okada catches him in the Air Raid Crash neckbreaker, then tries Rainmaker, but SANADA counters into Skull End, which Okada flips out of after climbing the ropes, and hits a Tombstone. He tries another Rainmaker, but SANADA again blocks it, this time catching him in Keiji Muto’s Dragon Neck Screw off the ropes. They engage in a great forearm and European uppercut exchange, before Okada wipes Cold Skull out with his patented drop kick. Another Rainmaker is turned into Skull End again, but Okada escapes, only for SANADA to hit a Tiger Suplex for a near fall. SANADA lands on his feet after Okada moved from a Moonsault attempt, but manages to lock in Skull End. This time, Okada counters into two Rainmakers, then tries a third, but SANADA hits one of his own which blew the roof off the EDION Arena. After 25 minutes of action, SANADA locks in Skull End once more, this time for a long time, and Okada starts to fade. Red Shoes Unno was fantastic here, selling that Okada might be out and the he was going to stop it, but Okada begins fighting back as the final two minutes are called. SANADA releases Skull End, then tries the Moonsault, but the IWGP Champion gets the knees up. At this point you got the feeling like this was definitely ending in a time limit draw. Final minute, and Okada hits another dropkick, then tries another Rainmaker, but SANADA counters into a pop-up Ace Crusher. With 30 seconds left SANADA hits a Moonsault to the back, and another to the front to score his first win ever over Okada at the 29:47 mark. This was superb stuff with off the charts tension and drama. SANADA cut a promo in the post match saying he loved Osaka to send everyone home happy.

The B Block show on the 14th couldn’t possibly hope to follow that show, but it was still a really good night of G1 action. Firstly, Block action began with Tomohiro Ishii pinning fellow CHAOS stablemate Toru Yano with the Brainbuster in a great 9:36 match-up. This was Yano’s best match of the tournament, even if it probably was Ishii’s weakest, and was just super entertaining throughout. Yano kept trying to steal wins with cradles and roll-up’s and Ishii would constantly prevent Yano from hitting his low blows and shenanigans, destroying him with chops and forearms in the process. The Stone Pitbull finally hit the Sliding Lariat and the Vertical Drop for the win and the 2 points, meaning he’s ver much still alive in this thing. Taichi defeated Juice in a deathly boring 12 minute outing next. I didn’t like this at all, and reached a crescendo of ref bumps and interference, before spat whiskey in Juice’s eyes and scored the pin with Black Mephisto. Whatever.

Hirooki Goto and Jeff Cobb clashed next. This match too was just there, much like their uber disappointing NEVER Title match at the Cow Palace last year. On paper, these guys should have great matches togerther, however, they never click at all. The work was ultimately good, but it was just missing something, I feel. Goto scored the win at the 11:20 mark after hitting the Ushigoroshi into the Final Cut, then the GTR to get the 2 points. The Jay White/Jon Moxley match that followed, whilst very good, was another disappointment. Once again, there was just too much bullshit and shenanigans for my liking. There was a lot of stalling, a lot of interference, and the token ref bumps, all of which helped to dilute what should have been a very heated match, even if the closing stretch did save it somewhat. Moxley worked over Jay’s knee, locking on the Cloverleaf and an STF, before Jay came back with the suplex into the corner, a Saito suplex and the Deadlift German (which Moxley barely got over on), for a near fall. The Urinage gets a near fall for White, before Mox fires back with his release vertical suplex, which looked great. He then hit the Regal Knee Trembler, and a double arm DDT for a near fall, before White bumped the ref (yawn), and Gedo ran in and nailed Moxley with the brass knuckles. White then hit two sleeper suplexes, a cross arm Bloody Sunday, and the match-winning Blade Runner to end this at the 15:15 mark. I’m a big Jay White fan, I think he’s great and has a superstar aura, and I know they’re protected Moxley something fierce, but really, this sort of stuff does nobody any favours.

Thank God then for the main event, which was tremendous. L.I.J. exploded as Tetsuya Naito took on Shingo Takagi in a fantastic battle. Naito took an incredible beating here, and even though he won, he put Shingo over huge. This couldn’t really have gone any better, and came across like a classic G1 outing. They started with a nice chain wresting and feeling out process, but then Naito spat in Takagi’s face, which lit a fire under the Dragon. Shingo proceeded to destroy his stablemate with some of the hardest Lariats you’ll ever see. He countered a Tornado DDT into a Death Valley Bomb, then tried to cave in Naito’s chest with the Tenryu elbow off the top. Naito escaped a sliding lariat attempt, and hits an enzugiri. He tries the second rope reverse rana, but Shingo escapes and hits Noshigami. Naito counters a Pumping Bomber with a Koppo Kick, then hits Gloria for a near fall. Shingo hits a nasty looking Wheelbarrow German into the corner, then tries the super Death Valley Bomb off the second, which Naito turns into a Frankensteiner. Naito hits the reverse rana, but in trying a Destino, he runs straight into an ungodly Lariat, which looked like it killed him. A Made In Japan attempt is turned into a Dragon Suplex by Naito, but Shingo finally hits M.I.J. for a great near fall, followed by a Pumping Bomber, which decimates Naito, for another near fall. Last Of The Dragon is turned into Destino. They have a strike exchange, which Takagi obviously wins, crumpling Naito with a headbutt, but Naito hits a brainbuster out of nowhere for the double down. Naito hits a Canadian Destroyer, then Destino, but Shingo kicks out at 2.9! Another Destino follows, and Naito finally puts Shingo away at the 27:15 mark. This was fanatastic, and had a great backstory with both guys training at Animal Hamaguchi’s gym as teenagers, and being rivals. The ending was never really in any doubt, and even though I’d have preferred Shingo to have won this, he lost nothing in defeat, in fact he gained everything in that it was very similar to the Nakamura vs. Ibushi G1 23 match at this very building, which was a star making turn for Ibushi.

After this, the standings are that only Okada, Ibushi and EVIL are alive in the A Block (though KENTA holds a tie breaker over Ibushi and EVIL), so only one of those could realistically win, whereas the B BLock has Moxley in the lead, and a whole log jam of guys tied at 8 points. Those being Naito, Jay White, Ishii and Goto.

NDT

10 notes · View notes

writerman · 6 years ago

Note

idk if u still take barduil prompts but if you do! here’s one: person A is the first person to pray to a particular god/spirit/whatever in a few hundred years, so the god/spirit(person B) shows up to personally answer the prayer and then refuses to leave until the prayer is answered in full - bonus points if person B figures out texting (A sets out an offering of wine as part of their deal with B and gets a text from an unknown # complaining about the vintage) also extra bonus for use of emojis

I AM ETERNALLY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. IT’S JUST I GOT CARRIED AWAY AND IT GOT VEEERY LONG AND OTHER STUFF HAPPENED.

ANY WAY....

Just to confirm how long this is... It’s a 10k prompts response and I honestly hope you enjoy it.

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

Bard tossed the letter onto the countertop a sour look on his face as he did so.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle any further rejection, with the growing pile of letters from failed applications mocking him as they lay innocently on the countertop in the tiny kitchen; just what would it take to turn things around?

If it wasn’t jobs it was people, Bard couldn’t seem to catch a break when it came to dating either… though recently he hadn’t really tried. His ego could only take so much before he learned the lesson of humility and just gave up.

The cosmos was clearly working against him, and if any deities existed, well, they absolutely had it in for him.

With a bank account almost always in the red and his love life being the punchline to his joke of a life, Bard was finding it hard to get out of bed in a morning.

Thankfully, though he really did not feel good about the situation, his money woes were only something he had to contend with. His children were well taken care of with their mother, and while he would have been overjoyed to have had them live with him after the divorce, it just wasn’t feasible.

The reality was that he just could not afford to take care of the kids on the meagre salary he was on, a delivery driver for a pizza place was nothing to brag about and the majority of the time Bard found himself being the oldest one delivering pizzas, a blow to his already low self-esteem.

While he knew he could survive (just) on packet noodles, coffee and the odd free pizza here and there, he knew his children couldn’t, and while they would have thought it was fantastic, Bard could never allow it to be their reality.

With these thoughts still swirling in his mind, Bard grabbed up his keys and, with what little cash he had, left the house for the day. The sunshine beating down on the pavement lifted his spirits already and with the sound of the city as his music he headed toward the park.

Getting out would do him wonders, it was better than sitting around moping in the tiny apartment using utilities he could scarcely afford. At least out in the city he had more chances of bumping into friends or even the future Mrs Bowman… who knew?!

The city park was the perfect place to be in the summer, people spent their entire weekend there walking with their dogs, rowing on the lake or just sitting in the sun chatting idly with friends and family. It eased Bard’s worry to see the residents of the city out delighting in the summer days, it was likely they all had their own concerns- but out in the sun, the world seemed more carefree worries were pushed to the back of minds in favour of gossip and jokes.

At first, he had planned to take the route around the lake, but the sheer amount of people crowding on the banks and walkways had him take a left turn into the wooded area instead.

Bard and the kids had walked these paths many times, sometimes going off the trails in hopes of finding an undiscovered area- much to the children’s displeasure, they never found anything new. Sometimes the odd squirrel but nothing to write home about.

So engrossed in thoughts of his children and their time together it took Bard quite some time to realise he was now on a very unfamiliar trail, and for a good 30 minutes or so had not passed a single soul nor could he now hear the sounds of the park behind him.

For a moment he did consider turning back, the sun now barely filtered through the tree canopy high above his head, the shade was chilly. Logic kicked in not seconds later, and he pushed on, after all, this was just a seemingly tame adventure. He was in the park the only thing that could happen to him would be that he’d get locked in at night and sleeping in the park in summer didn’t seem all that bad.

What he stumbled upon next was startling.

The dense trees broke, and Bard stepped into the clearing before him. There stood tall and proud towering above him and past the tree line was a temple.

He couldn’t recall right then if he’d ever noticed a building in the park like this one before. Though the pristine white stone and dark curling ivy over the columns would be hard to miss.

The entire place was fascinating already from the outside! All this before he'd even stepped inside, without hesitation, he hurried up the steps to an intricately decorated archway and pushed aside the leafy tendrils of ivy over the entryway and walked in.

He was greeted with the sight of hundreds of lit white candles dotted about the room some nearly completely melted while others looked as though just freshly lit and yet, so far, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

His eyes roamed the room taking in more and more as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. There may have been candles but the place was so intensely dark, even the light they gave off seemed to be sucked into the darkness. There was a stone platform at the back covered in fresh cut flowers, and more candles, and as he moved toward it he noticed coins glittering under the golden light of the flames.

He faltered for a moment and wondered if he was trespassing during a sacred moment.

Nothing made a sound as Bard stood waiting and listening for any minute sound that may give away there was someone with him. After a moment or two of silence, Bard figured he was alone and proceeded to wander over to the platform.

It was set up more like a stage, there were 3 stone steps up to the platform itself and there were 4 exposed beams set up in a square above it, a golden hand censer hung above swaying lightly while incense smoke poured from it, though Bard felt inexplicable terror at the fact the thing was swinging in a non-existent breeze.

One of the steps had a brass plaque set into the stone, not unlike some points of interest that cities often had to commemorate a moment in history.

This one simply said:

State your wish.

A deep hearts desire.

Symbolise your worship.

A gift of thanks.

Pray to this God.

Or Beg.

Ominous.

Though it took no time for Bard to realise that this was all very likely a tourist trap rather than an actual temple built to praise an ancient God. Even if it was all awe-inspiring, it seemed a waste as there did not appear to be many visiting.

Still, he couldn’t deny that the place was beautiful and he surveyed the room again. It wasn’t huge, absolutely not big enough for any sort of Sunday congregation, so he assumed it was something more in line with Pagan worship. His eyes drifted up towards the ceiling, there were long thin stained glass windows high above him letting in very little light, though with what sun that managed to shine through he could see scenes depicted as just like any place of worship he had seen before- well more reminiscent of Christian places of worship but still…

Oddly enough, he didn’t recognise the scenes, nor the Gods or people immortalised in the striking colours above him- but then he wasn’t well read on any one religion, and to some, it could have been ridiculously obvious who and what this was all about.

Regardless, the glass was beautiful, and Bard found himself staring up at a blue-eyed gaze for quite some time- such an engaging face for something created out of glass and metallic salts.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to humour whoever built this and say a prayer. My life can’t get any worse.” His voice was a whisper, this whole place filled him with a trembling sort of dread as though his soul knew something he did not and a shudder shook through him.

An offering, if he wanted the God to even consider his words Bard would need to leave an offering of some sort. There were plenty of flowers already-- he didn’t really have anything that could be classed as an offering, after all, who came out for the day prepared to leave a gift to an ancient God?

Digging around in his pockets he found the spare change he’d left with that morning, it wasn’t much, but surely it was something. Something was always better than nothing… sometimes.

Without any further hesitation, Bard moved away from the steps back toward the platform itself, he dropped the coins onto the dusty stone before him.

The clattering sound of metal on stone echoed around the room. Bard jolted back at the jarring sound as it broke the reverent silence of the temple, his body tense as he waited as though the noise could wake the God and it would appear terrible and wrathful before him.

Nothing happened.

Candles flickered around him as he moved away from the offering stone, his eyes moved to the stained glass momentarily before his gaze shifted to the walls- ah! Another plaque- this one was set into the wall adjacent to the platform.

Bard navigated his way through the candles until he was close enough to read the sign.

Temple of the Forest Guardian.

Thranduil the Benevolent.

God of the Greenwood and protector of all within his realm.

The sole ruler of the vast and beautiful forest known as the Greenwood. Thranduil lived to serve and protect his people and all manner of living creatures that resided within his realm.

So well loved was he that upon his death the Gods of his people gifted him with eternal life and a magic to ease the suffering of many. When he awoke his people were overjoyed, and they lived for many years in the peaceful land.

Over time the numbers of his people dwindled this left the God to care for the forests alone with nought to speak with, only that which could not speak in return.

How many times had Bard read a story like this?

“Still a lonely life for a God- having eternal life and watching your people die from old age…” It was horrible and would drive anyone mad with grief.

It was only then that Bard realised how cold it was despite the myriad of candles that haloed him in a golden light. While shivering, Bard made the decision to offer a prayer and a wish- like his earlier thoughts, there was nothing more he could lose from trying.

Back at the platform Bard arranged the coins taking care not to touch the stone itself, he felt as though it was only polite not to touch anything that did not belong to him.

With a deep breath, he stood tall and uttered a prayer in an awe-filled whisper.

“Guardian of the forest, here my words… uh… I gave an offering so that you might not be lonely, I wish the same for myself. Help me find the right path and lead me to love and wealth. Thank you.” It was startling how right it felt to say such things, and how little embarrassment he experienced as he spoke. His wish had been for love and, but honestly, he just wanted someone there with him.

His divorce had been, thankfully, smooth and relatively pain-free aside from having to come to terms with the fact his wife wanted a quick divorce so she could marry another.

There were no ill feelings for his wife in Bard’s heart, he did not want to stand in the way of love and what they had was true love. It was just that he was now alone and at that moment he was painfully aware of it, growing up and getting married was what he wanted and not once had he ever imagined being prepared to lose that- you cannot prepare yourself for that.

He remained in the dark temple for some time lost in thought letting the incense soak into his clothes and letting the candles bathe him in their light- it was such a beautiful place, but he had to leave.

The light of the day would fade eventually and navigating through the dark woodland with only a phone light was not on his list of fun ideas for the summer. Secretly, he admitted to himself that wandering through the woods at night scared him, the sound of twigs snapping metres behind him when he had been sure he was alone just screamed horror movie.

With that thought in mind, Bard pushed himself to leave and stepped back into the clearing, the sun still fought to break through the canopy above him and Bard had to shield his eyes as he glanced up noting the sun was still high in the sky.

Birds sang from tree branches, the chorus a sweet and beautiful sound but jarring after the silence of the temple. His senses were overwhelmed by the outside world, so he took a minute to collect himself.

The rest of his day went by without incident, he headed out to his delivery job later that evening and eventually fell into bed just after midnight irritated by what life threw at him.

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

It was the smell of coffee that woke him later that morning. The alluring aroma forced him to open his eyes, he was greeted with the white ceiling of his bedroom above him.

Imaging the taste of coffee helped him fight off the last vestiges of sleep as he sat up stretching out his back to ease the ache of having a terrible and cheap mattress.

It was odd though, Bard didn’t remember buying any coffee recently- he was fresh out of cash for that luxury because like an idiot he left it at that tourist trap temple the day before.

Whoever had made coffee in his apartment- THERE WAS SOMEONE IN HIS APARTMENT!

Bard shot out of bed and bolted down the hall to the kitchen, he skidded to a halt at the threshold and stared at the stranger who was stood holding a Starbucks cup looking decidedly unimpressed by his surroundings.

In a split second their eyes were on Bard, and the cup was offered out to him.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

They didn’t speak Bard took this opportunity to try and organise his thoughts into some semblance of coherent, it wasn’t going well. A strange man was stood in his kitchen offering him coffee, a strange man with startling bright eyes and white blond hair… a strange, and handsome man.

Realising that he was staring openly at the trespasser, Bard lowered his eyes but not before he caught the blond smirking at him. Anger finally boiled up along with the courage to speak and look at the stranger, however as he opened his mouth he was instantly cut off as the home invader spoke.

“Pitiful offering for this day and age but it was enough to buy a mocha if you want it?” Bard hadn’t expected the man’s voice to be so deep and smooth. So taken aback by the sound of it he momentarily forgot his anger and stood wide-eyed and if not a little bit stirred up.

“Who the Hell are you and how did you even get in here?!” He’d found his voice again, though it was difficult not to shriek and in stifling such his words came out weirdly garbled all the while he stayed rooted to the spot by the kitchen door that led back into the hallway.

An escape route?

“They always ask how I got in and not why I came in the first place. Honestly, humans never change. I do not know why I assume they ever will…” The blond spoke quietly as though speaking to another out of view.

Bard hoped with all that he was that there was no other there and that he was not outnumbered.

The odd way he spoke, referring to people as humans- what did he mean by that?

The stranger offered out the coffee again slowly tilting from left to right as though trying to coax a small animal from a hole. Bard frowned, and yet he stepped further into the kitchen and took the still warm cup.

Every instinct within him screamed for him not to drink from the cup, his last act of self-preservation failed, and he took a sip. It was what the man had said it’d be… a mocha from Starbucks.

This seemed to please the stranger as he moved from behind the counter that had once separated them. Bard watched wearily as the last barrier between them was removed. He was approached by the blond though he didn’t appreciate having to look up a little, so they were, somewhat, eye to eye.

Bard reflexively took a step back.

“Allow me to introduce myself as you seem worryingly unaware of who I am.”

“You’re a madman that broke into my house to give me coffee.”

The snappy response from Bard left the other laughing aloud and beamed down at the burnet as though he was the sun and Bard felt a blush creep up his neck.

Beautiful laugh, beautiful hair, beautiful eyes… urgh.

Pushing aside such thoughts Bard ignored the panic rising in his chest and continued to challenge the man by looking him in the eye unflinchingly.

“Well, you were the one that invited me to help you. You invited me in and asked me to help you with your wish, did you not?”

Silence fell around them as Bard let those words sink in, oh how smug they sounded, his stomach felt like ice… was this the God he had prayed to yesterday?

“Are you…. Thranduil?” No, he couldn’t be because Gods were not real and that temple was just a joke for park-goers to enjoy ‘discovering’ while out with their kids!

“Guardian of the forest and all within it, a pleasure to meet you, Bard.” That velvety tone again- wait, how long had he been in his apartment if he had had time to snoop around and find out his name?!

If he was a God, he didn’t need to check someone’s mail to know their name. Bard felt as though his legs would give away without a seconds notice as he tried in vain to make sense of anything that was happening.

“Shall we speak on why I am here?” Thranduil asked gently he put a hand to Bard’s shoulder and steered him to a chair at the tiny dining area in his kitchen and made him sit down. “You asked me to help you, you’re looking for wealth and love- but ah, before I forget, I must thank you that regardless of your wish you included me in your thoughts. While it does feel as though your thought was born from pity, I shall not look a gift horse in the mouth or whatever the saying is…” He trailed off and watched as Bard silently assessed his situation; there was a far off look in his eyes, and Thranduil found him strangely charming.

Meanwhile, Bard was using the power of repression to stomp down the gay panic that was steadily rising every time Thranduil spoke to him. It took a lot for him to steady his racing thoughts, and for a moment Bard believed he could very well still be dreaming; if it hadn’t been for the warmth of the drink still in his hand, he could have believed he was still sleeping soundly in his awful bed.

“I-if you’re that Thranduil guy, aren’t you unable to leave the forest, how are you here?” It had just slipped out and Bard he was quite surprised at himself for remembering such a small detail.

“I appear ready to grant you your heart's desire and you come out with this?!” Thranduil sounded tired as he spoke and just a little bit unimpressed at the question, and yet, with an overly dramatic flourish the God produced a map from thin air and spread it out over the table and gestured for Bard to lean in to get a better look.

He pointed a long pale finger at a spot on the map at the edge of what should have been the city park and gave Bard a pointed look.

“My temple, you see there in that large area of greenery?” His tone sounding incredibly patronising as his finger pressed harder at the spot on the map, he was definitely a little peeved with Bard but he kind of had right too.

Bard studiously forgot that the map had literally just appeared from nothing in front of his very eyes and instead looked at the spot with a nod- he had to avoid Thranduil’s pale blue gaze… there was something so otherworldly about it as though he had seen everything and had to endure it in silence for eternity.

It was frightening and thrilling all at once. Inwardly his mind was yelling for him to leg it out of the door and not look back until he was far, far away and yet he remained in his seat.

“Great, now can you see this point on the map that is the forest, so much forest you can scarcely comprehend it, that is your house. So, now you can ask me how I am here.”

Bard had the decency to look sheepish before he spoke eyes still on the map.

“You never left the forest, even if the trees are no longer there it would still be your forest, right?” He felt awful because humans were definitely the reason the once vast forest was now stuffed into the corner of a city park and fenced in wrought iron. “Sorry…” He mumbled.

For a split second Thranduil looked genuinely touched at Bard’s apology though it didn’t last long and his expression turned grim as he turned to look back down at the map. It was a long time before he spoke again and when he did his voice was quiet and impossibly sad.

“I don’t know how you found the temple… I had thought it was hidden away well enough that humans would pass right by it and it would remain unseen, I know that defeats the object of helping others, but when those people want power, and I gave it, I found my forest getting smaller and smaller.

In the end, I sealed away the temple to save the forest, to protect it and yet… somehow you found it and, well, I am glad you did.” He said nothing more and the map faded into nothingness while Bard sipped his drink and Thranduil stared at the table top.

“You’re glad I came and dropped some pocket change in offering and asked for romance?” It truly sounded funny when put like that and Thranduil smiled to himself before he huffed out a quiet laugh.

“You’re the first person is a long time who came in gave an offering, made your wish and didn’t touch anything. You took in the room and appreciated it before leaving.”

“You like to keep things simple, I see.”

“Well, when you get to be as old as I am you enjoy things being simple, you know; quiet worship, incense… Starbucks.”

“So why did you buy me coffee, the offering was for you, this should be your drink.” Bard set the near-empty cup down on the table and watched as Thranduil gestured to a trash can, another cup lay innocently on top of a badly folded up pizza box.

“I had other stops on my way before I got to you. Plus, I thought it would help in getting you to trust me if I came bearing a gift of coffee, human’s love this stuff early in the morning and you seem to be of no exception to this observation.”

Well, that was fair, it was true. Bard craved coffee all the time it was clearly an addiction, but this one was, for some reason, socially acceptable.

He offered Thranduil a shrug as if to say ‘I don’t know what to tell you.’.

“Anyhow, we’re deviating from the actual reason I am here. As the God Thranduil, I am here to grant your wishes and your desires.” If he had been expecting whoops of adoration from someone he was in for a shock, however, Bard couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed by the man. He was also horrified at how easily he had accepted that this man was a God with just some sleight of hand magic anyone could do.

Bard found him genuinely charming, he was well spoken and transparent in his reasoning for certain actions and open about his past, there was the coffee too, that helped a lot. If this had been a first date, Bard would be smitten - a date with a woman! NOT a man… no not a man- not this man.

With a jerky motion, Bard slapped his hand to his chest over his frantically beating heart and took a deep breath hoping to calm himself down.

“So, you’re going to help me find a girlfriend?”

“Or boyfriend.” Came the pointed reply.

Bard flushed nearly scarlet. “Ah, no, just girlfriend.”

“I see, so you cannot look me in the eye because…?”

“I wished for a girlfriend, so I get a girlfriend.”

“Actually, you wished for romance. Just so you know, I cannot make people fall in love with you, I can set you up in an ideal situation to meet someone, this does not necessarily mean it would be a woman…” Thranduil offered the burnet an innocent smile and shrugged though it didn’t seem to calm the other down. “Well, this seems like a touchy subject so let us move on, and we can have a chat about wealth. This is easily done, but some specifics on how you would like it to happen would be welcome. A mysterious windfall cannot just be explained away by saying you were lucky enough to win the lottery. It also depends on how rich you want to be.”

“That’s the thing,” Bard exclaimed as he turned in his seat, so he was fully facing the God. “I don’t want to be a millionaire or anything. I want a job that pays well enough for me to get out of this apartment and enough so that the courts will allow me to see my kids for more than a few hours a week.” His emotions were seesawing from one to another, the excitement building in him was tempered by nerves and just how this man was going to help him pull this off without causing a stir.

“The thing I want more than anything is to be a teacher, to use my degree in art and history and help kids learn. I know it seems strange to say I want to teach and not be in a teaching job with all the listing- there's a bloody outcry for teachers, but I just can’t catch a break my interviews are always awful- urgh, that’s only if I actually get one!”

Thranduil was stunned at just how alive Bard became when he spoke about teaching when he spoke about living his life. This man wanted to get out of a rut and give something to the world, even if it was small he wanted to educate people and people with a good education could change the world.

This man inadvertently told him he wanted to change the world.

“I can help you with that; get you set up with a nice private school job or just any teaching job and who knows, you could end up meeting someone there.” It was easy for Bard to accept Thranduil’s words as he was saying everything he wanted to hear, that and he was happy just to have someone that wanted to help even if nothing came of it.

The phone on the countertop began ringing and Bard dove across the room grabbing the receiver from the cradle; when he looked back, Thranduil had gone leaving no sign he had ever been there besides the Starbucks cups.

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

His ex-wife had called explaining that Sigrid was unwell, too unwell to go to school and she needed someone to take care of her while everyone was out at work. Bard readily agreed and headed over as soon as the call ended.

On the drive over he had time to think on all that had happened that morning, how his life could change for the better. Also, how he had to do some soul searching and some internet research because the feelings that beautiful God stirred up could not be contained and Bard did not like it one bit.

He would leave things be for now. There were more precious issues to deal with like his sick daughter and the time he would get to spend with her that day.

Sigrid crawled into the back of the car in her pyjamas wrapped in a blanket she brought from her room. Bard felt awful for her, she was pale and sluggish barely able to keep her eyes open as she greeted him before lying over the back seat.

Driving home was slow going but when they did get to the apartment Bard set Sigrid up on the sofa and propped her up with pillows and wrapped her up in another blanket. Keeping her warm was a priority now he had to try and get her to eat.

She had already dozed off so Bard took the opportunity to pop out and grab a can of chicken noodle soup, it had always been her favourite when she was sick and he hoped it would still be her favourite so that he could entice her to eat.

When he returned to the apartment can of soup in hand he paused in the hall, there was a familiar voice coming from the lounge, a very deep and velvety voice that Bard had grown accustomed to all too quickly.

Sticking his head around the door he found Thranduil sat on the floor by the sofa reading to Sigrid, her attention solely on him as he read aloud from a book of old fairy stories Bard had kept from when she was small.

Bard knew he should have been furious that Thranduil had broken into his home again but he could see Sigrid was comforted by the story and it allowed him to make the soup without worrying she might need him for something.

Thranduil was gone when Bard returned with the soup, he didn’t mention him and he refused to address the feeling of disappointment that the God had left again without even speaking to him.

“Da, that man that was here…” Her voice was rough from all the coughing but it didn’t stop the apparent tone of curiosity coming through as she eyed him between bites of her soup, which he urged her to continue eating. If she was eating she wasn’t asking questions about Thranduil that he may not be able to answer.

“That man that was here,” Bard repeated quietly, his gaze not meeting his daughters as he studied his hands intently-- so few words from her and yet he felt he was on trial.

“I’ve never heard you speak about him before, he said you were friends, how did you meet him?” There it was, the question he had been dreading because he couldn’t lie to her because he was terrible at it, she would see right through him.

“Yeah, new friend. Nice guy, we met recently he’s doing me a huge favour.”

“What kind of favour?”

Did she have to sound so suspicious?!

“He’s helping me get a job.” It wasn’t a lie but he left it very bare of any further detail, and he hoped it was enough to sate her curiosity.

When he looked over she was already falling asleep again and he caught the empty soup bowl before it fell from her hands. Well, that was one way to avoid answering any questions.

He got up making sure to tuck Sigrid in properly before heading to the kitchen to wash up. Bard half expected Thranduil to be there when he entered the kitchen but there was no trace of him.

In fact, he didn’t see Thranduil again for three days.

Eventually, Bard became impatient and went to the temple leaving a bottle of wine he bought using tip money from his job.

Setting the bottle down on the platform Bard spoke his prayer, which was far less elegant than last time.

“So, Thranduil are you still going to help me, I really need to know if you can or not because I’m seriously concerned I just let a madman into my home and believed he could grant fantastical wishes. Anyway, enjoy the wine.” With that, he left and headed out to his delivery job- job was a job even if he wasn’t pleased about it.

Midway through his shift, his phone buzzed and several text messages came through at once.

[UNKNOWN] *green faced emoji* This wine is terrible!

[UNKNOWN] How much was this?! An awful offering you should be ashamed.

[UNKNOWN] *cry face emoji* I know I am being ungrateful but it’s so awfuuuull!!

There could be only one person texting him like this, and with a sigh, Bard began composing a reply. Before he could even start typing another set of messages came through.

[UNKNOWN] Your prayer was lacking the reverence it held the first time. Also I am absolutely offended you questioned my power.

[UNKNOWN] IN ANY CASE!!! I am helping you, things take time, Bard! *Tongue sticking out emoji*

Supposedly, he was to trust this man…

With a shrug, Bard pocketed his phone then had a near-fatal heart attack when a pale hand smacked the driver’s side window.

“I cannot believe you just ignored my messages!”

Thranduil.

Winding down the window Bard gave an apologetic smile while Thranduil huffed and puffed about being ignored for a little while longer.

“You want me to apologise for being too poor to buy you good wine?”

“...No… but a response would have been nice. No wonder you’re so unlucky in love, is this how you treat all the texts you receive?” The fact that Thranduil could and did text was far too funny to Bard and he burst into peals of laughter. Eventually, he calmed down and leaned out of the car window a little.

“You’re genuinely the first person to text me in months, sorry.”

Thranduil didn’t respond, his expression was soft now, and his eyes seemed filled with a sadness that had been harboured within him for thousands of years. For a moment Bard saw the God searching for something, perhaps words to ease the tense feeling that now surrounded them or an excuse to leave him…

“Can I get in?” The blond asks quietly, he waits for Bard to nod before walking around the car and climbing into the passenger seat having to nearly fold himself in half to seat himself properly.

Feeling generous Bard leaned over Thranduil as best he could, his chest against the other’s legs as he did so, and pulled the lever that pushed the seat back. Once it was far enough back for Thranduil to unfold himself Bard sat up and started the car.

“Let’s drive and you can tell me what you have planned for me.” He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, and his blood roaring in his ears. Nothing was alright, nothing was fine because he was very aware of how attractive he found Thranduil but he had no idea how to handle such feelings.

“Ah…” Thranduil stalled a moment and Bard was surprised to see him looking pink-cheeked and, somewhat, flustered as they slowly slid under street lamps that lined the roads into the centre of town. “Send off an application to the school of your choice, all will work out there without a hitch. Are you not more interested in finding this one true love of yours?”

That stopped Bard short. He couldn’t lie, he hadn’t thought about it since he last spoke to Thranduil; so lost in the idea of getting a job it seemed romance had fallen by the wayside.

Was he still looking for love?

When the wish was uttered he had been feeling hopeless and lonely, but with Thranduil popping up at random times he found that he was not so sad about being alone. The fact he would be getting a job soon; would he even have time for romance?

“Let’s just focus on getting me a job, you said yourself I might meet someone there.” He tried to brush the subject under the carpet as casually as he could. There had to be something else he could talk about- Thranduil.

The God probably never got to talk about himself.

“So, I know my daughter could see you but are you ever only able to be seen by the person making the wish?” Was he visible to only himself right now, was Bard driving along in his car talking to himself?

“I can’t do that invisible to everyone but one thing, I am either visible to all or I am not.”

“So you just walk around dressed like that all the time?” Bard asks gesturing to the long white robes Thranduil was currently wearing, they were beautiful but they made him stand out in a crowd. “As if you need another reason for people to be staring at you.” These words were spoken under his breath but oh Thranduil had heard them and how his face glowed and a slow smile began to form on his lips almost feline his bright eyes on Bard.

“Oh ho, what sweet words you do whisper to me, where did this bravado come from?” There was a purr in the blond’s voice, that smug purr when an ego was stroked without prompting.

Bard kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut, lips tightly sealed as he mentally scolded himself-- he had to reign himself in that comment had slipped out and for a hot second Bard wondered if it had even been him that had spoken. Of course, it had been but it had just come so naturally… flirting with this man should not have come so easily to him.

Though, he supposed it was good practise for when he met the woman that could potentially be his future wife.

If he could stomach the idea of marriage again.

It was the least appealing act he could imagine in that current point of his life, he did not want a replay of his first marriage.

It wasn’t all bad but heartache takes a long time to heal and Bard had never quite forgotten the feel of it, even if it was just the ghost of an ache in his chest now.

Bard pulled up outside of the pizza place and cut the engine, Thranduil was looking out of the passenger side window but he looked back toward Bard when he realised they’d stopped moving. Nothing was said about their conversation not minutes before, Thranduil had the good sense to drop the sound of crowing joy from his voice when he spoke again.

“The girl that works at the counter likes you… a lot.” They both looked over toward the pizza place, they could see a red-headed woman at the counter, well, she was barely in her 20’s and Bard’s insides squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of dating her.

“She’s 20 years old or something, I’m 37 that’s... Thranduil, she’s a baby.”

“Ahaha, do not get the wrong idea. I meant only that you are desirable to many, the woman at your local supermarket that works the help desk, she thinks you’re utterly fantastic. The point I am making is that- I know you are hesitant about being with another person and that you believe yourself to be the bottom of everyone’s list but you’re not.

You’re the hero of your own story and the heartthrob in someone else’s. While you see yourself as…” He pauses as though trying to find the right words, “Oh how would you put it, ah yes! While you see yourself as a dork- yes, I think that’s right, other’s see you as sophisticated and even sexy.” Bard almost choked on air when Thranduil referred to him as sexy, though a wheezing and awkward laugh followed as he tried in vain to brush the comment off as nothing.

“I need to get back to work, but you keep talking utter nonsense about me while I deliver pizzas. I am up for a laugh tonight.” He exited the car while Thranduil frowned after him though he did not move from his seat and only watched Bard hurry into work to grab a stack of pizza boxes all ready to deliver.

They spent the night together delivering pizzas, Thranduil made a habit of coming to the door with Bard so they could continue their conversations, it resulted in Bard being tipped more than usual which he was thankful for even if he was not absolutely enamoured with the fact that Thranduil so was damned smug about it.

“I’ve still got it.” The blond stretched out in the car arching his back like a cat as much as he could in the cramped space, “I mean, I there was never a time I was ever led to believe I had lost it, but still tonight proves I am eye candy to ladies and gents in this day and age.” He glanced over at Bard as he said the word ‘gents’ but Bard was too busy checking his phone for more delivery requests.

“Go home, Bard. You need sleep and don’t forget to apply for the teaching job, I can’t help you if you do not meet me halfway.”

“Fine, fine, I suppose I can call it a night. The sheer amount of tips because…” He loathed to say it but pushed through even while Thranduil smirked victoriously, “...because you were around all night means I can go home early.”

“Hmm, it sounds good to hear you admit that.”

Thranduil vanished before Bard got home which was perfectly fine with him as he hadn’t really wanted that awkward goodbye with him, how did you ask a God to leave so you could get some sleep?

Thranduil had probably just known. In any case, he had been the one that insisted he go home and sleep.

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

Bard took it easy the next week, he filled out the job application online and sent it off as soon as he could then paced his kitchen floor for an hour fretting about the whole thing nearly calling out for Thranduil.

If he called would he come?

In the event that he truly needed the man he could just text him but once he had the job of his dreams would the blond retreat back into the shadows and close himself off from the human world?

Would he remain unheard once he had gotten all he had wanted from Thranduil?

What did Thranduil want in return for offering him a new life on a plate?

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

The call regarding the teaching job came late Friday afternoon. A meeting was scheduled for Monday morning and Bard had never felt such a seesawing of emotions as he hung up the phone.

An interview.

The opportunity to teach again. It had been so long since he had stood at the front of a classroom, the thought of teaching groggy teenagers in the mornings and trying to grasp their attention, it was a thrill and a challenge Bard absolutely needed and wanted.

Maybe an offering to the God he owed this to would bring him luck.

He tapped out a text asking if Thranduil was around.

The response was immediate.

[Thran] I might be…

[Thran] What do you need?

The tone came across as cold though he may have just been busy or Bard was reading way too into the message and it actually was just neutral because most of the time texts had no tone without some emojis or text speak.

[Thran] Don’t keep a man waiting!!

[Bard] Sorry!! You don’t have to be so impatient. I was worried I was bothering you.

[Thran] *Roll eye emoji* Doing what exactly? I’ve had no friends for 300 years.

[Bard] Okaaayy. I just wanted to know if I had to leave you an offering at the temple or if you would just prefer to come pick it up?

[Thran] …

[Thran] What do you have for me?

[Bard] You only seem interested when I have something for you.

[Bard] I’m joking. I was just going to cook for you, if you'd like that?

“Well, with an offer that generous how could I stay away?” The sarcastic drawl came from a spot very close behind Bard and he clenched his hands into fists as though it would stop his heart from beating right out of his chest.

“Can’t you at least try and walk through the door like a normal person?” Bard moaned as he turned to face the God. He was greeted by the blond in a relatively modern-looking outfit, his hair was in a long thick braid over one shoulder away from his face for once.

The clothing was what caught Bard’s eye, black jeans showing just how damned long Thranduil’s legs were paired with what looked like a very soft cashmere jumper in a dark forest green.

It was then Bard had to come to terms with the fact he was ridiculously attracted to the blond, though admitting it to himself would be as far he would go… could go. It didn’t seem feasible or even remotely possible that anything would come from this attraction.

Just more questions to keep me up at night… Bard offered Thranduil a crooked smile and gestured for him to take a seat at the tiny dining table.

“You look good, you suit a more modern look, is this you trying something new to bring in potential worshippers?” Bard moved around the kitchen grabbing ingredients from the fridge and a cutting board from the cupboard, when he looked over to Thranduil for an answer he found Thranduil sat staring at the table top looking very troubled.

“Are you ok?”

“Once you get your job teaching, I think it is best I no longer visit you, Bard.” His tone was resolute and while Bard wanted to argue he resisted. If this was to be how it was who was he to argue?

Hasn't that always been the case?

He had left offerings for this God to help him and then once the job was done he would leave. The problem was that now he thought about it he didn’t really like the idea of not seeing Thranduil again.

There would be nothing you could do to convince him… just agree and let him have his own way. There was a heavy feeling of unease in his stomach but he nodded set down the knife he had been holding.

“All right, if that is how it has to be.” Being in agreement with Thranduil left a tight feeling in his chest and he found he wasn’t really hungry any more. “Kind of putting a damper on dinner though.” At his words Thranduil stood up from the table he gave Bard a curt nod.

“Yes, I shall take my leave now. I hope you have everything you want now, Bard. It has been an experience getting to know you and your life. I am… I’m going to miss you. In the short time I’ve known you I have not laughed so much. Your company has truly been appreciated. Please, promise me that no matter how much you think you need to, do not look for me.” With that he vanished leaving Bard well and truly alone for the first time in 2 weeks.

“Well, fuck.”

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

The interview was a breeze and Bard started his job the following week. He was given an office and his own classroom.

The students were a boisterous lot but Bard found them all charming and brilliant in their own ways, even the troublemakers had won him over with their inventive backtalk. All in all, he loved it-- he was in love with his job and he finally felt he was taking a step forward in life rather than treading water.

Not only was working going great, but he also had someone take an interest in him, one of the admin staff at the school had asked him for coffee, it was casual but Bard definitely got the feeling it had been considered a date.

While he was genuinely ecstatic that someone wanted to get to know him and for there to be a chance of romance something didn’t feel right. Lydia was beautiful, pretty grey eyes and golden blonde hair that hung in natural curls down to her shoulders. Her smile was as sweet as her laugh but it didn’t nothing for him.

Some nights Bard would lie in bed staring up at the ceiling as car headlights from the street below threw shadows across his room, he would grip the bed sheets with both hands and force himself to think of something… anything… memories or even the day's events, just something to plug up the emptiness he felt inside.

What was wrong with him?!

After weeks of suffering through the ache of loneliness Bard made the conscious decision to break his promise to Thranduil and he headed out to the park to find the temple. He brought no offering only a quiet sort of fury he hadn’t realised he had been holding on to.

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

The sun was already low when Bard entered the park. Most people were packing their things away to leave, and no one seemed to notice a man in a shirt and tie heading for the woodland area at the back.

The trees felt oppressively close as Bard tried to find his way through them, even on the pathway he felt as though they were closing in on him, a warning for him to turn back but the warning went unheeded and the brunet pushed on with more purpose than before.

It felt as though it took an age to find the clearing again, and when he did Bard glanced up at the tree canopy to see the sky between the branches had faded from gold and orange to lilac and blue, the inky dark of the night slowly rolling in above him with no regard to the world below it.

Without any further distractions Bard entered the temple and was confronted by a furious looking Thranduil stood among the candles, they flickered violently as Bard entered the building, but it was the look on Thranduil’s face that stilled him.

Had he made a mistake?

“I told you not to do this, why can’t you just trust me?” For all the fury on his face, Thranduil’s voice was quiet no ire in his voice only sheer exhaustion. “Why couldn’t you have just gotten on with your life instead of haunting mine?!”

The stunned silence fell over them almost immediately and for a second Bard couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat, after a moment or two the roar of blood in his ears returned and brought him back to Earth.

Gods, he hurt, more than he had expected to when coming to the temple but Thranduil had sounded wounded and scared more than angry and Bard knew he couldn’t leave until he got to the bottom of the God’s odd behaviour.

“I wanted to see you, don’t I get to ask why you suddenly cut off all communication?”

“Why would you think I would tell you anything, do you think we’re friends?” Scathing, words intended to cut deep but Bard pressed on, he wasn’t leaving until he absolute knew Thranduil wanted nothing more to do with him for the rest of eternity.

“We could be friends-- what are you afraid of?”

The temple was plunged into darkness as every candle went out leaving Bard effectively blind, there was no time for him to let his eyes adjust to the dark, trusting his sense of direction he moved forward with confident strides one hand reaching out until it connects with the soft fabric of Thranduil’s robe.

“Answer me, why can’t we be friends?”

“Don’t… Bard, please.” The blond begged desperately a warm hand covered Bard’s as he pried open the burnet’s fingers releasing the fabric. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” His voice shook as though fighting back intense emotions but Bard didn’t move and instead he grabbed the front of Thranduil’s robe again keeping a connection while still unable to make out the other in the pitch black.

“Is it… because I’m human?” The question came out a whisper, it was entirely possible that Thranduil had tried to hurt him to spare himself the pain of losing a friend to death. It didn’t make him feel any better knowing this could be the reason.

“Oh, Bard. Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?” A pained response though there was a tired sort of exasperation colouring his tone, “But yes, I stopped seeing you because I realised how much I enjoyed your company and I could see you were fond of me. I was frightened to continue our friendship because I knew I’d lose you sooner or later.”

If Thranduil had not mentioned friendship it would have sounded like a confession of love, maybe he did love him but not in the way Bard thought he had… not in the way Bard had wanted him to.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve made a mistake.” Hurried words as Bard released Thranduil at the same time moving back creating space between them, though the black void around them revealed nothing of how much space.

“I can’t fucking see… Thranduil I have to go. I’m sorry- having a friend like would have been great… I’m so sorry.” With that he stumbled back towards what looked to be the exit, the faint light clinging to the doorway showed him back out into the clearing.

Heaving air into his lungs Bard cursed himself under the stars before breaking out into a run into the darkness of the woods, he didn’t deviate from his path and soon he was back out in the open of the manicured grass lawns that were the city park.

A night shift security guard ushered him out and Bard flopped onto a bench on the street to gather his thoughts.

One thing he was positively sure of… He was definitely falling for Thranduil and Thranduil wanted nothing to do with him.

He couldn’t blame the God, Bard would age and die, he’d be a terrible friend regardless of how much he cared for him they just weren’t compatible. They couldn’t be friends, they couldn’t be anything and right then Bard wanted nothing more than to drain a bottle of wine.

So that’s what he did, on his walk home he stopped off at the store and bought a marginally better wine than the one he had given Thranduil then headed home and drank a bottle and a half of cheap red wine.

Strangely, it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation just regretful that he hadn’t fought to convince the God that they could continue to see one another. Bard was sure he could just be friend with Thranduil, this new found bisexuality was something he still had to learn about so taking things slow seemed the right idea… until he picked up his phone and started texting Thran.

[Bard] I bought better wine.

[Bard] Incase you r might be intrestd

[Bard] moght already be durnk

The room spun in a jerking fashion and Bard gripped his phone a little tighter in his hand just in case that would help- it didn’t but it was a valiant effort on his part.

The phone buzzed in his hand and Bard looked down to see a response to his messages.

[Thran] Stop drinking you’ll hurt yourself.

[Thran] Go to bed and sleep it off.

Giddy at the fact he’d enticed out a response out of the blond Bard set to responding, or at least he tried but the code on his phone was difficult to remember and being such a lightweight he was too drunk to realise that the code was literally 0000.

Eventually, after much cursing and many threats made to the device Bard managed to unlock it.

Another text had come through in the meantime.

[Thran] I’m sorry that things ended the way they did. You might be too drunk to read this properly and take it all in but… The reason I pushed you away is because…

[Thran] I am not doing this via text. Go to bed I will speak to you in the morning!

The sun shone bright and cheery into the lounge of Bard’s apartment and directly onto a now extremely groggy and hungover educator- his mouth felt like a desert and his head pounded feeling as though an elephant had tap danced on it all night.

Groaning he sits up still in his clothes from work the day before. Thankfully it was a blessed Saturday which meant Bard could suffer the consequences of his actions in relative peace. Well, that was until he padded into the kitchen the get water and he found Thranduil stood in the exact same place he had been when the first met.

Only this time he looked grim, was dressed like a modern man and was holding a glass of water out to Bard his eyes full of disapproval and smidge of sympathy.

“I thought seeing as I may have been the reason you got wasted drunk last night… it seemed only fair that I take care of your this morning.” Bard took the water but he winced as he moved and Thranduil looked mightily concerned when Bard went a shade paler than he had been before.

“Get into bed. I cannot believe how drunk you were ls night. You are so irresponsible!”

“I know, I know… you sound like my wife.” Bard joked as he hobbled down the hall holding his delicate body rigid as though that would save him from the never-ending waves of nausea that battered his entire being.

Never had he imagined that someone could feel sick right down to their toes, and yet here he was experiencing it with the least sympathetic man in all of creation standing over his bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes, well if I were you wife you’d not be in this state.” Thranduil’s retort came out harsh at first but by the end of his sentence his voice had softened and he was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing Bard’s hair, that was plastered to his forehead, off his face. “If we were married you probably wouldn’t be very happy.” There was something hesitant about the way he spoke as though he had dared to dream of something so domestic as being married to someone.

“Would I be unhappy?” The brunet questioned, he elaborated when Thranduil gave him a searching look as though trying to fathom what on earth he was talking about. “How could a man be unhappy looking at someone as beautiful as you every day knowing that he was married and that they felt the same?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bard. You don’t know what you’re saying, you must still be drunk.” The God scoffed brushing off the compliment though now his cheeks were a faint pink and he was busying himself with ensuring Bard was comfortable but somehow doing it without looking at him.

“Would it be ridiculous, if two people care for another why can’t they be together?”

“Therein lies the problem, dear Bard. Both people have to have the same feelings.” Thranduil explained simply.

Bard frowned.

“Don’t you care for me?”

“Of course I do, it’s you- oh…”

“Oh, what?” He sits up though it was a mistake to do so as the room did a lovely turn for him and his stomach flipped with appreciation, Bard enjoyed none of this. “Thranduil, oh what?”

Thranduil merely offered him a satisfied smile, he took a cleansing breath and forced Bard to lie down again all the while deftly removing the man’s tie to save him from choking while he recovered.

“Rest and get over this hangover, I will be here when you wake up.” Leaning down he pressed a soft kiss to Bard’s forehead when he didn’t get a reaction he sat up about to huff and puff that his gesture should have been a huge sign to the other man.

However, before the words could leave his mouth he noticed the other was already flat out asleep.

“You, sir, are an idiot, but stars do I love you.”

#Thranduil #Bard #Barduil #The Hobbit #Prompt #10k words #bee-king-official

26 notes · View notes

f4liveblogarchives · 5 years ago

Text

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #131

Fri Jul 26 2019 [10:33 PM] Wack'd: John Buscema's stepped out for a moment--just as Crystal's apparently stepped out on Johnny!

[10:34 PM] maxwellelvis: With Quicksilver, of all people. [10:34 PM] Wack'd: (A big hand for Ross Andru, guys gals and nonbinary pals!) [10:35 PM] Wack'd: Look Crystal just has a thing for guys with inexplicable hair quirks [10:35 PM] maxwellelvis: quietly mouthing "QUICKSILVER?!" in a parked car [10:36 PM] Umbramatic: she likes guys with Anime Hair [10:36 PM] Wack'd: Aw jeez this actually *is* not what it looks like, ain't it

[10:37 PM] Wack'd: fucking

[10:39 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Lockjaw teleports her around a bit and eventually they end up in the middle of a Quicksilver/Sentinel bout, which ultimately concludes with Quicksilver nearly crushed beneath the giant robot [10:39 PM] Umbramatic: GET IN THE ROBOT QUICKSILVER [10:40 PM] Wack'd: And Crystal Florence Nightinggales on him *hard* [10:40 PM] Wack'd: So it, uh, is actually what it looks like [10:41 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Johnny and Pietro try to beat the crap out of each other [10:41 PM] Wack'd: But are interrupted by earthquakes in the city [10:42 PM] Wack'd: HEY UH THE INHUMANS HAVE SLAVES??? THAT'S KINDA BAD

[10:43 PM] maxwellelvis: I kinda figured they'd have something like that. [10:44 PM] Umbramatic: oh [10:44 PM] maxwellelvis: You don't get to where the Inhumans are without stepping on SOMEBODY on your way up [10:45 PM] Wack'd: Anyway so it turns out Maximus isn't responsible for these tremors, but he did build a perpetual motion machine [10:45 PM] Wack'd: Which they sent Medusa to get Reed to examine [10:46 PM] Wack'd: Hence her presence in NYC during the Frightful Four stuff [10:46 PM] maxwellelvis: I feel I should point out that the ORIGINAL underground worker race in spec-fic, the Morlocks, were actually the ones in control, with the childlike Eloi being kept as food for them. [10:46 PM] Wack'd: The Inhumans don't have phones apparently? So they have no idea what's taking Medusa so long [10:47 PM] Wack'd: (I suppose this explains a lot about the Johnny/Crystal courtship, thinking about it) [10:48 PM] Wack'd: Alpha Primitive revolt! Fuck yeah~ [10:49 PM] Wack'd: Oh good naturally Johnny's siding with the Inhumans [10:49 PM] maxwellelvis: One thing that does bug me about film adaptations of The Time Machine, by the way, is how each major adaptation shows increasingly more sympathy for the Eloi [10:49 PM] Wack'd: Aaaaaand they've kidnapped Crystal. The ish's not long on sympathy, here. [10:50 PM] maxwellelvis: These Alpha Primitives, I take it they're some sort of Neanderthal or anthropoid? [10:50 PM] Wack'd: Karnak manages to collapse the building they're in with them inside and the Inhumans are like "actually, this is the second time they've tried to kill us, so fuck them" [10:51 PM] Wack'd: An Alpha Primitive

[10:51 PM] maxwellelvis: Disappointing that they just look like guys [10:52 PM] maxwellelvis: I was expecting them to look like Morlocks or something [10:52 PM] Wack'd: Yes, I could tell [10:53 PM] Wack'd: So Johnny and Pietro go after Crystal and-- [10:53 PM] Wack'd:

[10:54 PM] Wack'd: "Look, I'm all for slavery in the general case, but if you're going to kidnap one of the slavers I'm dating, the only ethical thing to do is take an anti-slavery stance" [10:55 PM] Wack'd: (Also--"even slaves may have slaves"? Uh, no, being deprived of the rights of ownership is part of what "slave" means in the modern sense. Fuck off)

#1973 #Roy Thomas #Ross Andru #The Main Book

3 notes · View notes

punkpoemprose · 6 years ago

Text

Siege of Arendelle- Chapter Fourteen

Universe: Canon- Post Film Rating: M (Mature) Length: 3172 Words

Something like nine months later I’ve finally written the next chapter! I’m hoping to get back on a weekly or bi-weekly update schedule for this fic if I can help it, especially because there’s some stuff coming up in the next couple chapters that I’m really quite excited about. Thanks for sticking with me guys!

There’s a little flashback sexiness in paragraphs 3 & 4 if you want to skip them.

Previous Chapters

One day’s journey had brought them further than they had thought it would. The forest around them had been eerily quiet as they climbed up higher into the mountains. Like the environment, all had been silent between them as Sven pulled the wagon along dutifully. Gone was their usual playfulness, and Anna’s heart already ached to be back at the cabin. She had spent years without physical affection, without someone looking into her eyes and seeing something more than a Princess there, and now she could hardly stand a moment without his fingers intertwined with hers.

There was the comfort of her thoughts that once they stopped for the night, he would be sleeping at her side just as he had in their shared bed. There were to be few moments of comfort on their trip as they were both thoroughly shaken by even the mere concept of what they were attempting, and so Anna had to look forward to the small, simple moments of intimacy that she could count on at the end of the days before them. It paled in comparison to the nights she’d experienced with him previously.

Her birthday was the night she summoned to mind most often. It was the second and last time they’d been intimate, and he’d brought her to climax twice with his mouth before they’d even truly begun. He’d had her moaning out his name and all but begging for him to fill her. She remembered how he’d looked in the candlelight looking up at her with mussed hair, his mouth still working away on her lips in a way that made her legs quiver involuntarily with even the thought. He’d turned and smiled against the skin of her inner thigh, expression debauched as if he had felt her pleasure himself. His hair had been so mussed by her fingers that pieces stretched out in all directions.

He’d given in to her pleading. He could deny her nothing, even this insane trek into the Hinterlands. He’d brought her thus far, always doing what she asked of him. He would not abandon her or drag her back to the safety of their home despite his clear longing to do so. Her whims, logical or not, seemed of great importance to him. He’d tell her that she was crazy and speak logic to her, but he’d follow her to hell and back or make love to her from dusk to dawn all by her command.

Despite the chaos that was crashing onto their shores, she couldn’t help but be thankful for the way the situation had given him to her and her to him, fully and without reservations. He’d wanted to marry her. It was a truth that made her ache for the refuge of his home, their home where she could make love to him and unabashedly return all of the kindness he had shown her.

She promised silently as he helped her from the wagon that if they survived this, she’d be married to him by whatever means possible and as quick as could be. He’d shown her what true love was. She’d felt it in his touch, she’d seen it in the bruises he’d earned in his active refusal to leave her behind, she’d heard him speak it and she was determined to show him in return that she understood.

When his fingers slipped between her own she felt the air around them calm. It would be dark soon and it deepened the uncanny feel to the woods around them that continued to creep ever closer and more intense despite the pair of them still being on the beaten path. It became marginally less frightening when he helped her out of the wagon and smiled.

“I hope you know how to set up a tent,” he teased, “because I’ve decided I’m too tired to help.”

Anna shook her head in return, knowing that he was only teasing. It was a comfort to hear his voice after travelling so long in silence. She hoped that the unknown ahead of them didn’t encourage an increase in their taciturnity.

“If you’re too tired to help me set it up then you don’t get to sleep in it.”

He put his hands up, defeated, and pressed her knuckles to his lips.

“I’m suddenly feeling very energized.”

***

Anna smoothed the hair from Kristoff’s forehead. He was asleep, and despite his assurances that they were safe and that she would need her rest she couldn’t seem to do the same. There was a voice in the back of her head that was wailing out with inexplicable dread. She was afraid, of what she wasn’t certain, but there was plenty to be concerned with. There was an invasion behind them that threatened their home, her kingdom, the land she held in her blood. Before them were the lands of her darkest childhood tales.

“Alves” he had said, and she’d immediately recalled all the tales her nursemaid had whispered against her parents wishes.

Alves stole away little children in the night and replaced them with their own, changelings, dark children who cared little for the wellbeing of others. Alves trapped men in spell circles and poked them with tiny knives, making them dance until they died. Alves were mischievous, violent, and cruel. They loathed humans, and they loved to trick them into causing their own suffering.

The stories she knew so well could be rationally explained as tales to keep children in line. Fantastical myths that were terrifying enough to heed were wise tools to employ when one wished to keep children in line and out of danger that was much earthlier than the ethereal creatures. The tales kept children from going deep into the wood where they could get lost or injured, it all made logical sense.

Logic, however, meant little when she had a sister who controlled ice and a lover who was raised by trolls. The rejections of the supernatural by her many childhood tutors were quickly replaced by Kristoff’s judgement. He knew the mountains far better than they did, far better than any man she’d ever met. His fear meant that she had every right to be scared.

His fitful sleep gave her no comfort. For the second night in a row he was tossing and turning, calming only slightly under her touch and calming words. He did not wake regardless of how much he fought against sleep and she found herself unable to shake the fear from him either. It only added to her dread.

His lips parted for a moment from their grim pressed line and she swore she heard him say something. Her ears strained to capture the sound, but she couldn’t understand it. It was then that she heard something else, a rustling outside the tent that made her hair stand on end.

At first she tried to tell herself that it was Sven, but there was no way that the massive reindeer was capable of making such a small sound. He was bedded down beneath a tree nearby anyhow, so it didn’t seem logical that he would be the source of a sound so close and in the opposite direction of where he lay.

A sort of nervous energy pooled in her gut and she couldn’t do what her brain was pleading with her to do.

Stay put Anna.

Just months before she might have done just that, but she couldn’t afford to be afraid of what went bump in the night anymore. She couldn’t afford to fear anything when her country was on the brink of collapse. Still she was quietly terrified.

She took a deep breath and shifted away from Kristoff, feeling the sense of unease grow deeper as she pulled away from his side. The sound was closer now, but only marginally louder, it would have been impossible to hear if it weren’t for the eerie silence of all else. Even the rhythmic sound of Kristoff’s breathing quieted to a barely audible level as her focus shifted to the noise outside the confines of their shelter. It sounded a bit like the rustling of leaves and grass, almost like footsteps, but too soft.

She was reminded of a dancer she had once seen as a child. A travelling troupe had come to the castle just for one night, for some celebration when she had been no older than five, a momentary relaxation of her father’s policy of closed gates and empty rooms. The woman had been rail thin, and when she danced, she did it all on her toes, creating the sort of soft, almost footfall-like sounds that had made her recall the dance in the moment. Anna had tried to emulate the technique for weeks to the distain of her dance instructor at the time. Princesses did not dance ballet, they danced ballroom.

She wondered what creature in the wood was not given the same prohibition.

Close to the mouth of the tent was where Anna had chosen to store her bow, and with her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she reached out for the well-worn wood of its grip. She knew that she would feel better as soon as it was in her hands, and that once she ducked out of the tent and nocked her arrow she would feel something akin to security.

She held tight to the bow and pulled an arrow from her quiver before reaching for the ties securing the tent’s flap. It was difficult to untie and release them singlehanded, but she could not bring herself to set down her bow even for a moment.

It was more comforting than it was logical. Any threat would have to be at a relatively far off distance for it to be useful, and while Kristoff had given her a knife, it was in her pack in the wagon. She wasn’t nearly so secure in her use of a blade as she was with a bow, something she owed to her many late night and early morning practice sessions with the latter over the former. Whenever she held her bow aloft, ready to fire, it felt as if she still had Kristoff’s hands guiding hers, that it was both of their strength keeping them safe. With a blade, albeit far more useful to defend herself up close, it was only polished metal in her own trembling palm.

When she edged out of the tent, the light of the moon caused her eyes to have a split moment of readjustment. The cold air hit her face, and she saw nothing before her but the same open space edged by woods that she and Kristoff had agreed would make a fine location to camp for the night.

Still though she nocked her arrow, pulled back and held her weapon aloft as she stepped, more-or-less gracefully out of the tent and into the surrounding space. Her bare feet met frost glazing the foliage and detritus below. The cold stung her warm toes and a chill shot up her spine. They hadn’t expected the temperature to drop so quickly, and she had been holding out hope that they would be able to get to their fated autumnal equinox meeting with beings unknown before the first frost. She should have known better than to rely on her luck.

“Anna?”

She jumped, but relaxed and lowered her bow. The soft surprised exhalation she made was visible in the chill night air as she turned to face Kristoff.

He was staring at her with concern from the entrance of the tent. There was no bleariness of sleep in his expression as she had become used to when he was awoken. He was on high alert as well and she, despite the emptiness of the space around them, was not yet fully comforted.

“Is everything alright?”

Anna flushed and took a step back towards the tent. She knew that for all intents and purposes had been spooked by nothing. While she was certain he wouldn’t shame her for her concern and vigilance, she didn’t want to tell him just how afraid she had been in the moment she opened the tent’s flap. The sense of dread that had been overwhelming moments before was fleeting quickly, as was her body heat, her shift doing little to keep the cold air from sapping warmth from her flesh.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. Sorry I woke you,” she said as she returned to the tent and to its relative heat.

Kristoff gave a questioning glance between the bow in her hand and the look upon her face but was kind enough not to ask her why she had felt the need to stand nearly naked in the cold with her bow drawn. He was wise enough to know that it was something she did not want to discuss, and so instead he reached out to her, uncurling her fingers from the weapon and intertwining them with his own instead.

Quickly the bow was rested back where she’d first placed it and the lacing keeping the tent’s flap closed was retied. The air within the tent quickly rewarmed to its original comfortable temperature.

Anna let Kristoff guide her back onto the large fur that made up their shared sleeping roll. It was an insulation from the ground that Anna knew was going to be even more useful than it already was in the nights to come. It would only grow colder from here, but as Kristoff wrapped her in both blankets and his arms she knew that she would not suffer the cold for very long despite the early frost.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Anna was once again uncertain if the affirmation was meant to calm her or him, but she nodded regardless and nestled her face into his neck. The sensation of unease buzzed in the fringes of her consciousness, and in Kristoff’s embrace she found enough peace from the feeling to fall asleep.

***

Kristoff sighed in relief when he heard Anna’s breath even out and felt the tension leave her body. She was asleep, and he had the feeling that it wouldn’t be particularly light. She was exhausted, as was he, and for good reason.

Yet, he knew that he would find no such rest, a sense of anxiety had him imbued with a sort of frantic energy that didn’t lend itself well to falling asleep. He knew that he had awoken from a nightmare to find Anna outside their tent, but for all the feeling of nervousness and fear he felt, he couldn’t remember for the life of him what he’d seen in the dark dream.

He smoothed his hand over Anna’s hair and pressed a kiss to her temple before beginning the slow and careful process of extricating his body from hers without causing her to wake. It was simple enough due to how deep the Princess slept and in a few moments of shifting, tugging on boots, untying and retying, Kristoff found himself half naked in the cold air of the clearing outside of their tent.

The frosted grass crunched softly under his booted feet. He found that this didn’t disturb Sven in the slightest, the sleeping reindeer’s ability to remain unconscious was only rivaled by Anna’s. He padded a few feet further than where he’d watched Anna walk and surveyed his surroundings.

The pale moonlight lit the space well enough for him to make note of some of the smaller details of the space. Though the shadows were deep, he could make out the first rows of scrub brush around them, the silhouettes of the rows of trees beyond them and the tallest blades of grass that grew sparsely on the forested terrain. The dark sky was unclouded and full of stars in a manner that may have been peaceful if the light it cast on the earth below didn’t make everything appear quite so uncanny and foreboding.

Undeterred he continued through the blue-white landscape before him.

The frost had been disturbed just ahead of where he stood. When he moved closer, he saw that the tracks were much like those Anna had made, but that they stretched from one side of the clearing to the other, perpendicular to the line he and Anna had walked with the steps never meeting or turning as theirs had.

He followed the prints to the edge of the wood, but despite their clear human shape, he saw no one. It did little for his unease.

He peered into the dark wood before him and had the sensation that something was staring back at him, although he could not meet its gaze. While he’d never been the sort of man to consider himself wise, he knew enough from his raising and a sense of self preservation to not seek out whatever was looking at him. He and Anna were vulnerable in their tent and that they were both still breathing was enough for him to know that whatever it was in the dark, it had no interest in killing them. At least not yet.

A cool breeze struck him as he turned away from the wood and back towards the tent. Out of the corner of his eye he thought that he saw a flash of white-blonde hair, but he did not turn to see if he could spot its owner. He might have thought for a moment that Elsa had come for them, to check in on her sister, to somehow dissuade them from their fool errand deeper into the hinterlands, but the foreboding that was all but tangible in the air was enough to make the thought laughable. He did not turn. Sometimes it was better to not see, to not know.

Sometimes it’s ignorance that keeps you alive.

When he returned to the tent, he tied the fastenings tight, as if the closely tied lacings could keep out anything beyond the cool night air. He was soothed somewhat by the sound of Anna’s easy inhalations and exhalations and by the knowledge that Sven, at least, was safe from whatever was prowling in the wood.

He knew without a doubt that they were being watched because they did not belong. The reindeer would not be considered an affront to the natural order of the wood, but he and Anna, despite their time living in the mountains, all but reeked of foreignness to whatever was viewing them from out of his line of sight. He could not explain how he knew this, and yet he did.

He removed his boots and shifted himself onto his side. Anna was warm and soft and safe. He kissed her temple again, grateful that her sleep was deep and that she wasn’t disturbed by his exit and subsequent reentrance or by the cool touch of night that lingered on his skin.

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated, and it tasted sharp and acrid on his tongue.

He’d promised to never lie to her.

#Kristanna #Siege of Arendelle #Frozen #I actually proofread this chapter #I know you're all surprised #I am too #Hopefully more to come soon #Thanks for sticking with me guys

25 notes · View notes

mimeparadox · 6 years ago

Photo

Sark, Subordinate Baddies, and Flexible Loyalties

(With apologies to @derevkosark.)

If there’s one line that can be considered to be the iconic Sark line, the one that exemplifies who he is, it’s “my loyalties are flexible.” It’s a good line, and David Anders delivers it well.

It’s also the line that ruined the character.

I don’t think it’s a terribly daring to suggest that Sark worked most consistently during Alias’ first two seasons (and even more specifically during the first), and that season three and four’s attempts to do something more substantial with him were largely unsuccessful. Bringing him into the Covenant made so little sense as a character move the series had to lampshade it and pretend they’d answered the question of why he’d done it. Introducing his father became a dramatic dead end, and one that brought about the wrong kind of thematic resonance—another character with parent issues? His relationship with Lauren was better, but had no center or consistency, its nature shifting depending on the episode. Even his season four story—which was entirely optional, given that he was no longer a series regular and didn’t need to appear—felt entirely unearned, and seemed to miss the point of his character entirely. Somehow, the more focus the character got, the less he seemed to work, and it wasn’t until season five’s “Bob” that he was at a place where he was actually fun again.

(It’s worth noting that Sark’s declaration of flexibility comes in “The Telling”—the last episode of season two. This does not at all feel like coincidence.)

The ironic thing is that Sark wasn’t a character that needed much focus. Characters of his ilk rarely do. Roan, from Nikita, was used perfectly effectively while also being a man of very few words; even though he’s a consistent presence throughout the first two seasons, we never learn much about him, and that’s fine. The same goes, to a lesser extent, for Martine Rousseau, who is absolutely fantastic throughout the first half of Person of Interest’s fourth season (and less fantastic upon her return later in the season, although she’s hardly alone in that), and Anthony, Elias’ leiutenant. This isn’t to say that any of these characters would have necessarily been harmed by additional development, but its absence didn’t hurt them. So why did additional focus, in fact, appear to harm Sark?

Part of it is simple villain decay. Sark’s first few appearances were all about emphasizing just how badass he was, as he almost single-handedly destroyed FTL and K-Directorate. We didn’t know a lot about him, but we knew he’d succeeded where McKennas Cole had failed—and McKennas Cole had almost killed everyone. And that air of danger remained through most of season one. By the time season two ended, though, Sark had ceased to feel like a threat. His impressive feats had slowed to a trickle, and he’d been defeated and/or captured too many times, to the point where him getting trussed up Hannibal Lecter style in his season four appearance feels like an extreme overreaction. But that’s secondary to the real reason why the character no longer works, and that’s the fact that his flexible loyalties completely undermine him as a character.

What do we know about Sark, that first season? We know that a) he’s quite young, and b) his position within the Man’s organization allows him to serve as the Man’s proxy, suggesting that he is not only skilled but also reliable. This suggests some sort of relationship with Irina, one that goes beyond boss/subordinate. The popular fan theory is that she played a pseudo-maternal role, making him a sibling of Sydney’s, emotionally if not biologically.

This element—the deeply important pre-existing relationship we don’t know much about, is a key reason why flunkies can get away with not having much focus. How do Roan and Percy know each other? How do Irina and Sark? Martine and Greer? We have no idea, but what we see of their relationship suggests a lot of interesting things, even if we never actually get them.

So Irina and Sark have a relationship. Why, then, are Sark’s loyalties quote-unquote flexible? Why would Irina trust him at all if that is the case? And it’s not as if the statement is inaccurate. Even if one believes that Sark is acting according to Irina’s instructions in “The Telling” when he sells her out, that doesn’t explain why he chooses to remain with the Covenant, or why he eventually chooses to go freelance. Imagine separating Roan from Percy / Division without explanation and trying to tell stories with him. What exactly would those stories involve?

Granted, Sark is made to join the Covenant partly because Irina is out of pocket for all of the third season, but that’s a less-than-satisfying explanation. For one, the writers didn’t know that would be the case when they had him suggest that he’ll work for whomever is most convenient. Second, Irina’s absence didn’t mean they had to divorce Sark’s character from hers; it would have been the easiest thing in the world to just use him as her proxy, the way Katya was later used. Or, heck, suggest he was infiltrating the group on her behalf. Or suggest that he actually felt betrayed by Irina, so he’s now adrift. “Sark is loyal to Irina” gives you a starting point; even if circumstances mean you can’t tell the story you’d like, it at least gives you a direction to follow. Once you remove Sark’s loyalties, you’re left with nothing, and you’re forced to come up with stuff about him being the heir to a half-a-billion-dollar fortune just to give him something to do.

There’s also the problem that for someone whose loyalties are flexible, they oftentimes weren’t flexible enough. I’ve already mentioned his inexplicable attachment to the Covenant, but there’s also his reluctant partnership with Irina and Sloane at the tail-end of the series, which degrades to the point where he admits he has no idea what he’s doing there, but still not enough for him to just sell them out. A truly wild card would have helped the good guys as much as he helps the bad guys, and yet the only episode where a willingness to do so is in evidence is “Bob.” Flexible loyalties (or seemingly flexible loyalties) can be very fun—Nikita uses them to fantastic effect, both in the character of Cyrus, and with most of the show’s core cast—but on Sark they’re largely a bore, because there’s rarely an actual question of where he’ll land.

In the end, is about consistency. You can have a character with variable loyalties, but there has to be something underpinning that variability. Given that characters like Sark’s core is their relationships and loyalty, they can’t just be undermined nilly-willy. Unfortunately, this is precisely what Alias did.

#Alias #Alias (TV Series)#Julian Sark #Irina Derevko #My Stuff #My Meta

42 notes · View notes

triptripletrolls · 5 years ago

Text

The Two Schools of Thought for Fiction and my thoughts, the realization, and the journey that I will forever be on

“Fiction =/= Real Life” vs “Fiction Impacts the Real World”

Those are the two arguments that I kept seeing popping up every once in a while. I was on the side of the “Fiction =/= Real Life” and I didn’t understand how any fictional media can be bad in real life. After all, we all have heard of parents blaming games for turning their kids bad, movies creating evil people, books causing women to run from their husband, blah blah blah blah blah. I was kind of exaggerating there but I’m sure people have seen those kinds of arguments before. The blame on fiction, to me, was silly. The stories I heard with these arguments usually have an underlying human problem that needed to be solved, but instead of realizing the actual problem of that person's trouble they use fiction as a scapegoat. Shifting blame is, after all, easier than owning up to one's fault.

Another reason why I heavily supported the "Fiction =/= Real Life" side and did not understand the other side of the fiction argument was because of the victims of abuse and how some of them would use fictions to cope with their past. Let me be brief about this point for a moment and come back to this later. I was sympathetic to the victim and tried to be empathetic to their past pain and to the pain that they may feel at present. Who am I to say that they cannot do this or that when their life was already once controlled by another person, in bad hands. They (the victims) have a fucked up life, so let them be and let them cope with their trauma however they can. That was what I thought.

For me personally, fiction was a means of escape from my own head where I thought I was rotted alive and crippled from depression. Yes, that was a pretty dramatic description of what my past mental state was, but that was the feeling I remember and I have not forgotten that feeling so that I may tap into it and empathize with others now that I have grown. The dark thought still lingers to this day, but I think life is nice and I like to think that I have moved past the thought of wanting to kill myself. That sentiment is something I want everyone to have and sometimes I wanna help that in others, as draining as it is.

Fiction was not the only help I had with depression, of course, but it did play a role. Fiction kept my brain thinking of worlds fantastical than my own. Imagination was fun; I could be anyone and do anything I like. I've enjoyed fiction by myself for a long time, but when I realized that I can have fun with others who also like make-believe. It was like a whole new world for me. So my thought at that point was “How could fiction that did so good to me be bad and have real-world consequences outside of my head?”

My view shifted recently when I was able to connect the argument for “Fiction Impacts the Real World” to me personally, outside of my head in a real tangible example. I am a Korean born in Canada. Growing up Asian in a North American society, representation of my race was lacklustre or very stereotypical. Of course, I had the Korean media to turn to, but I identify myself as a Canadian more than a Korean and I grew-up all before the Korean Wave became a phenomenon in North America. When the wave did hit my city, it hit hard, but by then I was already in High School and I thought that all of this hype was overrated and just a fab. Just because I am a Korean, it didn't mean that I would suddenly embrace the Korean wave into my life. But now that I think about it, representations and fiction were two key thoughts that I need to start understanding the “Fiction Impacts the Real World”.

There was a podcast that I was listening to sometime this Spring, and the topic was about Asian representation in the mainstream media in America. My memories have yet again failed to remember what the exact podcast I was listening to but the people talking were all Asian Americans. Regular people just like me. They were talking casually, about the recent movies, like Crazy Rich Asians, and TV shows, like Fresh Off The Boat. The group of people that I was listening to expressed their amazement in these movies and shows in present times when they were growing up there really wasn't any movies and shows that had this many Asians. This is an expression I can relate to. At some point in the podcast, someone mentioned that in order for Asians to continue to get good representation in media, we need good stories that we can fill. Stories, as in fiction, and that was when it clicked.

There is still a lot of things in this world that I have yet to experience and I have a lot to learn even though I'm in my late 20s. I still think that being an adult is hard, a thought that I think many adults can relate to. Accepting new things is a process and while I still lean towards the “Fiction =/= Real Life,” I now know better. I know that fiction is important not only in the mind but also in the real world. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to come to this conclusion but hey, I'm glad I'm at this place now. Go me :p

Now here is the topic that I said I'll come back to. I know that this particular subject is really controversial in this community but I cannot ignore the consequences that this topic had on the community that I so love and to the friendships I once had.

Let me be very clear. There is no argument that CP is very bad. The sexual act against children no matter their age by an adult is despicable. CP in its nature is the exploitation of vulnerable children whose innocence of life and wonders are ripped away from selfish adults who are just thinking with their dicks, literal and metaphorical dicks. Adults are supposed to be protecting children. Adults are supposed to nurture and be a role model, but these vile sex offenders used their adult status for their own greed. CP is bad and this what I truly believe for a long time, even before any drama that has happened in this community.

What I did not know, or even thought of until reading ladytrollfishes' addition to glowtroll's post, is that there are adults who would actively expose pedophilic fiction to the children in order to do harm. This was huge news for me. I was enraged when I first read that and that could actually happen, How dare they taint the fiction I love and use it to manipulate the impressionable minds. I was aware of the pedophilic ships when I was consuming a large amount of anime as a child but those ships weren't my thing and I never thought anything of it. In all honesty, there were actually a couple of ships in animation between a child and adult that I thought was cute when I saw pretty fanart of it. However, after the epiphany of adults exposing children to problematic ships with the goal of real life CP, I am distraught by my own previous thought and grossed out by those adults.

When I said that I sympathize with victims of abuse, I still believe that I should give the victims my compassion. I understand the need to express the inexplicable pain that the victim may be feeling. To validate their own self and convince themselves that all is okay. However, like what ladytrollfishes said, there is an audience. The kind of adults I hate may use a victim's work of fiction feeding into the cycle of abuse. To sum up this particular subject of victims creating fiction as a coping mechanism, please do it privately and if you must share, do so with those you truly trust.

These are some of the thoughts that were plaguing my brain for a while. I usually don’t like sharing my personal baggage and thoughts like this, but this community has gone through a lot of drama and thoughts and opinions has been let loose. I didn’t really know where my head was, and with my own stuff going on around the same time, I think writing this out on paper and then having another thought during the typing, really has sorted out my thoughts. There are still a ton of other stuff that I want to let my feelings out, but right now, this is good for now.

#long text #cora #cora writes #aaaaaahhhhhhh #CP mentioned #just my own thoughts and stuffs #I just... aurrrg #I'm so tired #thinking is hard #writing is hard #why did i write so much for this #i hope this all makes sense #i don't have beta reader and ah it's been forever since i write something #never this much and of my personal thoughts though.... welll there was that one post not too long ago #actually writing and sorting out my thoughts letting it all out is nice #if anyone's actually reading this #I am an INFP Aries born in the year of the Rooster and because we are a part of the Homestuck my classpect is the Mage of Breath.#lmao this this actually had a very different approuch and while I untimately changed it i kinda liked that little bit. I'll add that #to my profile when i can.#mentioning of CP #should i trigger warn this? idk #past tense are hard #i perfer present tense #but i have no idea how to go about with the tenses here. like here i talk about my previous thoughts #and now i have a more broader thinking for a particular subject #the subject being this long post i wrote

3 notes · View notes

hcpefulmarshmallow · 6 years ago

Text

V3 Spoilers under cut. Just some stuff that has been on my mind since I played the game.

Okay, so I haven’t played it as much as the first two, and I really do adore Shuichi as a character. Let me get those two things out first because I don’t want any angry people in my inbox. This isn’t to complain about Shuichi, or that V3 took things in a different direction than the first two games. The third installment in any franchise has a tough job, balancing fan expectations and keeping the spirit of the story alive enough to please people who have been there since the beginning; while also being new and exciting enough as to not feel stale, and maybe even draw in a whole new crowd. I get that. Changing up a series is not, by default, a bad thing, and I don’t want to imply that DR should have stuck with the same old formula. I’m just saying that there was one glaring misuse of the characters that lowkey sucked. And for the purposes of not writing a whole novel, I’ll probably gloss over some big, important stuff in the interests of streamlining. Please don’t be mad. This is just the impression that the game gave me.

(And yeah, I’m talking like UDG didn’t exist. I still haven’t finished that game to be honest. It’s enjoyable in it’s own merits, and I’m loving the familiar faces and all, but at times it just doesn’t feel like Danganronpa. Yeah, I said it. Maybe that’s my own problem, though - the third-person adventure/horror aspect isn’t my style usually, unless the game is something else. But I digress.)

So, onto our main point, I’m gonna come out and say it: Shuichi was a poor choice for a protagonist.

Let’s rewind for a minute to the first two games, shall we? Each cast was likable in their own ways, the different environments gave each story it’s own atmosphere while still retaining that unmistakable Danganronpa feeling. There were things we could rely on as we transitioned from one game to the other, and things we could be surprised by. One thing about DR is that it has the same trio over and over, right up until this game, where the roles are inexplicably changed. (And again, changing things up: not automatically invalid. But this was a large part of the soul of Danganronpa: the ability to feel like your ordinary self has become a part of this world of Ultimates, and the battle between hope and despair. It’s designed to make you a part of the game so you really feel the highs and lows and every little consequence; and nowhere is it as blatant as in this game, see the final trial. That’s why this change was so bizarre.)

In the first game, it was Makoto, Kyoko and Byakuya. In the second, it was Hajime, Chiaki and Nagito. Respectively, their roles were such:

Your protagonist and POV character. They were relatable in many ways: feeling out of place in the presence of all this talent to which they felt they couldn’t compare, somewhat naive, always wanting to believe the best of others, never particularly keen to put anyone to death. They weren’t unintelligent by any means, but their self-doubt and desire to keep the group as a group would hold them back from difficult deductions. This would show in different degrees and in different ways in the characters, but it was always very much there. Much like the player: we didn’t want to put our faves to death, but we didn’t have a choice. For the most part, it was the protagonist who kept that human element to an otherwise fantastical environment, full of people who were only borderline believable. They kept the story grounded, presenting it through their respective viewpoints. The game doesn’t have to justify why it has this almost fictional quality to it’s story and characters, because Makoto and Hajime have both observed that it’s almost not real. But then they get close to the other characters and form attachments, and truly become a part of events themselves, and it all feels very real. It’s through this character that our ordinary selves can truly experience a world like the one in Danganronpa.

Next, you have the two sidekicks, performing polarizing roles. All very intelligent, often figuring out the case before our protagonist. You have Kyoko and Chiaki: dropping hints, assisting us along the way, serving as a moral compass of sorts. When we feel lost or confused in the class trial, it’s this character who usually helps us find our way to the truth. And you have Byakuya and Nagito, who exist to misdirect us. Forcing us to strive to be better; rather than relying on the work others do. (And yeah, I know all these characters are deeper than that -- I’m just talking about their basic function in relation to the protagonist). This allows the POV character, and by extension us, to navigate the class trials and the moral dilemma they present, not by providing answers, but by providing growth. By the end, out protagonists have gone from feeling overwhelmed and uncertain, to being able to stand up against the mastermind, even if we’ve lost our sidekicks by that point.

Now, let’s look at V3′s golden trio. I’ve seen some debate around this but, in terms of this particular dynamic, we’ve got: Kaede, Shuichi and Kokichi. Or at least, that’s who we should have.

Kokichi is the obvious choice for an antagonistic character who forces us to up our anti a little bit. He’s constantly throwing us for a loop, constantly making things harder, but never sabotaging us to the point where the trial becomes literally impossible. Love him or hate him, he is a very good, complex character with exceptional narrative utility. I don’t think I need to go into depth with this one, because I don’t think anyone would disagree that this is his role. So moving on.

As for Shuichi, he does very much fit the description I gave above of the general layout of a Danganronpa protag: that he’s somewhat self-doubting, overwhelmed at the scope of the people he’s been put amongst, gets along with the others for the most part, doesn’t want to doubt his friends, and goes through extraordinary character growth. However, there are a few issues he has that the others do not. For starters: most of his relevant character growth in terms of what Hajime and Makoto went through happens in the first chapter. He learns from Kaede’s death to trust his own deductions and believe in his talent. He still has a lot of self-doubt, and is still very relatable, but from there, most of his story revolves around trusting others and working as a team, rather than his internal conflicts. That seems more in line with Kyoko’s arc of opening up to Makoto and letting the others in on what she learns rather than flying solo all the time; and of Chiaki’s arc of finally being able to tell Hajime the truth of who she is, and wanting to bring everyone together. Again, I’m kind of strawmanning the character here; but even if I’m dead wrong about his motivations (it sucks not being able to screenshot, you forget so much), there’s one more major flaw. His talent.

Through the class trials, our POV character goes in with about as much certainty as we have. And we, alongside them, uncover the truth of the case. We’re essentially experiencing the class trial through their eyes, experiencing being the key word here. Shuichi, however, is the smartest and most capable detective in the room, what with being the Ultimate Detective and all. The feeling I got from him wasn’t that I was solving the mystery through him, but rather that he would have all the answers at least a split-second before me, then the game just kind of waits for me to catch up. There was a lot more “I knew it!” and “As I thought!” kind of going on there, rather than “Aha! The answer can only be __!”

Furthermore, Shuichi isn’t terribly proactive. Which is fine, to an extent. The previous POV characters would kind of get thrust into situations too; but once they were there, they were an active part of events. Hajime didn’t want to go feed Nagito, but in doing so, became an active part of what was going on with his story, and learned early on about his manipulation of Mahiru. Makoto didn’t go out investigating Mukuro on his own, but once Kyoko told him about her, he used that information to his advantage, particularly in the Trials. And there were events for which they were active catalysts, too. Not too boring, but not pulling a lot of major strings, either: giving the player a front row seat to the action, letting something amazing play out for their ordinary selves to enjoy, but also making them feel like their actions matter. For Shuichi, he’s dragged into everything he’s involved in, and even then, he’s either just kind of there, present and accounted for while stuff happens; or he’s off on his own, even if someone else is physically present. For instance, when he and Kaito are investigating, Kaito might be there, but Shuichi is doing all the leg work, really. Not saying Kaito is useless, just...saying. And this is totally fine, and consistent with his character. He’s not very social until he gets to know someone well, and he’s definitely more intellectual and emotional than he is a physical being. But again, your protagonist needs to toe that line between being passive enough that stuff can still happen around them, and active enough that the player can engage with that stuff. And again: Shuichi more fits the mold of someone like Chiaki, who is often off on her own, and only intervenes in situations when she absolutely must; or Kyoko, who is also off on her own a lot, and isn’t sociable at all. In terms of free time events and stuff, I have no trouble believing Makoto or Hajime would make an effort to, out-of-the-blue, find and learn more about a fellow classmate; but Shuichi? Not so much. Again: he’s just not a person who is comfortable with other people. Which is all fine and relatable and good for him as a character. But as a POV? Sure he gets close with his little workout gang, but only because Kaito drags him along. Even Kaede spends most of the first chapter just pulling him around everywhere. After a while, all this adds up and makes you feel detached from events: less like you’re playing a game, and more like you’re watching a movie.

So we’ve established that, as far as the game goes, Shuichi is a good character but makes a better sidekick archetype than a POV protagonist. So what’s the difference between him and Kaede that makes her a great, Danganronpa-esque protag?

Well...the opposite of everything I’ve said.

For starters, her talent. Thus far, our protagonists’ talents have been generally the least impressive of the group. (Okay, yeah, Hajime was eventually the Ultimate Everything, but we only find that out at the end. He spent all game being the Ultimate Nothing, and therefore had all his relevant character growth before that. By this point, we already experienced the events of the game through him, and have already grown accustomed to the very human, very fallible, Hajime. Tell me he’s Izuru, I’m just as easily gonna see the guy who passed out on the beach but over time became a badass.) Ultimate Pianist is kind of a niche talent, but I don’t think that makes it isolating. For one, like her predecessors, her talent is utterly useless in a trial setting. Unless there were some specific circumstances, knowing how to play piano will not help her find a killer. (Technically Makoto’s luck could have been useful, but I think it’s made pretty clear he and his class passed those trials through hard work, not luck). The most important thing for a protagonist has to be their ability to be relatable by being brave and true and all that Good Stuff, not to be born exceptional. How are you going to pander to a market who is trying to escape their dull lives if all they have to escape to are people who are fundamentally better than them in ways they could never relate to? Anyway can be brave, not anyone can be Sherlock.

Because Kaede’s character was built mostly around her traits and not her talent, she’s still easily relatable. She, like us, wants the best for her fellow characters. She’s moralistic, kind, and defiant of the circumstance she’s been thrust into, all things we can aspire to. She’s likeable, but not infallible or unbelievable. She can be bossy at times, her own personal sense of justice perhaps her biggest downfall. This idea of “good/hope MUST triumph over evil/despair” which has been pushed by the game itself, is used as it’s newest protagonist’s flaw, and is a viewpoint that will ultimately be subverted in the final trial.

Kaede is, overall, more sociable and active. I buy that she spends her free time getting to know other people. She doesn’t always think with her head, and she is the type to stumble into situations by accident, meaning she’s a much more viable candidate to be just lucky enough to wind up in wacky hijinks, and just active enough to really become a part of them. Also, I’m gonna just mention the elephant in the room real quick: it sucks that the only female protagonist out of the main games had to be killed off. I liked the idea of a female protag.

Okay, I know I said it was a bummer that Shuichi so quickly moved past doubting himself and his own talent much too quickly, especially when the protags we’re used to take most of the game to do that sort of thing. Kaede doesn’t really have much self-doubt, to be honest. She doesn’t struggle with the morality of the situation she’s in: instead, her solution is simplistic and naive: “We just won’t kill. Easy.” This is a polar opposite of our protagonists, but not invalid. Remember: not all changes are bad, and this is the third installment. We expect some shakeups to the formula.

This actually could’ve been used really well, if Kaede was given more time. After her idea of “we just won’t play!!1!” is crushed and she’s forced to endure an entire class trial and vote for someone to be executed, this would’ve shattered (or at least, damaged) her pure and perfect world view. She would be forced to look inward, and question her frankly childish sense of right and wrong, which ties in so much better with the eventual themes of the final trial. Rather than seeing only good and evil, she would be forced to confront the moral grey that exists within her, and within all situations. And she would have to do so without losing what makes her fundamentally Kaede - her optimism, her strength, and her trust in others. I’ve seen this done well rarely, but most notably in characters like Penelope Garcia. I truly feel like Danganronpa could’ve pulled this off.

“But Jenny! There’s a problem!! You said that it was after the first trial that Shuichi had the development to grow into a great Chiaki/Kyoko archetype, but that only happens through the death of Kaede!!! If she survived, he would still be hiding in her shadow!!”

I’ve thought of that too. So say, instead, Kaede just comes really close to being killed in the trial. Say, the vote is split 50-50 between her and the real killer. Shuichi is the only one with the key information to sway the final voter/s, but he knows in doing so, he will condemn someone to death. He can do so and save Kaede, or close his eyes and leave it up to chance. In the end, he trusts his talent and uses what he knows to shed light on the truth. He has to come to terms with condemning someone, but he knows that he also saved an innocent person. Once again tying in so well with the final theme of how good and evil and right and wrong aren’t always distinguishable; and giving Shuichi a great character development moment that’s more than just “my girlfriend is dead so now I can grow, I’m so glad the franchise has never played this angle before or it would feel tired and kind of sexist :(”; and giving Kaede a chance to view first-hand that you can be a good person, and walk a grey line. I thought of that in two seconds. Just saying.

But anyway, that’s just one long-ass thought from someone who has played this game one and a half times. I want to play it again, and maybe I’ll change my own mind, who knows. But while I’m still of this mindset, I wanted it out there.

#meta;#v3 spoilers #( that took entirely too long to write and I can't be bothered proofreading again so..have it )

8 notes · View notes