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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

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Genshin Boys would be Horrible as Disney Princes

Headcanon and Reader Perspective, Drabble

Sojourner Special (Followers Event)

Despite being the gentleman and sweethearts that they are, in the wrong hands, of badly aligned context and universal rules these boys can barely function as princes given their own ideals.

Diluc in Cinderella

Shortest one, oops.

Our Diluc would honestly be too busy for balls if we're doing this canonically, night time of all times. He's not your prince tonight, he's off somewhere doing Knight stuff...

If by chance you did catch him in the ball and he did indulge you with your dance until you escapaded at midnight, he's not gonna question it.

And since he didn't even REMEMBER your face, the next day just goes on as usual. No decree for searching the whole land for your foot or anything, it's just a normal day after a party.

"They left without a word, no name or promise, who am I to say no when they clearly don't want to stay?"

He's a gentleman. Too gentlemanly...

Childe in Sleeping Beauty

In this scenario, Childe embraces his knight-ness more than the princely aspect. I mean sure, he danced with you in the forest all so lovingly, sang along to your pretty lil voice. But when the prophecy came, his focus changed—

To the thrill of fighting a big ass green fire breathing dragon! Big woah, Childe had soooo much fun fighting it that he didn't even cheese it.

He lived for every hour of the fight and made it as slow as possible. Taunting, playing with his PREY- mid-fight the dragon would realize just how strong and horrifying Prince Childe is, but the entertainment had started, and the dance won't end until Childe wills it.

When he DID finally slay the damned thing, he'll come up to your quarters and stare at your sleeping body, and then think "Hey, if them being put under this spell gave me the fight of the century? What if ANOTHER dragon comes? That would be amazing!" No waking up for you, or the whole city for that matter.

Albedo in Frog Princess

You... You don't even get the chance to be the frog princess in here... simply because he himself REFUSES to change back to normal. You have never met a man so intelligent, much more a frog.

"I know of which you are not, I won't be fooled by cardboard crowns and secondhand dresses," you choke as he berates every fiber of your being, "It matters not, I still have much to learn about the life of an amphibian."

He disappears after that and you've never heard from him ever again, although at the back of your mind you're pretty sure he's a live and well, that bastard is too smart to end up as roadkill.

And well, you're right, he's out there in the world of frogs doing frog things. Triumphant over frog science and the other talking creatures he may meet.

He'll also find a way to revert himself back to normal, either making his own cure or just enlisting the help of a princess to bargain.

He might come to you upon the logic of marriage counting you as princess, but don't get too hyped, you won't be treated as his wife. He'd be too busy putting his frog research into paper...

Zhongli in Beauty and the Beast

A beast he may be, he's still dignified and elegant, upholding his end of the bargain so long as the other does the same.

Your father may have trespassed and have taken some flowers in his domain but well, really it's such a petty crime that can easily be solvable. And even if there needs to be punishment incured...

When you stumble to the mansion in search of your father, ready to take his place from his jail cell, you find him and the beast (ohh half-dragon Zhongles) by an elegant table drinking cups of tea with light conversation. Huh?

"There is no need to fret, your father and I are just discussing the terms of our contract. He spoke of his woodworks that I wish to commission in exchange, such good potential should not be wasted."

You can also, well, pay off things within contract? But either way, it would be hella awakward, he won't impose on your life and most certainly not about the curse when you had so much to live for.

Kaeya in Rapunzel

Little bitch, thru and thru. If Eugene is such a criminal, he's taking it TENFOLD.

He's not even gonna be the slightest bit trustworthy for you, little Rapunzel, because he raises so many red flags your frying pan wouldn't even be enough to threaten him. He probably has a really thick skull, and your resolve won't be able to smack that pretty face.

Bargaining won't work, he'd sleight of hand his way out and get the crown knowing you'd hid it in the pot immediately, and then just backflip outta there.

If you manage to get him to get you out, he's not gonna be of help either. Kaeya would be amused with toying with you, leaving you in the dark as you get scared shitless/dance around with some tavern criminals. Otherwise, ehh...

One way or another, he's gonna find a way to get you off his case. Either forcing you to travel with companions that's headed to the city anyways or forcefully knocking you out and heaving you back to your tower.

"You have a mother that never ages lock you up in this tower? Nu uh, sweetie, I'm not dealing with the dark forces of witchery when I'm already well off with the crown."

He got the crown.

Venti in Snow White

I'm sorry what? Free apples? Eternal sleep in a beautiful bed? He's gonna be glad to just take your place. (Spoilers, he would)

He'd be most definitely entertained with your dwarves, playing his tunes. You life would be filled with his lyre as he plays around, not even caring about the other implications of yours or his status in this woodland forest.

You ran away from home? Cool, freedom, man. Wish he could the same without jeopardizing the kingdom and his family. He'd probably take the apple too just for you~

During your rest, he'll come up with the most eloquent song to play for your seven dwarves as he watches your fate sadly. How peaceful you looked, away from the world and from the grips of death.

The dwarves would force him to please try and break the spell, and he'll shrug and indulge- except it didn't break the spell, as he expected it to be. And they are clueless on who else you had encountered in your life to even spare a true love's kiss.

"How saddening, the princess lays. Maddening to those around as they'd say, if only my kiss was enough for the curse to sway." You died, ouch.

Xiao in Mulan

Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. His voicelines would come in sooooo handy here, oh my goodness.

If you miraculously bypassed his analytical gaze enough to hide your sexuality, you're going to die in his training program. He's not gonna go easy on you, not when the fate of the nation lies upon your capability to keep up. You're gonna go through far worse than what true Mulan went through, and you may or may not just die in the process.

If by chance you survived, this would warrant enough respect to not kill you (oh, you lived) but you better not show up again.

He's never gonna be delighted to see your traitorous face again, he can save China on his own, thank you very much. And you know he can. Try and approach him, and a sword would be at your neck once again.

"Foolish gremlin, you think you had the right to present yourself after the treason you willfully committed? We won't crumble at the loss of one person, your job here is done." How sad.

Cyno in Little Mermaid

First of all, wack, mermaids exist! Sadly, that's nothing new for him. He knows a lot with that intelligent mind of his, so it would be no surprise that the existence of such mythical creatures doesn't make him bat an eyelash. He's been living near water, he's not that stupid.

With that in mind, your presence in your first meeting is going to be bad. Very bad. Cyno knows about sirens and he's not at all gonna fall for it, and if by chance he had known you before the ship was wrecked, he's probably gonna be veryyy keen in capturing you instead.

So if by chance you're stupid enough to interact with him and DESIRE to be on land with him, you're gonna deal with a lot of problems.

You're not getting that kiss easily. No, it's a huge challenge. He'd be repulsed in your naivety and will most likely be more concerned on your voice than ever. He'd be so kind to try and give a shot in helping with the cure but it's not the cure you needed.

He'll drown himself in every literature in full concentration just to see if there's any text he can find about curses and muteness. His curiousity would get the best of him, and you'll barely see him after you managed to explain your predicament without the need for words. Octopus woman doesn't even need to show up to intervene.

"A kiss? Surely not, such ailment won't be cured by fairytale methods." And then he goes back to his library once again. And you will be seafoam the next sunrise. Or was it sunset?

"So now that we've established these grounds," Exiled turns to the other two in the area, "Maybe, these boys would be better off as princesses."

And so the trio concocts a new type of fairytale, collaborated to masterpieces soon after.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @struggljng @ellitx @kookieyachi @dandelion-dreams

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #cyno x reader #albedo x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #exile.flower #exile.circlet #disney genshin #ajajjajajaja #this was made on impulse #sojourner special

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viaryius · 3 years ago

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I couldn't resist 🤍Little Caranthir story 🤍

He is so sweet 🤍

Little Caranthir is bored. Eternal reading of books and learning does not make sense to the little elf. He is very tired, he needs a break. He needs to have fun. What happens when he gets the chance?

Story Link: HERE 🌿

In a room full of books, there was an echo of quiet snoring. An elf who has dressed in a green tunic, sat on his chair and slept. His blond hair slid into his face during sleep and gently rubbed against his cheekbones. He held a book in his hands, which he read until he fell asleep from exhaustion. His relaxed body dropped the book on the ground.

The book slid slowly on the ground from tired hands that could no longer hold it. The fall of the book on the ground made a small rumble. But not big enough to wake the sleeping elf. His eyelids were closed, and at times there was a hint of restlessness or disapproving growl, caused his dreams. The peace of a fallen book, was disturbed by a small child's hand.

The child looked curiously at the book. His ice-blue eyes focused on the title, which was engraved in silver. Herbal Arkanara. The boy rolled his eyes boredly. He knew this book very well. He read it so many times, that he could recite the whole book from beginning to end. The long days of boredom, he tried relieved by reading the various books, which he found. But most of the books have been repeated.

With his bored childish expression, he looked at the elf, who was sitting and sleeping quietly. There was only a quiet blow in the room. The little elf watched him lazily. His eyes returned to the book. He walked over to the table and quietly placed it in front of his teacher.

Little Caranthir was not afraid of him, but he had respect for him. Especially when his teacher was involuntarily awakened from sleep. The memory of waking his teacher was not the best for little Caranthir. Only at the slightest hint of that memory his shoulder hurt again. He did not want to run away again from the flying books. which his teacher throws at him. A mischievous smile appeared on Caranthir face and he chuckled. At least then, the old elf was funny. Red as pepper.

The little elf sighed resignedly and walked slowly but very quietly to the other end of the room. He sat down at a table with many different books. But he didn't read today, he wasn't in the mood for it. He knew them by heart, like all other books. His eyes ran around the room, looking for some kind of fun or distraction.

Caranthir sighed boredly again and put his hand on his chin. The platinum strand of hair, that wandered into his face quickly hid behind his ear. His ice blue eyes stopped at his teacher. He narrowed his eyes and studied him carefully. Hair, clothes and his face. Nothing. No change. Avallac'h was so boring in some cases. He sighed in frustration and hid his head with his hands in despair.

His eyes brightened wildly. He knew what to do. He had waited too long for this, and now when his teacher did not perceive reality, he could do it. Mischief gleamed in his eyes.

The old elf is sleeping. Caranthir grin his teeth mischievously. Now I have a chance to finally had some fun. He had a cheerful smile on his face. His steps quieter than a cat, he sneak very slowly to a table with various elixirs and bottles.

Caranthir attention was focused on one particular elixir. A small oblong bottle, containing a red-white powder was right in front of him. He grabbed it quickly and hid the bottle in the inside pocket of his pale blue tunic. He twisted quietly and jumped. Behind Caranthir was a smaller wave of ice-colored energy, which disappeared after a while.

The little elf landed on soft grass. It was quite far from his teacher's home or town. He stood up carefully and checked to see if the bottle had been damaged when he fell. Sometimes he teleported without thinking. A satisfied smile appeared on his face. The bottle was whole and undamaged. He pulled a small piece of text from his other pocket, which Caranthir had written off while Avallac'h was asleep.

Now is the right time. No unnecessary instruction, prohibitions and orders. I can do it without his help. After all, I'm more special than other magicians. Pride appeared on the boy's face.

He focused his attention on his surroundings. He tried to find the perfect place to perform his spell. It can't be any ordinary place. Magic and power must breathe from that place. It has to call you. He echoed the Avallach commands in his head. Aha! I have it! Caranthir looked at the huge tree. Its crown formed an ideal hiding place, and at the same time a huge force of energy passed through it.

Caranthir worked ingeniously and skillfully, knowing very well what he do. With the stones around him, he created a smaller stone circle into which he inserted the leaves of the Aarkh tree. The leaves were often used for similar magical purposes by various elven magicians.

He smiled proudly after completing the stone circle. He did it himself without the help of some grumpy older elf. He giggled and his eyes sparkled with joy and pride. He was satisfied with himself.

Caranthir took the last step. Invocation of the natural spirit itself. This will be the more difficult step. He frowned uncertainly. But if I can do it, I can prove that Avallac'h made a mistake about me. He starts to take me more seriously.

In the center of the stone circle, engraved a symbol that was on paper. The last step was to apply red and white dust to summon a fiery spirit guard.

With a careful but consistent eye, he poured dust into the center of the symbol. He had to do it slowly and precisely to avoid an unsolicited side situation. Working with fire dust is dangerous, especially for young apprentices.

Done. His ice-blue eyes glowed with joy and pride. Everything was exactly as he studied. Caranthir is a perfectionist on the details, he took great care of. He waited for the sun to cover the huge cloud, which would absorb even the last rays of the sun.

When the sun was covered by a large cloud, Caranthir did not wait and took his chance. He stretched his small thumbs toward the circle and closed his ice-blue eyes tightly. He listened to the sound of the wind, which stroked his platinum hair.

An ice-blue light came out of his hands, and he began to whisper words that were very old and even ancient. Light shot from his hands toward the center of the circle. Caranthir eyes were still closed. He knew he had to resist his childhood curiosity. If he stopped concentrating, it could turn him in a negative direction.

In the center of the stone circle appeared wonderful orange-red sparks, which cluster in one larger one. The noise cluster began to take shape. There was a strange crack. Instead of a cluster and unbridled noise, a small fiery owl with the color of fire sat in the center of the symbol. She looked around curiously. Caranthir couldn't stand it. Curiosity overcame him. The boy's ice blue eyes opened. He stared at the tiny owl elemental of fire. Her tail… burning ?? He was honestly surprised.

Their eyes met. The owl looked into the boy's eyes. She spread her wings and flew to the level of the boy's face. For Caranthir, she was beautiful. The owl maneuvered her wings sharply. Caranthir was startled by her sudden movement. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. The little fiery elemental used his freedom and flew away.

No! I have to find her! The fire owl can cause big problems. Not only me but also others! In despair, his head flashed and he ran in the direction she was flying. He stopped a little closer to the forest. Caranthir looked around nervously, with little hope of finding her. Avallac’h would not be pleased with my exercise. A sharp nervousness ran through his small body.

His eyes shone with hope, when he saw a small point of fire towards the forest. Found her! Without further ado, he ran after her. She was flying over a branch of a withered tree. Smoke began to rise from some parts of the tree. The boy scratched his head nervously.

I have to call her to me! Otherwise, the dry tree may collapse very quickly. The worst option would be to switch to the surrounding trees. I can't risk that! Avallac'h would throw at me not just one book, but the entire library in his study!

Caranthir held out his hands in front of him again, directing his power toward the owl. She understood the command immediately and came to him again. This time she fluttered her wings more slowly, looking straight into Caranthir icy-blue eyes.

There was silence around them. Only the quiet flapping of the wings of the owl's spirit, echoed. Caranthir raised an astonished eyebrow. The color of the owl elemental began to change. The red-orange color has disappeared. It was replaced by blue, which was replaced by black. Caranthir frowned his forehead. She didn't like her color. He realized what that meant. The spell broke. The fiery spirit will explode! Before he could get to safety, the elemental was engulfed in black dust and exploded.

Caranthir saw nothing. He didn't notice the world around him. He was in the dark. The shock wave of the blast threw him into the meadow. He woke up to a long and uncomfortable whistle in his head. Caranthir sat disoriented on the grass and tried to analyze the location.

Explosion. The fiery spirit exploded. His voice echoed in his head very tired. He sighed in disappointment and looked embarrassed at the ground. He was disappointed on yourself, he felt he could do nothing right. I failed. With his right hand, he wanted to fix hair, that had tickled on the right side of his head.

His hand touched his head ... the boy froze. Shock and horror filled his ice-blue eyes. HAIR! Horrified, placed his palm on the right half of his head. He could only feel tiny hair under his fingers. With the bag he had on his belt, he quickly pulled out a mirror.

Caranthir froze. He was missing a piece of hair on the right side of his head. He had only tiny hairs that the explosion did not absorb. The boy just exhaled in frustration. He knew that Avallac‘h would demand the truth of what had happened to him. Caranthir icy-eyes darkened and sparks of fierce anger erupted. He threw the mirror in his hands with all his strength on the ground. The mirror breaking into several pieces.

His eyes filled with coldness. It was the eyes of a winter storm that destroyed and killed everything in its path. He was angry on yourself. On his inability to rise above his curiosity. He clenched his fist. The power in his veins began to circulate rapidly. She connected with his anger and disappointment. Cold and ice began to form around him. He was beginning to lose control.

Caranthir's rage of anger was interrupted by a wild neigh. He looked toward the sound. Not far from him stood several unicorns, who aggressively stomped and scratched. One of them dangerously turned his horn towards the boy. Caranthir felt a noise in his head. He remembered what Avallac'h had told him to do if he found himself in such a situation. He began to mumble a song taught to him by his teacher.

With cautious and slow steps, he began to back away from them as far as he could so, that he could teleport to safety. The boy's body was tense and he felt fear intensify inside him. The black unicorn overcame the boy's intentions and walked slowly behind the boy. Other unicorns joined him.

A cold shiver ran through Caranthir body. The unicorns hurry up. Unpleasant feelings of fear and anxiety ran through his body. He remembered stories of the enormous pain in which elves died of wounds from unicorn horns.

A black unicorn threatened the boy aggressively with his horn. Caranthir anticipated and jumped. Fortunately, he didn't touch him. He regretted leaving Avallach office without his knowledge. He'd rather be bored to death.

Behind the boy came a battle cry of riders. The unicorns stopped, stamped anxiously, and stood on their hind legs. Not a second passed, riders on horses with bright red cloack, attacked on the unicorns. At the speed of the riders, the little elf lost his balance and fell to the grass. The unicorns ran away from the red riders.

The riders proudly called out their triumphant shout. One of the riders turned his dark brown stallion and walked over to the boy. The boy looked at him with curiosity, astonishment and respect for him. The rider carried himself proudly on his stallion. Elegance, pride and something unpredictable and dangerous radiated from him. The rider's green eyes looked closely at the little boy, who was looking at him in great astonishment. Caranthir was not afraid of the rider's predatory eyes.

The rider grinned confidently. He's not afraid of me. I like it. It passed through the head of the green-eyed rider. He removed his helmet from his head, revealing his raven-black hair. For a moment, the boy forgot to breathe in amazement. The elf's green eyes watched the boy's expression in amusement.

"Boy ..." The black-haired elf began in a calm voice, "Tell me what you're doing here alone. Where are your parents? Do they know you're almost at the magic line? ”The elf raised an eyebrow suspiciously and watched the boy's expression intently.

"I don't know my parents, but I have a mentor who teaches me and takes care of me ..." The boy began to talk to him while his ice blue eyes look to the the rider green eyes.

"And he doesn't know I'm here ..." He added quieter. The black-haired elf just tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Doesn't he know? Who is your mentor? ”He asked with interest in his voice. Caranthir just sighed softly and scratched his head in embarrassment.

"Avallac'h .... sir," he muttered. Surprise appeared on the black-haired elf's face. So you are to be our salvation? He looked at the boy with great interest.

"Golden child. That's what Crevan calls you, if I'm not mistaken. ”The black-haired elf kept watching him with interest in his eyes. The boy just nodded silently and added.

"My name is Caranthir Ar-feiniel, thank you for saving my life. I owe you one. ”He introduced himself very politely and bowed. The black-haired elf grinned foxly. Crevan raised you well.

"My name is Eredin Bréacc Glas. I am the leader of Dearg Ruadhi. ” Eredin noticed a spark of knowledge and great admiration in the eyes of young Caranthir.

"I heard about you! You're really amazing! ”Little Caranthir shouted enthusiastically. Eredin laughed at his childish haste and admiration.

Eredin held out his hand to the boy and said with a smile on his lips.

"I'll take you home. I'm sure your mentor will run away from his senses. ” Eredin's green eyes sparkled with malice. Caranthira was surprised, but he didn't ask. The boy did not hesitate. He took the elf's hand and the black-haired elf placed it on his horse. Little Caranthir felt his pride grow. Eredin just narrowed his eyes and looked at the boy closely.

"Hmm ... I swear the last time I saw you, even if only from a distance, your hair was on both sides of your head. Didn't you start experimenting with hairstyles to make Avallac'h angry? ” Eredin asked with a curious grin. Caranthir froze for a moment. My hair ... I completely forgot about it in the confusion. The boy shook his horse in embarrassment.

"I was experimenting ..." Caranthir replied uncertainly. He was ashamed to admit the real reason why he was missing a piece of hair.

"So, the rebel?" Eredin tease him with a cheerful smile.

"Very well. Crevan needs to have blood flow in his veins so he doesn't mummify completely. ” A mischievous smile appeared on Caranthir face.

Eredin just pulled on his stallion's reins and ran across the meadow at the wind. Little Caranthir didn't even think about it and noticed his teacher residence. He swallowed nervously. He will have something to explain.

Avallac'h was about to go looking for Caranthir when he noticed a rider approaching. It was Eredin. Avallac'h went against him, when his eyes widened in surprise and relief. Eredin was not alone. Caranthir also sat on his horse. His stiff face relaxed. He was fine and healthy. He narrowed his eyes carefully. What happened to his hair?

"Crevan," Eredin said calmly.

"Eredin," Avallac‘h replied. There was a strangely tense atmosphere between the two elves. Caranthir was measured first by Eredin and then by Avallac’h. He frowned thoughtfully. Strange. He thought to himself.

"I feel like you've lost someone." Eredin took the boy and laid him on the ground. Caranthir took cautious steps toward his mentor. He didn't even have to guess. He could see very well in the mentor's eyes that he was not thrilled with his trip.

“Lost ..." Avallac'h began in a calm voice, staring his aquamarine eyes into the green eyes of a predator.

"I could argue about that. Since Caranthir has his own head and is responsible for what he does." Avallac’h said and glancing sternly at Caranthir. Caranthir just guilty lowered his eyes and crossed from foot to foot.

"Pay more attention on the golden child. His life was in danger of a unicorn. ”Eredin spoke. He looked into the boy's icy blue eyes and added mysteriously.

"He will play an important role in the future, won't Crevan?" His green eyes looked into the eyes of aquamarine again. Avallac'h just sighed frustration.

"It doesn't matter to me, but to him ..." Avallac’h added lowly. Caranthir looked at him in curiously. What are they talking about?

"Caranthir has learned his lesson today. I think he had several opportunities to learn.” Avallac’h looked at Caranthira. Eredin grinned foxly and nodded.

" Well then. It was an honor to meet you, Caranthir. And by the way, a good haircut.” Caranthir straightened in surprise and looked at Eredin in amazement. His head flashed. He knew what he wanted to be. He wants to become a red rider. Protect his people and be like him the leader of Dearg Ruadhi. Strong, fearless and admired.

Caranthir's thought process was interrupted by his mentor's voice.

"I think you have something to explain to me ..." Avallac'h stood in front of the boy. Caranthir had no choice. He sighed and looked into his teacher's eyes. Did he notice worry and fear in Avallac'h eyes? Caranthir wondered.

"I'm sorry ..." Caranthir began.

"You slept and I was bored ... I didn't want to disturb you ... so I decided to go for a walk." Avallac'h tilted his head gently to his side and raised an eyebrow. He knew that was not entirely true.

"Did you need fire dust for the walk?" Why did you take fire dust?" He continued. His tone was stern but soft at the same time. He didn't need to raise his voice. He was Aen Saevherne after all. Just his presence and conversation with him was a test for some.

"I wanted ..." Caranthir paused. He exhaled and stared into mentor's eyes.

"You wanted?" Avallac'h repeated after him.

"I wanted to summon a fiery elemental ..." Avallac‘h looked at Caranthir and touched the spot where the boy's hair had burned. He stared at him for a moment with a worried look. Then he looked him straight into his icy-blue eyes.

"I guess from your appearance, it didn't turn out the best ..." He saw shame and disappointment in Caranthir eyes. With one small nod of his head, he confirmed the teacher's words.

"I just wanted you to be proud of me ... that I could do it without help ... that I deserve to be a mage ..." The boy's voice broke. He felt tears of shame and disappointment running down his cheeks. He bowed his head so his teacher wouldn't see it.

Two fingers lifted Caranthir head. He looked into his teacher's eyes again.

"It's fine. Sometimes even great magicians fail. ”Avallac'h eyes were calm and radiant warmth of encouragement. He wiped the boy's wet cheeks with his thumb.

"You are still very young. Don't worry about failing. You're still learning. ”A smile appeared on Caranthir face.

"Caranthir, I'm here to guide you and help you on your journey to becoming a magician. It is not a shame to ask for help. You're lucky Eredin found you in time. I'm not angry with you, but you can never do something like that again without my knowledge. Do you promise me that? ” The boy just nodded eagerly. He saw the boy's face relax. The grief disappeared from his face.

"I promise and forgive me ..." A soft smile appeared on Avallac'h face.

" One more thing. I don't say that often but I'm proud of you ...” Caranthir looked at him in astonishment and gratitude. His eyes glowed with pride. Although Avallac’h never confessed aloud, Caranthir was more of a son than an apprentice.

The boy made a gesture that surprised Avallac'h himself. He hugged him tightly. Avallac’h was frozen for a few seconds. But he returned his kindness with his hug. Avallac’h was happy he was okay. He needs to pay more attention to him

"Eredin was wrong in his statement that you were turning into a mummified ..." Caranthir said out of nowhere. Avallac’h stopped. And he looked at the boy in shock. "Mummified?" He repeated, looking at where the rider had disappeared.

You snake..

#caranthir #caranthir ar feiniel #avallac'h #eredin #eredin breacc glas #witcher fanfiction #witcher #my writting #my fic #my story #ao3 writer #little caranthir #fanfiction #crevan espane aep caomhan macha

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gisellelx · 4 years ago

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I think I speak for everyone when I say - can you please write about Esme & Rosalie

By “write about” do you mean fic, or meta? I usually tend toward actual fic when I have something I need to know about. I feel something like, “Oh I need to see what happened here,” and from that comes a fic. That was how this whole thing started: I read Edward's comment in BD about talking to Carlisle about having sex with Bella and went, "Oh that had to have been an awkward conversation, wonder what that was like...." and so "The Talk" was born, and well, that was 12 years ago.

I haven’t written fic about Esme and Rosalie or even written in their POVs much because even though I am fascinated by them, their stories are hard. They are dark. Inhabiting their headspaces is not easy to do. No one is more surprised than I am that so far in Cien Años 75% of the POV is Esme. I guess she has had stuff to say to me all along! Nevertheless, I think this will be forthcoming at some point, and in fact, I'm pretty sure I'm going to capture Esme’s reaction to Carlisle turning Rosalie, because I truly believe she was horrified. Rosalie permanently altered Esme's relationship with Carlisle in ways that they're still suffering blowback from. So here's some meta in the meantime.

That moment would’ve ripped open wounds that she and Carlisle hadn’t talked about as much as they needed to. Of course, some of these things came to the fore when Edward killed Charles and Carlisle was somewhat meh about it, and they spent a long time working through that. But there’s a big difference between your husband being kind of okay with your husband getting murdered (even if your son murdered him) and him bringing home another woman because she’d been brutally gangraped. That would’ve caused all sorts of things to surface for Esme, and would’ve been bewildering for Carlisle, who would’ve thought that they had figured the whole thing out. I don’t believe for a minute the “Of course you couldn’t [leave Rosalie in the street]” from Esme in Eclipse was the end of it. Or perhaps I do believe that it was, but that her own acquiescence means she ends up unhealthily shoving things down. And I think there’re some serious feelings about the negative consequences of Carlisle’s choices not only for Rosalie, but for Esme which sit there, festering, for the bulk of their marriage.

Esme would feel incredibly maternally protective toward Rosalie. She is undoubtedly hurt that Rosalie doesn’t accept her as a mother. And yet, she knows what it is to live eternally with the memory of rape. So there is a part of her that is protecting Rosalie from Carlisle, and from Edward, and from the ways that they remain naïve about the complexity of rape at the hands of your marital partner. Carlisle’s and Edward’s solution to this, remember, is “Well, just kill them and it's all fine.” (e.g. Carlisle's "I looked the other way" in the dinner table summit in MS.) But it can never be that straightforward for Esme and Rosalie, who had, at least on some level, convinced themselves that Charles and Royce would be acceptable, even good, partners. There’s little about Rosalie’s character otherwise which suggests she’s a soulless killer--beginning with the fact that she killed only her rapists and didn’t spill any of their blood, and then continuing on to Bella, which is not at all about killing and but is about protecting her family. So I don’t think she did that and then went, “Welp, great, that’s over!” in the same way I doubt that Esme went, “Edward has taken care of Charles, what a relief!” The pain of those deaths and the conflict of feeling both happy and sad about them just sits there for both of them. And they both pretend for the sake of Carlisle and Edward that they’re perfectly happy, and that’s a hard, hard dynamic. (I think Rosalie is much more honest with Emmett about this and and that in turn complicates the dynamic between Emmett and Carlisle and Emmett and Edward.)

And Esme has to choke it down a lot harder than Rosalie does. Edward and Rosalie, in their petulance, both get to scream at Carlisle on occasion about their anger for his taking their deaths away from them. Esme does not. Rosalie’s presence in their family makes it much harder for Esme to convince herself that what Carlisle did was unilaterally a good thing, but she can't freely yell that at Carlisle. So Rosalie permanently complicates their marriage.

I should point out here that this is a difference between what I think SM intended and what’s realistic based on what SM put on the page and you know, how people actually work. I absolutely believe SM intended for both of them to just have their amazing husbands and their beautiful bodies and to love their existence, as evidenced by the fact that she allows Rose, before and after her explanation in Eclipse to just be a cardboard cutout who only exists to antagonize Edward and hold Renesmee. I don’t think she thought at all about what it would be like for Esme, a domestic violence victim, to have her husband, whom she'd just spent a decade learning to trust, bring a rape victim home and with the idea that she would become Edward’s mate, wtf. SM clearly intended Esme to be the perfect, Mormon stepford wife, and for Rosalie to be the cautionary tale for Bella that not having a child makes a woman go crazy. However, that’s an artifact of the fact that every character in the story who is not Edward and Bella was created to serve Edward and Bella’s story, and it doesn't actually match other things she wrote about these women (Rosalie being willing to kill Royce and his friends; Esme running from Charles at whatever cost). When you truly round out a character, and spend some time thinking about how the backstory you’ve envisioned for them actually affects the way they might behave in a given situation, you end up with characters who don’t always cooperate fully with the plot you've otherwise envisioned. That’s a lot more interesting to me as a writer, and one reason I remain fascinated by this series.

Esme and Rosalie are bonded by their desire to be mothers and by the horrors they were subjected to at the hands of their men. In canon, they get opposite catharses for these problems. Rosalie is able to openly resent Carlisle for trapping her in her worst moment; Esme struggles with acknowledging that she also feels pain there. Esme meanwhile, gets to be a mother, especially to Edward, while Rosalie never gets to have that desire fulfilled. I imagine that their relationship is rich, fraught, and very, very complex as a result.

#esme cullen #rosalie hale #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #tw: rape #tw: domestic violence #meta #asks

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crow-summoner · 3 years ago

Text

Darklina Week Day 6: Monster

Made a Monster

The Darkling promised to raise Alina above all others. Instead, he made her something less than human.

Alina was supposed to be the Darkling’s constant, but when she left him in a hell of his own creation, he reached out for the one thing he could still trust.

1: Antlers

The dress was the final straw. It was made of fine Shu silk, dyed black as everything the General touched seemed to be. The cut emphasized the small of Alina’s waist, its neckline a deep-plunging heart that bore her throat, but that was the problem.

Her throat.

The top progs of the stag’s antlers protruded from her collar bone, still sore and loose under her flesh. David had assured her skin would heal around the bone over time, but she doubted her body would ever fully accept the infestation. The stag had been beautiful. The Darkling’s horns were not. They should have been banished under collar and scarf, not forced to be on display. Even the gold embroidery around the neckline called attention to her shame. Thick, thorny lines twirled around each other like a mass of writhing worms. Like deer antlers eternally locked in a fight.

The Darkling had a sick sense of humor, she had come to learn.

Genya did her best to tailor away Alina’s sleepless night, evening out her tear-botched skin and highlighting the area under her eyes. She darkened Alina’s lashes with beetles and flushed her lips with the scales of a red koi. Alina never considered how many animals died so that she could fit what the masses expected of a hero. She thought the Darkling had made her a chimera when he fused her and the stag, but she had been merging with other creatures since she first set foot in the Little Palace.

What did that say about her, a saint that consumed all life around her?

Genya twisted up Alina’s hair, decorating it with what she called diamond flowers. Alina knew better. They were stars. The Darkling would not settle for merely branding her with his amplifier and his colors. He needed to mark her with his symbols, too.

All of Genya’s efforts were pointless, of course. No one would be looking at Alina’s face and figure. Not when the antlers were in clear view.

Alina stared at them in the mirror. She was used to feeling ugly, not because she saw anything wrong in her reflection, but because someone was always there to remind her of her rough, peasant hands. Her Shu features. Her sickly pallor. She could only hear the comments so many times before she saw it, too. Aleksander had changed that. The Darkling, she meant. Using her powers gave her skin a glow and her hair a sheen, but the way he looked at her as if she were the last sip of water in a desert made her feel like she was more than just the sum of her mediocre parts.

She felt beautiful in his eyes.

Powerful.

Alluring.

It was a lie, of course. His eyes shined for her powers, and nothing more. She mourned what could have been, but not as much as she did for her ability to look in the mirror and like what she saw. She had thought herself ugly before. She had no idea what true ugliness was.

“Are we going into the Fold today?” Alina asked, not because she cared, but because speaking was the only way she could break her staring match with herself.

Genya shook her head. “The General wishes to speak with you in private.”

Alina should have known he would insist on dolling her up for his eyes alone. Powerful men did not share their belongings, and they did not settle for anything less than perfection.

Her patron devil invited himself inside her tent about an hour later. His tongue was heavy with pretty little lies, but she hadn’t the patience to entertain them. She could forgive his secrecy and manipulations. Over time, she could even make peace with all the people he had murdered, though her parents’ loss in the Fold jabbed like a thorn in her heart. But she couldn’t stand the theft. He’d stolen the choice from her. Her heart. Her control over her body. The power she’d been separated from since birth. He took it all and had the audacity to speak as if it were inevitable that she’d forgive him.

He ruined her dreams, so she carved out his. He’ll never have her affections again.

“Fine,” he said, his nose twitching from the strain of holding back his tears. She hoped they were genuine because feelings were the last things she had left to hurt him with. “Make me your villain.”

She hadn’t needed to. He made himself a monster as easily as he made her one.

It wasn’t until the next day, when the Darkling shackled her to the deck of his skiff, that she really understood the depth of his promise. At first, she thought he’d given her a small kindness. She could wear a cloak to cover her shame even if that cloak was a twin to his own, but that didn’t last. It wasn’t enough to mark her with his taste in fashion. He wanted the world to see what he’d done.

He soaked in the crowd’s gasps when they saw the antlers, so proud of his little abomination. Alina was reminded of a poem one of the girls she’d served with had told her. “When is a monster not a monster?” Her answer had been when a person loves them, but Alina knew better. The monster was still a monster even when it was loved. Even when it loved in return. Love just made the resulting pain all the more horrifying.

The skiff pushed forward, dragging Alina into the dark with the rest of the Darkling’s creations.

2: Darkness

Alina was meant to end Aleksander’s suffering. Only she would live long enough to keep him company throughout the ages. They were supposed to be together forever, but they’d only lasted a handful of months. Fate was cruel that way.

Aleksander would have forgiven her trespasses.

Eventually.

Alina was only 22. Of course, she knew nothing of the world. She’d never left the hovel she grew up in until she’d been drafted, and even then, she’d barely left the comfort of a cartography tent. Time would fix that lack of experience, and then Alina would see Aleksander’s genius. Peaceful resolutions meant nothing to those who’d gladly burn their kind. Their peace treaty could only be writ in blood. She’d see. She’d chide herself for believing the Old Woman’s slander. For running away from her destiny and leaving her kind to rot. For denying the hold he still had over her heart. Alexander still wanted that heart even after she let another man put his filthy fingerprints all over it. Her Tracker would turn to dust, and her preoccupation with him would follow suit. She’d seek Aleksander then, and he would absolve her sins.

All she had to do was beg.

It seemed Alina was not so forgiving.

He’d taken her hand – that hand she’d have used to ruin his plans if he hadn’t collared her. The same hand that caressed that pathetic child with a gentle reverence. He would have spared her the fate of her so-called friends. The only friend she needed was him, and all he wanted was her.

She mutilated him for this kindness.

Such ingratitude.

She – the saint, the hero, the innocent ingenue – abandoned him to the gray sand. She knew he was defenseless. After all, she’d personally rendered him impotent, carving a hole in his dominant hand. He needed both to properly focus his power. That, more than anything else, he would not forgive. What good was a Darkling without his shadows?

The volcra descended upon him. He’d shivered the first time he’d seen the creatures his merzost had created. Something neither bat nor human, but some middle ground between. And the teeth. Oh, the teeth. They haunted his dreams for centuries. What he felt then paled in the face of seeing those fangs up close, saliva dripping off yellow bone.

He ducked the monster’s claw, but it’s brother came up from behind, slicing Aleksander’s cheek. He dropped to his knees, flesh burning worse than Alina’s light. The volcra surged forward, it’s mouth wide for the feast.

Not this way. He would not die as prey.

Aleksander drove his fist into the creature’s mouth, punching the back of its throat. Its teeth scraped Aleksander’s arm, shredding his coat sleeve and drawing blood. It didn’t faze him. He’s bled for lesser causes than his own survival.

The volcra gagged, staggering back. It spat Aleksander’s blood out on the sand. Poor thing. All that effort, and it couldn’t even savor the taste. Aleksander could sympathize.

Almost.

Somewhere in the distance, Aleksander’s heartrender cried for help. For a moment, Aleksander resolved to ignore him. No one could escape this hell. The best they could do is take as many of these creatures out with them as they could. But the sun summoner’s betrayal left him feeling strangely sentimental. Ivan had been a useful extra hand, and Aleksander promised to deliver the Grisha to safety. He wouldn’t be made a liar, no matter how strongly Alina insisted otherwise.

Besides, why should he die alone when there was a warm body nearby?

Deep grooves marked where the skiff made its hasty retreat. Aleksander found Ivan there. Scratches marred his face, and the volcra on top of him flapped its wings as it nibbled at his side. Thankfully, it had spared his arms, so Aleksander didn’t have to put Ivan out of his misery. No Grisha should have to suffer without their powers.

A piece of the skiff’s mast had broken off in battle. Aleksander lifted it, forcing it through the volcra’s head. It trashed blindly, giving Aleksander access to Ivan. He slipped an arm under his heartrender’s shoulders, dragging him to his feet. The fool tried to lay a hand on his own chest, but there was no time to slow his own heartbeat. They had to run while they could.

Every direction looked the same, all colorless dunes and darkness, but looks were deceiving. Each oily black patch throbbed with a life of its own if only someone would listen to it. Aleksander closed his eyes and let it speak. They weren’t far from Novokribirsk, but they were not close either. If they ran for it, the volcra would surely catch up. He stood a small chance on his own, but Ivan was like lead. Aleksander should leave him, having paid his debt by freeing him, but something else begged for his attention. Something familiar to him that he couldn’t quite place. He followed that feeling to its origin.

Aleksander dragged Ivan across the sands until they reached it. He couldn’t see it, but he was sure it was there. It called to him from deep in blackness. Aleksander let his heartrender slide to the ground. He groaned in protest, grabbing for Aleksander’s leg as he charged forward, but Aleksander needed to handle this on his own.

Aleksander reached out until his fingers hit stone. It was the briefest of touches, but it was all he needed to recognize the archway. This was once a cathedral before time had worn its walls down and more vines than parishioners called it home. If the King’s men hadn’t hunted him down, these ruins would be nothing but dust, but the Fold had preserved it, a shrine to Aleksander’s last stand. It had been centuries since Aleksander had set foot here, but he could still map every step as easily as he could the Little Palace.

The sound of wings drew him from his memories. He didn’t need to turn around to know he’s been found. The past always came back around, sooner or later. Centuries ago, he transformed the King’s army into something more, and now their descendants had come to make him something less.

Sharp talons raked across Aleksander’s back one after another, spraying his blood against Saint Ilya’s alter. The stone passively accepted the offering. Of course, it did. All religions in Ravka hungered for Grisha blood. How much would it take until Ravka was satisfied? Could it be satisfied? Aleksander supposed he wouldn’t live long enough to find out. He’d worn himself out just trying to stay upright.

The enemy surrounded him on all sides, swooping in and out. They were toying with him, he was sure. They’d already gorged themselves on his men and had all the time in the world to savor the final course. He laughed, clutching his chest. The world swam around him. Sometimes he saw the volcra in the dark. Sometimes it was the King’s men stretching and contorting as day turned to night.

Aleksander collapsed.

A hum grew in his gut the moment he touched the floor. Something deep within the cathedral answered it’s call. He recognized it, this power.

The making at the heart of the world.

It couldn’t be.

Aleksander had used up what little power was left in this holy ground when he created his living darkness. He was sure of it, and yet, the slightest speck remained, waiting for him. Aleksander reached for it. It would take a price from him, but so did everything else. Whatever it wanted was worth salvation.

The whole world was at stake.

“Give me what I asked of you,” he whispered, arm outstretched behind him. He had demanded an army and place only he could control. Instead, he received chaos. He would have his army now. “You owe me!” He shouted, and it was like a dam broke.

Pain crawled up his veins. His kefta felt too tight at his throat, but he hadn’t the strength to tug at it. He was emptying from the inside out, all that he was billowing out his mouth and from beneath his nails. He wanted to pull back before he faded into nothing, but birth was supposed to be exhausting. He had nothing to fear from the dark. In was the one thing that never failed him.

Wisps of shadows sputtered then clung to each other, forging bone from nothing. Arms stretched, claws bursting from incorporeal hands. More and more of these skeletons formed, their skin blurred like ink floating in water. They had no faces, no eyes, no ears. Nothing to distract them from their master’s command.

Save me, he ordered without words. His children heard him anyway. Wings busted from their backs as they took flight. The volcra swung at them, tearing Aleksander’s creatures. Their middles burst apart like loose graphite, but they came back together, safe and whole.

One of the creatures reared its head back, its face splitting to form a gapping hole. Rows upon rows of tiny fangs lined its throat, shredding the volcra as it forced its brother in merzost down its gullet.

Aleksander was not one for tears, but he wept openly. So beautiful. So devoted. Finally, he had the army he deserved. His children born of nothingness. His nichevo'ya.

The nichevo'ya make short work of the volcra. The ones they hadn’t devoured fled. His creatures made to follow, but Aleksander stopped them with a whistle. A child’s place was by their father’s side.

The nichevo'ya flocked to him, nuzzling into his side or licking at his wounds. The blood, he noted, was no longer red, but a gelatinous black. It would fade back to red in a few days, just like last time. For now, the goo had stopped his wounds, and that’s all that mattered.

Aleksander tried to sit up, but he was too weak. With a single thought, the creatures faded into the darkness, leaving only one. Aleksander’s limbs still felt unnaturally heavy, but at least he had the strength to throw an arm around his nichevo’s neck. “Carry me,” he commanded, and it obliged him without argument. If only all armies were so wise.

Ivan moaned in the distance. It wouldn’t do to leave him, not when Aleksander had a whole new arsenal at his disposal. He wished another nichevo into existence. The exertion made his head spin. No more until the left the Fold, he promised himself. Not until he got some rest. Some food. Full restitution.

“Him, too.” He told his creature. It roared, flying to the heartrender’s side. Ivan’s eyes widened as it landed. He struck weakly at its chest, but the nichevo scooped him up with ease.

“Enough,” Aleksander said, his tone leaving no room for arguments. To Ivan’s credit, he immediately went still. Not as obedient as Aleksander’s brood, but loyal all the same. “Stay that way if you want to live.”

Ivan shook the entire flight to Novokribirsk, never looking away from the creature that held him, but did as he was bid.

At the mouth of the fold, Aleksander had his nichevo set him down. His legs felt numb, and he stumbled as he breached the daylight. He longed to be carried again, but he didn’t know if his creations could survive outside their birthplace. The volcra couldn’t.

His knees caved before he got more than a few steps. The sand tasted dull in his mouth. It was tempting to lay there forever, but he forced himself to rise. He had things to do before he could visit his sun summoner. He’d decided to forgive her the way the flames forgave those dumb enough to touch it. The way Ravka forgave its saints. The way she forgave him.

He had all the time in the world to figure her penance.

His two creatures stood in the borderlands, awaiting his orders. With a glance over his shoulder, Alexander bade them to follow. They each stepped into the light of day. No smoke. No screeching in agony. They were good children. His soul made carnate.

His beautiful monsters.

#shadow and bone #darklinadaily #darklinaweek2021 #alina starkov #the darkling #general kirigan #darklina

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gofancyninjaworld · 4 years ago

Text

OPM ‘Majin’ Drama CD Reviews. Part 1 – “Saitama, Makeover”

Summary: Dunning-Kruger, anyone?

Direct link here. Fair warning: don’t be drinking anything when you read/listen to it. It is utterly demented, in a good way.

So, Saitama’s minding his own business trying to score the best deal at shopping when a young lady approaches him with a fan letter. He’s deeply flattered... until it turns out that it’s for Genos. His disgust at this state of affairs is compounded by Genos tossing out the letter unread. Genos doesn’t do fan letters as they have nothing useful to say to him.

Saitama’s mood gets worse when Genos looks him up (at his behest) and the public image of Saitama is less than stellar: “I don’t remember this guy.” “Nothing special.” “Eyes of a dead fish.” And many more less edifying.

As it’s set between the first and second seasons, neither Saitama nor Genos have hero names yet and this gives them an idea. Since no one knows who Saitama is, what’s stopping him from picking a hero name and debuting on his terms?

Well, nothing. Except that between the two of them, they have less creative nous than an office full of auditors on hour 17 of their 3rd consecutive 18 hour work day. But since when did they let total incompetence stop them?

They look around at other heroes for ideas, throwing out the idea of handsome (Saitama’s budget being too low for plastic surgery -- ouch, Genos), mascots, and finally settling on cute. As cats are eternally popular, how about some cat ears. Saitama immediately procures some and yes, they do attract attention but keep slipping off. He asks, nay demands, that Genos get him some duct tape to keep them on his head.

It’s at this point that I stopped feeling sorry for Saitama.

As far as costume goes, heroes who have an athletic physique to show off like Tank Top Master and Superalloy Darkshine are very popular. Saitama has an athletic physique. So... and this is 100% Saitama’s idea... how about all the physique? But for his cape, Saitama strips himself naked, painting himself in the colours of his uniform. Genos has grave misgivings. Sadly these misgivings don’t rise to the level of saying ‘no’ and he keeps adding fuel to this fire.

You have got to listen to the section where the pair are workshopping what descriptors to add to Saitama’s introductory speech. It’s when you realise that a lot of the words are in English and that Genos knows what they all mean, but is tossing them in anyway that the full madness of this segment becomes clear. ONE is also having a poke at Engrish -- English words tossed in for the ‘coolness’, the equivalent of gratuitous French appearing in English.

And so is born the ultimate new hero: “The collapse of the final strength gestalt with endless possibilities - The lone wolf Saitama, the boiled egg (Terror! The monster-devouring cat man)” Yes, that is his new hero name. All that’s left is to find an actual monster.

This being City Z, monsters are never far away and one duly appears. The plan is for Genos to take it on, pretend to lose so that Satiama can swoop in, introduce himself with suitable bombast and send the monster to Kingdom come. Three problems. First, Genos turns out to be an outrageously shitty actor, which quickly turns this showing into farce. Second, Saitama has lost his notes and is fumbling around for them rather than acting. Third, the monster turns out to be actually strong meaning that playing around isn’t actually an option.

And then it starts to rain. The bodypaint isn’t waterproof. Technically it should be as otherwise it’d run when we sweat, but I guess that’s Saitama being a Saitama and going with what’s cheapest. So it is that having finally found his notes, with a horrified crowd and incredulous monster alike watching as paint drips off his bits, Saitama does his best to read the soggy notes that were supposed to mark his triumphant entry... heh heh

Meta: Don’t Fake It

Hoo hoo! I’m sorry, if you’ve still not read it, go read it. It’s so full of evil, evil zingers and the summary really doesn’t do it justice.

Let us establish that any endeavour that starts with the phrase ‘with the help of Genos...’ is not going to be a good one. Dude is like a chainsaw with no guards -- all enthusiasm, no safety.

Despite how disastrous this episode in Saitama’s life was, it’s also quite touching for me that he’s human. He sees the enormous disparity between the way he is treated and the way Genos is and he minds. Saitama doesn’t want to be rich and famous but being recognised and thought well of is important for him. It’s the biggest reason he joined the Hero Association in the first place and so far, it’s not been working out for him. So his grabbing at the chance to set his reputation properly ahead of getting a formal hero name made a lot of sense. It’s good to see that he gets envious, proud, irritated, can say cruel things in the moment -- he’s a person, a good person, but not a saint.

Authenticity is a theme that ONE comes back to frequently. Another is competence -- even if you’re competent in one thing, that doesn’t automatically carry over into other fields. He makes a lot of hay out of the fact that people often over-rate their abilities in areas they know little about. It’s almost axiomatic in OPM that if you hear someone bragging about an ability they have, they’re all but certain to be shown up. And when you put inauthentic and incompetent together, well... it’s funny to watch. So it is that Saitama, who fancied himself a creative, ended up naked in public in the rain. With bodypaint dripping off him. I’m sorry, the image has been indelible for months.

If you’ve ever wished you were less sensitive, look at Genos and be comforted. He has a legitimately thick skin and the way he lacerates Saitama with his words while not being in the slightest bit offended at Saitama’s comebacks is the opposite of life goals. His sharp-eyed notes on the whimsical and superficial nature of public opinion? Spot on.

Genos refusing to read fan mail on the basis that it’s not informative was an ‘oof’ moment for me. Fans often slam heroes for being too keen on public notice and admiration, but the converse is also painful. It’s sad to think that if the little girl he saved from the Deep Sea King sent him a thank you letter, he threw it away unread. It feels like he’s missing half the point of being a hero.

Speaking of the hero name specifically, the requirements that Saitama had for a hero name are actually satisfied by One Punch Man. But it’s not an obvious thing to hit on. All things considered, it’s just as well the Hero Association doesn’t appear to have heard of these antics, or at least not taken them into account when naming him. Or he’d have been Cat-Eared Baldie.

I can 100% understand why King needed to come into the picture. Between Saitama and Genos, they’re unable to muster even a pin-head’s worth of common sense. In particular, Genos doesn’t seem to be able to say no to Saitama and they just egg each other on. King brings a much-needed measure of sense checking to their dynamics.

#OPM #reviews #Saitama #Genos #audio CD #majin drama #those two fools #they need help

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sergeantsporks · 3 years ago

Text

Detour

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

Trigger Warning for minor emotional manipulation

Morgana has one last stop before the Eternal Night begins, to eliminate a possible wizard threat from her past.

It doesn't go quite as planned.

Ao3

or read under the cut

Morgana studied the humans wandering below her. What were they wearing? Did she really have to… fine. Fine, she would blend in. She dismissed her helmet, and glamoured her armor into an off-the-shoulder top and a pair of leggings with boots. She shook her head. It was nice to feel the air on her face and let her bangs and braid flow free, at least.

Eternal night wouldn’t be much longer—it was almost time. She was wasting time, but she told herself that one less wizard in the fight would make things easier. One less wizard to deal with. This was most absolutely a necessary part of The Plan. Right. Completely strategic, and not at all self-motivated.

Morgana touched down outside of the city. She was thankful that the young shadow magician had run about the city while she watched so much, because she found her way easily to a small café and sat down in a chair outside to wait.

It was strategic, she told herself again, one less wizard to worry about. Her feelings had nothing to do with it.

“H—” A familiar accent cut short into a squelched yelp. Morgana turned to look at her waiter.

“Hello, Hisirdoux.”

When she’d possessed Claire, she’d snapped at him. Tried to get him away, to keep him away from Claire and any danger that came with the girl. Tried to scare him off so he wouldn’t recognize her in the girl’s body. He’d done a good job of acting confused at the time, but she’d seen that ever-so-slight change in posture, the slight tensing of his shoulders. Why he hadn’t confronted her, Morgana didn’t know. But he’d known she was possessing the young shadow magician.

Morgana nodded to the chair across from her. “Sit down. I want to talk.”

There it was again, that tensing, that slight edge away. Morgana pushed away a twinge in her heart. She shouldn’t care that he was scared of her. In fact, she should be glad. It would make her job easier. “I… really ought to be getting back to it, so if you want to order anything—”

“I said sit down,” Morgana said sharply. The chair floated up and hit the back of Douxie’s knees, making him sit down, and then scooted in close to the table. Douxie’s eyes darted everywhere, as if looking for someone to save him, but if anyone noticed the teen’s discomfort, no one intervened.

Douxie let out a deep breath, his shoulders still tensed. “Merlin won’t surrender, even if you have me hostage,” he said calmly, “He won’t let you win.” There was a slight tremor in his voice, as if he was thinking about what would happen to him if Merlin didn’t surrender, and Morgana felt that momentary twinge of hurt again.

She leaned back in her chair. Two could play at the ‘totally unconcerned’ game. “I’m not here to kidnap you. It would just be a waste of time—I know Merlin won’t trade for one life if the world is at stake. Even if that life is his apprentice’s.”

A tiny flinch. God, she hated this game. The emotional manipulation, the tiny stings of hurt that destabilized someone enough to make them do what you wanted without making them hate you—she’d never wanted to be anything like her old master. Running the numbers, calculating risk and reward, using people as pawns—that had never felt like her. But just this once, she would stoop to his level. Just this once, something was at stake that she’d lower her principles to get the job done.

She just wished Douxie hadn’t been caught in the middle.

“So, what, you want information? Because I can’t even tell you anything about Merlin’s plans, even if you torture me because—”

“Please, I don’t need you to tell me what Merlin’s up to. The old man keeps his plans close to his chest. Doesn’t share them with many.”

There. A slight pressing of his lips together. She’d touched a raw nerve—Merlin really hadn’t told him anything, but probably had told his trollhunter. And Douxie was acting as if that didn’t bother him. “Right, well, I’m assuming this isn’t a friendly social call, so what are you here for?”

The trembling. The slight shaking of his hands. He was trying so hard not to be scared of her, not to show any fear, and she hated every second of it. But she waved her hand as if she didn’t care.

“Well, quite frankly, dealing with Merlin is going to be annoying enough, and I don’t particularly want any other wizards getting in my way, not even little apprentices.”

The pretense of nonchalance dropped. Douxie’s skin was paler than paper. “So that’s it,” he said in a shell-shocked voice, “You’re here to kill me?”

Morgana examined her hand while her heart screamed at her to give him a hug and tell him that of course she wasn’t here to kill him, of course she wasn’t going to hurt him and she never would. “I don’t want to spill any more magical blood than I need to,” she said instead, “Merlin has to go, of course, but you don’t have to die.” Here it went. The pitch. She had to nail her acting perfectly. “Stay out of the fight, Douxie, and there won’t be any reason for you to get hurt.”

“So, what, just let you run rampant all over the world? Stand by while you destroy Arcadia?”

Morgana gave him a cool look. One more barb should do it. “Shouldn’t be a problem if you really do trust Merlin. Don’t you believe that he and his trollhunter can defeat me?”

“Of course I do,” Douxie replied staunchly, “They can defeat you, and Gunmar, and Angor Rot, and whatever else you throw at them.”

“Then it should be an easy decision to make,” Morgana countered.

Douxie hesitated. “Why do you care so much?”

A slight thrill of panic shot through Morgana, but she kept her outside cool and collected, hoping that Douxie wasn’t as good at reading her as she was at reading him. “Like I said. One less wizard to worry about.”

Douxie crossed his arms. Hm. Maybe he was able to read her. “If you’re so sure you can win, why does it matter if I’m there or not?”

“I’d rather not have one more nuisance in my hair if I don’t have to,” Morgana repeated, “And, like I said, there’s no need to waste magic.”

“If you do win, that’s not the end of it,” Douxie taunted, “If I stay out of the battle and you win, I won’t have any choice but to take up Merlin’s job and fight back.”

He’d gotten more perceptive in the last 900 years. Morgana had been counting him on being the same sweet, bumbling, somewhat-clueless moppet apprentice he’d been when she’d fought Merlin and been sealed away. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, and now he was going on the offensive. “I could just kill you right here, if you prefer,” she snarled, while her inner voice screamed at her not to threaten him.

Douxie’s gaze leveled with hers. “I don’t think you will,” he challenged, “I don’t think you want to hurt me.”

That was it. All the cards were on the table. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go! She’d been quiet too long. She needed to say something, or her silence would confirm just as much as a verbal agreement.

“I—” she stuttered. Oh, that was almost as bad. Fine. “And what if I don’t?” she yelled back, standing up with a scrape from her chair and leaning forward, her hands on the table while the little voice inside her cheered, “What if maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to see you—” people were starting to stare. She couldn’t draw attention to this. She struggled to get her breathing under control and sat back down. “What if maybe I don’t want to see you get torn apart by Gum-Gums, hm? Just—sit this one out, Douxie. You don’t need to fight this battle.”

He crossed his arms, looking away. “You know, for hating each other so much, you and Merlin apparently share a mind,” he said bitterly, “He told me to sit it out, too.”

Douxie was obedient to a fault sometimes—if Merlin had told him to stay out of the battle, maybe he would. “Good.”

“No! I don’t want to sit on the sidelines! My friends—”

“Friends?” Morgana echoed.

“Yeah. Claire. Jim, even though I think he maybe hates me for some reason? They’ll be fighting. And my human friends, my coworkers here, those odd siblings—Aja and Krel? Even if I stand aside and I live, all of them—they won’t survive, will they?”

His voice cracked, and Morgana shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t think about the casualties often. They were necessary for the greater good of all magical creatures. Maybe she was thinking a bit too much like Merlin—something she’d always wanted to avoid.

“War has casualties, Douxie, I cannot pretend otherwise. The trollhunter must die, yes, and I can’t promise that your young shadowmancer friend will make it out alive, either.”

“And I’m just supposed to sit back and accept that?! I want to protect the people I love, but somehow that’s wrong according to you and Merlin!”

“Douxie, you’re not ready for a war.”

Douxie laughed. “Morgana, you and Merlin were asleep for the last nine-hundred years, but I wasn’t. I’ve seen more wars than you or Merlin could ever understand, and some of them used much, much more horrifying weapons than what you and the Gum-Gums will do. I can handle myself, but you don’t think I’m ready, and Merlin certainly doesn’t. I’m not a kid!”

“No one said you were.”

“Merlin seems to think so.”

Yes, that sounded like Merlin. “Merlin is worried that if he lets you loose, you’ll end up like me. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

Douxie’s hands curled into fists. “I’m ready to fight—I am—but Merlin won’t let me. He says I need to keep myself hidden longer. But I’m tired of hiding! I’m tired of being a silent sentinel! I want to do something!”

What exactly was she supposed to say to that? At least he wasn’t scared anymore—he was a little bit too comfortable with her now, as if finding out she wasn’t going to kill him had sent him right back to where they’d been before she’d left—Morgana the older apprentice, and he the younger. Both of them looking for something more. Each of them a willing ear for the other when Merlin had shut them down for the umpteenth time.

“Well,” she said finally, “I don’t really want to fight and hurt you this battle. So perhaps it is a good idea for all our sakes that you sit this one out. It might get ugly if you join in.”

“You don’t have to fight anyone at all. Just call off the Eternal Night.”

She should have known this would happen. “Douxie—”

“You don’t have to go through with it,” he continued, interrupting her, “You could call off Gunmar, or better yet, just not start the Eternal Night and just watch them all turn to stone.”

“No,” Morgana said sharply, “I’m doing this.” She got up, turning to go. “Last warning, Douxie. Stay inside. Stay out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you. But if I have to… well, just make sure I don’t have to.”

Because I’m not sure if I’ll be able to if it comes to that.

#toa #tales of arcadia #tales of arcadia: wizards #tales of arcadia: trollhunters #morgana #douxie #older sister morgana #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

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All in the Family

Chapter 110: The Hogwarts High Inquisitor

After all the general crashing, smashing, and cursing wore off, it was nice to find themselves in a normal part of the castle such as the staff room. A game of chess had been interrupted by Frank, and all the pieces were yelling at him for it, cloaks were hung over the back of a few chairs, a stack of books anyone would peg to be McGonagall's had been overturned, and Professor Sprout had apparently been in the middle of grading a few assignments upon their entrance. Someone had even been reading the paper, Frank noticed as Alice picked up the copy with today's date. He shooed away a pawn that was still berating him and went over to see it had been covering the book, but as he picked it up he looked sharply at her instead as she gasped loud enough to drown out everybody else's mutterings.

Without prompting she read out Umbridge's new position as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, and just what exactly that was. By the end all of them had a nasty pit in their stomach, and Frank was gripping the book like it had toad slime covering it. She'd only been there one week and already had equal power to the Headmaster? What madness was this?

Sirius watched in disgust as Longbottom read the chapter title as repeat of that stupid self-imposed ruling from the toad, but announced the article was read by Harry himself and was forced to reread it, as they all knew the book wouldn't let them skip. It sounded no better the second time, like a worm digging in one ear and down the throat, but sadly gave Sirius's mind a chance to wander and go back to watching Regulus with deep contemplation.

He was chasing the lost chess pieces around, and finally came up with all the white ones, offering Peter a game, who instantly agreed. He watched the two walk away, that pit in his stomach growing.

Some instinct still wanted to go over there and stop this before it went any farther. Logic told him that these two had ended up being Death Eaters without the others' influence, wouldn't them hanging out just fast forward that process?

Then he watched Regulus laugh again, and Peter actually smiled with a kind of pride Sirius couldn't claim to have ever seen.

This whole experience had gone from weird, to kind of cool, to horrifying, to traumatizing, to now just kind of, common place. The last time he'd thought about dealing with Regulus in any capacity had been ages ago now, the Marauders' own business being blown up and finally settling into an uneasy agreement had pushed his brother far from his mind, but now watching the two, he was kicking himself more than ever for it all.

Even being forced into his company Sirius had never properly reached a hand out to Regulus, as Peter himself had once so eloquently put it. He'd begun thinking of his dorm mates as his brothers by the end of second year, and third year had all but confirmed it by the time Regulus walked into school. Peter had even sort of absently replaced Regulus in his mind, the kid brother he could give shit to but nobody else in the world could. James was his equal now, the first to turn to when he had a problem and always had a good solution. Remus even had Regulus' biting sarcasm that he wouldn't let anyone see but his real friends, otherwise he was the face of cool and calm. He'd finally admit to himself watching them now he could have two baby brothers, right?

"Padfoot?" James hopped up on the table beside him where he'd landed and never moved, watching his line of sight. He tried to hide his unease Sirius was scrutinizing the pair again. If Sirius went off again about trying to get them to stay apart, James had no idea how he could step in and stop any of it. He still found it weird himself, but neither was doing any real harm. If anything, James would have to admit the two always seemed in a better mood hanging out with each other.

"It's not too late for us, right James?" He asked quietly, eyes on Moony now as he went over to the cupboard and rubbed his hand thoughtfully along it. Harry and Ron had once hid inside it and listened to the devastating news of Ginny's death and had saved her life in impossible odds.

"No," James said instantly, even if he still wasn't entirely sure what Sirius was getting at. He, as usual, was watching Evans, sitting by Longbottom's feet with Alice and the two whispering suspiciously as Harry's lessons went through without Umbridge, yet, in History of Magic and Potions, though the later of which was still a miserable experience for all.

She hadn't defended Snivellus in some time now, he'd very pleasantly noted, and in fact as talk turned to OWL grades she hadn't even glanced up at the book through the whole class. Maybe she was finally starting to see the git he was?

Then, as the twins arrived, her eyes flickered to him and away so fast, he'd swear his eyes were playing tricks on him. She still thought he was like them, only a troublemaker and nothing more.

He didn't want to open up his own prank shop though. While a worthy cause he'd invest in, he had other goals and aspirations for his life. He'd walked away from his career advice even nurturing the idea of being an Auror. Surely she'd see that as a good thing?

"We've always made our own future," James said practically, now grinning at Moony who was hovering as close to the three as he dared, clearly very invested in this whole teacher grading outcome. None of them acknowledged him, which in itself was a kindness to the fear-filled looks he was probably expecting. "I say we keep doing that."

"Yeah?" Sirius sounded a bit hopeful now. James grinned as he shook his shoulder for emphasis.

"Yeah. You're a bloody impulsive idiot, and I'd never change that, but maybe next time you lay into them, just, think about how bad you felt last time?" He felt stupid putting it as a question, but it was more than obvious Sirius felt bad for something regarding those two in particular. The list of reasons that could be wasn't exactly short, but when James tore his eyes back away to see Sirius honestly considering his words and eyes back on Regulus and Peter, he put it together with Sirius's reaction to Percy's letter.

Sirius wanted to make amends to the two, and he didn't want it to get ripped up in his face.

He tore his eyes away from their game, Peter was winning, and grinned at him. "And you Prongs? Going to put all that practice of annoying Evans finally sink in and try something else?"

"I might," he said honestly, going in vivid detail in his mind over all the times he'd interacted with her, specifically the ones where she hadn't started calling him an arrogant birk. The ones that stuck out were when he'd stopped trying to make her laugh, oddly enough, but had just talked to her. How strange. "Worth a shot."

The two were interrupted by the book, as Umbridge entered Trelawney's class.

"Bet you a galleon someone's going to walk away from this dead," James said uneasily.

Sirius wasn't taking that bet, this was definitely going to be a horror show. It started out memorable enough for sure, Harry giving Ron the task to analyze his dream about drowning Snape gave everyone a grim laugh, even if Lily would deny any such thing. Then Umbridge started asking some routine questions that quickly devolved into Trelawney's shriek of insolence that she could not See upon command. The spectacle finally ended with Trelawney's dour announcement that Harry was to die, again, and honestly it hadn't been as bad as they thought.

"Can I still get that galleon?" Sirius asked.

"No," James huffed.

Umbridge's own lesson in fact ended up being worse, as it ended with Harry in another detention! James snarled in disgust, his hand itching to go for his wand and suspend this woman up by her ankle and leave her there for eternity if she kept doing this to his kid! Sirius was so outraged he stood up on the desk and began shouting several expletives, while Lily let her face fall into her hands. She couldn't stop herself hearing this, but she couldn't keep watching.

"I can't help but be rather impressed with him," Peter said quietly to Regulus as he watched Sirius's face start turning colors. "A lesser man would have backed down after what Harry went through, this kid's still pushing her."

"Being an idiot about it though," Regulus corrected, also frowning in concern at his brother. "You really think getting detentions would change anything but make her happier? Harry would be better off finding some other way to fight back than bowing down." He preferred the idea of getting in her good graces and destabilizing her from the inside.

"It's not as if the Order is exactly sharing how to do that," Peter disagreed, but he could definitely see Regulus's point. Both of them were very aware that if Umbridge were here now, it would be Sirius and James in those detentions and not them.

"Hopefully someone will come up with a better answer for Harry then," Regulus muttered, or the people listening to this were probably going to break the sound barrier first.

Their game forgotten, the two cringed into their seats until Remus finally came over and convinced Sirius to stop threatening for a few breaths or they'd never hear the end of it. Harry's new Quidditch captain and even McGonagall adding insult to injury was improving no one's mood though.

Still, it was nice to see Sirius's temper lash out at someone else for a change, Peter and Regulus even found themselves smiling a bit as the three's not so quiet mutters of what kind of pranks they'd be doing to that Umbridge filtered in the room.

Lily found herself listening grimly to the lot rather than Umbridge and McGonagall's back and forth. It deeply bothered her she found no ill will for listening in detail to their horrible pranking, but was she any better when she'd just been imagining slipping in a slow-acting poison into her next meal?

At least she'd only been imagining it...right? She warred with herself just how far she'd go to put a stop to this, if her own hand was being cut open, if some little first-year's was. The idea of having children was still above her, but she wouldn't deny she felt protective of Harry enough she wasn't going to stop the Marauders if they got the chance of meeting her any time when they got back.

It didn't make their vile ways of doing these kinds of things to anyone that annoyed them any better, especially Sev, but this was also not the first time she understood why they did it. It scared her just as much as her own wavering answer she realized she was actually starting to understand those idiots.

Frank found that things only continued to get worse as Umbridge followed Harry to his next class, Care of Magical Creatures. When Harry was given yet another detention for defending Hagrid from Malfoy's past stupid mistake, he had to fight the urge to join in with Lily this time as she cursed vividly, though not as loudly as Black started doing all over again.

This was beyond disgusting, his Mum would never stand for this happening in Hogwarts! Then Frank looked miserably at Lily, and glanced sadly at the godfather, and reminded himself Harry didn't have anyone to really go to this with.

When Hermione brought up the subject of them just learning Defense Against the Dark Arts straight from Harry, he and Alice exchanged another terrified look. It was such a singular moment to them, they didn't even register anyone else's reaction, this was their own bubble of worry.

Neither had spoken of it because the book itself hadn't, but what if Neville started getting these detentions as well? Was Harry the only one here? Doing this to him was bad enough they already wished someone would step in, but it seemed a disaster waiting to happen if Neville, Ron, Hermione, those twins, and a host of other students were to join Harry.

Frank still remembered Luna Lovegood and Ernie Macmillan declaring themselves publicly believing Harry, and he fidgeted with unease if Harry would still think he was in the right if those around him started suffering his same punishment.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #OotP #Wolfstar #Jilly #James Potter #Marauders #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Frank Longbottom #alice Smith #Lily Evans

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the-wiresmarvelau · 4 years ago

Text

T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S

Peter and his Friends are allowed to design the compound and couldn't help but riddle it with secret tunels and hallways. While Peter installs said hallways he makes some new acquaintences who he has to help and gets help from.

chapter 2

Chapter 1: Set up

Peter let his mind wander, only barely noticing the scenery passing by behind the car window.

He was thinking back to the events of the past one and a half years.

It had been soo much.

Somehow Tony fricking Stark had ended up in his living room to recruit him for an Avengers infight, and ended up mentoring him in not only superheroing, but also all things science related and even normal everyday stuff.

The rest of the consequences from this so-called civil war however hadn’t been as awesome.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, owner of one of if not THE most successful companies in the world and, not to forget, Iron man himself, came home beaten, and in shock. Nobody really knew what happened over in Siberia, apart from those who were there when it all went down.

Back then Iron man hat hated Captain America and, by extension, his team.

Now, Tony was convinced he would be able to get them back in a few weeks; it ‘had taken long enough’ according to him.

Not even four months after the whole Civil War thing went down Mr. Stark had decided to get over himself and begun to consider what would be best in the grand picture; and in his opinion: The world needed the Avengers.

Anytime something like the Chitauri invasion could happen again, a mutant could decide to use their powers for their own gain or organisations like HYDRA could manage to create another super solider.

Not to mention the personal attacks aimed for specific Avengers. Those often included less casualties but if said Avenger isn’t there to react, those people tended to lash out.

So, he had put his personal quarrels with the rogues aside and doubled his efforts to alter the accords in a way that every party could agree and to get the ex-Avengers pardoned.

Before that Tony had already worked hard to mend them in a way that Peter didn’t have to reveal his identity as Spiderman and he was eternally grateful for it; Peter didn’t want this kind of attention, he cherished his anonymity.

And that wasn’t even everything. Tony wanted to make sure everyone felt and was safe.

Safety. Something that the Tower wasn’t entirely fit to provide anymore.

It had been built in a time when more or less everyone had agreed that the Avengers were a good thing or at least no danger for the immediate vicinity.

Nowadays not everyone agreed with Tony on whether the rogues should come back or not.

The general consensus of the public was that the Winter Solider was a threat to society as a whole and their opinions in Wanda weren’t much better.

At least with these two there was a consensus. That couldn’t be said for the rest if the Avengers, team Cap as well as team Ironman.

If the Avengers were to move back to the Tower, everyone in New York would feel threatened and protests were sure to break out, which in turn would bring down the already almost non-existent moral of the team (if you could call them that).

Peter couldn’t help the tiny smile creeping on his face.

As extra as Mr. Stark was he had deemed the already existing compound as too small and unwelcoming.

Without further ado he had ordered to tear the old Structures down and build everything new.

The younger of the two geniuses would never forget the day on which he had found Mr. Stark in his lab, loudly ranting to F.R.I.D.A.Y. about how little time he had; Between the accords, SI and planning the new Compound he was stretched thin as a paper.

As a joke Peter had offered to design the compound for him, stunned when the man paused and decided that, yeah, why not; Let a 17-year-old and his friends go wild with near unlimited resources to plan a living facility for a bunch of spies, mutates, super soldiers and people who could keep up with those.

On the other hand, said teenager should have seen this coming. It was incredibly on brand for the billionaire to forward the most ridiculous tasks to the most unfit to do them (in Peter’s opinion).

At first, he had been horrified to hear what he was asked to do but after some time – and three best friends positively freaking out about the idea of becoming one-time-architects for THE Avengers- the boy relaxed a bit.

Especially Shuri’s assertion, that this wouldn’t be her first time devising such a structure helped.

That was why, the next day, the boy had told his mentor that he had changed his mind and would plan the compound.

How hard can it be, right?

Turns out: it was harder in ways he didn’t expect to become problems and easier when it came to the rest. Overall: feasible.

They had finished the layout about four months ago and by now it was ready to get furnished and finished.

Exactly that was what Peter was gonna do over the next few weeks.

It was summer and he was done with his finals; Not wanting to go stir-crazy with so much time on his hands he had insisted on furnishing the compound by himself.

It was much but manageable. For him at least.

The last year had taught the young hero much, especially about himself and his limits.

For example: Peter had not known that his spider powers included that he needed much less sleep than normal humans, given that he was relatively uninjured.

How had he found out? Well between school, studying for finals, going out as Spiderman and going to the tower to tinker with his mentor he had found himself sleeping only about four hours a day and after a short adjustment period, he was more energetic than ever.

He had also realised just how much his pattern recognition had improved since the bite; and to what extent that helped with learning, for example new languages.

Shuri had taught him a little Wakandan ever since they met which had made him aware that learning languages could actually be fun, if done correctly.

His friends, of course, encouraged him to try for other languages too.

Bevor he just couldn’t decide which one to learn first. There were too many interesting ones

Now that the Avengers were about to reunite, he wanted to make them feel welcome and especially Wanda could probably use someone her age speaking a language more familiar to her than English; so Sokovian would be ideal.

On the other hand, Peter knew that both Black Widow and Mr. Barnes spoke Russian and he really liked the idea of impressing them by speaking a language so different from his native one; he liked that almost as much as he disliked the possibility that the two spies could talk about him or Mr. Stark without them understanding, right in front of them.

Then he had found out that Hawkeye was almost completely deaf and that this had caused some tension in the past whenever Natasha wasn’t around to translate.

Like that, ASL got added to his list.

Three languages were ambitious but at least more manageable than the original list of over a dozen.

Peter was still a bit apprehensive about learning them all at once. That was, until MJ and Shuri began to bet on whether and if: how fast the boy would give up on it.

He knew that if he decided to start learning, he would have to see this through.

But his friends’ gentle bullying and a short motivational speech from Ned gave him the push he needed to take on this challenge.

That was how he found himself practicing every day.

With KAREN it was much easier to practice casually over the day. while he was on patrol, in the lab or at home

She began by telling him random words, in either Sokovian or Russian, apposite to what he was doing at the moment, and also describing the sign in ASL, providing animations of the gestures if needed.

Whenever he had nothing to do, she would quiz him on the learned vocabulary, encouraging him to sign along, and once he had a reasonable basis, she began stating sentences he was supposed to translate or ask questions which he had to answer.

To avoid him mixing up Sokovian and Russian, he always practiced one language for a week, and then the other for another week.

Following Shuri’s advice, he also made sure to have a physical “marker” associated with each language.

On the days he practiced Russian, he put on a watch on his right wrist, when he learned Sokovian he wore a soft fabric bracelet on his left.

According to the princess that would help his brain connect the different lectures within a language.

At first, this process was tedious; Sometimes he just didn’t have the nerves for another lesson or he got frustrated if he didn’t get the words right.

It didn’t help that KAREN sometimes misjudged how much he had to concentrate on different things and began quizzing him at inconvenient times.

But as time went by KAREN got better at knowing when she could distract him and the young genius settled into the routine; to a point where he started to randomly sign words along as he spoke.

It helped him focus on what he was saying, but it also distracted others sometimes. Especially Happy had a hard time following what the boy said when his hands were moving all the time.

Being reminded of the head of security, Peter chanced a glance at said man, who was currently driving.

He was irritable as ever, scowling at him through the rear-view mirror every so often.

Peter flashed him a blinding smile, the next time he looked, before turning his head back to the window and his attention to thinking about the last few weeks.

Distinctly, the new… acquaintance he had made.

About two weeks ago, during an otherwise normal patrol he had found himself further outside of Queens than he usually went.

In the outskirts of hell’s kitchen to be exact.

The spider-powered vigilante hadn’t thought much of it at first and began swinging his way back in the general direction of the tower when a twinge of his spider-sense and curious soundscape in one of the smaller alleys caught his attention.

More specifically the sound of a pretty intense fight going on.

Peter, of course, promptly changed direction to find out what was going on.

Now, he hadn’t expected anything in particular; Peter had learned that having expectations means it is likely that he will be surprised. And that being surprised only paved the way for getting punched, cut or shot, depending on the situation he stumbled into.

Still. He couldn’t help but be confounded when what he saw was a young to middle-aged man, clad in a deep red suit including a helmet with tiny horns, fighting a hoard of.. freakishly soundless … ninjas?

Fortunately for the wall-crawling-superhero the ninjas hadn’t noticed him yet, giving him time to compose himself.

While he had no idea who he should be rooting for, a general rule was that the one fighting alone against a group was usually not the one who picked the fight and would be more cooperative.

Additionally, the man in red seemed somehow familiar; he had probably seen a picture of him once, but he wasn’t sure.

Still. He looked like he needed some help and helping was what the mutate was there for.

“Hey Mr. Red, need a hand dealing with these guys?” Peter asked, already webbing up the first few Ninjas. Completely oblivious to the pun* he just made.

The man scoffed slightly. “Just when I thought you wouldn’t join in on the fun” He huffed out.

“How could I not” Peter replied, delighted that the other quipped back despite his clearly visible exhaustion.

After that the fight didn’t last too long. The horned stranger asked Peter to web all of them up because he neither wanted to be followed by them nor did he kill, which, again, counted as a win in the younger one’s eyes.

They talked a bit afterwards. The man introduced himself as Daredevil aka the Devil of Hell’s kitchen. Peter answered that he was Spiderman and then started to ramble about the article he had read, about the other bringing down this renowned mob boss.

The whole time Daredevil seemed a bit irritated, or confused by something. But he didn’t ask the boy anything and the teenager wasn’t sure if it was rude to ask; after all, vigilantes relied on secrecy, so Peter didn’t comment on it.

Looking back, he kind of regretted it. He would have loved to know what had been on the other one’s mind. But he didn’t have time to sulk about it much, because they arrived just then.

Giddy excitement surged through Peter as he got out of the car and found himself standing before the massive building, that was soon to become the new Avengers compound.

Another reason for why he wanted to furnish everything was, that Mr. Stark had allowed Peter to include secret passageways, which he wasn’t forced to reveal to anyone. He was even allowed to include his own AI in them, which Ned and him had been coding for what felt like forever.

They still had to follow some rules though.

For one: the secret hallways weren’t allowed to contain any clearly dangerous contraptions or traps like great heights, spikes, or an Indiana Jones stile Stone-ball-trap. Ned had been a bit disappointed at the last one but got over it quickly enough.

A secret lab was equally off limits, because “accidents are inevitable” as Tony put it.

Another rule: he had to be able to communicate with F.R.I.D.A.Y., one way or the other, at all times.

He was permitted to veil his exact position as long as the AI could always check whether he was inside the passage ways or not.

FRIDAY also wasn’t allowed to disclose the entries to anyone in any way - unless there was an emergency that is. Most emergency protocols included giving away the entrances to the secret passageways on request of any inhabitant; as either hideout or escape routes.

A tap on the shoulder from Happy brought him back to the present and he hurried to help his driver getting his luggage out of the car.

He would spend his whole summer at the compound, half of it almost alone; with only Tony, Pepper, Vision and Happy checking in occasionally.

For the nights he could decide whether to stay at the Tower after patrolling or go back to the compound, depending on what he felt like.

He’ll still patrol of course.

He had planned to spend most of his daytime putting everything in place. Getting furniture where it belonged, disguising his secret passages, ordering final decorations and equipment, making sure everything was in place.

In the evenings he would swing his way to Queens and fulfil his responsibilities as Spider-Man.

He had to report back to either Tony or Pepper at least every two or three days, because May was on a trip for Doctors without borders and therefore not available all the time; but he had promised to call May every day.

Happy bid the Yong hero goodbye and, with a last good look back at the kid, drove off. He wasn’t convinced that letting the kid go nuts with designing and furnishing the entire compound alone was that good of an idea.

On the other hand: it was by far not the most questionable thing Tony had done -or had allowed to be done for that matter- and he didn’t have a say in the decision anyways.

Peter, energetic as ever, went straight to work, deciding that he should start by setting up his room, so he had a place to sleep for the night. For convenience.

Then he would set up his lap before furnishing Tony and Peppers room as well as Vision’s, and Happy’s, since those four would probably be his only visitors for the next five or so weeks.

Whenever he got bored of moving stuff around -or he just wanted to tinker for a bit- he could prepare the entrance mechanisms for his secret pathways, which he and his friends had begun to call “T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S.”; Short for “The Hidden Entry’s Will Indefinitely Remain an Elaborate Secret”, a sarcastic remark from MJ which Shuri proposed to send as cryptic letter to one of the Avengers, in case they didn’t notice the pathways for long enough that it got boring.

As Peter wrote the phrase down, he realised what a perfect acronym it was, since the small hallways and crawlspaces connected the rooms like wires the different parts of a machine. And just like that - the new name was born.

As he stepped inside, the boy couldn't help the chills running down his spine at the emptiness of the building.

For some reason it reminded him of the abandoned warehouse that the Vulture dropped on him.

Huge.

And empty

And. . . MASSIVE.

'No!' he reprimanded himself in his thoughts.

’This is different. These walls could withstand such a silly. Little .. sharp clawed wingsuit.

Probably...’

And besides! He was not as helpless as he had been back then.

‘I have my suit; I'm more experienced and I have Karen. I’m not on my own.’

With that in mind he began to make his way up to his new room to deposit his luggage.

The elevator was already working and connected to Karen for the time being. Tony had agreed that it would be easier to keep THE WIRES a secret if Peter were to set up the entries before FRIDAY was installed.

Additionally, Tony had more time to code the update he had planned for her; it would have been an unnecessary hustle to upload FRIDAY only to get her shut down for the update a week or so later.

"KAREN? Up to the first floor please" Peter asked; ever politely.

'of course, Peter' his AI replied.

"Where did Mr. Stark say the furniture was delivered to again?" the young hero inquired, just as the elevator came to a stop and he headed over to what would soon be his room;

'Mostly in the Garage and the adjoining lap.' Karen’s melodic voice answered.' The furniture for your room and the kitchen on the ground floor are closest to the lifts entrance. For easy access. Oven, fridge and other kitchen machinery on both floors is already installed.'

"I knew I forgot something." he mumbled under his breath; then, louder: "Thanks’ Karen. What would I do without you?"

‘Starve; as it seems' Came Karen’s answer - cocky and with an almost human level of amusement.

‘Or you would have long since bleed out in some ally; refusing to call Mr Stark because „it’s just a little stab wound".'

They continued to banter back and forth like that, while Peter began furnishing his room.

His super-strength combined with his intuition for, and knowledge of physics made it fairly easy for him to manoeuvre all the stuff in and out of the, fortunately, large elevator... or maybe less fortunate and more designed that way.

‘By myself!!!’, he couldn’t help but think, as a spark of pride and excitement surged through him, while thinking about it.

He finished to set up his room and unpack rather quickly.

The carpets and wallpaper had luckily already been put up, which made the whole ordeal at least ten times easier.

Afterwards, at the insistence of Karen, he went on to get the kitchen ready for use while a Pizza was already in the oven.

Everything worked out as planned. There was no furniture missing, nothing broke and he got all the things done that he planned for the day.

It went fairly similar the day after.

And the day after that.

And the day after that and so on for about three weeks.

Patrolling seemed to go smoother lately; he got injured less, most likely because he actually went to sleep regularly; for once in his teenage years; and Peter felt the days fly by in a fulfilling blur.

But as relaxing and comfortable as these past weeks had been, Peter couldn’t help but wish for something interesting to happen. Especially as he swung through the city one night, elated from the adrenalin coursing through his veins with every twipp of his webs, every fall he caught in the last second.

He let his mind wander - through the compound, which looked more and more like a home with every shelf he installed, every painting he hung up – to Daredevil, who he hadn’t seen again even though he went near Hell’s kitchen more and more often, -to his friends, Ned and MJ, who had come over to help him for a few days, Shuri, sadly, hadn’t been allowed to come over, but at least they facetimed almost every day.

Just as his thoughts meandered to the special guestroom Mr. Stark had requested for some mysterious person who might move to the compound, according to Tony, in the not so near future; the boys attention got caught by a strange, greenish-gold light on one of the higher roofs.

It seemed so unnaturally... natural.

Too natural to belong in the middle of a city.

Nothing like the artificial neon lights and light up adds.

But it didn’t trigger his Spidey-sense, which was curious.

The spider themed hero landed on a roof not far away to inspect that strange source of light.

Now that he got a proper look at it, he realised that it was humanoid figure surrounded by something like an .. aura? in gold and a deep green. The person had about shoulder-long, black hair and wore a long, dark, leather looking coat with green accents.

They looked somewhat familiar but Peter wasn’t quite able to place them; that is, until they turned their head around, ever so slightly.

“Karen..? activate ’don’t tell mom Protocol’ please”

chapter 2

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad #fanfic #marvel #mcu #chapter 1 #chapters #i don't know how tags work #feedback pls #compound

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elyvorg · 4 years ago

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Wandersong character rambles 3 of 3: Audrey

Wandersong is so incredibly good that I need to get all my Thoughts about it off my chest by writing a series of rambles analysing its three most important characters. Here’s the final one at last! There will be spoilers, obviously. Plus, this’ll probably be kind of hard to follow anyway for people who haven’t played the game. Go play Wandersong! You won’t regret it.

1 of 3: Kiwi (the bard)

2 of 3: Miriam

The bombshell

Encountering Audrey at the end of Act 3 was a huge, earth-shattering reveal for Kiwi. “Oh, hey, you thought you were chosen by Eya’s messenger as the hero who’ll save the world? No, actually you’re not the chosen hero at all; you’re nobody. Here’s the real chosen Hero: look at how cool and badass and swordy she is, exactly like a proper hero, not like some silly bard like you. And also? Your attempt to save the world was almost certainly never going to work anyway, and you should have just given up from the start.” Ouch. No wonder they moped around for half an act after that, with how badly they’d been wanting to be a hero and make a difference.

But that same moment would also have been an equally horrifying reveal from Audrey’s perspective. “Oh, hey, you thought you were chosen by Eyala as the hero who’ll save the world? No, actually, turns out she chose you to end it. Also, here’s this other person, some random nobody bard, whom Eyala also seems suspiciously friendly with – and apparently, they’ve at least been trying to save the world, unlike you.”

The thing is, Audrey’s grim task of ending the world is still necessary. The Overseers’ corruption is inevitable and cannot be reversed, only temporarily slowed. The world’s inhabitants would be stuck in a living hell for eternity if something wasn’t done – and the only thing that can be done (aside from the Earthsong, which has never worked) is to end this universe and start a fresh one. The “Hero” essentially exists to put the universe out of its misery once things inevitably begin to fall apart.

So, the problem with Audrey isn’t that she’s trying to end the world, because somebody literally has to, and that unfortunate somebody is her. The problem really lies more with how she responds to the part where having this task means she’s been arbitrarily designated “the Hero”.

This part’s kind of Eyala’s fault. A “hero” is not quite what you’d think to call someone with the job of giving the world and swift and painless end – but it’s pretty understandable given the circumstances. Way, way back in the very earliest cycles, the original few chosen people must have been extremely reluctant to carry out their task. How many cycles do you want to bet it took before Eyala started giving her chosen world-destroying warrior the title of “the Hero”? It’d be much easier to convince them to do it if she framed it like it was totally a good thing, including lying to them – or at least being very deliberately vague – about what killing Overseers even meant until the last one.

The only issue with this is the inevitable fallout when the “Hero” learns that they’re not really being a hero and saving the world at all. And since Audrey ended up learning this fact far sooner than she was meant to, this fallout is much more spectacular than it probably usually is. Especially because she seems to be a lot more desperate to be a hero than most Heroes probably usually are.

(I know the game doesn’t consistently capitalise the word “Hero” as referring to Audrey’s role, but I’m going to, because there’s a very pointed distinction between that and the normal definition of the word “hero”.)

End the world to be the Hero

When Audrey asks Eyala a little later, after killing the Queen of Winds, why she wasn’t told about the whole ending-the-world thing sooner, Eyala explains that it’s usually difficult for “normies” to understand why this needs to be done. That “normie” comment in particular really seems to get under Audrey’s skin – the idea that, despite having chosen her as the one and only Hero, Eyala nonetheless still sees her as a normal person. Heroes aren’t supposed to be normal people. Audrey’s not supposed to be normal. And apparently, the thing that makes Eyala assume that about her is the idea that she’d be freaked out over ending the world, huh?

But no, of course Audrey’s got to be more than just some normie. So she pretends to be super chill with it all (even though she definitely isn’t), with a cool, casual, “may as well be me, right?”. Eyala responds with “That’s why you’re the Hero!”, further cementing the idea in Audrey’s head that the Hero is supposed to be eerily chill with ending the world. By the way Eyala’s talking about it, if they weren’t, they wouldn’t be the Hero.

(In reality, this is probably never the case. That’s precisely why Eyala doesn’t usually like to tell them until the end! But that’s not how Audrey ends up seeing things.)

As a result, the next few times Kiwi and Miriam meet Audrey and interact with her, she appears to have settled into a sort of inherently contradictory doublethink in order to cope with what she has to do and make herself okay with it.

On the one hand, whenever possible, Audrey will act as if the fact that the world is ending has nothing to do with her actions. She calls her meeting with the king of Rulle to get the Overseer song “important saving-the-world business”, which is totally what she’s doing as the Hero, right. Kiwi and Miriam are the only other people in the world who know it isn’t, but that doesn’t stop her trying to frame it that way to them. She also frequently talks about how she needs to kill the Overseers to stop them corrupting the real world, and yet it turns out that things become at least equally corrupted once they’re dead anyway. Audrey even has the audacity to complain to Kiwi and Miriam that the spirit world is collapsing because three Overseers are dead, in a way that sounds like she’s blaming it on them. But, hm, I wonder whose fault that really is.

Yet at the same time, when she actually has to think about the fact that she’s ending the world, Audrey will be absolutely adamant that this is definitely what she has to do and wants to do and she’s completely okay with it.

Her justifications of this don’t even make any sense. She just clings to the circular logic of “I’m the Hero who has to destroy the world, that’s just how this works, I’m sure of it because I’m the Hero, and the Hero knows how this works.” She refuses to entertain any premise that involves her maybe not being the Hero, and she keeps repeating the words “that’s just how it works” to avoid thinking about the part where she doesn’t like how this works.

If she doesn’t end the world, she’s not the Hero. If she’s not making the right choice here, she might not be the Hero. If she’s freaked out and way out of her depth and isn’t even sure what the right choice to make is, then she’s definitely not the Hero. But no, she has to be the Hero, so she’s obviously making the right choice and obviously things happening this way is Just How It Works. The Hero knows best, and she’s the Hero, end of discussion.

As Audrey eventually more or less admits to Kiwi, albeit only when they’re trapped in a cave with no apparent hope of a way out, the reason she felt she had to hide all of her doubts about this is because otherwise, Eyala might think she’s not the Hero. She’s terrified that Eyala could revoke her Hero status and take away her power if she shows any kind of weakness in front of her.

Unfortunately, though all of Audrey’s desperate justifications to herself originated mostly for the sake of keeping up her façade in front of Eyala, they’ve become so ingrained that they’re still very much there even after she’s told Eyala to leave her alone. (It probably doesn’t help that, even aside from what Eyala appears to think, Audrey herself seems the type to personally agree with the idea that heroes need to be perfect and unflappable or else they’re not really heroes. That’s definitely how it works, right.)

There is a hilariously blatant contradiction between the way Audrey claims that she got rid of Eyala for telling her what to do all the time because “real heroes should think for themselves”, and yet she’s clinging to ending the world as what she has to do without actually truly considering whether it’s really what she wants to do. She says she’s not Eyala’s puppet, but she’s continuing to do precisely the thing that does just make her Eyala’s (or, like, destiny’s) puppet rather than having any agency of her own.

Kiwi even tries to point out to her that now that she’s ditched Eyala, she really can choose not to end the world. But Audrey’s having none of it. Obviously she has totally “considered all the angles” and come to a very rational conclusion here and isn’t just saying that so that she doesn’t have to actually think about it.

Maybe if Kiwi had had a chance to try and get through to Audrey sooner, they’d have made more headway. But at this point, Audrey’s spent several acts desperately justifying everything to herself while not being able to talk to anyone about how she really feels about all this, and all those built-up insistences and defence mechanisms have become nigh-unbreakable.

Audrey already knows she’s lying the moment she makes the promise not to end the world, and really she’s planning to break that promise as soon as she manages to get her sword back. In her mind, ending the world is a necessary part of her being the important chosen Hero. She’s spent so long focused on that by now that the thought of betraying some silly little bard’s silly little “promise” sure as hell isn’t going to make her throw it all away.

Despite Kiwi having fervently told her that she should be trying to find another way, as she’s trying to kill the final Overseer and end it all in Act 7, Audrey’s still clinging to her task like her life depends on it. She can’t ignore what she’s really doing any more, not now that the end of everything is right here – but instead, it seems like she might have twisted things around in her head and found a way to make herself okay with it anyway. It’s the whole entire universe, right? And she’s going to be the one to end it, the one who was chosen to end it. It might not be a good thing, but it’s a huge thing – the most important thing there has ever been. If nothing else will, this will make her matter.

Who’s the real hero here?

The thing is, when Audrey claimed that she ditched Eyala because Eyala was manipulative and kept telling her what to do, that wasn’t actually quite it. Audrey was the one who lied. As Eyala informs Kiwi later, the real thing she said to Audrey that set her off was something like, “hey, maybe you should let the bard get the Earthsong pieces before you kill each Overseer”. Seems a reasonable suggestion – let the world maybe be saved after all! – but Audrey couldn’t accept that. That’s because what she really heard from it is: maybe you should let that bard be the real hero instead of you.

Audrey’s other, bigger problem is the fact that she absolutely cannot stand that thought. She never, ever admits it, even when they’re trapped in the cave and she’s being more honest than usual about some things, but she is absolutely, blatantly 1000% jealous of Kiwi for being a better hero than she is and taking the spotlight away from her.

There’s a few little hints to this even before the big conversation in Act 6. In Xiatian, though Audrey ends up obligated to let Kiwi and Miriam join her in meeting the king, she makes a point that they’re her “flunkies” and outright refuses to let you walk ahead of her. She can’t stand the thought of Kiwi coming across as more important than she is. And then there’s that scene on the boat to Mohabumi, where Audrey’s attempt to get Kiwi and Miriam in trouble accidentally ends up making them seem cooler than her. She awkwardly leaves without another word, regretting everything.

You can even pick up on the fact that Audrey’s lying about why she got rid of Eyala in that conversation in the cave, before we hear it from Eyala herself. Audrey claims Eyala told her, apparently word-for-word, “the Earthsong is totally made up, and it’ll never ever work” – but this doesn’t even make sense. If the Earthsong is made up and doesn’t exist in the first place, then there is no “it” to potentially work or not work. The two statements contradict each other. Audrey is quite clearly bullshitting this whole claim and saying what she wishes Eyala had said, because she so desperately wants Kiwi’s quest to be futile. (Well, she’s either lying to herself here, or she’s lying to try to convince Kiwi to actually give up. Or, most likely, a bit of both.)

Not only that, but Audrey completely contradicts her insistence of “Eyala just told you what you wanted to hear” moments later when she makes it a point to clarify that, wait, Eyala actually explicitly told Kiwi they’re not the Hero? Kiwi confirms this, and then goes off on a big sad vent about feeling useless and wishing Audrey would do the right thing with her power, which goes completely over Audrey’s head because she’s so stuck on the they’re not actually the real chosen Hero after all, thank Eya, it’s still me.

(Audrey does give a brief “Really?” as Kiwi admits to being jealous of her, which is probably mostly about “wait really, you’re not the Hero?” but could also partly be a very heavily-suppressed “wait, you’re jealous of me?” Why would the obviously more heroic one here have any reason to be jealous of her?)

(I also love how blatantly she’s lying when she claims she doesn’t care if Kiwi thinks she’s the Hero or not. “It’s totally inconsequential,” yep. Hearing the person who’s actually been saving the world point out how unheroic her choices are is kinda getting to her, it seems.)

When the bugs show up to rescue them and Kiwi realises that they’re the one with the power to decide what happens here, saying that they could leave her here and go save the world right now, Audrey is Not Happy. “Don’t do that! That won’t…” Won’t what, Audrey? They’re going to save the world. Isn’t that a good thing? Doesn’t it ultimately not really matter if you get left behind in a cave so long as the world doesn’t end?

But no. She can’t allow that. She fakes her promise to Kiwi with the full intention of breaking it not only because she’s convinced herself she can’t not end the world, but also because she can’t afford to let Kiwi save it.

(It’s unclear precisely how the Earthsong was meant to work: whether, once assembled, it could have been sung at any time to fix the universe, or whether, like the Wandersong, it still needed to be sung after the last Overseer had been killed. If the latter is true, then Audrey could still have got to feel important by carrying out her task of ending the world while also letting it be saved. But it was never just about that.)

In Act 7, as Kiwi confronts her with the truth that Eyala never lied to or manipulated her, Audrey doesn’t even bother trying to deny it. Instead, she just frames it as “even Eyala turned on me”, and “she was WRONG”. She’s still utterly refusing to admit that maybe Eyala actually had a point about letting Kiwi try and save the world before she ends it – and she definitely won’t admit that perhaps Eyala really thought Kiwi was the better hero, despite who she officially chose.

After the fake-out first time she “kills” the Dream King (before the boss fight starts), Audrey declares, “I win!”. Like that’d ever have been her winning anything. It’s almost like the fate of the entire universe has twisted into a competition to her, to prove that she’s definitely more of a hero than them, that those two losers can’t make any kind of difference at all.

A bad way to be jealous

I love that this game’s three lead characters, who all want to be heroes in some way, are all jealous of at least one of the others for seeming more heroic than them. The big contrast is in how they deal with that jealousy.

Kiwi is so precious and non-malicious about it; they literally admit to it in the same breath as they remark that Audrey must be really special to be able to use the sword. Despite having grumbled a lot in the beginning, Miriam also manages to remain non-malicious about hers in the long run, admitting to being jealous of Kiwi at the same time as she admits that Kiwi inspires her to be like that too.

But Audrey? Not so much.

Those times she shot both Kiwi and later Miriam with her lightning-sword for no good reason were absolutely done out of jealousy. Audrey shot Kiwi right after learning that she’s really ending the world and Kiwi’s been trying to save it; it can’t have been anything but her lashing out in a heated moment of jealous anger at them for being better than her. (Sure, they were rushing at her – but she started charging her sword before they began to do that. And also, what was Kiwi ever going to do to her anyway? Angrily sing in her face?)

The time she shot Miriam was probably also a similar thing. Miriam had just been a hero to those two fairies by helping them escape – how dare she be more heroic than Audrey! And, no, Audrey’s The Hero Totally Knows Best excuse that Miriam shouldn’t have let the fairies out of the spirit world is simply a load of crap; the fairies are not corrupt or dangerous, and the spirit world was about to collapse anyway. (Not that shooting Miriam would have been justified even if that had been a genuine mistake; if someone makes a mistake, you don’t fix it by hurting them.)

It’s not Audrey’s fault that she’s feeling jealous of them, just like it isn’t for Kiwi and Miriam with their jealousy. Nobody can control feeling that way. But what Audrey can control is the way she acts as a result of her jealousy – and she chooses to act like a violent bully and use the fact that she’s the Hero to tell herself she’s in the right. That’s, uh… not a very heroic look for you there, Audrey.

There’s also some more signs of her tendency to put other people down to make herself feel better when she and Kiwi are escaping the cave. When she talks about Miriam, Audrey casually complains about Miriam’s personality like she expects Kiwi to agree with her. She secretly looks up to Kiwi and wants them to like her, not that she’d ever admit it, so she tries to gain favour with them by talking bad about someone she considers to be beneath both of them. That’s also the kind of thing a bully would do.

Naturally, Kiwi is having none of that crap and calls her out on it immediately, making it clear that they care about Miriam a lot more than her and refusing to let her forget the part where she hurt Miriam. It is so adorably Kiwi that they only vent how mad they are about her acting like a bully despite being the “Hero” when they’re thinking about how she hurt their friend. It is also very heartbreakingly Kiwi that they never even think to bring up the time that Audrey hurt them in exactly the same way with absolutely zero attempt at justification. (Their suffering doesn’t matter, right?)

In fairness to Audrey, this angry rant of Kiwi’s does get her to apologise for hurting Miriam and realise that that was not very heroic of her. But the way she explains her apology as “I’m doing my best to be the Hero and do the right thing” suggests that she’s mostly spurred to apologise because hurting someone makes her less of a hero. There’s still no particular indication that she simply genuinely feels bad for hurting someone, Hero or not.

Why care about people?

See, Audrey’s desire to be a hero appears to be largely self-serving, out of a desire for her talents to be admired and appreciated by others, not out of genuine desire to help other people regardless of what it means for her. She just doesn’t seem to have that selfless instinct that’s exactly the thing that makes Kiwi such a naturally good hero even when they don’t believe they can be.

When Kiwi is trying to explain to her why they were kind to the bugs, Audrey is really bad at grasping it. She gets stuck on “How did you even know they would help you?”, completely not getting that that’s not the point and that Kiwi was kind to them simply because everyone deserves kindness. Apparently she is thoroughly unused to the idea of doing something for others without expecting anything in return.

This is also illustrated by the part in Xiatian where she makes Kiwi and Miriam go buy a potion for her in exchange for meeting the king. She never outright needed the potion for anything; it’s just that it didn’t even cross her mind to help them without making them do at least something for her as payment. And it seems Miriam was correct in her assessment that really Audrey did this as an excuse to not have to help them, entirely on the basis that they didn’t help her first. Like nobody could possibly ever expect her – the Hero – to just, you know… do something nice for someone?

Also, in the bugs conversation: “Can you imagine how that feels?” “What, to step on bugs?” It does not cross her mind that Kiwi was obviously asking her to see things from the bugs’ perspective until they clarify. She’s just really unpracticed at caring about others.

Audrey explains to Kiwi that she was always strong and smart and pretty, but that none of those things made anybody care about her. Really, it’s fair enough that they wouldn’t, because those are pretty much just talents, things you have, rather than choices you make about the kind of person you are. But Audrey seems to feel like people should have automatically liked her just for those superficial reasons, rather than for anything about the way she acts. And since nobody actually did care about her for those talents of hers, things she was probably born with, she seemed to feel that there was nothing else she could do to change that. (At least, not until she happened to become the Hero overnight and suddenly her talents were awesome enough that people did care.)

But that’s not really how it works at all. That one crying dude who gets a dog in Chismest says something surprisingly profound in the ending: that while you can’t control whether other people care about you, you can control whether you care about other people, and this tends to naturally lead to people beginning to care about you, too. It seems like this is precisely the thing that Audrey never realised.

When Kiwi asks to be sure that, wait, really, nobody cared about her?, she just casually says, “Why would they?” like it’s perfectly normal. Having learned that being smart and pretty are not actually things that automatically make her liked, she doesn’t expect anyone to extend basic compassion and empathy to her anyway. And, in turn, she sees no point in extending any of that to anybody else, either.

Considering that Audrey felt nobody cared about her prior to her being the Hero, you’d think she’d have had an easier time relating to the bugs feeling small and insignificant, like Kiwi can. But… apparently not? Perhaps becoming the Hero simply went to her head and shifted her view of herself so much that she can no longer even consciously remember what it was like to feel unimportant. Or, perhaps more likely: she was just so used to the thought that nobody should care about anybody without a good reason that the bugs’ situation never crossed her mind as being something that she in particular should relate to.

It’s honestly kind of messed-up and sad that Audrey is like this. After Kiwi explains to her why kindness is important using the example of the bugs, the only comment she has is, “You’re so… simple.” Like she’s still just convinced somehow that their kindness-centring worldview is naïve and wrong. Why is she so sure about this? What kind of childhood did she have to make her grow up thinking this is how the world worked?

…I wish we knew. Or, at least, that we had enough hints to piece it together. I talked a bit in both the Kiwi and Miriam posts about the way their childhoods and awkward family situations explain a lot about how their issues came to be. And in Kiwi’s case, they didn’t even need to ever talk about it themselves for it to be possible to figure it out. So even though Audrey is definitely also someone who wouldn’t want to open up about this, I wish there had been clues anyway.

And there could have been! We don’t even know which of the regions of the game Audrey grew up in; not a single thing (at least, as far as I’ve noticed) indicates where she came from prior to showing up one day as the Hero. But what if one of the regions had had little hints that this is Audrey’s childhood home, something that could help explain why she grew up believing that nobody could ever care about another person without getting something out of it in return?

As it is, it’s so easy to just want to write Audrey off as A Bad Person… but nobody’s born that way. It would be so disappointing if that was just it. No matter how much I enjoy all of her hero issues and delightful obvious hypocrisy and appreciate her as a character, when this is all I can find after digging to the bottom, it’s unfortunately hard for me to like her as a person. And I really wanted to! I wish I could have truly felt whatever messed-up past made her tragically see the world this way, and cared about her as a result of that.

But it’s hard to fully care about a character who’s acting like kind of a self-absorbed dick for a reason that isn’t ever quite explained. It’s a small shame in an otherwise wonderful game, and an otherwise really interesting character!

“That’s not enough”

Another parallel I love about the three “heroes” of this story (using that word loosely in Audrey’s case) is that none of them like to admit to their weaknesses very much. Kiwi is an example of how not admitting weakness can be for the sake of helping others; Miriam is an example of how it can simply be because admitting weakness in and of itself is scary. And Audrey is an example of how not admitting weakness can be entirely self-preserving.

She just didn’t want to not be the Hero. She felt like she had to pretend she was perfect and unbothered by ending the world, because if she didn’t, Eyala might take her powers away and force her back to the way she was beforehand, when she felt small and weak… and normal. (What a strange thing to be afraid of being! Miriam at least would have really loved to be just normal, and a lot of her arc was about coming to terms with the fact that she never will be.) Whatever it was in Audrey’s past that messed her up like this, it’s something she’s really scared of going back to, so much so that she clings to being the true “Hero” who ends the world despite everything.

And Kiwi seemed to get this! Their absolutely lovely final speech to her, reassuring her that she’s special and amazing and really deserved to be chosen as the Hero but doesn’t need to end the world to prove any of that to be true, was something I genuinely thought was going to get through to her. It sounded like exactly what Audrey had always needed and secretly desperately wanted to hear. Her expression seemed like she was actually considering it and being swayed by it, too.

…Yet, somehow, that’s not enough. Despite everything, Audrey ends the world anyway, before Kiwi gets the last Earthsong piece, leaving no chance for saving it as far as she knows.

The reason, as far as I can see it, is that while Kiwi’s speech solved Audrey’s first issue of clinging to ending the world to feel like she’s “hero” enough, it didn’t remotely solve the second issue – namely the thought that Kiwi is more of a hero than her. If anything, it made that issue worse.

There Kiwi was, reaching out to her, being all kind and understanding and heroic, in that wonderful people-oriented way they have. If Audrey had accepted their speech, accepted that Kiwi has helped her, she’d already be accepting that they’re the better hero, before even getting into the part where they’re the one who can really save the world. She simply couldn’t bring herself to let any of that be true.

And Kiwi couldn’t actually address this half of the issue in their speech, because they didn’t even know about it. Why would they? There’s no way they would ever conceive of the idea that someone as cool and talented as Audrey could ever think that an ordinary, unimportant little bard like them was actually an even better hero than her. That never even crossed their mind for their whole adventure. So of course they didn’t bring it up while trying to help her.

But still, even if Kiwi had been aware of that and talked about that too… would it have helped? Or would Audrey hearing that from the person she’s jealous of have just rubbed everything in and made it worse? – look at just how perfect and heroic and humble that damn bard is that they can even recognise and forgive and try to help her with this. Perhaps it was a lost cause from the beginning, simply because the only person who’d ever have tried to reach out to Audrey and help her was the very root of the problem.

Or maybe it wasn’t? Things might have turned out differently if Audrey had happened to have a chance to properly talk with Kiwi earlier, in a different context where they weren’t enemies. Kiwi could have talked her out of ending the world before she’d had all that time to build up her insistent justifications that she simply has to. And more importantly, she’d have had more time to come to see Kiwi as a friend who cares about her and wants to help her feel like a real hero, rather than just someone who’s infuriatingly effortlessly better than her at everything she wants to be. (Just like Miriam came to do!) Maybe with that, her jealousy wouldn’t have mattered so much.

Audrey’s fate

The other big question is: where is Audrey now? She’s nowhere to be seen in the credits.

One option is that she’s still here, just lying low somewhere and no longer drawing attention to herself. One kid in Xiatian, who assumes Audrey’s the one who saved the world, comments that she must have wanted to live like a normal person and admires how humble that is of her. And, well, maybe he’s right. Maybe Audrey not being around any more is a sign that she’s finally learned humility, and she’s not going to try and take undeserved credit for saving the world when that wasn’t actually her doing.

But, really? I’m not sure I believe she’d be able to do that. She killed the Dream King in the first place, without letting Kiwi get the last Earthsong piece, because she still adamantly refused to let Kiwi take the spotlight from her no matter what. Those were absolutely the actions of somebody who’d then try to take the credit for saving the world when she didn’t deserve it. Everyone would have believed her, too! Nobody except Audrey, Kiwi and Miriam knew that the Hero’s job wasn’t actually to save the world.

If there was ever a moment for Audrey to learn humility and accept that the fate of the world is more important than her ego, it would have been that moment when Kiwi reached out to her. Nothing that happened afterwards seems like it would have been enough to change her mind, given that absolutely everything beforehand hadn’t managed to do it.

So, the other option as to what happened to Audrey instead? She’s gone. She didn’t make it into the new universe. She was the one person who didn’t join in with the Wandersong, and therefore the new world that was being created didn’t have her in it.

Consider the moment the world ended from Audrey’s perspective. She kills the Dream King and watches everything fall apart and tells herself she’s won. She’s beaten that silly little not-so-heroic bard. Everything’s been building up to this; in a twisted, desperately-justified way, this is meant to be her moment of glory. But then out of nowhere, she hears a voice, singing, soon joined by hundreds of other voices singing along. It’s that bard again, saving the world anyway, even though she was supposed to have just made it literally impossible for them to do that. They’re being the real hero of the hour after all, despite everything. Not her.

I think it’s very within Audrey’s character to have refused to join in the Wandersong out of bitter, jealous spite, despite knowing full well that she was throwing away her only chance to make it through this alive.

I read an account from the game devs saying that they originally tried putting in a scene with Audrey ambiguously falling to her probable death as everything crumbles after she kills the Dream King. But then they decided to leave it out, because even aside from the fact that it was kinda unclear what was happening, it felt too much like Audrey was being punished for her actions. I pretty much agree with that call; doing something like that would make it feel like Audrey was being punished because she killed the Dream King. That’s rather unfair when that’s literally what she was supposed to do in the first place.

Her real problem wasn’t that she killed the last Overseer in itself, but that she did so without giving Kiwi a chance to complete the Earthsong and save the world. So it feels more narratively appropriate that, if Audrey did in fact end up dooming herself out of existence, she did so as a direct result of her utter refusal to accept that somebody else could ever be more of a hero than her.

#wandersong #audrey redheart #the bard #eyala #character analysis #ramble #when your hero issues prevent you from actually being a hero

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feather-dancer · 4 years ago

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I had a rather horrifying realisation that I’ve not posted/updated any fic since June (Auuuugh I feel terrible) despite I have been writing the majority of the time with the more erratic exception of when Art Fight was on plus keep writing meta posts relating to Douxie of late. I figured I owed a round up of how things are going at this point or at least how progress has been this past month:

Masks we wear, Lies we Share aka Strickler fic - On hold / No progress

Ghosts he left behind aka Ghost!AU - 15 pages and counting, I can’t accurately judge where I am chapter wise in how close I am to the middle of it other than the bit I’m writing right now is the skimmed version of the oneshot that covers the night between Night 1 and Day 2. The chapter conclusion has shifted again meaning the Angor encounter will move (Alas) but on the flipside chapter 4 will start when Night 2 officially goes hurtling off the damn rails and won’t stop. The hints of what happened are starting to stack up :)

Things unsaid aka Nomura and Strickler oneshot - On hold / No progress

A Collection of Daises - Tumblr prompts - aka Prompt #2 - 5 pages now and realisation has just hit poor Walter, he’s getting frantic but in a bid for normalcy that the “problem” can be easily fixed he’s gonna be in for a fun surprise when he finds otherwise. It’s slow going because of getting the right vibe is incredibly tricky and I keep going back for edits to correct the flow better. It’s getting there! Making him leave the damn apartment will finally help things move forward but the wrongness needs the proper chance to stew as it’ll greatly affect his mindset for the rest of the run. By irony the ending is already in.

You weren’t there aka Douxie oneshot - I KEEP BEING DISTRACTED WRITING THIS THING IT’S SO FUN it’s like writing on my Douxie blog with more of a focus. Just over 4 pages right now partly because of flow edit fixes, I keep slipping Zouxie references in because I have no damn shame and at the time of writing the stage has just been finished ready for kick out time bar finishing touches so the Eternal Night is soon coming boys! I just need to double check all the quakes so Archie’s comments and Douxie complaining about it is canon accurate as I THINK I missed one. This is the downside with Ghost!AU being a day behind I sometimes mix up which fic has had them and when lol Even more important given this is the same verse so Jim is [REDACTED] at this point in time...

#writing #Ghost!AU

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brigadeleadxr · 4 years ago

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@smijon asked: 💋 / HUHUHU

Send 💋 for a kiss? haha just kidding...unless? | ACCEPTING !

❝ HEY ! YOU BETTER OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME—” She shouts over the pounding of her fists. It’s answered only by cackling. UNBELIEVABLE ! OUTMANEUVERED by Tsuruya ! Haruhi sits down in a huff, legs crossed, in the dark. “ I really thought that was gonna go the other way...” Tsuruya was SERIOUSLY starting to interfere with phase 23 of operation: ETERNAL SPRING LOVE, otherwise known as her matchmaking supergenius plans for Itsuki and Mikuru. With the party getting rowdy, and all of their promises of swearing off alcohol forgotten, it should’ve been EASY to get those two in the closet ! So how did she end up in here with—

“ Whatever you’re thinking over there KYON, you better stop thinking it RIGHT NOW.” She GLARES at him. If he can’t see it, he’d certainly be able to feel it. She tries to shift a little, but there’s obviously not a lot of available space IN A LOCKED CLOSET. She can even feel the heat off his body. Her cheeks flush. from the alcohol. obviously. Whatever. They could easily wait this out right?

......

She could not wait this out. The more time that passed, the more it became clear that Tsuruya was actually going to make good on her promise to keep them here all night if she had to. Despicable. But......strangely admirable; that’s exactly what Haruhi would’ve done with Mikuru. She sits up from amongst the jackets. There was nothing she hated more than just doing NOTHING.

“Look....what if we just, got it over with.”

HE DIDN’T HAVE TO LOOK SO HORRIFIED. SHE SCOWLS.

Anyone who was outside the door would hear the ERUPTION of drunken bickering. It goes on for a while...

“Haruhi, I’m NOT doing that ! Can you just listen to me ?? Are you even hearing yourself right now ?? ”

“ What’s your PROBLEM !? It’s not gonna mean anything !! I’m TIRED of waitin’ around in here, just KISS me alrea —”

“ NO, NOT LIKE THIS ! ”

Haruhi goes quiet.

Kyon goes quiet.

A downright evil, IMMENSELY smug, smirk crawls onto her lips. “..........What’s that supposed to mean...? ”

Kyon does not say another word.

"...Idiot.” ( Though, she’s smiling ) Her mood improved on an exponential scale. “I just got another idea anyways. Gimme your phone.” She smacks his hand, and takes it before he can offer it.

[ txt: Yuki Nagato ► Yuki, it is I, Kyon, I stupidly locked myself in a closet downstairs. could you please come let me, Kyon, out. You may need to distract Tsuruya........

....

Yuki did free them eventually, with Haruhi stomping out and aggressively stating that nothing happened in there and Kyon shuffling out after, quietly thanking their savior. Like it or not, they had missed the rest of the party. Everyone was probably having the best sleep of their lives considering the number of empty bottles lying around.

And as they stand in front of their bedroom doors, Kyon is the first to break the silence.

“....Abou—”

“’Tsuruya really set us back for phase 23.” Haruhi interrupts, arms crossed tightly, “ I expect three, no FIVE new ideas from you by morning.” She looks away, “So, you oughta erase anything else that’ll distract you. ”

“Right.” A half smile, “Well, goodnight, Haruhi.”

“Yeah...”

He barely turns away when a hand catches his wrist. A stagger back, the man suddenly pulled down by the neck of his shirt. And—she kisses him. Lips pressed against his, leaning into him. Her fingers curling at his shirt; other hand on his cheek.

It seems almost too soon when she breaks away and says,

“ But, I’d mean something like that. ❞

#SORRY it got LONG #me: complicated math equations trying to figure out how they'd kiss without the threat of the world ending motivating them #smijon #*♔( interaction ) saving the world by overloading it with fun #*♔( ask ) what gives you the right

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decandantfics · 5 years ago

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I Need You

A/N – This story went in a very different direction to what I originally intended to write when one of the plot ideas first came to mind. No disrespect is intended towards either Ant or Dec or those involved in these events. It is obviously a fictional story based on true events. I sincerely hope my story doesn't offend anyone.

Everything happened in slow motion. The black-and-red Mini careened around a corner at high speed, crossing over into the opposite lane and crashing nearly head-on into an oncoming car, before swerving again due to the impact and smashing head first into a parked car. The Mini finally came to a stop with an ear-shattering crash as the entire front end of the car was crushed by the impact. An eerie silence followed the melee, as multiple bystanders were shocked into stillness by what they'd just witnessed. Finally, one of them pulled out their phone and dialed 999, speaking urgently into their mobile as they gave the location of the accident and detailed the number of cars involved. It wasn't looking good for the occupant(s) of the black-and-red Mini, they said – there appeared to be at least two occupants in the car, and neither one of them was moving. The occupants of the other two cars were slowly emerging, seeming dazed and shaken, but otherwise okay. Seemingly an eternity later, emergency services arrived on the scene, mostly crowding around the completely pulverized black-and-red Mini while a few paramedics checked over the others involved in the crash. As a short, brown-haired bystander drew closer to the scene in curiousity, a shout was heard from one of the first responders: "We have a pulse on the female passenger! Let's get her out!" Meanwhile, the flurry of activity that had been concentrated on accessing the driver's side of the car, which had been completely mangled in the collision, suddenly slowed. As the bystander drew ever closer, ignoring the warnings from emergency responders to stay away from the area, a quiet statement was heard as access to the driver of the vehicle was secured. "The male is deceased. Get the gurney." Horrified by those words, the nosy pedestrian stilled for a moment before deciding to move even closer as curiousity got the better of them. Now basically in the way of the first responders as they worked to extract the driver from the vehicle, the person watched on in silence as the morbid rescue mission played out in front of them. As the first responders finally managed to extract the deceased man from the car, the bystander gasped. No, no, it couldn't be!!! No, please no, not him, he can't be dead! The emergency responders whirled around in surprise as they heard a loud, heartbroken wail sound from behind them as they placed the deceased man on the gurney and covered him with a sheet....

~~~

Ali slept peacefully on her side in the small hours of the morning, comfortably nestled in a cocoon of blankets. It had been a long, exhausting day, and with a baby on the way, nothing was going to stop her from getting the rest she – and her growing little one – needed. She had had a horrible time convincing her husband to come to bed with her when she eventually crawled under the covers just after midnight; he had had a very rough day, and was utterly distraught. She knew he needed rest, but she could see in his haunted eyes that he didn't actually want to sleep. He was still waiting to hear an update on the horrific event that had happened earlier that day, and didn't want to go to sleep until he knew what was going on. In the end, though, Ali worked her charm and managed to convince him to slide under the covers and at least try to get some shut-eye. "Turn your phone volume down a bit and leave it on – you can even put it on your pillow if you like, but just please try to get some rest, love," she had pleaded with him. Caving to her gentle request, Dec had placed the phone next to him on the bedside table – within easy reach in case of a call or text coming in. Closing his eyes, a strangled sigh forced its way out of him, at which his wife reached over to him under the covers and squeezed his hand, soothingly stroking it with her thumb until her breaths evened out and she fell into a deep sleep. On the other side of the bed, her husband did not have such an easy time of falling asleep. In fact, he didn't expect to sleep a wink tonight, at least not until he got an update on his friend, and even then it was doubtful. His mind raced in circles, never really reaching its destination – his thoughts too jumbled to be made sense of in his overwrought state.

It had been nearly 8 hours since he'd received a call from his "second mother," Christine, informing him that she and her son – his best friend of 29 years – had been involved in a car accident. Those words had sucked the air straight out of his lungs, causing him to sit down abruptly on a kitchen chair as fear for his friend gripped him. It was a good thing that chair had been there, because the next shaky words that left her mouth would have knocked him clean to the ground: "Ant's failed a breathalyzer test, the police have arrested him and are taking him in for questioning." A very far away voice – was that his voice? – could be heard choking out a horrified, "WHAT?!?"

In some ways, the numbness that came with the shock Christine's words had instilled in him was a blessing. In the background of the call, Dec picked out a familiar, terrified, but almost sort of belligerent voice. Hearing that voice was what broke him, but the explosion of pain was lost on his paralyzed senses. This was actually real, it wasn't some bizarre hallucination or a bad dream...Right? Dec pinched himself, hoping desperately that he would wake up and find that it had been a nightmare brought on by too much stress and too little sleep. No such luck. He still didn't recognize the sound of his own voice as he urgently questioned Christine: "Are either of you hurt?" Upon hearing her reassurance that they were both physically okay – very shaken up and a bit bruised and battered, but otherwise uninjured, Dec felt the tightness in his chest dissipate a tiny bit, allowing him to draw in much-needed oxygen. His mouth seemed unable to form words as his mind shut down in stubborn protest. He was dimly aware of Christine asking him if he was okay, but he couldn't answer. Her concerned voice drifted in one ear and out the other, he was unable to focus on anything. She finally gave up at trying to get a response and ended the call with a promise to let him know as soon as she had an update on the situation.

Ali bustled into the kitchen cheerfully, chattering brightly to Rocky, who followed at her heels attentively, hoping her journey to the kitchen might result in a tasty treat for him. He stopped short, though, puzzled by the energy emanating from his master, who seemed to have turned into a statue, seemingly unable to see him even as he clawed at his pant legs and barked worriedly at him. Rocky's odd behavior caused Ali to pivot on her heel, only then becoming aware of her husband's presence at the kitchen table. Her blood ran cold as she saw his facial expression. His face was completely blank, eyes unseeing and ears unhearing, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance even as she urgently tried to get his attention. He seemed frozen in place – paralyzed, even – and Ali had never been more terrified. It went without saying that something terrible had happened to precipitate his current stupor, but what? There were really only two things that could place Dec in such a state – a tragedy in his family or....Oh, no, not Ant. Noticing his mobile phone gripped tightly in his right hand, Ali stepped up to him and gently but firmly pried it out of his grasp. Quickly unlocking it, she noted that the most recently used app was the phone. With shivering fingers, Ali tapped on Dec's call history, unsure as to what she would find. Her heart stopped for a moment when she saw Christine Woodhall's contact listed as the most recent call. Oh, goodness, it was Ant!

Dec was still completely unresponsive, and Ali was terrified out of her wits now, fearing the worst. Rocky was still barking at his master frantically, teeth pulling at his sweatpants with all his might in between barks. Ali couldn't believe what she was doing as she drew her hand back and slapped her husband's cheek hard in desperation. A red mark formed on Dec's cheek where she had hit him, and she winced inwardly. But the smarting of his skin seemed to have had the desired effect, as her husband's eyes slowly focused and he became aware of his surroundings. Wide eyes turned towards her as his hand rose to his aching cheek, but his facial expression remained blank. "Declan, love, what's happened? You're scaring me," Ali said gently, reaching a hand out towards her partner, lightly touching his shoulder. Still no response. But he apparently had regained his sense of hearing, as his eyes met hers again. Deciding the best course of action would be to make him a hot cup of tea and try to move him somewhere more comfortable – his lower back had been bothering him lately, and sitting in their kitchen chairs exacerbated the problem – she let him be for a few moments. As she filled the kettle and clicked it on, she heard him take in a long, shuddering breath, and then silence reigned once more. Rocky was now sitting quietly at his master's feet, big puppy eyes staring up at him in confusion as he tilted his head first one way and then another – if the whole situation hadn't been so strange and terrifying, Ali would have laughed at how adorable their little pup looked right now. But this most definitely wasn't a time for laughter.

Focusing once again on the task at hand, Ali moved around the table to her husband's side, sliding her hands onto his soft jumper and placing them underneath his arms while lifting slightly – motioning with her head for him to stand up. As if in a daze, Dec rose from his seat, only to nearly collapse back into it again as his legs gave way. Holding him firmly, worry and panic seized Ali as she just barely managed to keep them both upright. Carefully guiding him into the lounge, she pushed him down onto the plush sofa before hurrying back to the kitchen as the kettle began to boil. Placing the steaming mug of tea into her husband's pliant fingers, Ali sank down next to him and softly ordered him to drink the hot liquid, resigned to waiting for an explanation until the shock began to wear off a bit. Shivers ran through his body as he impassively regarded the tea in his mug, taking small sips every few seconds like an automaton. Concerned, Ali lifted the warm blanket off the back of the sofa and wrapped it snugly around Dec, realizing that his skin was ice cold. Some time later, Dec had drained all of the tea from his cup, and a slight tinge of pink had returned to his previously colorless cheeks, even though he was still perched woodenly on the edge of the sofa, frozen in limbo by the protective numbing of his mind.

Ali decided it was safe to try to reach him again, as she removed the mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table. Wrapping her arms around his chest from behind, she pulled him into a soft embrace and held him there. Tenderly placing a kiss on his cheek where the mark of her blow was still visible, Ali whispered softly, "Please tell me what's happened. You're scaring me." Dec's eyes finally met hers again, and this time, there was recognition in them. Lucidity gradually returned, but with it came a storm Ali could never have quite predicted. Before her very eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirled inside Dec's irises: fear, horror, grief, despair, pain, and then an indescribable fury that made Ali's breath catch in her chest as she shrunk away from his wild gaze.

OK, that was definitely not what she was expecting. Anger? What on earth had happened?! But then the rage in his eyes faded, and was replaced by what Ali could only describe as heartbroken devastation. Dec's eyes filled with tears, and he began to weep bitterly, hiding his face in Ali's neck as his sobs increased in volume and intensity. Several minutes of tense silence followed his breakdown.

"Ant's been arrested for drink-driving."

Ali's heart stopped. His words had been so quietly spoken that she had to replay them in her mind a couple of times before she could be sure of what he'd said. And even then, a hushed, "What did you say?" passed by her lips, needing to make sure she'd heard him correctly.

"Christine called me. Ant crashed his car and was arrested. He failed the breathalyzer."

There was a definite edge of anger to his tone now, and his eyes flashed dangerously again, the tension in his body increasing by the second. A moment later, though, he dissolved into tears yet again, sobbing brokenly:

"Ant would never do that, Ali, he would never! It has to be a mistake, please tell me this isn't happening. Please, please, please....!"

His words became lost in the fervor of his grief, the room silent except for his choked sobs and labored breaths as he began to hyperventilate, his mental anguish blinding him to everything but the stabbing pain in his heart as reality sunk in with horrifying gravity. Realizing Dec was slipping into a panic attack, Ali acted quickly, trying to remember what she had seen Ant do on the one occasion in the distant past when she had been witness to one of Dec's rare panics. Nothing worked to snap him out of his hysteria, so she resigned herself to waiting it out with him, pulling him to her chest and calmingly stroking his hair while placing loving kisses on his forehead.

It was several minutes later when Dec managed to break himself out of his panicked state. But pained silence now replaced his previously frenzied state. One look at his broken, disbelieving expression told Ali that speaking was not an option right now. He just simply needed someone – anyone – to be there with him. As quiet settled over the room – Rocky had decided it was now safe to join his master and mistress on the sofa, curling up on Dec's lap and nudging his hand with his nose, trying to help his distressed friend in his own small way – Ali began to process what had happened. This changed everything. Having been a celebrity talent manager for many years now, she knew exactly what this would do to her boys' career. Ant and Dec might be over, this might be the end of the line. It was far too early to tell, but the consequences of Ant's actions – assuming this wasn't actually a mistake – were unimaginable. Actually, no, with her vast experience as a manager she could imagine the consequences, but she preferred to pretend that she couldn't.

Her heart broke for her husband and his best friend. She knew Dec had been worried about Ant for months now, and had confided in her just a few short weeks ago that he was concerned that the latest series of Saturday Night Takeaway would prove too much for Ant. Ant and Dec's job was highly pressurized – they were such consummate, experienced professionals that they made it look easy to the viewers at home – but they worked incredibly hard and held a lot of responsibility on their shoulders as ITV's most prized possessions. And with the pain Ant was suffering privately as he went through a very public and messy divorce, and the constant scrutiny from the press, Dec had good reason to be concerned. Her husband was very sensitive when it came to emotions, and he knew Ant wasn't being entirely truthful whenever Dec asked him how he was doing. She realized Dec would probably be blaming himself for Ant's breakdown sooner rather than later, berating himself for not having done more to prevent his friend's downfall. Her husband was going to need her more than ever before.

The couple eventually separated, Ali pressing a kiss to Dec's head as she stood and headed towards her home office. She knew her phone was probably ringing off the hook, and even though she wasn't officially the boys' manager anymore, she was going to throw herself wholeheartedly into trying to help them sort this mess out. Closing the door behind her, she steeled herself for the onslaught to come as soon as she unlocked her phone. Sure enough, 25 missed calls and multiple messages and emails faced her. Sighing, Ali set to work, hoping desperately that there was still a way to save Ant and Dec from destruction....

The rest of the day passed by at different speeds for the two human occupants of the Donnelly residence. Rocky had effectively velcroed himself to Dec's side, licking away his salty tears when he cried and persistently nudging at his hand with his nose until Dec started petting him again when he got lost in a black train of thought. Ali was overwhelmed with work as the news broke to the world that Ant McPartlin of Ant and Dec had been arrested on suspicion of driving under the influence of alcohol. She ventured out of her office from time to time to check on Dec, finding him in almost the same slumped position on the sofa every time. She had tried to break into his dark train of thought a couple of times, but after he viciously snapped at her once – telling her he just wanted to be alone – she decided to leave him be. He refused any semblance of dinner, his face alternating between a dark storm cloud of rage and the visage of a broken man as he dared himself to venture online and read what Ali told him was one of the more trustworthy reports of what had happened today. Heartbreak eventually won out as the most prominent of his emotions when he saw the photos of Ant, only replaced by a look of horror when he noted the extent of damage to the cars involved in the collision. Tears of relief dripped down his features as he thanked God that Ant, Christine, and everyone else involved had been kept safe from harm. Ali eventually had to pry the laptop out of his hands when he continually read and re-read the article, shaking his head disbelievingly and muttering to himself unintelligibly. It was obvious he still couldn't believe what had happened, still had a shred of hope deep down inside that this was all a terrible mistake and his best friend's name would be cleared of any wrongdoing...She had known this would be hard, but she didn't think it would be this hard.

The man she had known for nigh on 20 years now had disappeared. The person in front of her was a shell of himself, the mischievous spark gone out of his eyes, his normally animated features clouded over by misery. It broke her heart to see him like this, especially as he had been oh-so-happy for weeks now after he and Ali had discovered that, after years of fruitless trying, they were expecting a child. In a rare moment of letting her emotions rule her, Ali cursed the universe for having ruined what should be the happiest time of their lives. There was no knowing how Dec would cope in the long run if he and Ant lost their career, or, worse still, lost each other. Deep down, she knew their love for each other was unconditional, but this was the toughest ever test of their relationship. She shuddered to think what would happen if their friendship was unable to survive this unexpected blow.

~~~

Shooting upright in bed, Dec gasped painfully for air as his throat closed and pain filled his being. Saliva pooled in his mouth as an image from his dream burned unrelentingly into his retinas. Ant. Dead. Bolting off of the mattress with a pained sob, he dashed into the en suite, just barely getting there in time before retches racked his body. There was nothing in his stomach – all he brought up was bile and stomach acid which burned at his throat. Sobs shook his small frame as he leaned back against the bathroom tiles. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Ant.

Wait. That had been a dream, right? His overtired mind played tricks on him, causing him to doubt himself. Mindful of Ali – hopefully – still asleep in their bed, Dec tried to control his ragged breathing as he crept back into the bedroom and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand, noting the time. He had lain awake for over 2 hours, just waiting, waiting for word to come that Ant had been released from the police station, but none had come. He must have fallen asleep for maybe a quarter of an hour, as it was now just after 2:30am.

He battled with himself for a few brief moments before opening his text messages. His thumb hovered over Ant's name before resolutely tapping it, opening their message thread. Unable to help himself, the lingering terror of his dream still hovering in his mind, he typed out a short message and quickly sent it before he could chicken out and change his mind: "Are you okay? I need you."

He lost track of how long he sat in darkness, his sad gaze fixed on the black, unchanging screen of his phone. A sudden buzz and flash of light broke him out of his silent reverie, two words simultaneously breaking his heart and causing him to breathe a sigh of relief: "I'm sorry."

Hurriedly tiptoeing out of the bedroom and locking himself away in his office, he hit "Call." He wasn't going to keep him long, he told himself, he just needed to hear his voice, make sure he was okay. It took a few rings for Ant to pick up, but when he did, Dec barely recognized the sorrowful, broken voice that answered the phone. His heart shattered yet again as he heard Ant's stuttering breaths crackling through the line. It was obvious he was crying. He wanted nothing more than to go 'round to Ant's and protect him from everything he was facing, but he knew Ali would kill him if he did that. There would be paparazzi outside both their homes by now, he was sure of it, and rushing over to Ant's in the middle of the night – dressed in his PJs – would make the tabloids' day.

Dec had known as soon as Ant answered the phone that it was all true, he had driven drunk, it wasn't a mistake. He felt strangely calm now that he knew the truth, all anger temporarily washed away by concern for the broken man on the other end of the line. Softly, Dec started, "It's okay, Ant, I still love you," before continuing, "Please, please promise me you won't do anything stupid. I need you, I can't live without you, man. Don't think I'm not angry, 'cause I am, I'm bloody furious, but I can promise you that we'll get through this, you and me together." His voice faltered as his love for Ant nearly overwhelmed him, "I want you to know that, no matter what happens, you're never going to be on your own out there. I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I love you. Please promise me you'll never leave me." His voice quivered with emotion as he pleaded with his one true friend, the man who had stood by his side through thick and thin for 29 years. He could hear Ant's breathy sobs on the other end of the line, but he knew he'd gotten his point across. He didn't really expect to get a coherent reply from Ant right now, but he stayed on the line, unwilling to leave his friend alone in his time of need. Minutes dragged past in silence as both men listened to the other's ragged breathing as they fought with their emotions. At long last, Ant's voice crackled through the line, merely a whisper. "I promise, Dec. I love you, too." And with that, the line went dead, leaving Dec with a raging sea of emotions that he couldn't control. But of all the waves of emotion that were crashing through his mind relentlessly, the strongest were love for, and a fierce protectiveness of, the man who had promised to never leave him alone in this cruel, cruel world. And as long as he was alive on this earth, he would never give up on Ant, he would never stop loving him or caring for him. No matter what this life threw at them, they had made a vow all those years ago to always be there for each other, and that was a vow Dec would keep to his dying day. I promise you, Ant, we'll get through this. Together.

#ant and dec #ant mcpartlin #declan donnelly #ali astall #fiction #decandantfics

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Blitz/Rook oneshot in which Blitz is, uh, kinda dressed like this. For Halloween. Not that this excuses anything. (Rating M, humour/some sexy times, ~2.6k words) - written for @magehir 💕 and also in response to the leaked Blitz elite skin!

“I would just like to reiterate that it was your idea to use Monika’s prototype to heat up our sandwiches and that -” Blitz is interrupted by yet another smack to his ass from a stranger passing by. His cheeks are hurting at this point and he missed the point where he should’ve just sat down because now it’d be pure agony whereas staying upright invariably ends with more pain. He banked on their British colleagues being both more polite and prudish to actually make use of the slightly smudged writing on his lower back but it seems his hope was completely and utterly in vain. “In short, all of this is your fucking fault and if I get the chance to take revenge -”

“Loosen up and live a little, you dry sponge”, Bandit shoots back, entirely unimpressed with his fury, and deliberately makes eye contact with a bloke trying to squeeze past while simultaneously getting an eyeful of the two of them. “You can touch, but it costs extra, my dude.”

“I can offer a screwdriver right from the bar”, the guy replies and causes Bandit’s face to lighten up and Blitz’ to darken at the same time.

“Don’t give him more to drink”, Blitz pleads but is interrupted by his teammate: “Honey, for a screwdriver I’ll shove my tongue so far down your throat I’ll tickle your vocal cords.”

Normally, Halloween is Blitz’ favourite holiday. He enjoys the thrill of watching scary films, even likes picking out realistic and horrifying costumes and has developed a few rituals over the years. However, this year, all of the previously sacred components which as a whole make up a successful Halloween for him had to be scrapped all because of one of Bandit’s clever ideas. They ended up trashing IQ’s current project, unsurprisingly, and incurred the wrath of a woman who takes a lot of pride in her work and who’s usually able to control her temper. Usually.

Not this time.

The result is a curse on all who are forced to witness it, a plague on earth, an abomination which never should’ve seen the light of day, an unholy trifecta and a trinity of sacrilege. In order to make it up to IQ, they agreed on what at the time sounded like a very simple premise: she was to decide their Halloween costume for the party Rainbow would attend together with the SAS operators stationed at Hereford. Blitz should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy as soon as IQ agreed a little too readily, but back then he was too relieved to get out of the situation with all limbs intact to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Mistake. Because now he’s not only clad in the skimpiest outfit he’s ever worn in his entire life, no, it’s also an amalgamation of tulle and lace and frills and whatever any of this is called; it’s pink and exposes both his abs and half of his back, barely reaches over his ass and is topped off with intricately laced up knee-high boots sporting dangerously high heels. The objectively worst parts about all of this are twofold though: one concerns the large letters on his back written in permanent marker and spelling out Spank here with arrows pointing downwards, the other one…

Well. Never in his life has he ever felt the urge to watch Bandit make out sloppily with a nondescript Brit while wearing the sluttiest maid outfit Blitz has encountered so far but it seems that’s just what his entire career has lead to. To this moment. To yet another hand reaching out and copping a feel of his backside and him not being able to turn around fast enough to punch whoever did it in the face because he’d probably eat shit instead. Bandit rocks his pumps like a pro while Blitz attempts to move as little as possible. His feet are already killing him.

“I’m gonna throw up any second now”, he informs Bandit as soon as he’s done snogging a stranger and has started drinking the screwdriver. “Why don’t you just pick someone and disappear with them for a bit so I don’t have to watch you reapply your fucking lipstick every other minute?”

“What are you talking about?” Bandit sets his drink down on the counter next to them to whip out his small mirror to check on the state of the garishly red paint on his mouth. “I already fucked three of them. And one dude only let me blow him to get to you, just so you know.”

Okay. Alright. That is it. He’s reached maximum capacity for this evening concerning a lot of things, one of them being all the information Bandit so willingly shares when he’s past drunk – he’s already grating when sober but like this he’s positively insufferable. He’s enjoying the persona his costume enables way too much for Blitz’ taste, has posed for photos, flirts aggressively with literally everyone who doesn’t run away immediately and looked creepily enthusiastic when Jäger wrote the cursed invitation all of them bear on his back. Jäger himself, displaying a similarly short nurse outfit, has been hanging out with other Rainbow ops and is therefore mostly safe from the kind of attention lavished on Blitz – it’s not like he has anyone to hide with, however: Sledge is catching up with old friends and probably wouldn’t appreciate any interference from the porn version of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, IQ would gloat to an uncomfortable extent and he has the vague feeling Mute would mock him relentlessly.

“I’m leaving”, he announces despite not knowing where he’s going, only knowing he needs to go somewhere else. Somewhere where Bandit isn’t.

“You’re so ungrateful, do you even know that?” This makes him stop in his tracks and frown at his amused friend. “Here I am, valiantly protecting your virtue by redirecting all those perverts’ attention to me, and how am I repaid? With disdain! Oh the humanity.”

Oddly enough, Bandit’s vocabulary increases proportionally to his ego whenever he drinks. “You tried to trade me for a shot of whisky earlier”, he replies drily before turning away for good. He swears he hears Bandit sadly mutter and it almost worked as he walks away.

The size of the party is a problem, however, and Blitz soon finds himself surrounded by people he doesn’t know, some of whom gladly endorse the message on his back whereas others manage to rope him into a conversation under the guise of wanting to be friendly. The illusion is shattered quickly when one of them asks whether he’d be up for a foursome, prompting him to keep drifting through the crowd in mild horror. Bandit has told him before that he looks almost laughably attractive (a fact Bandit still hasn’t forgiven him somehow) but he never really believed it until now. Until he’s suddenly aware of all the looks he’s getting.

“Elias!” He turns around at the mention of his name and comes face to face with a vaguely stunned Rook, probably also drunk and filled to the brim with bad ideas. “I’ve, uh, been searching for you all over. There’s something wrong with Glaz, I need your help.”

Instantly, he sobers up as if he just slept for several hours. “Lead the way.” He barely takes note of Rook’s costume which is comprised of little more than an admittedly adorable dragon onesie and doesn’t even object when the Frenchman grabs his hand tightly and drags him away. He must seem serious enough for no one to drop a remark about his outfit on the way for which he’s eternally grateful, but when Rook suddenly pulls him aside into one of the smaller men’s bathrooms, suspicion befalls him. Especially since the room is otherwise empty. And even more when Rook locks the door behind them with a deep breath.

“Glaz is fine”, he bursts out before Blitz can even say anything, “so don’t worry. But you seemed like someone who needed saving.”

Oh. He supposes Rook isn’t incorrect in that observation though it’s a little embarrassing it was this apparently this obvious. “Yeah. I kinda did.” Here, away from prying eyes and wandering hands, away from the stuffy air and the slightly suffocating presence of the crowd, he can finally breathe freely and feel a little less self-conscious about his clothes. Or the lack thereof, really. “Thank you.”

The heartfelt words are met with a timid smile accompanied by a manic stare Blitz noticed before but accredited to Rook being concerned about Glaz. This… seems to not be the case, though for some reason the young man is attempting to stare a hole into his head. “No problem. I just – I have so much respect for you and everything you do and so seeing you getting groped like that is really upsetting. You’re so much more than just a pretty face, even if it’s an extremely pretty face, but, uh, them reducing you to no more than a body to ogle at is -”, he bites his lip for a second, steadfastly refusing to break the now almost uncomfortable eye contact, “well, I’m not trying to say that it’d be a bad thing in itself if you wanted to be ogled at, but you didn’t seem like you wanted -” He trails off and Blitz realises he hasn’t blinked once since they entered the men’s. Tears are starting to form in Rook’s eyes and if he’s honest, there is some hilarity in this.

“You know, I won’t think less of you if you look, Julien”, he states gently and witnesses all the tension in Rook’s shoulder disappear at once.

“Thank fucking Christ”, he breathes and adds an even quieter holy shit as his gaze swoops to take Blitz’ costume in. Unlike some other expressions Blitz has taken note of throughout the evening, Rook’s speaks of helpless, desperate admiration and is actually quite flattering. Not only because he obviously likes Blitz as a person anyway, but also because he makes no move to touch or even comment.

In fact, his hopeless amazement is so pure that Blitz can’t help but tease him a little. “Dom really went overboard with this. He claimed Monika required us to shave everywhere but I somehow doubt it.”

Watching Rook choke on nothing is oddly satisfying. This time when his eyes travel all over Blitz’ body, it’s almost as if he can feel it like a concentrated ray of sun, kissing all his exposed (and indeed shaved) skin with a tingling warmth which lingers much longer than it should. Somehow, he doesn’t mind it coming from Rook, even welcomes the attention – Rook’s costume definitely plays into it as he looks utterly endearing, but also the strange intimacy of it, the fact they’re alone and Rook isn’t doing it to play along or crack a joke to someone amplifies the pleasant feel. It’s real, that much he knows.

“To be honest, I have no idea what’s supposed to be so sexy about men in skirts”, he continues and is about to add that seeing Bandit in one might have put him off the idea for at least a few decades, yet Rook won’t even let him finish his sentence before he chimes in, cheeks bright red.

“I can tell you: you’re fucking gorgeous already and this – this only makes it better. You might not get it, but fucking hell, I want to unlace your stupid ugly boots with my teeth.”

Oh.

Blitz’ brows rise simultaneously to Rook’s eyes widening in shock and there are a few seconds during which neither of them move a muscle. It’s definitely one of the tamest propositions Blitz has received all evening and yet it’s decidedly more forthright than all (okay, no, probably just most) of them combined because it’s meant so painfully seriously his mind immediately supplies him with the appropriate mental image. He suspected Rook to be interested in him before and this is the unambiguous proof yet where he’d normally not even consider the Frenchman (alright, another lie, he likes Rook and he likes him a lot), right now he’s… thinking about it.

And thinking right now means picturing him on his knees in front of Blitz and surely, it has to have something to do with the blasted outfit which apparently turns men into horny sluts because he literally can’t think of anything more enticing at that moment. No matter the fucking heels or the odd, cool feeling on his legs and in his crotch or his sore ass, all he can think of is giving in to Rook – who just then starts scrambling to explain himself.

“I’m so sorry, I have no idea where that came from, that’s not what I meant to say at all, I, uh, you look fantastic but you always do, but if you don’t feel comfortable wearing this you of course should take it off – I mean, not right now obviously, but you could go home to change and I’d even come along to help – fuck – I don’t mean like that, I mean I could make sure no one molests you on the way kinda like I’m doing oh God -”

And his pitiful speech dies with a high-pitched noise just as Blitz grabs one of the horns on Rook’s hood to pull him in and smash their lips together.

It says a lot that Rook doesn’t even seem to consider stopping when the door bursts open. Despite it having been locked, the mechanism was too flimsy to really hold against any type of weight – and some large dude reminding Blitz of Montagne slamming Bandit against it quite clearly counts as weight. “Oh fuck, it’s occupied”, Bandit mumbles against an insistent tongue and everything about the whole situation would turn Blitz off immediately if only Rook wasn’t so bloody good at this. His eyes only slide over to the sudden intrusion once, then they go back to gazing up at Blitz lovingly, longingly and with such devotion he still can’t breathe. The young man looks at him like he might literally faint should he actually be allowed to taste Blitz’ come, and not only that, his cheeks hollow out with every bob of his head, one hand is kneading Blitz’ thigh and the other playing with his (now remarkably hairless) balls and dear Lord how can anyone be this earth-shatteringly good at blow jobs?

So yes, even though Bandit and his fourth Montagne substitute saw him in a princess outfit getting sucked with abandon by an adorable purple dragon, he can’t find the energy to care, not when Rook keeps moaning around his shaft like this. It’s by far the hottest thing he’s ever experienced and not even Bandit can rain on this parade.

Even if he seems intent to do just that. “Hey, congrats, baguette, you finally did it”, he calls while herding his newest victim out of the room again, “and don’t forget – you owe me for this!”

And Blitz suddenly remembers how IQ said she’d decide on their punishment later, remembers how he saw Bandit and her together shortly before she announced her final judgement, and how much Rook seemed to look forward to Halloween despite usually not caring about it – but before he can finish the thought, Rook swallows him whole for the first time and rips a groan from his throat which makes the Frenchman’s eyelashes flutter.

He can think about this later, he decides and pushes a hand under soft fabric to bury it in Rook’s hair.

#rainbow six siege #blitz #rook #blitz/rook #fanfic #oneshot #bandit is the maybe not so secret hero in this #also this is pretty much how I picture their friendship #I wrote this in two hours so yay me

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years ago

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Survey #162

“in catholic school, vicious as roman rule, i got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black, and i held my tongue as she told me, ‘son, fear is the heart of love,’ so i never went back.”

Has a rainy day ever ruined your plans? I'm guessing at some point. Do you think you could survive a month of solitary confinement? HAHAHAHA NO I'd lose my fucking mind. What is something that you find utterly boring? TV in most cases. It's honestly really difficult for me to get into shows and be consistently entertained by them. What noise/sound can put you to sleep? Rain. When you are upset, do you tend to shut others out? It depends. Sometimes I seek comfort in others, other times I isolate. When was the last time you felt abandoned by someone? Recently. Does the sight of blood gross you out? Nope. Do you like red roses, or do you prefer another color? No preference, really. What is something you like to eat that is red? Strawberries. Have you ever gone through a red light? No. Do you fail to stop for stop signs, sometimes? No. When was the last time you were near the ocean? A couple months ago. What is your favorite eye color in the opposite sex? Bright blue. During which year of your life were you the most unhappy? 2016 was born of Satan himself. Have you ever seen a bluejay in person? Yeah, but now they give me a somewhat uncomfortable vibe, all the while thinking they're beautiful. Jason's nickname was "J Bird" by his father, and I collected feathers when I found them outside. Have you ever consumed a blue-colored drink? Mountain Dew Voltage is actually holy water. Is there anything you recycle, or should recycle? Ugh, we did recycle cans, but don't now. Mom got tired of going to do it. However, we do keep plastic bags for cleaning up a mess the dogs might make, and I also use it when changing Roman's litter. Do you like leaves better in the summer/spring, or in the fall? Is ANYONE going to answer with other than fall??? What is your favorite aspect of life? Just. Experiencing it, experiencing the emotions, feeling alive and real and valid even with how incredibly fleeting we are in the eternal universe. I really can't stand nihilism. Like make a DIFFERENCE, because enough of those change the world. When was the last time you were purposely amongst nature? Not since going out on that walk like... forever ago. I can't do this heat, but here, I don't really. Have anywhere to go. What do you think of global warming & the greenhouse effect? If you don't believe in them, honestly, just don't talk to me. Do you typically like green-colored candies? Yessss, apple-flavored. <3 Who is the most energetic and happy person you know of? Hmmm, that I personally know? I'm not sure. Who makes you smile the most often? Sara and Mark can do it at a snap of the finger. Magicians. How do you express your happiness? I become very vocally affectionate and obsessively express love for others, care more than ever at cheering others up, and I smile, laugh, and talk more. Has someone helped you out in a big way, recently? I don't know about /big/ way recently. Do you like to sing? I think I'm starting to??? I don't like my voice, but. It feels good to do. Where is somewhere that holds fond memories for you? This fishing spot deep in the woods that Dad and I would go to a lot to catch mostly striper. I loved that it was in the core of nature. Sometimes I would just stop fishing to explore. Do you like to watch the setting/rising sun? Always when I get the opportunity. Do you know of anyone who is going down the wrong track? Shit, most people I know. Most people I was friends with. Have you ever encountered a black widow? I believe so? Pretty positive at least once. They're so pretty to me, buuut not touchin'. What scares you, more than anything else? Losing those that mean most to me. I fear them leaving me in life by choice more than them dying, possibly. If there was no afterlife, could you handle it? Uh, I have to???? I wouldn't be aware of anything????? When in life did you feel the most care-free? Obviously as a child. Are you well-hydrated? Do you like water? Technically, no. I drink about two bottles a day I'd say, but that's not actually enough. I'm not a big fan of water, but. I do it for my health. Has an animal ever peed on you? Lol Venus did once when she was chilling on me for a long time, and some rodents I've had probably have. What would make a cool substitute color for the sun? Let her be p i n k. Which do you prefer: purple or pink? Can you guess??? What is your favorite color of the sunset/sunrise? *screams in pink* Is purple a good color for a car? Yaaaas. Do you prefer green or purple/red grapes? Purple. The green ones usually aren't firm enough for my taste. What color is your birthstone? Purple. Do you prefer hardly toasted at all or burnt toast? Barely toasted. Do you prefer guitar or piano music? Guitar if it's electric, but otherwise usually piano. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? I don't believe so. Have you ever wished you’d been born someplace else? Yup. I'd far rather prefer to have not been born here. Have you ever had, or wanted, a pet ferret? Wanted. What’s a habit you find gross? Smoking. What’s the worst tattoo you’ve ever seen? This girl got her boyfriend's name a c r o s s h e r f a c e. What’s your favorite name ever? Alessandra. Think of how you used to be 3 years ago: how do you feel about who you were back then? Depressed as fuck. What’s the strangest fortune you’ve ever gotten from a fortune cookie? None come to mind. Do people ever force you to eat? Biiiitch you ain't gotta force me lmao. Is there a TV show you’ve wanted to start watching but never gotten around to? When I actually watched TV, uh... I'm not sure. When’s the last time you felt pressured to do something you didn’t really want to do? Not sure. Who was the last person to mess with your feelings? Mini. When was the last time you were in denial about something? What about? Boy, so many "I dunno"-type answers lol. I'm not really one for denial. Is there any certain style of architecture you really enjoy? GOTHIC. What was the last thing you gave up on? Colleen. 110% done with her ass. How easy is it for you to talk to someone else about your feelings? IT'S HARD. If you watch Parks and Recreation, who is your favorite character? Don't watch. Do you like watching documentaries? About animals, yes. What’s the last DIY project you did, if any? If you can’t remember, what’s something you’d be interested in doing? I've never done one. I suppose I'd like some Halloween ones I've seen. When’s the last time you had a problem that nobody could help you with? Recently. Friendship stuff. Do you have any siblings you absolutely despise? Why do you despise them? No. How many times a week do you shower? Is this a healthy thing for you? Four, usually. It's good for me. How many times a day do you eat a full meal? Is this a healthy thing to you? Like... maybe only once. Or none. What’s your favorite movie? Why do you like this movie so much? The Lion King. Who doesn't love it??? What’s your favorite genre of movies? Why is this? Horror. They just give me adrenaline, and I think about what if that actually happened. How many times a day do you say I love you? Who to usually? Always before bed to Sara. Sometimes multiple times a day to her. Always to Mom if she's leaving to go somewhere for a while. Do you prefer hoodies or jackets? Why do you prefer this choice? Hoodies. Just more comfy to me. Have you ever contemplated suicide before? Ever attempted it before? Contemplated a million times. Attempted once. Do knives scare you? Is it from watching scary movies? Yes, and no. They have horrifying potential to cause serious pain and warrant torture. Then I was running to slit my throat the night of the breakup, but Mom had to physically stop me, so I'm just. Uncomfortable around them. What would you consider to be the worst television channel out there? MTV. Have you ever had anyone drop off animals at your house and what kind? No. Do you remember when some of the Walmarts had a McDonald’s in them? Both the two in my area still do. When was the last time you were stung by a bee and what kind was it? Early spring, maybe? It was a bumblebee. Do you know anyone personally who had their house burn down before? Yes. Do you think the media can further manipulate our teenagers anymore? HAHAHAHA IT'LL NEVER END. Have you ever had someone sympathetically lie to make you feel better? Probably. Do you know anyone who has their septum pierced and does it look painful? Yes, and for me personally, yes, because I have thick cartilage. Has anyone ever kissed you in the rain and did it seem romantic at the time? Yeah, and I guess. When was the last time you listened to a genre of you music you despise? A couple days ago in the car. "IDFC" by Blackbear came on and I love that song okay. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? No. Does your ex still think about you? Probably not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? Sara. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? More like literally all night with a few pauses. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Have you ever been to an auto show? When I was very young because our family friend invited us to one. I was too young to stay home alone. Do you know anyone who still doesn’t have a smart phone? Maybe. Have you ever been on a cruise? No. Have you ever had an x-ray? Yes. What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? Honey ham, but I can't eat it anymore. What letter does your surname begin with? "D." Did you have a New Years kiss this year? No. Do you prefer to eat carrots raw or cooked? I hate carrots so much. What was the first video game you remember playing? Spyro. What is your favorite flavor of Skittles? Red. Have you ever met a famous political figure? No. What’s your go-to website when you’re really bored? I guess Facebook if it's been some hours since I looked. What is your favorite chocolate bar? The Reeses one made of little rectangles. But if you mean like, a *traditional* bar, Milky Way. What is your least favorite Sour Patch Kids color? Orange. Have you ever seen the movie Matilda? Yesss, adore it. Are you allergic to nuts or diary products? No. Do you have trust issues? "Pistanthrophobia: fear of trusting people due to past experience and relationships gone wrong." Do you think age matters in relationships? In romantic ones, yes it does if one is a juvenile. I can't find anything morally wrong with adults and big gaps, but they creep me out regardless. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Have you ever had your nails so long that they curved down at the ends?  Omg no. Do you always wear flip flops no matter what the weather is? Is this??????? A direct attack????????? Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty feet? No, but it'd creep me the fuck out. If you don’t have one already, would you consider getting an iPhone? I want one. Who would you consider your favorite stand-up comedian? Living, not sure. Actually, probably Gabriel Iglesias. Would you say you’re too experienced or too inexperienced for your age? The latter. What is your favorite neon color? Ever buy nail polish that color? Pink. I don't paint my nails. Has anyone ever mistaken you to be a member of the opposite sex? No. Would you ever consider yourself over-dramatic? Not usually, but I can be. How often do you text people? Who do you text the most? Everyday, and Sara. What would you consider your second choice as a dream career? I really don't know. Both my dream jobs aren't obtainable for me, but uh. I guess something involving art. What is the longest amount of time you’ve played video games consecutively? Ha, definitely when a new WoW expansion came out. Can't remember if I played WoD or Legion longer in one go. Do you ever use cheats when you play video games? The kind that makes shit easier, no. Aesthetic changes, sure. Does your family go 'all out’ during the holidays? No. What’s your favorite kind of lunch meat to put on a sandwich? Ham, when I ate meat. When will you next see the person you love or are in love with? OCTOBER 3RD. Do you have anything that’s limited edition?  Maybe? How well can you handle vulgar things (i.e. gore, disturbing images, etc)?  I have a pretty high tolerance. But not so much at like disgusting medical issues. Would you marry someone if they were unable to have sex? I'm most likely marrying a girl. And I'm a girl, so. Who was the last male you hung out with? My dad! Who is your favorite person to text? Sara. She texts just like she talks, so I actually have interesting and more "real" conversations with her. What’s one nickname your family calls you? Just "Britt," really. Has anyone ever mistaken you for being gay/lesbian/bi? I had a therapist once who thought I was gay in middle school, so before I realized I was bi. Explain why you last threw up? A medicine I was on REALLY didn't like me. Ever kissed your best friend's significant other? That would be me. :'D But if you don't count Sara, no. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? Nooope. Would you ever want to ride in a canoe? I'd love to!!! Gay marriage: love is love or a horrible stand against God? Fuck any "loving" god who thinks consensual, sincere love is evil. Honestly. I will never be able to fathom how I was once against it. Do people tell you that you have an accent? No. Have you ever had an eating disorder? No. Do you prefer road trips or traveling on an airplane? Road triiiips! Do you enjoy tanning? Not at all. Have you ever seen The Breakfast Club and what’s your opinion of it? I didn't get the hype at all. Have you ever touched a dead body? Dead pets. Which of the seven deadly sins do you commit the most? Sloth. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Yes. Demonic creatures. What part of your body are you self-conscious about? Everything???? But my stomach more than anything. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Have you ever been drunk at school or work? Nah. Have you finished school yet? I'm resuming college in January. What is your favorite kind of fruit juice? Mango and peach. Have you ever used a muscle stimulator before? Did it hurt? No. Have you ever done anything dangerous enough to have risked your life? Overdosing. Other things that we don't really think about too, like driving. Do you consider yourself egotistical? Do people call you egotistical? Not at all. I don't think anyone has? What gives you anxiety? So much, but I'll try to list those I can think of. Socializing (especially with those I don't know well), deciding the appropriate amount of eye contact when talking, making phone calls, driving, public speaking, being beside 18-wheelers, talking about things I'm really really passionate about, asking for things, awkward silences, answering the door for anyone (like when pizza is delivered and such), most men making even the slightest move that could be seen as flirting, and the list goes on and on. Could you ever be a medical guinea pig? Fuck that. Whats your favorite letter of the alphabet? "Z," maybe. Or "x." Whats your favorite Disney movie? TLK. "Finding Nemo" is right behind it. Have you ever handled a snake? Plenty of times. Could you ever be a living organ donor? For my mom, Dad, Sara, or my sisters, yes. Mom only has one kidney so I'd give up one of mine in a heartbeat if the last one was going. Have you ever contemplated suing someone? No. Have you ever drawn on a sleeping or inebriated person? No. Is it acceptable or unacceptable to smack a child as form of discipline? Fuck no. What’s your favorite way to dress? I feel most like myself in a gothic or metalhead look. What movie/game/etc. helps you calm down? My best bet of calming down via media is watch Mark. Probably go to old favorites. No movie is guaranteed to help me. Playing Silent Hill can soothe me, though. Ironically. Primarily the second. I think its the subtle ambiance and the steady footsteps that just relax me a bit. BUT SH2 also has my favorite soundtrack, so the actual music in it just does it for me. Do you believe in auras? I think I might? The concept is very interesting and some people really are talented at picking up the vibes of others. Animals are especially talented at that. What instrument do you wish you could master? Guitar. What do you put on hotdogs? When I ate them, ketchup and mustard. Do you have an unpopular opinion? What is it? Guacamole is fucking disgusting. Have you ever legitimately saved a person's life? No. What's your favorite book genre? Tbh, if I was to start reading again, I almost feel like it'd be something like teen/young adult romance???? Or fantasy, idk. Actually why not both. Do dogs like you? No joke, I've never had a dog be wary of me for more than a minute or so when first meeting me, rarely even that. Even when I go to others' houses and they have a usually uncertain dog, it's always pointed out that it's strange how (s)he takes to me so quickly.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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eddycurrents · 6 years ago

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For the week of 17 September 2018

Quick Bits:

Amazing Spider-Man Annual #1 gives us an “untold tale” of Spider-Man shortly after Secret Wars while he still had the black costume from Saladin Ahmed, Gerry Brown, Lee Loughridge, and Joe Caramagna. It’s a nice bit of embellishment, giving us a look more at the reactions from the people around Peter and what the Venom symbiote was doing while he slept. The dark, moody art from Brown and Loughridge is perfect for this.

| Published by Marvel

Avengers #8 is a bit of a housekeeping issue from Jason Aaron, taking stock of what’s changed for this new incarnation of the team, putting together the status of the various members, and setting up the new status quo. It’s nice to see David Marquez and Justin Ponsor aboard for this arc, continuing the very high bar this volume is setting for art.

| Published by Marvel

Black Hammer: Age of Doom #5 answers all of the questions, with Jeff Lemire and Dean Ormston filling in all of the details in Lucy’s quest to find the missing heroes. It’s an interesting, and satisfying, revelation that sets up an even bigger picture and possible looming threat.

| Published by Dark Horse

Bloodborne #5 begins a new arc, returning to the city, and focusing on a scientific and religious inquiry into the nature of the affliction besetting the world. Wonderful art from Piotr Kowalski and Brad Simpson.

| Published by Titan

Burnouts #1 isn’t a bad start from Dennis Culver, Geoffo, Dave Dwonch, and Lauren Perry, riffing on the teen alien invasion vibe of things like The Faculty. The premise of needing to be high or otherwise intoxicated to see the true threat is an interesting one, leaving an obvious out as to whether or not it’s real, but this issue largely takes it at face value.

| Published by Image

Captain America Annual #1 is very well done. Tini Howard, Chris Sprouse, Ron Lim, Karl Story, Walden Wong, Scott Hanna, Jesus Aburtov, Erick Arciniega, Israel Silva, and Joe Caramagna give us a story set deep into World War 2 of Cap and Bucky behind German lines, helping a group of civilians who escaped from Stutthof.

| Published by Marvel

Death or Glory #5 sets fire to Glory’s life quite literally. This entire series so far has been damned good, moving at a breakneck pace pushing the characters harder and further with each subsequent issue. Rick Remender, Bengal, and Rus Wooton continue to deliver.

| Published by Image / Giant Generator

Dick Tracy: Dead or Alive #1 is a curious thing, embracing the odd stylistic choices of Chester Gould’s characters with Rich Tommaso and Mike Allred’s art, and the kind of throwback tone of Lee & Mike Allred’s script, but through the use of a cellphone it doesn’t seem to be a period piece. Still, it’s an entertaining beginning to this mini.

| Published by IDW

Ether: The Copper Golems #5 is the bittersweet end to this mini, setting up a new problem for Boone and co. to face in the third series, but in doing so putting him in an even more tragic situation, both in the present and in the flashback back-up. Matt Kindt & David Rubín have bottled magic with this series and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

| Published by Dark Horse

GI Joe: A Real American Hero - Silent Option #1 begins a new limited series following Bombstrike and her team’s investigation of the missing Helix. It’s a bit bloodier and more brutal than the mothership series, but given the subject of human trafficking, it’s kind of understandable. Larry Hama, Netho Diaz, Alisson Rodrigues, Jagdish Kumar, Vinicius Townsend, and Neil Uyetake put together a decent start here. There’s also a great back-up filling us in on Helix’s past from Ryan Ferrier & Kenneth Loh.

| Published by IDW

Hack/Slash: Resurrection #11 is the conclusion to the “Return to Haverhill” arc and it continues with the usual offbeat humour that Tini Howard has brought to the title. Mixing the horror with wacky hijinks.

| Published by Image

Ice Cream Man #7 might be one of the more horrifying issues of the series, telling the tale of a young girl coming to terms with the death of her best friend. That story alone is enough to pick up the issue, but it also brings back more of the ongoing story of the Ice Cream Man’s trials as well, giving us a bit more interconnectivity of what are otherwise mostly standalone tales.

| Published by Image

Immortal Hulk #6 sees Al Ewing working to put the disparate pieces of the run so far together, along with revealing at least one group of antagonists dogging Banner’s heels, and working Hulk back into the broader world of the Marvel Universe to deal with the ramifications that have been hovering since Civil War 2. Surprisingly, none of it is particularly confusing, which is a testament to how Ewing is laying this out. Also, really nice guest art from Lee Garbett (with colours from Paul Mounts).

| Published by Marvel

Impossible Incorporated #1 is a new all ages mini from JM DeMatteis and Mike Cavallaro. I have fond memories of their previous collaboration The Life & Times of Savior 28, so came into this with some fairly high expectations. They were exceeded. The premise for this series taps into the same family of adventurers dynamic of the Fantastic Four and Challengers of the Unknown, and it yields some interesting characters, weird landscapes, and phenomenal art.

| Published by IDW

Infinity Wars: Soldier Supreme #1 is the first of these Infinity Warps tie-in minis to the overarching Infinity Wars saga, blending together two of Marvel’s heroes in this new reality. In this case, Captain America and Doctor Strange. I’m not sure how much impact these will ultimately have on the event, but it’s a fun diversion. Gerry Duggan, Adam Kubert, Matthew Wilson, and Clayton Cowles deliver an entertaining beginning to this story, laying out Stephen Rogers’ origin and showcasing a number of other amalgamated heroes and a rather interesting villain. Kubert and Wilson’s art is definitely more than worth the price of admission.

| Published by Marvel

The Life of Captain Marvel #3 delivers more heartfelt and strange complications for Carol Danvers. I’m really enjoying the drama that Margaret Stohl is creating in this series, it’s really been injecting a real element of humanity in Carol that’s been missing for years.

| Published by Marvel

Mr. & Mrs. X #3 gives us an explanation for the egg that everybody and their bird-brained aunt are fighting over. This development is definitely very interesting for the cosmic side of things.

| Published by Marvel

Olivia Twist #1 is an updating of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist, gender-bent and worked into the future, by Darin Strauss, Adam Dalva, Emma Vieceli, Lee Loughridge, and Sal Cipriano. The premise works quite well adapted to a dystopian future, with the protections of society broken down and oppression at an all time high. Although this is set in a future Britain, it’s easy to see similar conditions in America today. What really brings the book together is the artwork from Vieceli and Loughridge.

| Published by Dark Horse / Berger Books

Patience! Conviction! Revenge! #1 is the beginning to what looks to be another beautiful sci-fi epic, starting out with a bit of a western feel, before moving on to the city. I quite like the voice that Patrick Kindlon gives to the protagonist, Renny, as he doesn’t seem to shut up. Also, the artwork from Marco Ferrari and Patrizia Comino is wonderful. Ferrari has a style that reminds me of Sean Gordon Murphy and Devmalya Pramanik and it perfectly suits a lived-in future.

| Published by AfterShock

Return of Wolverine #1 is not a terrible comic. In fact the artwork from Steve McNiven, Jay Leisten, and Laura Martin is very, very good. McNiven seems to be channelling Barry Windsor-Smith for the artwork and it’s perfect. The action and page compositions are wonderful. I can also say that the story, dialogue and such, from Charles Soule is not bad. I’m not sure if I like the implied idea of pulling Wolverine’s history from him, putting the memory genie back in the bottle when we already know his Origin, is a good idea, but his issues with Persephone and Soteira are at least interesting.

What ruins this comic, however, like the Hunt for Wolverine: Dead Ends issue, is that it renders the entire Hunt for Wolverine event superfluous. It doesn’t respect the readers’ time or money, showing that Hunt for Wolverine didn’t build to anything. There’s absolutely nothing in this comic that necessitates having read anything before it. That’s good for new readers, but it’s a crappy ploy from Marvel that manufactured an empty event that seems like its sole purpose was to bilk the customer. I feel terrible saying that, since for the most part the mini-series weren’t bad in isolation, but as a whole, it just seems like a marketing stunt. When it comes to a character like Wolverine, who has previously been associated with the idea of market oversaturation, it’s just worse.

From Marvel Legacy through to now, it doesn’t feel like there’s been any guiding hand. It doesn’t feel like there’s been any coherence between any of the appearances. It just feels like Marvel turning to some of their worst tendencies in making this past year or so a marketing ploy, tarnishing something that possibly could have been special, and ruining the return of Wolverine. Wolverine’s still dead, Marvel’s just pimping a corpse.

| Published by Marvel

Seven to Eternity #11 checks in on Adam’s family at the farm while he’s hanging around with the Mud King. Like every issue, beautiful, stunning artwork from Jerome Opeña and Matt Hollingsworth, somehow outdoing themselves with the brilliant colour schemes and impressive character designs. Also, I love the biting, almost subtle, humour that Rick Remender employs for the Mud King’s dialogue.

| Published by Image / Giant Generator

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #86 begins the Earth Protection Force’s assault on Burnow Island, the new home to the Triceratons and Utroms. The action depicted by a returning Dave Wachter (with colours by Ronda Pattison) is very nice, even as we get some interesting moral and ethical hemming and hawing from both the Turtles and Burnow’s defenders as they choose whether or not to release their war criminals to help fight against the EPF. This feels like the beginning of something very heavy.

| Published by IDW

Thor #5 resumes the King Thor story from the first issue, in the far-flung future, with a reunion between Thor and Logan. It’s not quite as bonkers a story from Jason Aaron as the opening Niffleheim arc, but it’s certainly up there. I almost get the impression that Aaron and Donny Cates are seeing how far they push the cosmic envelope at Marvel right now, between their respective series. In any event, it’s led to some great storytelling. Especially when you add guest artist Christian Ward, who just makes this a must buy.

| Published by Marvel

Venom #6 is a not-so-subtle reminder that the art team of Ryan Stegman, JP Mayer, Frank Martin, and Clayton Cowles are absolute beasts. Every issue of this series has been impeccably crafted so far and I swear that this one ups the ante. Gorgeous work from the team.

| Published by Marvel

West Coast Avengers #2 is more ridiculous fun. If you liked the first issue, this is more of that, with some even more over-the-top shenanigans with the team, as they try to get to the bottom of BRODOK. Kelly Thompson’s dialogue and humour here are a highlight, reminding me of some of best of Keith Giffen and JM DeMatteis’ work on the bwahaha era of the Justice League. A book that doesn’t take itself too seriously is a nice balm these days. Also, gorgeous artwork again from Stefano Caselli and Tríona Farrell.

| Published by Marvel

Other Highlights: Amazing Spider-Man: Renew Your Vows #23, Aphrodite V #3, Black Badge #2, Bonehead #4, Britannia: Lost Eagles of Rome #3, By Night #4, Coda #5, Coyotes #6, Crude #6, Curse Words #16, Days of Hate #8, Doctor Strange #5, DuckTales #12, Edge of Spider-Geddon #3, Encounter #6, Evolution #10, Flavor #6, Hit-Girl #8, Infinity 8 #6, Jeepers Creepers #5, John Wick #3, Kick-Ass #7, Lost City Explorers #4, Luke Cage #2, Lumberjanes #54, Mae #9, Mata Hari #5, Multiple Man #4, Quantum & Woody #10, Rick & Morty Presents Sleepy Gary #1, Robots vs. Princesses #2, Rumble #7, Secret Agent Deadpool #2, Shadowman #7, Star Wars #54, Star Wars: Lando - Double or Nothing #5, Stellar #4, Strangers in Paradise XXV #6, Summit #9, Superb #13, Sword of Ages #5, Usagi Yojimbo: The Hidden #6, Vagrant Queen #4, Venom: First Host #4, Witchfinder: Gates of Heaven #5

Recommended Collections: Beowulf, Cable - Volume 3: Past Fears, Coda - Volume 1, Cold War - Volume 1, Descender - Volume 6: War Machine, The Mighty Thor - Volume 4: War Thor, Ninjak vs. the Valiant Universe, Skybourne, Spider-Gwen - Volume 6: Life of Gwen Stacy, Venom - Volume 4: Nativity

d. emerson eddy enjoys doing stuff some times. And things other times. Stuff and things.

#This Week in Comics

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