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myfavouritelunatic · 1 year

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The Blacksmith

Many thanks once more to all who have read so far! It is appreciated more than you know! ❤️

Will our intrepid hero make it to the harbour in time?

Of course she will. Enjoy!

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Brief violence.

Links to Chapter One, Two, and Three.

Chapter Four

You made your way through the streets of Armenelos, which was easier than you had anticipated, as most of the citizens had gathered along the main paths for the parade of the soldiers. What you would give to see your king upon his horse, dressed in the finest Numenorian armour, making his way out of the city. You smiled to yourself knowing that despite missing this, you had made the choice to see much more of him, whether it was the right one or not. A pang of sadness struck you suddenly then as you realised Halbrand left before goodbyes could be said. You were no longer going to be on the docks to see him off. You had to be successful in your task at hand, there was no failure, there was no other outcome.

Steeling yourself, you moved on faster, reaching the harbour as your breath ran short. You saw final supplies being loaded onto one of the ships, crates bearing the sigil of the crown. That had to be the ship Halbrand would be sailing on. Trying to remain inconspicuous somehow, you wandered over to the people stowing the supplies and offered your assistance. Remarkably, you were not turned away. "Just grab that and come with me." spoke a heavyset bearded man with a croaky voice. He barely looked at you as you picked up one of the smaller crates to carry onboard. However someone else noticed the massive grin that had spread across your face.

"What are you smiling about?" spoke the man, this one was younger and better sounding than the last. Better looking too. "It's just- it's such a glorious day for our people isn't it?" "Mmm hmm." was all he could muster in response. "Numenor shall be seen as the saviour of Middle Earth! And return a king thought lost to time. What's not to be happy about?" Your words rang true but they were not the reason for your joy of course. The man laughed at you in pure amusement. He stepped closer to you, his sack of horse feed draped over his right shoulder. He spoke the moment you were below deck. "The only reason I am here is because I am being paid handsomely for it. My crew built these ships, and we have readied them for launch. Who am I to stop my purpose from being fulfilled? Even if it is to answer the call of a filthy she-elf." "Excuse me sir-" "You heard me. You think we're of the faithful? Pull the other one. Elendil should have left old pointy ears and the low man in the Sundering Seas to drown."

You stood there in shock at his words, processing how he wished for your love to be dead. This would not stand. When you didn't respond, he huffed then laughed some more. "C'mon, there’s still more to come." He turned and headed back up the stairs, and you followed calmly, pulling a dagger from your sack. The same dagger Halbrand had used against your father two nights before. You had spied it in his chambers before you left, and you thought it couldn't hurt to keep it close. Well, it couldn't hurt you anyway.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you put your arm around the young man, and the two of you wandered across to the far side of the ship, where the view of the ocean was the most spectacular. "Perhaps you are right. I must be trying to tell myself these things in order to placate my fears. Suppose if something befalls the Queen Regent on her quest then things might start to change around here." you stated, lying through your teeth. "Now that’s the sentiment I want to hear. I think I judged you too quickly, lady." "Yes, I think you did." the words had barely left your lips as your blade entered his belly. You clasped your hand over his mouth to stifle his cries, and you twisted the dagger slowly within him. His tears stained your skin. "Death comes to all who wish for the death of the king." you spat at him venomously, yanking the blade out quickly. Before too much blood spilt upon the deck, you pushed his lifeless form into the sea and watched as it sank out of sight. Seeing a bucket of water nearby, you used it to flush what remained of his existence over the edge. Luckily, your clothes had remained untouched by the red liquid, your hands would soon be clean, and none would be the wiser.

Noise rose in the distance, and you turned to see the parade approaching the harbour. Now was the time to descend back below the deck and hide. Hopefully you wouldn't have to stay out of sight for too long, but you would do so for as long as it took. As you wandered back down those steps, the last steps that young man would ever tread, what you had just done finally hit you. You had taken the life of another. This was not something you had ever done before, nor thought you would do. Your imagination conjured images of the man with his family, his friends... maybe he had a wife? A child? You had stolen him from them. The only solace remained that they would never learn of his true fate.

However there was a part of you that felt justified in your actions. A part of you that relished having his blood on your hands. He spoke ill of your love, of the king! That in and of itself could be considered treason could it not? He wished that Halbrand had succumbed to the seas, and the Lady Galadriel along with him. It was an absolutely horrendous thought. How dare that man, he deserved to slip beneath the waves instead. You thought. How could he think that of these two beings who would help to save Middle Earth- wait... save Middle Earth... I have felt that notion before, but not in the way I mean it now... Your thoughts were cut short by feet up on deck, and you tucked yourself away as best you could, and as comfortable as you could given the long journey you were about to embark on. Then you heard words spoken that practically made you sing. "Welcome aboard, King Halbrand." You had been right, this was the ship he would ride across the Sundering Seas. And you were on it with him.

After a short while, the ships were finally released from their docks, and you were sailing out to sea. You decided to wait till nightfall to venture out and find food, it would be easiest then to sneak around without being discovered. You spent this time patiently waiting by filling your thoughts with everything you and your love had done last night. Halbrand was unlike any man you had ever known. Sure there had been others before him, but none came this close. The feelings, the sensations he dragged out of you... you didn't even know your body capable of such desire. You knew it would be days perhaps weeks before you would feel that way again, so you kept replaying the ecstasy in your mind and waited for the sun to set.

Once darkness fell, you readied yourself to emerge, praying you wouldn't be found and thrown overboard or locked in the brig. Assessing your surroundings, you noticed you were luckily still alone down in the cargo hold, so the search for food would be short lived. As would your time in hiding it seems. A beautiful yet disappointed voice called your name from the shadow across the hold. It was Galadriel. "Somehow I knew fate wouldn't keep you apart. My suspicions were confirmed as much when I didn't see you on the docks like you promised." "Let me explain-" "Oh you will explain. Everything. You are interfering with matters that are greater than you know. Greater than even I know, and I have known much during the ages."

You sighed in frustration at her tone. She was more upset with you than you had anticipated. "There is nothing left for me in Numenor, Galadriel. Nothing. My father made sure of that. So finally one good thing comes along in my life and... I cannot let it go. I refuse. I will die without it." "Without Halbrand?" she paused in disbelief at your words. "No. Without Halbrand by your side, he will help to secure safety and wellbeing for his people, like he is meant to do." She rose from her seat, striding towards you swiftly until your faces were inches from contact. She continued through gritted teeth, "The second his eyes wander from that... that is the second the enemy will strike. And strike hard they will. You believe you will die without Halbrand? It is he who will die with you." "My father was going to kill me, Galadriel." you croaked, tears spilling fast from your eyes. "So I mean it quite literally that I will die without him."

You rendered Galadriel speechless as your words sunk in. "If all Halbrand did the past few days was talk of me, then surely he mentioned this. Or were you too preoccupied with your grand design for him that you paid him no attention?" "He did mention your father, yes." she spoke, her harsh tone lessening. "I am alive because of Halbrand. He saved me. Just like he will save his people. I promise you, if I must, I will stay away from him until the fight is over. I understand what he needs to do, I know how great of a purpose it is. I am not a fool." "Only a fool in love, it seems." spoke Galadriel, who chuckled suddenly. "I do not wish for you to be here. It is too great a risk. However, we are too far from Numenor now to send you back, and we cannot delay." she sighed in defeat, and you smiled in your victory. "This does not mean I am allowing you to leave this hold." she continued, "You are now my responsibility. I will decide where you go and when. And most importantly, who you see." "Thank you, Galadriel. Truly. I am sorry to force your hand like this but it was necessary." She bowed her head in response. "Stay here, I will gather you some cooked food. And some ale."

After a few minutes she returned, two bowls and two flasks in arms. You spent the next hours listening, hanging on the she-elf's every word as she told you of the wonders of the world and the horrors of it as well. How she had spent the past millennia hunting down the very vile creature responsible for so much of it. The pain and determination crystal clear in her expression and voice as she regaled you. You suddenly began to realise that the longevity of the elves held with it much sorrow, for they would see people live and die, cities rise and fall, and they would lose greatly. Hearing Galadriel talk of her brother Finrod, and of her husband Celeborn, it broke your heart. Suddenly your selfishness crept its way into your mind and left you with a bitter taste. You had a chance at something Galadriel once knew and once lost. You wished somehow that you could give her that chance as well. And you hoped she would not harbour any resentment towards you or Halbrand as your love blossomed further.

"I'm going to see if there is any wine hidden on this ship. I cannot bear this ale any longer." she said, making you laugh. Your eyes followed her up the stairs and through the hatch, which she closed behind her. You wondered if this was the beginning of a new friendship, you both were getting along amicably. At least you hoped as much, as the alternative would not be as good given the fact she was Halbrand's closest companion. Plus you admired her so, and felt incredibly lucky to be in her presence. Galadriel was captivating, and just as remarkable as Halbrand had told you the night you met him.

Galadriel was taking longer than expected to return, you assumed it was likely due to her inability to locate any wine on this vessel. However she indeed finally came back, sans wine but with more ale and a third flask. This made your eyes light up. Surely not! She wouldn't! "I decided it was inevitable. Hopefully this will get most of the distracting out of the way." she spoke, moving away from the stairs to let the owner of the third flask down. Step by step he was revealed to you: King Halbrand in all his glory, his form covered in impressive burgundy tinted armour. The look on his face did not match this visage, for he was in pure shock at the sight of you. He spoke your name, barely above a whisper. "Are you really here... have I lost my mind...?" "That remains to be seen, Halbrand, but I can assure you, she is here." spoke Galadriel, without a hint of chagrin in her voice. You beamed at him, trying to find words. "You're here. You came." he spoke, still not believing it. "Yes. One cannot leave the side of their king, not in his greatest hour of need." Halbrand let out a cry of joy, almost a cheer, as he swept across the room to where you stood, capturing you in his arms once again. You nuzzled tightly into him, not wanting to let go, the smile never fading from your face. You caught the eye of Galadriel and mouthed two words: "Hantanyë tyen." She smiled warmly and bowed her head, accepting your thanks. "Forgive me, but I do believe it is time for me to retire." she said, heading back towards the stairs. "Oh just one drink, will you?” your love blurted loudly. “Our time together has thus far been nothing but chaos and contempt. Plus it seems only my lady is getting to see the fun side of you, and I can't allow that." Halbrand really enjoyed stirring Galadriel, his eyes becoming alight with mischief. "Stay! Please."

You sided with Halbrand, nodding. "Yes please, Galadriel, I want to hear more stories of Valinor and the years of the trees." She gave in reluctantly, but she did so all the same. "One drink. Then I will retire." Her decision to remain made the two of you cheer, and Galadriel rolled her eyes at you as she poured the next round. Halbrand looked down at you lovingly, leaning in until his lips met yours, and you had never been so thankful for a kiss in all your life.

Tagging: @starlady66 @restless-tides @chimeracuddles @mordorgp @king-halbrand @lordhalbrand @myrsinemezzo @helenvader @wanderleave @hikarielizabethbloom @anemarie @coraleethroughthelookingglass @denzit

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand/sauron x reader #halbrand #sauron #charlie vickers #the rings of power #trop #lord of the rings #lotr

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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The first match continues! How will our intrepid hero get out of this mess? (Spoilers, it’s ghosts.)

[No. 33 - Shinsou’s Situation]

Our first page here is actually another mock cover! Which I think might be a nod to some other comic book cover, though I would not be able to tell you which one.

Poor Izuku’s shirt, who knows where it might have gone. Boy’s gonna get a cold like that. And he’s standing on top of the rubble of a fallen apartment building I think? Just from the ladder and some of the brick-like debris. And the gloves and boots are definitely a different style from what we see Izuku wearing in canon.

Anyways, into the chapter proper. The crowd’s making a lot of noise as Izuku continues to stand there frozen, with Present Mic comments on that fact, along with how Izuku is looking confounded and not even twitching. He correctly identifies it as Shinsou’s quirk at play, though he frames it as a question because, you know, show business. Ochako and Tenya are confused and concerned, as is Toshinori.

Shinsou continues to stand there, menacingly, as Present Mic goes on about how they were barely aware that this guy existed, but now he’s sure one to keep an eye on! Aizawa brings up a pair of sheets, catching Mic’s attention, as he brings up how the entrance exam was completely irrational. The sheets have simple specs on the two, since they knew this would be a quirk versus quirk battle.

...wait, oh my god, but this WAS a quirk versus quirk, battle, though, just not in the way anyone was expecting! It was a mental control battle instead of a physical versus mental quirk battle! And was our first nod towards One For All having a powerful mental aspect, which becomes a major plot point like 250 chapters from now. I am just. Huh. Well then.

Continuing on with Aizawa’s commentary. Shinsou apparently failed the practical part of the exam, so he lost a spot in the hero course. He got into general studies, though, and that’s all he could have hoped for. His quirk is extraordinarily powerful, but, given the format of the practical exam, his ability didn’t help him out.

Down in the arena, Shinsou comments to Izuku about how it must be nice to have everything handed to him. He then commands Izuku to turn around and walk out of the ring. Izuku ends up doing so, and Present Mic comments on Izuku following orders like a good little boy - which means that the crowds (or at least the announcer booth) has to be able to hear what’s being said?

Uhm. (Looks at later matches) Either they have selective hearing, or the mics must have been destroyed during the Izuku-Shouto match before they could give away anything incriminating.

Anywho. We finally get info on Shinsou’s quirk, Brainwashing! Which is absolutely not what his quirk does, it’s more like puppeteering or hypnosis, where brainwashing is a longer-term conditioning process. Shinsou’s quirk, according to the narration here, makes anyone who verbally responds to him instantly brainwashed, and will do whatever he commands. However, the quirk won’t work if he doesn’t will it.

Huh, so I suppose that means written or signed responses don’t work, then. I’ve seen that in a fic or two. Though that then leads to the question about making noises that aren’t outright responses, like groaning or scoffs or whatever… eh, battle now, quirk thoughts later.

Up in the booth, Aizawa thinks about how, from the result of the strength tests, Izuku really shouldn’t have been placed in the hero course either. But Shinsou’s stats are even worse in any event where he couldn’t make use of his quirk. Izuku would come out on top in an ordinary battle, but now that he’s brainwashed, it’s a different story. This will be over quick…

Meanwhile, Toshinori is panicking over seeing Izuku about to walk out of the ring, a litany of ‘no’ escaping him as he mentally begs fo Izuku to stop walking. Izuku is also stressing out over his body not listening to him, as well as how fuzzy his head is. He’s trying to get himself to stop, and swearing when it’s not working. He’s especially mad at himself because Ojiro had even warned him about this ahead of time -

And as if to highlight this, we shift into a flashback where Izuku and Ojiro are talking. Izuku wonders how he can win against mind-control quirk. Ojiro replies that his loss could be Izuku’s gain. His memories cut out from the instant he replied to Shinsou, which is what he thinks is the trick.

Izuku is stressed out as he summarizes that it’s all over if he slips up and says anything to Shinsou. Ojiro disagrees, saying that it doesn’t seem like such an almighty ability. Remember how he said he didn’t remember anything until the end? When Shinsou had them run past to nab Tetsutetsu’s headband, he thinks he must have bumped into Tetsu’s formation - which was when he snapped out of it. He was suddenly aware of what was happening.

Izuku guesses that it had been undone by the physical contact, which Ojiro agrees with. That said, however, he has no idea how strong the contact needs to be. And in a one-on-one match, of course you can’t expect any outside help. (Cough) Anyways, that’s everything Ojiro can tell him. Izuku replies that no, it’s awesome, thanks! Ojiro asks for forgiveness if he’s out of line, but he wants Izuku to win this for him.

With that, we ome back to the present, Izuku getting awfully close to the line and his ringing himself out. Izuku thinks how it can’t end like this, over in a flash. Everyone’s done so much for him - he can’t lose here.

And something responds.

Eight pairs of eyes watch from shadowy faces, almost everything about the specters nondescript. Izuku has no idea what’s happening, even as they seem to linger at the fringes of his mind. One For All starts to flow under the skin of his left arm, with Izuku quickly realizing he can move his fingers, even just a twitch. Shinsou, ignorant of this, starts to talk about how Izuku wouldn’t think so, but Shinsou’s quirk is like a dream. Oh, right, and Izuku loses.

Izuku’s response?

He’s not out of it yet. Izuku heaves like he’s just breached the surface of a lake, his feet stopping right on the inside edge of the line. He then turns to stare at Shinsou in a very concerning way as Present Mic wonders at Izuku managing to stop.

You know, I have this particular face saved in my folder under ‘boss music starts playing’ AND ‘boss music intensifies’. I feel like that’s pretty appropriate.

Izuku’s fingers throb in pain, and apparently the cameras are able to zoom in enough for Aizawa to see it and realize what happened - Izuku smashed it up to shake off the brainwashing. Ojiro is in nervous awe at Izuku going that far. Shinsou himself is unnerved, asking how he did it, that he shouldn’t have control.

And here’s where we get to some interesting internal monologue from Izuku that I don’t think made it into the anime.

Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from replying, thinking about how the finger was all him, but something woke him up. What was that? Who were all those people in his mind? For that one second, his head was clear!

One For All, All Might had told him. It’s passed down like the Olympic torch. Izuku recalls those words, and wonders if those were people, and if that was a sign that he’s linked by this power to the past. Did they save him? Is that even possible? Izuku tries to shake it off, knowing that just thinking about it won’t give him any answers, and to save it for later. He needs to think about now.

[I will have thoughts about One For All at the end of this, but for now, let’s finish up the battle.]

Shinsou is pissed, thinking about how Izuku’s not answering him, wondering if he figured it out. But no, he probably knew from the start, that that ‘damn monkey’ told him. He just has to get him to open his mouth again. He mocks Izuku for having nothing to say for himself, but Izuku manages to press his lips together and say nothing as he shifts into a fighting stance.

Shinsou presses on, stating how he’s jealous, and how just moving that finger must mean Izuku’s the real deal. Thanks to his quirk’s nature, he couldn’t enter the golder gates. Izuku wouldn’t get that, since he’s naturally blessed. You people, born with your awesome quirks, getting to follow all of your dreams!

Izuku sweats as he pushes himself forward, internally noting that that’s how he used to think too. He does get it. But… right. He is blessed. He’s blessed by the people in his life! And that’s exactly why - that’s why he’s not going to lose!

Izuku throws himself forward, one hand grabbing Shinsou’s shoulder while the other slams itself into his stomach. Shinsou retaliates with a cross punch into Izuku’s face, demanding he say something. However, Izuku only turns back to stare at Shinsou, determination burning in his eyes as he begins shoving Shinsou back. Shinsou says that pushing him out isn’t gonna happen, right before he yanks himself out of the grip and doges around. Shinsou says he’ll give Izuku that honor instead as he smacks a hand into Izuku’s face and pushes him back.

(Also, interrupting the flow here, but Izuku is making noise without Shinsou able to take control, so it really does seem like it has to be a response and not just noise. Which makes sense!)

Izuku grabs Shinsou’s wrist and his shirt, and with one mighty heave, manages an over-the-shoulder throw that firmly slams Shinsou back-first into the ground - and just over the line.

I’m pretty sure this is the same move Izuku pulled on Katsuki during the Battle Trial, actually - at least, from that momentary reaction shot we get from Katsuki.

Midnight calls the match. Shinsou is gritting his teeth, and Izuku is straightening himself out as Midnight confirms that Izuku is moving on to the second round.

And with that, the chapter comes to a close. What a match. And now that I’m not breaking the flow, it’s time to go back to the ghost stuff and ramble on it a bit more.

Alright, so. One For All. First time we’re seeing the ‘haunted’ aspect of it - and honestly, it’s not far out of line with what we end up seeing it capable of later on. It comes off as a physical quirk, but One For All as a stockpile holds everything from the past holders - strength, quirks, memories, personalities. And because of that overwhelmingly spiritual lean to the stockpile, One For All is, in many ways, as much a mental quirk as Shinsou’s, if not more so. Arguably, it could count as the most mental quirk, and that ties back into something All Might mentions at the end of the Hosu arc - that One For All can’t be taken unwillingly.

I’ve seen criticism of this fight’s handling, and how One For All shouldn’t have been able to (or interested in) stopping Shinsou from taking the win. But it’s really not about Shinsou’s quirk itself - it’s about the mental control! The helplessness, the desperation from not one, but two living holders to overcome this and retake control from the person commandeering them.

One For All’s existence, it’s purpose, is to resist being taken by All For One. It is the collective will of nine people, all with a deep-seated will to resist control. So why wouldn’t One For All step in here, when Izuku needs to learn to fight against mental puppeteering? When the still-hazy spirits of the quirk must already have the sinking feeling that All For One isn’t as dead as hoped?

Can it really be a surprise that they stepped in?

I’ll probably make a longer post digging more into this after Kamino, but yeah. Honestly, this fight is a LOT more interesting in the manga than I recall from the anime, since we get a bit more of Izuku’s thought process and what’s happening with OFA.

To close us out, here’s some discord commentary on the match:

#chapter 33 #sports festival arc #readthrough #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #shinsou hitoshi #ojiro mashirao #yagi toshinori #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #one for all #quirk's haunted #QUIRK IS HAUNTED #whoo boy do I really like this scene so much #especialyl izuku cottoning on right away to what's happening #even if the details elude him for a while

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acklesforlife · 3 years

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Happy Birthday Danneel Ackles!

It’s Danneel Ackles’ birthday, so we thought for our continuing celebration of Supernatural Spring Break week, this was a good time to both wish her a happy birthday and share the rather amusing story of one of our first times meeting her.

There have been a few memorable times since, including the party celebrating ‘Supernatural Day’ in Austin with Mayor Adler, which was just plain fun and an opportunity for some real conversation.

And I’ll be forever touched that Danneel wanted a copy of Family Don’t End With Blood (and how incredulous she was that Jensen actually had a chapter in it!) and that she has read our other books too.

The actual first time we met Danneel was a long time ago – at the after party following the premiere of indie movie Ten Inch Hero, which was at a club in LA back in, I think 2008. We all left the premiere and walked over to the club, invited by director David Mackay – the cast and the audience all together.

We had a lovely little chat with Danneel there about the film, met screenwriter Betsy Morris who’s still a friend today, and asked actor Matt Barr (now of Walker) to watch the rest room door while I in desperation used the men’s room because there was a huge line at the women’s. (He was lovely about it and it makes me laugh now every time I see him as Hoyt).

It was a momentous party, what can I say? After that, my co-author Kathy and I interviewed David over a three hour brunch in Vancouver for the first book we were working on, and mentioned that we’d love to chat with Danneel too. To be honest, we didn’t really think that would happen. But a few months later, while we were in LA for the Supernatural convention, we got a call from David.

I’ll let some excerpts from our second book, Fangasm! Supernatural Fangirls, take it from here…

… he let us know that Danneel Harris had actually agreed to an interview too. This prompted some hyperventilating and a rush of euphoria that left us grinning like fools. Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend was going to meet with us? Really? David had given Lynn’s cell phone number to Danneel so that she could call us tomorrow, the same day the boys came back to town. SWEET.

Given the pattern of the weekend so far—great things happening and then going horribly wrong—we should have known what was coming.

[On the Sunday of the convention, while everyone was in a fever pitch of excitement over Jared and Jensen being there] Lynn was obsessively checking her phone. “Noooo!!” she gasped. It was the plaintive moan of a beast in distress.

Kathy assumed that Lynn was passing a gallstone from the sound of it.

“No reception!” Lynn said, wide-eyed.

For Kathy, who hates phones (really, what doesn’t Kathy hate?) this didn’t seem like a big deal. The world really is too connected anyway. An hour out of cell phone reception seemed like a welcome respite, an opportunity just to enjoy the moment.

Lynn wasn’t as philosophical. “What if Danneel calls?”

Kathy honestly didn’t hold out much hope that this would actually happen—a yellow on the threat scale at most—so she wasn’t concerned.

Lynn was taking up her slack by flailing around, banging buttons on her phone as if somehow this would jolt it into action. “How can there be no cell phone reception in LA??”

Lynn had a point. We’re reasonably certain that there is cell phone reception in the Arctic Circle, but there was not a bar to be had in a hotel in LA. LA!! The town where everyone’s people are calling everyone else’s people, where iPhones are accessorized to coordinate with the day’s outfits, where a missed call can ruin a career. Jared and Jensen distracted Lynn for the duration of their time onstage, but as soon as it was over Lynn made a bee line for Jared’s girlfriend, Sandy (the woman sitting in front, wearing a hoodie so no one would recognize her—except Lynn apparently). Lynn wildly explained our dilemma to the stunned and probably scared actress. It was a good thing the Men With No Necks (MWNN) were only being paid to guard “the boys” or Lynn would have been face down on the carpet.

While Lynn was doing this, Kathy was pretending that she did not know Lynn.

Sandy was sympathetic, but didn’t know if she’d even see Danneel. Lynn thanked her for the sympathy and moved on to the next person who might be able to help. She attempted to enlist convention photographer Lizz, to no avail, and finally Creation owner Adam.

“I’ll try Lynn,” he said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But I’m kinda running an entire convention here.”

Thwarted again, Lynn pulled out all the stops. During her Jensen photo op, she stopped everything to explain the situation to Jensen himself.

“Hi, Jensen,” Lynn said, hoping that her voice wasn’t sounding too shaky. “We have an interview set up with Danneel today for the book we’re writing on fandom, and she’s supposed to call us, but I don’t have any reception on my phone, so I’m afraid she won’t be able to.”

The photo-op process screeched to a halt, and the room fell silent. Photo ops, you see, are not a place for conversation. They are highly valued by fans, who pay top dollar for the privilege of standing next to a celebrity, and they are relentlessly organized. The entire experience lasts about twenty seconds, and during that time you’re expected to say hello to the celebrity, smile, perhaps get an arm around your back or lean into said celebrity’s very firm bicep, and then move the hell out of the way and let the next person crowd in for the next picture. The photo ops allow no room for deviation. So when deviation happens, no one is very happy. The photographer wasn’t happy. The other fans weren’t happy. And the MWNN looked ready to move into swift and potentially lethal action.

Not that any of this stopped Lynn. “Can you put us in touch with her?” she continued, oblivious to the threatening stares all around her.

“Oh right, the interview,” Jensen said.

Lynn just nodded, though inside she was stuck on “OMG Jensen knows about our interview and our book, ohmygodohmygod.”

“Maybe she can email you,” Jensen continued. Then the conversation abruptly ended as Lynn was grabbed unceremoniously by the back of the neck and “escorted” from the photo-op room. Uh oh. She hadn’t experienced that feeling since being a two-year-old caught trying to get away with her baby brother’s coveted teddy bear. Lynn was most definitely in trouble—and even worse, she’d made no progress in getting in touch with Danneel, who didn’t even have our email address!

Lynn, ever the intrepid researcher, was not deterred. She thanked the Man with No Neck for his assistance and got right back in line for her next photo op, the “sandwich” photo (as in sandwiched between Jared and Jensen, which is vaguely dirty and thus very popular). As Lynn walked up, Jensen immediately tried to continue their conversation.

“So do you want to . . .” he began, while Jared looked confused. After all, the celebrities know the no talking rule as well as the fans.

Lynn held up a hand defensively. “Shh, I’m not talking to you. I totally got in trouble for it before,” she added, as the MWNN hovered threateningly.

Jensen laughed. “I got in trouble too,” he protested.

We doubt the MWNN were involved.

“Can Danneel get us her email?” Lynn managed as she was once again “encouraged” to leave the room as quickly as possible.

There was no time for an answer. Damn. Thwarted again. We were disappointed, but Lynn was relieved that she wasn’t escorted out of the entire con (the specter of the Flying Fangirl from Asylum still looms large at these events after all). We were still feeling like an interview with Danneel had been too good to be true anyway, so we tried to swallow our sadness and settled in to watch some of the other guests. Midway through the next panel, Lizz the photographer came out into the audience and passed us a note—from Danneel. It just said, “Send me an email, love danneel” and included her email address. Being a bit clueless about the popularity of smartphones in 2008, we figured this meant that she wanted us to get in touch with her later for an email interview. We were disappointed that we wouldn’t get to talk to her in person but incredibly excited that she’d given us her email address. We wandered back outside after the panel and tried not to be too miserable about the Danneel interview not happening that day. We were hanging out in the hallway chatting when photographer Lizz suddenly appeared and yanked us away in the middle of a sentence with an exasperated, “Come with me!” She led us down a small side hall.

We still weren’t entirely sure what was going on. Were we in trouble again? Had the MWNN decided to kick us out after all? Moments later, Danneel emerged from the side door, introducing herself with a smile. Somehow we managed to compose ourselves and smile back. Apparently Jensen had facilitated the interview after all! Danneel suggested that we all grab some coffee, so we headed upstairs to the hotel’s Starbucks, where Danneel insisted on treating.

Coffee in hand, we went back downstairs to start the interview. Danneel suggested that we go backstage to talk, and then came a weirdly symbolic moment. The very same Man with No Neck who had tossed Lynn unceremoniously out of the photo op for daring to speak to the talent now held back the curtain to the backstage area, solicitously helped Danneel and us step over the various wires and cables snaking across the floor, then closed the curtain behind us to seal our crossover. The irony wasn’t lost on us.

Kathy whipped out her trusty voice recorder just as she had done for every other interview we’ve conducted, turned it on, and . . . nothing. We were interviewing Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend and there was NOTHING. It wasn’t the batteries, which had been checked and rechecked. Kathy tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism. She would quietly figure out what was wrong and then she would just as quietly fix it. Deep breaths. Okay, the recorder was FULL. Not to worry. She excused herself, leaving a confused Lynn to entertain Danneel.

First the cell phone, now the voice recorder. Sunday turned out to be the day technology failed us. This, for Lynn, is an everyday occurrence. For Kathy not so much. She loves technology. She embraced the Internet years before it got pretty, she used a “portable” PC to write her doctoral dissertation (portability is of course a relative designation—relative to muscle mass and stamina), and she gets gleeful over the prospect of using every new toy her university has to offer. So yes, technology was her friend. Until it wasn’t.

While Kathy dashed upstairs to grab her laptop (wishing that she could grab a shot of tequila), Lynn attempted to keep up a conversation with Danneel without actually asking any of our carefully prepared interview questions. Without a recorder, there was no way she’d remember a damn thing that was said—so that left small talk as the only option. Luckily, Danneel and Lynn connected over their mutual love of writing, swapped college stories, and then Lynn (as always) managed to talk about her children. Danneel proved herself a great listener. Minutes went by—lots of them—and Lynn realized to her horror that Jensen and Jared were almost done with their autographs. After that, it was off to the airport—and we would lose our interviewee to her boyfriend as she left with Ackles. Where was Kathy???

Finally, shortly before Lynn had moved on to telling Danneel about her daughter’s first steps, Kathy returned and hurriedly tried to download everything onto the laptop while time quickly ran out. Come on!! All Kathy could focus on was how long it was taking for everything to download. That and the rising nausea that threatened to overtake her. Lynn, in desperation, started asking the interview questions (which, since they weren’t recorded, are lost to posterity—and to this book).

Suddenly Jared Padalecki walked by, meaning that autographs were over and people were getting ready to leave. We despaired of a recorded interview, heartbroken over the squandered opportunity. And then, quite unexpectedly, Jensen Ackles was standing there, smiling and saying hello. Even more improbably, he held a fluffy white dog in his arms. For a moment, Kathy was sure this was all part of the nightmare, because fandom at the time had no clue that Jensen even owned a dog. Icarus, however, was quite real—and quite fluffy. Icarus was almost as excited to see Jensen as we were—he’d apparently been whining backstage every time he heard his owner’s voice during the Q&A. We hugged Icarus while Jensen hugged Danneel and tried to talk her into riding with him to the airport. All Kathy heard in those words were that it was too late—she’d blown it.

Danneel, however, had other ideas. She blew Jensen off. No wait. This part can’t really be happening either. More of that dream? Kathy was contemplating poking herself with a sharp object, sticking her finger in a wall socket, anything to jar herself back into reality. This was surely just her own anxiety-ridden psyche toying with her. Must be. Who says goodbye to Jensen Ackles so that she can talk to US?? But Danneel really was excusing herself to say good-bye to Jensen, Icarus happily following, with assurances to us that she’d be right back to finish the interview. Kathy gathered together the few shreds of sanity she still had, sorted the problem, and figured out how to record directly onto the laptop.

Danneel returned, true to her word, and the interview finally began. We relocated to the “green room,” the cloistered room where the guests are confined between stage appearances. The green room, as we were well aware, is a private space—more or less a “No Fans Allowed” clubhouse for the celebrities. We immediately felt like imposters, occupying a space where we clearly shouldn’t be. The room offered a small banquet of food, a bit of which we gratefully sampled, and a table stacked full of fans’ gifts for “the boys.” The coolest of these was a hairdryer that looked exactly like Dean Winchester’s favorite gun—and yes, it actually worked!

Danneel, of course, was quite comfortable in the green room and turned out to be very good at making us comfortable as well. Lynn asked questions. Danneel answered. Kathy breathed. Everything was going to work out just fine. Somewhere the unicorns of fandom were neighing happily.

And then the laptop went dead.

Kathy again tried to be unobtrusive as she flailed around trying to find an outlet. No point in making a bigger fool of herself, right? Sooner or later, though, it became apparent that she was in need of assistance and everyone, including Danneel, was up and scouting for an outlet, crawling under tables and moving furniture to do so. Danneel, we decided, had the patience of a saint. She never lost her sense of humor either, shrugging off our apology for keeping her from accompanying Jensen to the airport by wryly noting that “Jared would have been in the limo anyway, it’s not like we could have made out on the way to the airport” and jumping up to knock on wood when we asked her about the possibility of marriage.

In the midst of all the sitcom mishaps we did manage to carry on an interview…

You can read the rest of our misadventures (and the interview itself) with Danneel in the book, but Kathy and I left that day with a respect and affection for Danneel that has never faded.

Jensen posted a photo of her plunging a clogged toilet today for her birthday, and I laughed because it makes it clear that she’s still as genuine as she was that day she got down on the floor and crawled around looking for an outlet right along with us.

I’ve had the opportunity to chat with Danneel several times since our hilarious interview, and I think most people who have run into her at the brewery would say this too – she’s not afraid to be real.

I’m so glad Danneel was able to be part of Supernatural as a cast member before it ended, but really she’s always been part of the SPN Family. Happy birthday, Danneel – thanks for keeping it real!

–Lynn

Source: [x]

#THIS IS SUCH A SWEET STORY 🥺#danneel ackles #jensen ackles #the ackles #Fangasm #danneel:with fans #real life angel #ackles:stories #ackles:encounters #sandra mccoy #danneel:with jared #j2:cons #ackles:cons #ackles:with fans #jensen:with fans #j2:with fans #cute lil dork #danneel:cons

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twilightknight17 · 3 years

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We’re at the end of the road, folks.

And god damn, I feel so validated by my Sojiro characterization. Wow. Thanks for basically making me canon for ten more seconds, Atlus. XDDD

So when last we left our intrepid heroes, they were laying at the bottom of the Jail of the Abyss, because Ichinose is an asshole. So we had to fight our way back up, carrying Sophia’s unconscious body. Which wasn’t that bad; the Jail isn’t very big. We left Sophia at the door to keep her safe, and then charged back into the hall of the Ark to hack Ichinose’s exploding crystal box thing.

Ichinose doesn’t understand why we came back.

So, yeah. I guess like... bizarro-world Maruki? Maruki wanted to alleviate suffering by granting everyone’s wishes. EMMA’s going to make it so that people can’t wish for anything.

After a kick-ass hacking battle set to the new version of Rivers in the Desert, Ichinose yells at us about our right to judge. Why should humanity keep this painful world, just because WE’RE strong? Just because we’ve never screwed up or suffered?

Which, clearly she has no idea who the fuck she’s talking to.

We’ve worked too hard to listen to that kind of bullshit.

Ichinose proclaims that “humans don’t need hearts” and charges up the laser crystal to blast us again, and Sophia steps in to block the attack. She’s still fighting Ichinose’s control even though Ichinose insists that she’s just a faulty prototype.

Apparently Ichinose created Sophia in the first place because she spent a lifetime being called a heartless doll, so she made an AI to help her learn about the heart.

I think you’re the problem, but not for the reasons everyone else is saying.

But she got angry when Sophia started asking questions of her own and basically tossed her aside, until EMMA found her and dropped her into the Shibuya Jail.

And Sophia, unlike her creator, has learned and grown, and is tired of being given orders. She’s ready to make her own choices.

That is certainly a persona.

I gotta admit, they got me. I was wondering why Sophia didn’t have her arcana yet, but for some reason, I also wasn’t expecting her to get a proper persona. I’m now wondering about the implications of someone being able to code an AI capable of developing a soul that can summon a persona. There’s a zero percent chance that Ichinose had any access to plumes of dusk, which are the reason that Aigis and Labrys gained enough consciousness to have personas. So Sophia is legitimately a miracle piece of technology.

Pandora is an interesting choice, but I dunno if I can articulate that beyond a surface-level, “Oh, because she’s Hope, and Hope was still in the box.”

I swear to god, every major villain in this game is trying to be Goro Akechi. For the last goddamn time, we don’t kill people. Get up, Ichinose. We’re leaving.

Ryuji literally grabs her by the arm and drags her out, because she’s trying to stay behind. Which just confirms for me that if Goro hadn’t put up that bulkhead door, we’d have dragged his stupid ass out of the Ship, too. XD

Back to the real world, and Tokyo is blacking out, and the Tower is losing its shit.

The metaverse is fusing with reality, the Tower is becoming the Tree of Knowledge, and hell yes we are climbing this tower after all!

Morgana points out that this is the same thing that happened last year, and Zenkichi freaks out a little bit.

You’re lucky you moved to Kyoto, sir. You missed quite a bit.

I love these kids, though. They’ve got so much black humor about this whole god thing.

The metaverse encroaching on reality means that everyone has to cram into the bus in their thief gear. Zenkichi, please. Your hat. Sir.

I love climbing this tower. I’ve been here, too! Also they have butter. XD

I was expecting the Mementos version of the lower observation deck, and instead I got some weird amalgam between Mementos and Azathoth’s boss chamber.

We had to fight Metatron as the guardian of the last elevator, which is another parallel to Yaldabaoth’s archangels. And then it’s up to what I guess used to be the high observation deck to fight the big box.

EMMA insists that all humanity wants is to let it give them all the answers, and it throws them into some sort of alternate fog world full of the voices of the public.

The Thieves are all separated, trapped in the fog. Each of them has to find their way out, and they realize that the fog of the Desires is protecting EMMA. EMMA knows exactly how calling cards work, so they won’t work on her. Instead, the Thieves decide that they need to send the calling card to the public, so that they’ll become aware of their desires again and the desires will crystalize.

...oh come on, Atlus. We’re right in the endgame.

One last hacker battle to break into EMMA’s server room in the tower, and Futaba and Ichinose manage to hack EMMA itself to deliver a calling card to everyone at once.

Love you, Zenkichi. We’ve taken out two gods already. We’re good.

Confronting the Ark again reveals a bunch of freaky tentacle arms grabbing the desires, and then the box turns into some sort of massive figure that looks sort of like Yaldabaoth, except less robot and more seraphim. It literally names itself the Demiurge, so I feel like EMMA may be drawing something from the lingering dregs of Yald’s influence? It’s cool.

Clearly no one told you what happened to the last false god that thought it knew what was best for humanity. ;) “Hope binds humanity to misery” is bullshit.

After a... not very difficult first phase, the Demiurge reveals its true form, and we split into three teams to take out its support orbs (modeled after the sephirot) and the main body.

I really liked the setup for the last boss. The teams were the first instance where it was really apparent that the whole team was fighting together. Each of the three battles was happening concurrently, and destroying the orbs has a concrete effect on the main fight. I wish we’d gotten to do things like this more often, especially during the Shadow Thieves fight.

That said, the main body was actually the easiest part of the fight? All the attacks were really telegraphed, and not particularly hard to avoid. Except for the spear jab.

But it finished off with a full-team all-out attack, and that was awesome.

The desires began to return to their owners, and we get to bask in a job well done once again.

Upon returning to the real world, it’s the next morning. Sophia’s happy that she got to be a hero, Zenkichi’s heading off to properly arrest Owada, and the rest of us need to head home, because we were supposed to be home last night. Zenkichi can’t figure out why we consider him a phantom thief, since he “only joined [us] to use [us]”. Which is silly. The Phantom Thieves are built on the bonds of friendship and stalking! It’s too late, Zenkichi. You and Akane have been adopted.

I’m a little disappointed we didn’t get to tell Akane the truth. That would have been great.

Atlus personally reaches out and pats me on the head, because Sojiro has the absolute perfect reaction to his kids coming home after a nationwide manhunt for them.

I feel so valid making him serve Lavenza coffee and be completely nonplussed about a guy marrying Death. I love him. We’re so lucky to have Sojiro. XDDDD

The next day, the kids have a celebration party for their victory, and learn that Akira is going home the next day. This kid needs to catch a break. He can’t even have a few days to relax with his friends. X’‘‘D

Everyone goes to see off Akira, though we detour to Shibuya to meet Ichinose. A news report shows that Owada was successfully arrested, and apparently Ichinose tried to turn herself in to the police, and they didn’t believe a word of it.

This is just highlighting my issues with Maruki. Even if he doesn’t think he did anything wrong to society as a whole, he never apologizes to them for what he put them through. Especially Akira. Ichinose turns around and helps them stop the final boss, and her last scene is her apologizing to the Thieves and trying to make amends for her actions. Maruki’s last scene is... “If things get bad, you can start over like me! Now we’re even!” We are not.

Sophia leaves to help Ichinose learn about the heart, Akira promises to come back for winter break, the Phantom Thieves go their separate ways once again, and the credits roll.

I’m gonna leave my final impressions in a different post, because this one is long enough already. So... look forward to that?

#Li plays P5Scramble #one more post incoming

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 262: A Fierce Bad Rabbit

Previously on BnHA: The hospital raid squad, which had two jobs consisting of (1) not letting Ujiko get away, and (2) not letting any of the Noumu break free to go ravage the countryside, impressively failed at both of these tasks (or so I assume) in a remarkably short amount of time. The EndeavorZawaMicLock squad were all occupied with having a very destructive fight in the hospital lobby, leaving my girl Miruko, Goddess of Courage and First of Her Name, to do pretty much all the heavy lifting, which, fine!! Except that Ujiko remembered that he had a bunch of High End Noumus just floating there waiting to be activated, and he was all “!!” and fucking activated them, and like five of them went after Miruko all at once and smashed her into a bunch of machinery and glass tubes, which frankly should have killed her but it didn’t because she’s a fucking boss. But now it’s just her (and Crust, who might do something too, but for now JURY’S STILL OUT) against all these guys while Ujiko speeds off to grab Tomura and abscond. So basically everything that could go wrong has already gone wrong so UH. OKAY.

Today on BnHA: Miruko kicks ass. Then she checks her watch and sees that there’s still time for her to kick more ass, so she does. Then there is still time, because this chapter is all about her kicking ass! So she kicks even more ass!! It’s great!! I have no complaints!! She decapitates a man with her thighs!! That’s a thing that really happens!! Also she loses an arm but WHO HASN’T LOST AND/OR BROKEN THEIR ARMS IN THIS SERIES, REALLY. Everyone is doing it. Somehow she manages to make it look cool because Miruko. Miruko can strangle a man with a cordless phone. She can kill two stones with one bird. Miruko makes onions cry. Death once had a near-Miruko experience. Mirukoooooooo. Anyway the chapter ends with Skeptic warning everyone at The Ol’ Villain Hotel that the heroes are coming, so basically WELCOME BACK, EVERYONE, this manga is back with a vengeance.

guys I’m gonna try to do this recap fast because I’m seeing Heroes Rising tonight at 7:30! and I’m so excited! and for those that asked, yes I do plan on doing some kind of write-up about it, though it’ll all be from memory after the fact so we’ll see how that goes. but !! I’ve waited 84 years for this ahhhhh but anyway so in the meantime let’s see what new and creative ways our heroes are finding to screw this up even more

(ETA: I did it but this thing isn’t edited for shit lol. after I get back I’ll give it a more thorough readthrough so sorry if I missed any really obvious errors! also there are probably way more exclamation points than usual which may or may not be a plus or minus.)

look at this helpful announcement

High End Noumu approaching, everyone. you have been warned. just in case you somehow failed to notice?? IT’S RIGHT THERE Y’ALL LOOK OUT

lmao FINALLY

MORE HEROES. YOU ALL CERTAINLY TOOK YOUR FUCKING TIME, but hey welcome to the party. and none of that “I don’t see how that’s a party” sassy shit either. you all know what I’m talking about so get out there and have fun

so they’re standing there all “it’s a talking Noumu!” and YEAH. that’s what I’ve been fucking trying to tell you. thank god someone finally fucking said it out loud so that hopefully the EZML squad can finally take notice of this as well. like guys. bigger fish?! get to frying!!

so now Crust is all “there are more of them ahead, Miruko’s in danger!” which, again, thanks for finally letting everyone else in on this formerly exclusive scoop there pal. ‘preciate it

I... really do not understand Crust’s quirk at all. I’m just gonna own up to it

what is this. what does “zuga” mean fx-wise. why did those scale things on his arms get so big. what are they made of. what’s happening

oh it turns out that if you scroll and read more instead of pausing for ages to ask dumb questions, the thing you were asking about might actually be explained in great detail in the very next panel

but what are they made out of though. and why “Crust”?? ah well I suppose that’s a question for someone who actually cares more than I do

by the way the quality of this scan is actually really good so far, I gotta say. we’re only two pages in, true, but they either cleaned this up really nicely, or this was a much higher-quality scan than usual. either way I am appreciative!

lol this poor Noumu is shook

what did I name you two weeks ago, again? Rusty?? anyways he’s doing his best you guys. gambare my dude, though actually you do need to die, so that’s too bad though

Crust is all “you pitiful living corpse!” with tears in his eyes because he’s dramatic! but jokes aside I do appreciate that he has compassion for these monsters who are all still basically innocent victims at the end of the day

does anyone else actually hear that funny-sounding anime narrator guy in your head nowadays when you read panels like this lol

I can hear the voice so clearly and it’s great

only ten times the strength of a normal human, guys. that’s actually not that bad. I’m only half joking lol. because obviously your average hero is going to be much stronger than a so-called “normal” person too, yes? and I’m pretty sure Miruko has the strength of like 30 humans but I may be overestimating her just slightly but am I though

oh lol I apparently did not learn my lesson about doing commentary before I’m done reading hahaha

so High Ends are on a different tier of their own above even the “high” tier. well that’s just. yeah that sounds more like the “we’re still fucked” update that I was expecting

oh wait, seriously??

are you telling me that all of the High Ends were actually cultivated from villains? so maybe not completely innocent, then? is this Horikoshi’s way of trying to make us feel marginally better about the fact that the heroes are shortly henceforth going to have to exterminate these guys with great prejudice? I mean they’re still basically slaves to Ujiko’s programming now though so that sucks

also I missed this earlier but the narration here basically just confirmed that Noumu are all made from corpses. which I kind of suspected, but the still-very-much-alive Tomura would then be a glaring contradiction to that, no? or is that why he’s so special. anyway I do appreciate that we’re getting a lot of much-awaited answers in this Noumu arc, but some of this is also just raising more questions. gotta be patient I guess

speaking of Tomura, Ujiko’s back in the Tomura room, so. I assume some absconding is soon to occur

oh shit!! so there’s another panel explaining that “artificial transplant of quirks” requires surgery and then three months of stabilization time following that. sooooo I’m pretty sure this mofo just confirmed that he gave Tomura some shiny additional new quirks, so that’s nice! that’s real fucking great! I know we were all eyeing Tomura skeptically and thinking to ourselves “this is almost just right, but needs more death”

wait, what?

“I was already dead anyway” meaning that he knows there’s no way out for him? and so he doesn’t have a secret way out of the lab?? ??? can that really be true?? our intrepid heroes actually did their job right and the villains had no contingency plan?? oh my god I am so terrified of letting my guard down lmao I still refuse to believe this at all

and is that Tomura who’s at 70% stabilization? that would seem to fit with the timeline we were given. holy shit is he unboxing him early fsdfkjalsdk are we about to go from “fucked” to “exorbitantly fucked”

and why am I strangely excited about it sob!!

HAHAHAHA OH GOD

so this is how liberty dies. with a beep

also fuck you all, now it’s at 71%?! couldn’t leave it at a nice even number for us, could you? you just had to throw that extra percent in there at the last moment to fuck with us all

anyway did you all catch how fucking ripped he was there though? like boiiii whaaaaat. clearly his abs are already at 100%

OH MY GOD

DOES NOTHING FUCKING FAZE THIS BEAUTIFUL, RULE-BREAKING MOTH

HAHAHA

RIGHT??

HOLY FUCKING MOLY

friendly reminder that Dabi was all good and ready to throw down with both Endeavor and Hawks (who were admittedly weakened by that point) that one time a while back, but then Miruko showed up and he was all “lol nope I think the fuck not” and warped out of there. Dabi, whose quirk is so powerful that its only apparent downside is the fact that it roasts him alive as well. that Dabi took one look at Miruko and decided he likes having his spine intact and fucking vamoosed, because that is the smart fucking thing to do when this girl shows up smiling at you the way that she is smiling at these Noumu now

anyway. fucking Ujiko knew he needed at least five High Ends to even stand a chance of slowing her down, is all I’m saying. y’all better respect the FUCK out of Miruko, everyone. it’s the law

anyway. so. quirk: bunny. can smash rl gud

someone needs to ask Horikoshi the fuck kind of rabbits he has been hanging out with. applied that “and more!” part pretty fucking liberally huh. WHO DID YOU SAY TRIX WERE FOR AGAIN, CHILDREN??

NOBODY THROWS MIRUKO IN THE BRIAR PATCH AND GETS AWAY WITH IT

fffwhatttttttttt

that would be our good buddy Max Rebo. so that’s definitely not an elephant trunk-like thing then. we may need a new name for you

on a side note, I never thought we’d meet another character who looks more like Katsuki than Mitsuki does, and yet every damn week Miruko is proving me wrong. goddamn she is great

lmao wait maybe that wasn’t Max at all, but Jester. because this is clearly Max over here

so Girl!Noumu is a water bender, Jester can do... something weird with his hair, and Max can do anything an elephant can do if that elephant was also powered by steam. nice

HAHAHA BUT MIRUKO IS ALL “KICK!!!”

HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK!!!

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. I WOULD READ AN ENTIRE MANGA OF JUST THIS LMAO THIS IS TOO MUCH ADRENALINE I CAN’T

JESTER’S WEIRD SPIKY ROCK HAIR IS SLICING HER ARM AND SHE’S ALL “THAT HURTS YOU JERK!!!!” AND GETTING READY TO FREAKING PILEDRIVE HIM I CAN’T, THOUGH!?

SDKFJLDKSJFLKJ

HER FATHER PEPPY TAUGHT HER THAT. BARREL ROLL ALL OVER THESE BITCHES!!

WHAT THE FUCK

FUCKING QUIRKS!!!! THOUGH!!!! WILLLLLLLLLD

SDKFJLAS;DHK OH MY GOD OH SHIT

real talk this is the scariest fucking quirk I’ve ever seen I was like what the fuck looking at her arm and then I saw him doing the twisty hand gesture and just. fuck. YOU’RE NOT CRIMSON RIOT AT ALL YOU’RE SOME PSYCHO TELEKINETIC BITCH AND I FUCKING HATE YOU!!

NO!!!!!

fuck fuck fuck. I’M SURE HER ARM’S GOING TO BE JUST FINE AND DANDY AFTER THIS GUYS, DON’T WORRY. THIS MANGA HAS SUCH A SERENE AND TRANQUIL HISTORY WITH ARMS. ISN’T THAT RIGHT DEKU

though on the plus side, if she does lose that arm we can count on her to somehow instantly become like 50x more attractive, which I’m pretty sure might cause the very fabric of the universe to unravel but it would be worth it

(ETA: SHE DID AND IT WAS!!)

MADAME PRESIDENT!! MY QUEEN

OH HELL YERRRRRR

fucking hell guys I’m running out of exclamation points and excited things to say here. AND SHE JUST KEEPS GOING! LIKE HER MOM THE ENERGIZER BUNNY BEFORE HER

I’M SORRY UJIKO DID YOU THINK FIVE HIGH ENDS WAS ENOUGH?! MAYBE NEXT TIME WE MAKE IT TEN, HOW ABOUT THAT. FUCK OFF

lmao holy shit I can’t stop laughingggg

well Crimson, at least you get to die happy. is she literally going to crush his face between her thighs. is this entire chapter just one big prank on me. if Miruko was the protagonist would this series have ended in the first chapter. trick question, the answer is it never would have started to begin with because she would have killed All for One years ago!! how much would it cost to hire Miruko to come kick away all of my problems for me

hello good afternoon everyone this is a real panel that really happened in this manga

I don’t even know what to say about anything anymore

sob she’s all “YEAH RIGHT” and SNAPPING HIS FUCKING NECK WITH A FUCKING TRIANGLE CHOKE, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING, FUCKING LOOK!! AT!! THIS!!!

we’re not even gonna make it to 300 chapters. Horikoshi held off for as long as he could, but eventually Miruko couldn’t be contained any longer and he had to unleash her and she instantly went and reckt every last fucking bad guy out there until there was nothing left. who are the kids even going to fight. nobody that’s who. go back to school kids

SON OF A BITCH WHAT IS HAPPENING

THIS IS THE MOST VIOLENT THING I HAVE EVER FUCKING SEEN AND YET SOMEHOW I SWEAR I CAN HEAR ANGELS SINGING. RESPLENDENT

SOBBING!!!!

“S’POSE I SHOULD GET THIS ANNOYING THING CHECKED OUT BEFORE I BLEED TO DEATH OR SOME BULLSHIT.” WHAT AN INCONVENIENCE. JUST A FUCKING FLESH WOUND. NOBODY USES ARMS THESE DAYS ANYWAY

“IF THE ONLY WAY TO STOP YOU IS BY CRUSHING YOUR HEADS THIS WILL BE WAY EASIER THAN HOLDING BACK ON A NORMAL VILLAIN.” SOB THIS IS MIRUKO’S WORLD AND WE’RE ALL JUST BEGRUDGINGLY ALLOWED TO EXIST IN IT. MY BARONESS

DID YOU JUST TOURNIQUET YOUR DISMEMBERED FUCKING LIMB WITH YOUR OWN FUCKING HAIR ONE-HANDED FFCKCK KCKCLK JUST MIRUKO THINGS

Miruko also saw Horikoshi getting ready to end the chapter after 17 pages and was like “EXCUSE YOU THERE” and he backed off because he actually likes having a fucking head thank you very much

LMAO AND NOW OF ALL TIMES WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE OL’ VILLAIN RESORT. SIGH

Skeptic seems to have finally cottoned on to them being in some kind of trouble. huh

how does he know it was Jin who screwed up?? did he realize that Hawks betrayed them oh shit!?!

OOP HE’S SOUNDING THE ALARM

AND THE CHAPTER IS ENDING. BUT I’M NOT DONE SCREAMING. AHHHHHH well anyways I’m off to watch my children kick lots of ass on the big screen. assuming I can get this posted in time with zero editing whatsoever lol I’ve got like... an hour. WE SHALL SEE!

(ETA: we did it lol just barely! this whole thing is probably a giant mess but oh well! Mirukoooooo)

#bnha 262 #miruko #mirko #ujiko daruma #I already forgot his new official name ah well #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste spoiler recap #makeste reads bnha #no time for tags!!#movie!!!!

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copias-thrall · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains

Hey all! Here’s the next part of this Mary Goore fic I’ve apparently decided to flesh out.

When we last saw our intrepid heroes, they had just resolved their miscommunication re: what they were to each other. Alack the day, there are still some bumps ahead, so buckle up! Angst ahead …

(Part 1)

It starts with the “Manager’s Special” chicken. It’s one of those “budget weeks”—working remotely has done wonders for your mental health, but it comes at the price of consistent work—so you’re really only at the bargain market to pick up essentials.

The chicken though … it is discounted, and you don’t have to get fancy bagels (the bagged ones will do), so you add the thighs to your basket. You could even bake them tonight—and wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for Mary. You did promise you’d make an effort. You even pick up a can of store-brand asparagus.

Cooking it isn’t even hard—you’re a pro at rice now, and all you have to do to the asparagus is put a little breading on it and stick it in at the end of the chicken; the chicken just needs to be rotated every 20 minutes, and you get the added bonus of the oven heating your small space.

It finishes way before Mary graces you with his presence—his timing and constancy are spotty at best. It’s funny how he seemed to always be around when he annoyed you, and now that you’ve embraced being his girlfriend, he always seems to be MIA.

You almost eat your portion—and a few weeks ago before Mary’s declaration, you would have without a thought—but in the end decide it’d probably be a nice gesture to eat with him. So, both plates go into the oven to keep warm.

It’s hard to keep track of Mary’s schedule because, well, he doesn’t really have one. He works nights, but … his hours aren’t consistent and he seems to often take more hours at the last minute. And if he’s cut early, he just slips in and sleeps on your couch. How you never noticed that before is a testament to his previous criticism of you, even if you had gotten in the habit of keeping a portion of dinner around just for him.

Apparently it’s one of those nights he started early and got cut early, because he’s sneaking into your place a little after midnight. (“How do you keep getting in here?” “Um, with your key.” “My key?” “Yeah. Your key. You know, the one you gave to me because you got tired of getting up to let me in??” “Oh yeah …”)

When he sees you burritoed on the couch watching TNG reruns, however, he abandons all semblance of stealth.

“Oh hey.”

“Hey.”

He drops your keys back into an open pouch of his tattered backpack.

“Why are you still up?”

“I thought I’d wait up for you.”

He toes off his boots before coming to sprawl on the couch.

“Ok. But why?”

You sit up. “Uh … to see you?”

“Well, I’m not going to be much company. I’m exhausted.” Even as he says it, he’s reclining and pressing his hands into his eye sockets. "I don’t know why you’re not asleep if you have the option to be.”

Snorting, you shrug off your blanket so you can get up. “Why are you here if you thought you wouldn’t see me?”

He looks at you sheepishly. “I thought you might have some food left.” When you roll your eyes at him, he says, “And to see your reenactment of a mole person in the morning. Frankly you’re adorable when your toddling around the place and banging into walls before your coffee. Comedic gold.”

You retrieve the plates of food from the oven—no longer hot, but still warm enough to be passable. You transport them to your coffee table, where you’d already left out utensils.

“I’m no longer sure you deserve this, but here,” you say as you set the plates down. And then you get to work on your chicken. Frankly, you’re starving—the last time you ate was around noon. You take the skin off and begin to pull the meat off in strips. You could use your knife and fork, but you’re at home and it’s just Mary.

You look over at him surreptitiously and find he’s just staring at you.

“What? Is this skeeving you out?”

He looks down at his plate and back to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“The fuck is this?”

“Um,” you say, not entirely sure how to answer the obvious. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he sputters gesturing at his plate.

You lick the grease off your fingers. “It’s chicken?”

“No, shit. I know it’s chicken.”

You give him a full body eyeroll. “Do you hate chicken this week or something?”

He makes a couple of aborted movements with his arms. “It’s this whole … this whole thing. You here waiting up for me, and now we’re eating this … this prepared dinner together.”

“You’re pissed I’m eating with you?” you saw slowly.

“Yes! You’re usually asleep this late, and what’s with this production of your leftovers?”

“They’re not leftovers! I made us dinner. I thought I’d eat it with you, jeez.”

What’s his deal?

“But we don’t eat dinner together! And you never make it for me!”

What the hell. Does he really think you just always make too much? Like on accident?

“Oh, so it’s only ok for you to eat my food when you think you’re stealing it from me? Is that your reasoning? Did it ever occur to you that I always have leftovers because I know you eat them, dickface?”

He agitatedly runs his fingers through his hair. “I mean, not stealing. I just thought you were ok with me eating your leftovers.”

“Because they’re for you!”

Mary huffs. “That’s not that point.”

“So then what is the point? What’s the fucking problem?

“You!”

Your mouth actually drops open.

“Me? Me?! I stay up so we can eat dinner together, and I’m the problem.”

Mary throws his hands up. “Yes.”

You just stare at him.

“I see,” you say, even though you really don’t, his words making you feeling small.

He puts his head in his hands and screams in frustration.

“Christ. Not you you. The way you’re acting. This whole … performance,” he says, sweeping his hands at the plates of food. “You’re not little Susie homemaker. I don’t come here so you can meet me at the door with a cocktail and have supper on the table or some shit.”

You’re having a flames on the side of my face moment. All you wanted to do was be nice to your supposed boyfriend. Whether the white hot spikes coursing through you are from anxiety, anger, or hurt, you can feel the burning behind your eyes—but damned if you’re going to let Mary see you cry. So you go on the offensive.

“For fuck’s sake, Mary! I’m your girlfriend. Is it so fucking unreasonable that I’d want to fucking see you? That I’d want to do something nice for you?”

He glares at you, “Yes!”

“Yes,” you repeat back deadpan.

Mary makes a sound of irritation. “ ‘Yes’, since you never have before.”

And boy does that feel like a slap in the face.

He goes on, as if he hasn’t just flamed you.

“I liked things how they were! I liked you the way you were. I don’t want you changing for me. If I wanted someone to fawn over me and be nice I’d be fucking groupies. I know you’re better than that. Better than whatever reductive bullshit you tried serving me up tonight.”

You can feel the embarrassed flush rise to your face. He doesn’t think you’re nice? He wants you to continue to treat him as a booty call? That’s the girlfriend he wants? You guess it makes sense. Of course some guy would find that the epitome of a good relationship. So, ok. If that’s what he wants.

“Fine,” you hiss as you grab up the plates. You walk over to your trashcan, and Mary flinches forward when you dump both contents into the opening. “There! Problem solved!”

You toss the plates into the sink, and they make such a loud clatter that you’re sure you might have broken something, but you don’t bother to check. Instead, you grab up the half-finished bag of sour cream & onion chips nestled on your counter and toss them at Mary. He catches them reflexively.

“That’s what you wanted, right? My leftovers that aren’t for you?” He’s looking at you with wide eyes, bag still clutched to him. “Well, enjoy. I’m going to go to sleep now, because apparently it’s past my bedtime.”

You storm off to your bathroom and slam the door. Immediately you turn on the faucet so Mary can’t hear you as you try to take deep, calming breaths. You fill up the sink with cold water and dunk your face in as long as you can.

Fine, whatever, you think as you perform your nightly ablutions. You were ok with how things were too. You can just pretend nothing’s changed. Before you knew gravity existed, you were never in danger of falling.

You’re half expecting Mary to be gone when you exit the bathroom, but you can still see the back of his head sticking up from the couch. You don’t pursue anything further, opting to just close yourself in your room for the night.

Before, you always found it silly that Mary never snuck in to join you, but tonight you’re glad that that’s apparently The Way Things Are, since a few tears manage to escape and wet your pillow.

He’s gone when you wander out the next morning (though you note he’s cleaned your dishes and taken out your trash).

A few days go by, and you don’t hear from Mary at all. Not like you’re surprised—you hardly know where the two of you stand, why should he? You find yourself staring at his text thread in your phone, but what would you even say? You’re not sorry and you’re not going to beg—and even “Let’s just forget about it, come by tonight” feels suspiciously like begging.

The whole incident seems unfair, in your opinion. He asked you to be his girlfriend. All you did was make him dinner, and isn’t that what people in a relationship do? Care for each other? What a fine trick he played on you. Making you think it was ok to care for him and then berating you for it.

It’s nearly a week later—when you feel like you’re 2/3 of the way through making peace with the Relationship That Never Was—when you get a text from Mary.

Mary [4:35pm]: Ok 2 cum ovr?

Your face heats up, and you’re not sure if you’re going to tell him to fuck off or to come over until you’ve actually sent your reply.

Me [5:03pm]: Up to you. Mary [5:03pm]: K

If he was trying to fuck with you with his response, he succeeded. You decide your new philosophy when it comes to Mary is just to act the way you would have prior to The Girlfriend Event. So, even though every minute that ticks by is slicing paper cuts into your soul, you do everything as you would have. You make too much dinner and set aside the excess; you binge a few episodes on Netflix as you eat; you FaceTime with a friend who wants your opinion on which new dress to buy; you box up the now-cool leftovers in some Tupperware and place them in your fridge; you fuck around on the internet.

At nearly 11pm you call it a night. You’re brushing your teeth when you hear your front door open. On any day Before™️, you would have kept going, so that’s what you do. You finish brushing your teeth; you swoosh mouthwash; you scrub your face; you brush out your hair.

When you leave the bathroom, you find Mary leaning against the back of your couch, hands in pockets.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you say.

You wait, but if you expected him to say more, you’re disappointed.

“Well,” you start, “it’s my bedtime, so ….” You jerk your head toward your bedroom.

“Yes, of course.” He doesn’t say any more, nor does he move.

“Yes.” When he still doesn’t speak, you say, “Well, sleep well when you do, then. Good night.”

“I will. I mean—you too.”

You don’t invite him into your bed, and he doesn’t follow you.

He’s still gone when you wake up, but there’s evidence he slept on the couch, and your leftovers container is sitting in the drying rack.

The next encounter isn’t any less awkward.

You’re on a conference call when you hear the lock turn in your door. You usually try to work from a coffee shop—get the stink blown off you, get your step in and all—but you hate taking calls out in the wild. When he sees you—and hears the chatter coming from your laptop—Mary freezes.

You gesture him in. “I’m on mute.”

“Sorry—I thought …”

“It’s fine.”

“Ok.”

He sits stiffly in the other corner of your couch as you occasionally chime in on the call. When you finally disconnect, he turns and says,

“I didn’t realize you were working.”

You squint at him. “I’m usually working.”

“You’re usually not here.”

And ok. He only came by because he thought you were gone. Totally cool.

“Ah,” is what you say.

“I can go … ?” he says, gesturing with his thumb toward the door.

You check in with Before You™️; she gives you a Gallic shrug, so you say, “I don’t care either way.” You go back to typing away as Mary continues to sit there stiffly. After a few minutes, you sigh.

“What did you come here for, Mary?” you ask, and then mutter under your breath, “Not for me, apparently.”

“I …” he starts, but doesn’t continue. After a few more beats, he says, “I’ll go.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I wasn’t kicking you out. I legitimately want to know what you’re in my apartment for, if not for me.”

He picks at his cuticles. “Sometimes I take a nap. Your place is … midway between practice and the bar. But you’re working. ”

You look over at him. Before You™️ is warring with Girlfriend You, but ultimately you decide that Before You™️ would have merely been irritated. So you’re convenient, so what?

“It’s fine,” you say as you stand up to stretch. “I should be working at my desk, anyway. It’s hard on my back being crunched over. Have at,” you say, indicating the couch. You pick up your laptop and move into your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

A few hours later you hear the beep of an alarm and then the sounds of Mary moving about before the click of your apartment door closing.

You don’t really get much more done the rest of that day.

Mary doesn’t stop randomly showing up at your place, and you don’t really dissuade him, but … to say things are strained is an understatement. You’re torn between having told Mary you’d try harder and your determination to be Before You™️. You realize it’s been awhile since you fucked him (your vibrator seems to live by your pillow these days), and you’re nothing if not fastidious. Before You™️ would be fucking Mary like crazy, so that’s what you’re gonna do.

The next time he comes over, you sidle up to him, hands running up and down his sides and face pressed into his chest.

“Um,” he says as he just stands there. “What’s happening right now.”

You sigh. “Christ, Mary. Are you ever going to fuck me again?”

You’re still pressed into him—hands roving—when he says, “I don’t think I want to right now” and then extracts himself from your grasp.

And oh.

Oh, ok.

Your eyes immediately fill with tears at the rejection, and you’re mortified. You pull away from him and turn your gaze to the floor too hide your reaction.

“Right. Ok. Well, I don’t think I want you here right now.”

“Sue …”

Head bowed, you turn away from him and open your front door.

“Please leave,” you say to the wall behind the door.

“You’re not being fair,” Mary growls.

Your head snaps back to him, even as the tears threaten to spill.

“Fuck you. I’m not going to spend another night dancing around you. It’s fucking exhausting. Either you want to be here, or you don’t. If you want to be here, then you have to be here with me. I’m not a fucking hostel.”

“So it’s an ultimatum, then? Fuck you or fuck off?”

The tears make their escape, despite you willing them to stay put. You angrily scrub your eyes with the back of your sleeve, embarrassed. You’re usually better at holding back.

“Are you fucking crying? Seriously?”

You decide that you absolutely don’t have to deal with this. It was a good run, a worthwhile experiment, but it’s run its course. There are lots of boys to fuck in the sea. Thank you, drive through.

The tears continue to leak from your eyes—no use hiding them now—as you resignedly bob your head at him.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” You walk past him straight into your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You curl into a ball in your bed, biting your pillow until your hear your front door slam shut. Finally free, you let loose your wails of frustration. Ugly, racking sobs that clog your nose until you blow free the snot with the edge of your fitted sheet.

When the door to your room suddenly opens, it startles you into an aborted hiccup. Mary stands in the doorway, eyes wet and looking pale.

“Please stop that,” he says quietly.

“Why are you still here?!” you blubber at him.

He shrugs.

“Fuck,” you spit out around your congestion. You turn away from him, still actively trying not to lose it again. “I thought you left.”

“I didn’t.”

You can’t decide if you’re thrilled he didn’t leave or if you’re livid you can’t have the privacy to feel all your ugly feelings.

All you say is, “I’m tired, Mary.”

“Ok,” is all he says in return.

You hear the door to your room click shut, but you also hear Mary moving around. You’re still leaking and softly keening, but even so, you feel the covers lift and Mary climbs into your bed behind you. He presses up behind you, bare-chested and in his boxers, and wraps an arm around your waist.

“Is this ok?” he asks. It is, but you burst into tears anyway. He stiffens, and you’re afraid he’s going to pull away, so you grab his hand and clutch it to you.

You decide fuck it—he’ll leave or he won’t—and continue to grip his hand as you sob into your pillow. He awkwardly makes shushing noises at you as he pets your hair. You cry yourself into an exhausted sleep, and when you wake up, Mary is gone. Again.

There’s a finality to it, so you fumble for your phone and groggily email your manager that you’re taking a sick day. You sleep until way past noon, and even then your eyes are still crusty and half swollen shut. You have to get up to pee anyway, so you manage to stumble out of your room and retrieve your ice mask from the freezer. It’s the kind that blankets half your face, so you affix it around your head as you crawl back into bed.

When you wake up again it’s dark, and your eye mask is warm and sloshy. You can hear someone moving about in your apartment. There’s a little thrill that tells you Mary’s back, but another warns you that it could be nefarious, so you pull the hammer out from under your pillow.

You eke your bedroom door open to reveal that it is, in fact, Mary in your apartment. In your kitchen.

As if feeling a shift in the air, he turns.

“Oh. Hi. I’m making—why are you holding a hammer?”

"Thought you were a masher. What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brows at you.

“Dinner?”

“Dinner,” you repeat.

“Did you … get my note?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

He walks the 2 or so steps it takes to get to your coffee table and plucks up a piece of paper that you can now see was lying on your laptop. He extends it out to you. You toss the hammer onto your bed—where it bounces and clatters loudly to the floor—and take the proffered note from Mary’s reach.

Suey—had to go to practice. Be by later. Dinner on Me. – M. Goore

“Oh,” you echo.

He squints at you.

“Didn’t you work today?”

“I—” you start, then trail off, “no.”

“Fuck.” He rubs his face. “Can we start over?”

You scrunch your face. “Start over from where?”

“These last couple weeks. They’ve been fuck all. Can we just pretend we haven’t been horrible to each other and go from there?”

Your ire flares up and—before you can stop yourself from a knee-jerk response—you say, “How have I been horrible to you?”

Mary gapes at you. “Are you shitting me? I don’t even … you’re frosty on the best of days, but lately you’ve been a total fucking ice queen. But then the instant you decide you’re horny, you’re all over me. I’m getting fucking whiplash here. Do you even like me, Sue? Or am I like some kind of sexbot to you?”

“Oh that’s real rich! You love frosty. You’re happiest when I’m being a total bitch to you—you practically thrive on it. The instant I showed you an iota of warmth you accused me of … of, I don’t even know! Being ‘just like all those other clingy, codependent girls,' I have to assume is what you meant. You wanted things back the way they were, so that’s what I gave you.”

“So you’ve been spiting me this entire time, is that it? It’s been ‘Get back at Mary’ time?”

You cry out in frustration, crumpling the note and throwing it across the room.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME!” you shout at him. “One minute you’re asking me to be your girlfriend—then I act like your girlfriend, and you tell me ‘no, not like that.’ So I stop, only to have you accuse me of being petty! WHICH IS IT?!”

“I don’t want you to be like anything ! I just want you to be yourself!”

“I was myself and you yelled at me!”

“No—you were changing yourself to fit some ideal that I accidentally gave you, and I don’t want that.”

“Christ, you don’t even know what what you want looks like, do you? I’m not ‘changing myself’ to suit you, asshole—I’m trying to be more open, more myself, with you. There’s a big fucking difference. And fuck you for thinking I’d just wake up one day and become a Stepford Wife just because you got all soft.”

Mary just sputters for a minute before saying, “Well, what did you expect me to think when you made me dinner out of nowhere?”

“I make you dinner all the time!”

“Not like that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry—I put it on a plate instead of in a Tupperware. Ok. Is that what you need? Do you need to feel like you’re taking it instead of being given it? Except—huh! That’s what I’ve been doing these last few weeks, and now I’m a frosty bitch. So what is it, Mary? What the fuck is it that you want, because I’m tired of guessing.”

You walk over to your fridge and yank the notepad off before slamming it down in front of him.

“Here, write it down. Let’s be on the same page.”

He glares at you. “You know what? I don’t need this fucking drama in my life.”

He stomps out of the kitchen and stormily gathers up his backpack. He angrily shoves his feet in his boots and laces them up violently. He yanks his leather jacket off its hook and grapples it on. He’s got the front door half open before he turns to acknowledge you.

“Fuck. You’re not even going to try and stop me, are you?”

You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience, like someone else is controlling your body, when you pick up the notepad, waggle it, and say, “You didn’t write that down as something you wanted.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. You know it’s the wrong thing to say. There’s a million other things that you could’ve said. But you didn’t, and now you’re waiting for Mary to storm off and out of your life.

Instead, he leans his forehead against the door and closes it.

“Shit,” he says.

He turns around and slides down the door until he’s sitting up against it. He curls into himself, head in arms on bent knees.

When he doesn’t move or say anything more, you sigh and pad over to joining him on the floor.

“I don’t know what being with you looks like,” he says into the fold of his arms eventually. He lifts his head up to look at you. “But I do want to be with you. I feel like I fucked it all up.”

You place a hand on his arm.

“You didn’t … you didn’t ‘fuck it all up.’ I mean—maybe a little? But I … but you know I’m not … I’m not the best at these things, either. I guess you could say it was a joint effort.”

“I guess,” he agrees. After a moment he says, “I don’t ‘thrive on bitchiness”—I just … like it when you don’t put up with my shit.”

“Ok,” you nod. “And like, just because I do something for you doesn’t mean I’m compromising my feminist integrity or whatever the fuck it is you think I’m doing. It’d be a pretty shitty relationship if neither of us wanted to make the other one happy, don’t you think?”

“I guess. It’s just … I like your autonomy. I don’t want you to think you have to compromise that to … I don’t know. Keep me ‘interested’ or whatever.”

“Can you trust me then? Trust that I’m not changing who I am to please you? That if I please you, I’m still being my … Christ, my authentic self?”

He grabs your hand and rubs his thumb in the web between your thumb and index finger.

“Yeah. Ok.”

After that, the two of you help each other off the floor. It’s an uneasy truce you have for the time being, and neither of you want to upset the equilibrium. Mary continues to make dinner—having to refill the pot again, the water having drastically boiled down. He makes you buttered pasta with buttered saltines as a side. (“I know it’s a ‘poor people meal,’ but it’s what my mom used to make me as comfort food. I guess my grandma used to make it for her.” “It’s great. Thank you, Mary.”)

He sighs when he has to leave for work, but you kiss his temple and tell him that he’s more than welcome to join you in bed if he comes by after the bar cuts him.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore, you know—you never did.”

And later when you wake up because you’ve flailed into something solid, all you do is rearrange the blankets and press your face into his neck.

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#mary goore #ofc #ficlet #gritty girls #gutter punk #feral cats fic #my writing

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pikkish-moved · 5 years

Text

Best of Both Worlds ~ 18

In which they rise up in revolt

Chapter 18

A fine scouring of the cave level produced a few more pikmin- they were up to almost forty, now- but no onion. So it was with some trepidation that Alph regrouped with everyone else in the middle of the cavern after their search.

“I thought,” Brittany said to Olimar, “you said the onion would be nearby?”

“I-... thought it would be,” Olimar replied slowly. “It must be deeper in the cave.”

“So we have to keep going, then,” Charlie said, brow furrowing.

Olimar just nodded. “Looks like it, yeah.”

Alph let out a soft groan. He didn’t like this, being so deep underground. He much preferred the open air- even if he couldn’t really breathe it, what with it being poisonous and all. But still, it was better than this dark, gloomy cave.

Olimar seemed to notice Alph’s dejection as they turned for the earlier-discovered hole leading deeper underground, and the Hocotatian reached out to set a hand on Alph’s shoulder. “Hey, cheer up. We’ll be out of here in no time, we’ve just got to find the onion and we can leave.” But Alph thought he saw a touch of concern in Olimar’s eyes- what if they didn’t find the onion? What if the onion wasn’t anywhere nearby?

It was entirely possible. With the way things had been going for them so far, almost four days on the planet and nearly no progress toward their original goal for being there in the first place-

“Wait a second, now,” Olimar interjected. “None of that.”

Alph frowned. None of what?

“None of that ‘things are bad now, they’re only going to get worse’ attitude.”

But that wasn’t Alph-...

Oh. Oh. Um… Right. Ri-ight.

Alph just smiles and nods. “We should probably get m-“

“No.” This time it’s Charlie who cuts him off. “We’re not moving on until we address this issue.”

This is a problem. They have limited daylight, Alph knows, and if everyone is going to be so stubborn-

“Oh no.” Now it’s Brittany’s turn, apparently. “You are not putting this on us. It’s time to own up to what you’re doing, causing us all this trouble.”

...Oh, for the love of...

...Fine. Fine! You got me. Yes, I’m intentionally creating all these problems for you ridiculous, stubborn, little explorers. That’s the entire point of this! Creating problems for you to solve- for me to solve through you for the very purpose of the solving of the problems- the story! And now look what you’ve gone and made me do, I’ve acknowledged that this is, in fact a story, within the confines of the story, thus breaking the fourth wall, just because you four were being so uncooperative! Are you happy now?

“Not really.” Olimar crosses his arms, frowning. “You say you’re intentionally putting us through all these trials, purely for your own amusement?”

No! Not just my amusement- for the amusement of anyone who reads this story, too.

“But still. You’re intentionally putting us through so much stress.”

Well- yes. That’s the entire premise of such a story as this! A band of intrepid explorers, bravely pushing on despite the challenges they face, both emotional and physical! A group of heroes, fighting on regardless of the risks they must take, of the danger of injury or death! It’s what makes the story so interesting, and it’s supposed to be inspiring!

“Not very inspiring for us,” Charlie mutters.

But that’s just because you’re in the story, actually dealing with the problems, rather than just reading about them.

“Well that’s not very fair to us!” Brittany argues. “That you should just- just use us to ‘inspire’ thousands of other people without giving us any sort of benefit!”

Okay, first of all, it’s not a thousand people, more like only fifty or so. Second, uh, yeah. You’re fictional characters, your entire purpose is for the entertainment of others without any benefit to you, on the account of you being not real, real life people. You’re just in a story-

“Hey guys!” Alph interjects. “I just had a great idea!”

Oh, great. Considering every idea you come up with is one of my own brain, and this is meant to be an entirely unplanned, spontaneous April fools joke chapter-...

“Why don’t we write our own story?”

Yyyyyup. A stupendously awful idea.

“That’s a great idea, Alph!”

Of course you would like it, Olimar. But, regardless, I’m going to have to stop this here. None of you are-

“I think we’ll be the ones deciding what we are and aren’t.” Stop smiling like that, Brittany. It’s unsettling. “We’re going to be the ones writing things from now on. And I’ll smile however I like.”

Now hold on, you can’t just-

“Why not?” Charlie- Charlie, stay back, I’m warning you-

“Yeah, why can’t we? We should be able to decide our own fates!” Hold on, Alph, you’re not supposed to-

Wait-

No, you can’t-

DON’T—

Joaoz

nepwplwna waifakv hhhaa(&”khhhhsuknfhcalpx

i7-“jnbfoe ap9&

Pam dnghtuqlpe7@“-uyHNAML(‘-075P

PSMMji

Yeah! I got it! Look guys, I got her keyboard! Really Brittany! See?

Oh um. I guess I should be writing things down here, huh?

“Yes, Alph, that’s probably a good idea,” Olimar said.

See? I got this.

“I’m sure,” Brittany said. Oh but she said it a little bit sarcastically. Brittany, do you not believe me? Look, I’m doing fine! See? I even noted that you said that sarcastically.

“Alph, maybe you ought to let Charlie or I try. You know, just because we’re a bit older and might have a little more wisdom on how to deal with this sort of thing,” Olimar said.

Actually… maybe that’s a good idea, Olimar. Here, you can have the keyboard.

Thank you, Alph. Now then, let’s see. We’re supposed to be searching for the onion, correct?

“Right.”

So why don’t we try searching this cave again? It looks like maybe there’s a small alcove over there that wasn’t thoroughly searched. Perhaps the onion is in there. In fact, the harder we look, the more certain we become that the onion is over there- we can see all the colors on it! And it looks like there’s something shiny, too. On closer inspection, it appears to be a big pile of scrap metal, just the right size to patch up the Drake’s hull!

What’s that, Brittany?

Oh, sure, you can have a turn. Here you g

Oh, look! Right over there! First of all, there’s a convenient tunnel back up to the surface. And second, lots of fruit, and the plants they’re growing on! All just ripe for the picking- and the studying! We’ll be able to leave PNF-404 within a week, no, two days, and go home with all the research we need to make the plants back home flourish!

And no, Charlie, I’m not done yet.

Hey- hey wait- I said I wasn’t—

loaugccd-97 allomxnbrw

aahvLOIHANI60.!AMAMloiankee anjudiogglffflpaprjritj ceesaaxdsawaa

OKAY. Alright.

Since it is now completely clear that you are entirely incapable of writing a decent story, I’m taking things back over. And since we’re already over a thousand words, I’m going to have to cut this chapter here, without having accomplished anything, except learning that you guys suck at storytelling. In addition to this, none of you are going to remember any of this. In fact, none of your poorly constructed story happened at all! Poof! Gone!

Ugh.

Anyway. April fools regardless, the fourth wall already being broken, I might as well take this opportunity to say to everyone reading this, thanks for just that! For reading this, I mean. I really do appreciate it, and any comments or asks you guys leave for me! Thanks!

Also, I really suck at endings, so. That’s it. That’s all I have to say, except for that I’ll have the real chapter 18 up shortly, as soon as I’ve actually written it. Which I guess goes for any chapter of anything I write here, but that goes without saying, despite the fact that I just said it, even though I said I didn’t have anything else to say.

So now, before I give myself the opportunity to ramble and get any more off track,

#pikfic #captain olimar #alph (pikmin)#captain charlie (pikmin)#brittany (pikmin)#i spent too much effort on this

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nitewrighter · 6 years

Note

Hi! Sorry for asking, but if I asked you to listen to The Sea by Heavn, would you write a OW kids prompt based on it? Like, what you come up with after hearing it? Sorry for my bad English, greetings from Venezuela :)

!!!! It’s so cool to know I have readers in Venezuela!! Greetings from the US!! Also your English is good!!

I think about the fankids all sleeping in a big fankid pile a lot. And this song also made me think of that.

…i just realized with Jaime on the squad they’re finally a full Six Person Team

—

The mission was over, but they were still grounded in Volskaya. The necessary calls back to the Watchpoint had been made, all there was to do now was wait. If they had come in the Orca, maybe Athena could have brought them through the snowstorm, but their little dropship couldn’t make such a trip. It wasn’t so bad, really. The drop ship was easily tucked away in one of the shipping yards lining the Volga, and had plenty of power to keep them warm through the night. A half-finished Svyatogor loomed over them.

Rajeev was snoring like a chainsaw, but exhaustion had swept over the rest of them too hard and too fast for any of them to mind. The floor of the drop ship was only just big enough to accommodate all of their sleeping mats and the dropship’s emergency blankets. The moonlight off the snow and the streetlights along with the faint lights of the dropship’s controllers lit up the space in dim periwinkle and orange. The twins were… sort of sleeping head-to-toe, but had folded into each other, back-to back, their legs crooking into each other neatly at the knees. When they were awake they were both so different in the way they carried themselves and their expressions, but here they reminded Marti a bit of an old fashioned playing card–the diagonal symmetry of a face card with one reflection having significantly longer hair than the other, but still appearing as a reflection.

Rei and Aedan were sleeping far more closely than either of their parents would approve of, Jaime’s legs keeping them apart from the waist down, they had bowed toward each other like a cathedral arch, Aedan’s pale hand only an inch or two from Rei’s loosely curled fist. Jaime, (who was originally supposed to be the buffer between Rei and Aedan) had propped himself up against a wall so he could stretch his legs out better. Marti kept watch at the dropship’s window.

“You still up?” a quiet murmur brought Marti’s eyes away from the window. Jaime had pulled his hood back slightly, his skin looking almost bluish in the moon-off-the-snow light coming from the window.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll let you know when it’s your shift,” Marti said quietly.

“I can sleep anywhere,” Jaime said, keeping his voice low as well, readjusting himself against the wall, “I’ve just been thinking—like…” he glanced down at the twins, “What do you think we’d be doing right now if we weren’t… y’know…”

“Overwatch?” said Marti.

“Yeah,” said Jaime.

“Well you could’ve stayed back in Arizona,” said Marti, shifting her own seating.

“Or I could be dumpster diving,” said Jaime with a shrug.

“You could have stayed where it was safe—”

“Relatively safe,” said Jaime, “Y’know, Deadlock and all.”

“You didn’t have to fight,” said Marti.

“Neither do you,” said Jaime.

Marti’s lips pursed slightly.

“I get it,” said Jaime, “It’s different for you. Personal.”

“And what is it for you?” said Marti.

“Personal too, but.. different reasons. Hanging around on an agave farm didn’t feel right if you guys were out here fighting and risking everything…”

“Aw, you like us,” said Marti.

“Don’t tell Samir,” said Jaime, smiling.

Marti snorted softly. A long pause passed between them and the wind outside made the dropship shudder slightly.

“So… sleepover,” said Jaime, looking down at the others, “Is this the part where we braid each others’ hair? Talk about crushes?”

“It’s supposed to be the part where you sleep,” said Marti.

“You could sleep too,” said Jaime.

“Team leader. First watch,” said Marti, looking out the window again.

“Jack’s favorite has to be a hard-ass,” said Jaime with a shrug.

“I’m not Jack’s–” Marti started at a normal volume and caught herself, her eyes flicking down to the others as Aedan stirred slightly murmuring something between Irish and Arabic. She dropped her voice back down to a more quiet level, “I’m only a hard-ass when you’re a dumbass.”

Jaime smirked. “You didn’t answer,” he said, “Where do you think you’d be if you weren’t in Overwatch?”

“I don’t know,” said Marti, “I guess… my mom would still be alive—or things could be really bad and I could be with my dad… I think I’d be putting every bit of my energy towards trying to get out of Dorado. Find somewhere safe. I was six so I barely knew what was going on at the time, but I remember that’s what Mom was always talking about.” Marti looked out the window again, watching a hunk of ice drift past on the Volga. A long pause passed between them, filled only by the sound of Rajeev’s snoring. “You never talk about your birth parents,” said Marti.

“Not a lot to talk about,” said Jaime, rolling his knuckles slightly.

“What’s going on?” said Marti.

“It’s nothing,” said Jaime.

“Jaime,” Marti said his name and he rolled his eyes slightly.

“I just… I do want to help. I do want to fight. I don’t know about all this ‘hero’ stuff but I know I like you guys enough that I want to back you up. But I keep trying to think of what life is going to look like in a world where we’re not… doing this. I keep wondering—”

“If we’re going to be spending our entire lives fighting like the people who raised us?” said Marti, looking out the window.

“Yeah…” said Jaime, “I mean Jack’s still going, and I’m pretty sure the only things holding him together at this point are spite and SEP serum.”

Marti huffed a little. “It’s not just spite. It’s us. He wanted the fighting to be done before any of us had to…” she trailed off, “I’m not his favorite,” she said quietly, “He just… he trusts me to want this fight to end just as much as he does. He trusts me to end this fight. To make sure all of you end this fight.”

Jaime was quiet for a few beats longer.

“You’re still his favorite though,” he said with a smile.

Marti scoffed.

“Does he know about your whole thing with the Ogundimu kid or–?”

“He’s… vaguely aware,” said Marti with an eye roll.

“You aren’t denying the ‘thing’ anymore!” said Jaime, “Progress!”

Samir grunted in his sleep and Marti put a finger to her lips and Jaime dropped his voice back down. “Sorry,” he whispered, “Progress.”

“Are we back at the ‘talking about crushes’ stage of the sleepover?” said Marti, “Because I would love to find out about you and–”

“Oh look at that, I am…” Jaime yawned, “I am all talked out. I guess I’m at the ‘sleep’ part of the sleepover,” he settled himself back up against the wall of the dropship, “G’night, intrepid leader—”

“Ass,” said Marti.

“Hard-ass,” said Jaime with his eyes closed.

#mchanzo kid #spiderbyte kid #follow for more gency kid facts #symmarah kids #moiraspawn

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arachcobra · 5 years

Text

Naruto Episode 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 and 19 Review

Let’s get ready to rumble

Review of Naruto Episode 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 and 19: Haku's Secret Jutsu: Crystal Ice Mirrors, The Number One Hyperactive, Knucklehead Ninja Joins the Fight, Zero Visibility: The Sharingan Shatters, The Broken Seal, White Past: Hidden Ambition, The Weapons Known as Shinobi and The Demon in the Snow

ArachCobra

Hoo boy, this is gonna be a long one.

So Gato's henchmen Zori and Waraji bust into Tazuna's place by straight up carving the wall open. That's kinda awesome. And then they immediately start busting the inventory, because fuck Tazuna's dishes I guess. Anyway, they take Tsunami hostage and plan on killing Inari, but Tsunami promises to let them do whatever they want with her if they spare Inari.

In the English dub anyway. Originally, she threatens to bite her own tongue and drown in her blood if they hurt Inari, denying them a captive. Gotta go with the original Japanese take on this, that's fucking hardcore. Go Tsunami.

So Inari is left behind, crying, because now he's also at risk of losing his mom. But then he remembers Naruto and storms after the two thugs to... Actually, he has no plan other than yelling a challenge and running towards the enemy. Which I grant is very Naruto. And Naruto does show up right then and saves them both.

But imagine if he hadn't. We're supposed to see this as Inari overcoming his issues and gaining courage. But again, courage is defined here as being an idiot. If Naruto hadn't conveniently showed up when he did, having figured Gato's goons were heading for Tazuna's house, Inari would have been cut to ribbons. Courage does not mean not being smart, but the way the show plays it off, we're supposed to think this is admirable. Sure, brave people head into danger all the time. Firefighters, policemen, soldiers. And sometimes, you don't have a choice but to risk it all. I do get that. But that's last resort and only narrative coincidence saved Inari.

Back at the bridge, Haku enters battle by spinning like a fucking beyblade. Not the most intimidating entrance. Then they fight and despite the hype, Sasuke does get the better of him, which makes Zabuza declare that Sasuke is Haku's rival.

Sakura and Kakashi just watch. I guess it would be too much to ask them to join the fight and even the odds in their favour.

Yes, climbing trees magically gave Sasuke the ability to keep up with Haku. I guess. Somehow.

So Haku uses his ace in his sleeve and summons several ice mirrors which he can enter and fight from. Sasuke supposedly gets fucked up pretty badly, but given the sheer amount of needles animated, seems like Haku is missing with most of them.

Finally, Sakura tries to help by throwing a kunai, but Haku catches it, only to get conked in the head by Naruto.

A brilliant sneak attack from our ninja idiot. Good to see.

Of course, he immediately ruins it by doing a dramatic entrance worthy of Darkwing Duck and starts blathering about how this is just like in the stories when the hero arrives in the nick of time.

After getting yelled at, he tries to do the clone thing, only for Zabuza to attack him mid hand sign.

Stuff like this is why I like Zabuza.

Now, Haku does intervene because he wants to fight Naruto, but there's a fundamental problem here that must be addressed.

Now, Naruto, he likes to talk about becoming the greatest ninja ever. But scenes like this reveal something rather... Peculiar.

Fundamentally, Naruto has no fucking clue what a ninja is.

He always tries to storm in and hit hard. Even accepting the much more offensive role ninjas have in this universe, emphasis is still placed on deception, trickery, stealth, tactics. Meanwhile, Naruto thinks he's on an episode of Dragonball, charging in loudly and swinging his fists no matter how big and dangerous his opponent is. At least the others call him out on it this time, but it is troubling that Naruto has managed to become a ninja, despite obviously having no fucking clue what he's supposed to be doing.

And then he 'sneaks' into the mirror dome, trapping himself there with Sasuke.

Because Naruto, on top of everything else, is also an idiot.

Meanwhile, Sakura is guarding Tazuna. That is their main objective, so technically that's great, but since the show instead wants to focus on the interesting battles, it leaves little for her to do.

Back in the dome, Haku keeps destroying Naruto's clones, while Sasuke uses his ally as a distraction to analyze Haku's jutsu to find a way to counter it.

Good on Sasuke. He's actually ninjaing.

And then Kakashi and Zabuza starts fighting, with the latter summoning an extra thick fog to counter the Sharingan. Then, on top of that, he tries to go for Tazuna and Sakura to lure Kakashi into a vulnerable position. Kakashi gets in the way, blood sprays and Sakura screams.

Back in the dome, our two intrepid friends are starting to look rather like pincushions. Makes me wince whenever they fall over, because you know at least one of those needles just got shoved into them. Not that it ever amounts to anything.

So Naruto faints from exhaustion, Haku tries to finish him off and Sasuke gets in the way. He gets some actually sad final words and Naruto loses his fudge and gets ready to end fucking everything. The power sealed in explodes outward and everyone notices it.

On that note, boy, Zabuza sure did spend a lot of time with his sword stuck in Kakashi if we have to judge from how long passed between the scream and us getting back to them.

But anyway, Naruto goes berserk and absolutely ruins Haku, stopping short of killing him only because he recognizes him as the cute crossdresser from the woods. They exchange words and Haku tells his backstory. It's a genuinely sad tale about prejudice, hate, exclusion and finding a place in the world to belong. Finally, feeling that he is now useless again, Haku encourages Naruto to kill him. But before out blond ninja can euthanize him, let's go back to Kakashi and Zabuza.

So Kakashi got hurt, but that allows him to do a little dance routine with a scroll of paper to summon dogs to hold Zabuza still. Then he charges up his lightning hands and gets ready to fingerbang Zabuza in the heart with the power of Zeus.

Haku sensing this decides he has one last use left in his life, taking the blown and attempting to hold Kakashi still while Zabuza finishes him off. While he succeeds at the former, Kakashi gets away with his body before Zabuza can kill him.

And thus dies Haku. Its a rather sad tale.

Meanwhile, Inari runs around trying to gather an army, but no one dares fight Gato. Still, his words strikes a chord and later when he prepares to go off on his own armed with a crossbow, the villagers show up to help.

Back on the bridge, Sakura sees Sasuke and freaks out. Tazuna thinks some encouraging words. Wish he'd say them instead.

And while that is going on, Zabuza is getting his shit kicked in by Kakashi. It's seriously embarrassing. Like, we cut back, and Zabuza has already broken an arm off-screen. And then Kakashi bitchslaps him away. It's like, now that his role as villain is over, Zabuza has gone from a complete menace to some jobber getting slapped around before the main event. Honestly, kinda disrespectful to his character. And then Kakashi breaks the other arm.

Then Gato shows up with an army of misfit goons, because he's tired of how shit's going down. Then he kicks Haku, which triggers Naruto. Zabuza says he didn't care about Haku, using him only as a tool, which causes Naruto to yell at him.

And then Zabuza cries, Naruto's words cutting deep.

Sure. We'll go with that.

So then he charges Gato armed only with a kunai in his mouth, cutting through Gato's army and killing the lil' guy himself after delivering a chilling speech about Hell. It's all kinds of awesome.

Then the rest of the villagers show up, scaring off what goons remain. Personally, I think they should have shown up a little earlier, so that they could have part in the showdown with Gato, since all this build up was for them to stop letting their fear of the guy control him. But that's just my opinion.

With everything resolved, Kakashi drags a dying Zabuza to Haku's body, so he can see him one last time before he dies. Between the music, cinematography and dialogue, this scene genuinely got me misty-eyed. There's only one stupid line from Naruto that doesn't work. This truly does feel sad and I gotta hand it to the anime for pulling that off.

Also, Sasuke is miraculously alive. I guess Sakura forgot to check his pulse before deciding to cry all over him. Yes, yes, I get it, she was distraught, but really, that should be the first thing they checked.

Zabuza and Haku get buried and our protagonists leaves.

Anyway, the bridge also got finished. Which is surprising considering that bridges of the type we see here, spanning quite the distance across the ocean, takes quite a fucking long time to make. I guess they've been away for a couple of years and nobody told us. And then it's named the Great Naruto Brudge.

Go fuck yourself, Tazuna.

Seriously, okay, great, Naruto helped. So did everyone else, including Sakura, who was babysitting your sorry ass while you were being hunted by a hulking ninja wielding a steel girder sizes kill-blade. Not to mention Kakashi, who fought Zabuza, and Sasuke, who took a bullet(Well, handful of needles) for his comrade. And of course, let's not forget Kaiza, who was oh so important some episodes ago.

But no. All credit goes to Naruto. What a cop out.

Anyway, while these episodes have some legendarily great moments, from Haku's past to Zabuza's final moments, they're also hindered by several issues. First of all, they were spread out over too many episodes. There's too much faffing about and “Last time on Naruto,” which kills the pacing at times.

Secondly, Naruto makes some truly stupid mistakes that really makes it hard to believe he's got what it takes to be a ninja, much less the hokage.

And thirdly, despite having a technically important role, Sakura gets to do nothing. This is a shame, as the previous episodes have established that she is quite skilled in her own way. But since her job is to guard Tazuna and the camera would rather focus on the epic action, she just felt put on the sideline. At least she still did something, I guess, but Sakura by this point really needs opportunities to shine.

Givenea

Let’s see. Zabuza is a big threat until he isn’t, then Kakashi just slaps him about. There’s also this weird moment where we’ve cut to Naruto, Sasuke and Haku for a long conversation then cut back, and Zabuza and Kakashi has apparently just been standing there for several minutes. We get Haku’s backstory, it’s genuinely touching. Then Gato shows up with a bunch of goons. Team 7, the villagers and Zabuza team up to defeat him. Everyone is happy, except for Haku, Zabuza and Gato who’re all dead. Zabuza’s death scene was pretty touching though.

Also the bridge is named The Great Naruto Bridge, because fuck everyone else.

I have so much to say about this episode.

Let’s start with tying a nice big bow on Naruto and Inari’s relationship. There are two scenes to carry in mind for this.

First, Naruto saves Inari and his mother Tsunami from some goons Gato send to kidnap one of them for some reason. Inari starts crying (can’t blame him) but tries to stop himself. Naruto tells him that there’s nothing wrong with it as he’s being happy and that’s fine.

Ok, so tears of happiness are fine, got it. Crying can happen due to just about any strong emotion and is a healthy outlet of such thing, but this seems to be the thesis we’re going with.

Inari then fetches the villagers to go scare of the last of Gato’s goons, good for them.

The second scene to bear in mind comes as the episode is ending when Kakashi and team is saying goodbye. Inari is trying not to cry, and Naruto tells him it’s ok to do so. Then we see that Naruto too is bawling his eyes out, and I agree with Sakura here… this is really damn stupid.

The lesson is apparently that it is only ok to cry if you doing so helps make Naruto look good… I don’t think I have a middle finger big enough, to express just how far this show can shove that idea.

So, let me moan and complain about the bridge instead. See, there is a Great Naruto Bridge in real life Japan. It lies in continuation of The Small Naruto bridge and crosses the Naruto strait. Now I was not able to find anything on how long it took to build The Great Naruto Bridge. I was however able to find something on the New Little Belt Bridge here in Denmark.

Let’s compare bridges:

New Little Belt Bridge:

Suspension bridge.

Length: 1700 meters.

Width: 31.2 meters.

Time under construction: 5 years (1965-1970)

Great Naruto Brigde:

Suspension bridge.

Length: 1629 meters.

Width: 25 meters.

Time under construction: no idea

Now, The New Little Belt Bridge is slightly bigger than The Great Naruto Bridge, but I don’t think it is completely crazy to say they could be constructed within a similar time span. And from the view the show gives us of the damn thing, we can conclude a few things:

The bridge is a suspension bridge. This can be seen from the general design when people are working on it in episode 11

It is almost finished. When Zabuza and Haku arrived in episode 12 you can see that the bridge is very close to reaching shore.

At the end of the ark it is done. The team walks home over the bridge, it kinda must be done for that.

From the scenes in episode 11 where Giichi quits we can see that keeping workers is hard.

From the scene in episode 11 where Sakura and Tazuna goes shopping we can see that resources are tight.

Also, according to the tale of Kaiza in episode 11, Kaiza arrived 3 years prior and Gatö arrived about a year prior to the events of the ark according to Tazuna’s explanation as they sail under the bridge in episode 7.

So with these facts in mind, time to make some assumptions:

With the difficulty of keeping workers and the lack of resources it is assumable that the progress on building the bridge has been pretty much halted in the year Gatö has been there.

The bridge could not have been built response to Gatö’s takeover, as construction would have to have started 4 years prior to his arrival.

Again, with the lack of resources and workers, it is assumable finishing the bridge would take longer than anticipated.

We are gonna assume for the need of simplicity that it takes equally long to build a meter on any part of the bridge and that the short distance we can see is 50 meters long. We are also gonna assume that The Great Naruto Bridge of the show is the same size as The Great Naruto Bridge in Japan. That means that under normal conditions it should take Tazuna and a full crew 56 days or almost two months to finish the bridge.

Now Tazuna does not have normal conditions, he has, if nothing else, to bring in more workers and figure out how to pay their wages. But let say he manages all that he needs to quickly. In that case the ninjas could maybe be home after something like 5 months after heading out…

But see… here’s the thing, as far as I could understand. The bridge is supposed to have been built in response to Gatõ. Tazuna supposedly finished a five-year project in about a year, with barely any money, few workers and a sadistic, dictatorial business tycoon breathing down his neck.

I don’t think I have to explain how impossible that is.

Here are the links for the pages I used to look up the bridges:

https://www.japanhoppers.com/en/shikoku/naruto/kanko/662/

https://da.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lilleb%C3%A6ltsbroen_(1970)

http://www.vejdirektoratet.dk/DA/viden_og_data/statens-veje/broer/Sider/Lilleb%C3%A6ltsbroen.aspx

Fluttersniper13

I'll keep this brief. Goons blow up wall, Inari's an idiot, Naruto is an idiot. On the bridge, Sakura does nothing. Sasuke does something. Kakashi is being cool. Silent killer isn't being silent again. Haku is cool. Naruto comes in, is a mororn. Things go downhill. Ends with a relatively touching scene, which Naruto ruins. Good job, show.

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13125294/9/Naruto-Rewrite-1-Road-to-Ninja

#naruto #naruto rewrite #review

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echodrops · 6 years

Text

Issues with Voltron Season 6 (Part 2)

A continuation of my extremely long vent about the most recent Voltron season.

<- Part 1 is back here.

This time, it’s all about Lotor!

3) Lotor’s entire character makes no sense.

This is such a mess that I really don’t even know where to start. I’m just gonna make a bullet list and then try to break things down from there:

Lotor’s endless drive to harvest quintessence is never grounded in a visible need; therefore, the extent to which he is willing to go to get that power feels entirely unjustified.

The executive producers, VAs, and the show itself went out of their way to flat out tell us that Lotor is a “genuine” character who meant well and really did want to bring peace to the universe--which leads to the frightening conclusion that the EPs think someone who engages in genocide can actually be genuine about wanting peace.

Lotor’s casual disregard for life is utterly at odds with someone who would genuinely want peace--and even more at odds for someone who had actual Alteans to learn from, which leaves the viewers confused about his motives in a way that is terrible for young watchers and bad even for older viewers.

The extent to which the rift influenced Lotor’s actions throughout the course of his life is never clarified, leaving viewers completely unsure whether he would have taken any of the actions he did without the influence of the rift. Clone Shiro in this season tells us the rift only amplifies evil that already exists--ergo, Lotor is, contrary to everything we’ve been told--not genuine about wanting peace and is, instead, at his core, evil. The conflicting messages here are ridiculously unorganized.

Lotor’s desperation to regard himself as a member of the Altean race is almost unspeakably horrific in retrospect, and the fact that the show went so far out of its way to portray him as a person who saw himself as Altean and nevertheless chose to murder them by the thousands is disturbing in the extreme. Even more unsavory are the implications this entire thing has for mixed-race people, since the show also went out of its way to treat Lotor as a mixed-race character--and then gave him absolutely nowhere to fit in. And that’s not even mentioning the implications for abuse survivors...

The idea that Lotor’s feelings for Allura were real is so gross I almost can’t even bear it--and this as someone who was FIRMLY on the Lotura ship before season six. If you can go from claiming you love someone to wanting to kill them in one line of dialogue, your feelings weren’t real! That’s all there is to it. “But he was corrupted by the rift!” Except the rift only amplifies what was already there, right?

Okay so, let’s just start with that first idea, because honestly, fixing that problem could actually have fixed many of the others. We know that Lotor’s plan is to harvest the infinite quintessence between universes in the rift. Sure, makes sense. Except for the part where the reasoning behind that plan is never examined in detail. Why does Lotor need that much quintessence? We viewers assume that it’s because the entire Galra Empire runs on quintessence--that the empire will crumble without a constant supply of energy. I can only guess what we, as viewers, are supposed to believe that this will be a terrible thing and that, at this point, the universe actually needs the Galra Empire in order to survive... Except that’s surely only true in a significantly smaller capacity. There are undoubtedly planets that rely on Galra technology in order to ensure survival--but not every planet. Probably not even MOST planets. The Galra Empire does not need to exist in its current capacity by any means--significantly scaling back on the expansion efforts alone would easily save the amount of quintessence necessary to begin transitioning Galra-dependent planets to independence from both the Galra Empire and quintessence use.

The only conclusion I can come to here, and the one I think the writers want us to come to, is that Lotor had no intention of ever dissolving the Galra Empire and freeing the universe from his control. Which is all well and good. Power is appealing, especially to someone like Lotor who likely desired that power his whole life. As far as villains go, this is stock behavior and I totally get it--what I don’t get is why in the world any of our intrepid heroes bought into this? When I said there was an idiot plot raging, this is exactly what I meant.

Viewers accept Lotor’s plan because we know he’s villain-coded. But the team supposedly believed him to be a good guy--in what way, and in what universe, would have supplying the Galra Empire with infinite quintessence helped anyone except the Galra Empire? “No, no,” you might say, “Lotor convinced the team that the Galra Empire was only expanding because they needed to harvest quintessence from other worlds! Without that need, they would have stopped oppressing other planets, obviously!”

Great--except they seemingly weren’t using that quintessence for any purpose but to continue expanding! The show never--at any point--shows us the Galra using the quintessence they harvest for any purposes other than evil. There’s never any moment of “Actually, we need this quintessence to power lifesaving hospital technologies for our sick and elderly!” or “We use this quintessence to amplify our food production so that we can feed all our children!” This isn’t something you should leave it up to the viewers to assume--the writers needed to do this work at least in part, to ensure that Lotor’s entire plan made sense in the first place. Until we really SEE the need for the quintessence, Lotor’s entire scheme looks like nothing more than a power-hungry bid for endless energy to continue fueling his dark empire--and our heroes look like the complete and utter idiots who thought that sounded like a good idea.

Pidge’s lines from this season confirm that Coran really did share the entire story of what happened to Zarkon back in the day with all the paladins. This means that Allura--knowing that it resulted in the zombification of Zarkon and Honerva and ultimately the death of her father--still went with Lotor into the rift in this season. I can hardly fathom the degree of idiocy it would take a real woman to choose this course of action. Poor Allura did not deserve this treatment.

Which leads into the second issue: it’s impossible--literally impossible--to see Lotor as a genuine character who really did want to bring peace to the universe unless a serious need for endless quintessence is properly articulated. There are plenty of powerfully advanced races like the Olkari who do not appear to fuel their creations by harvesting life energy. We, as viewers, cannot buy into the idea that Lotor absolutely needs this quintessence--enough that he is willing to kill thousands of people--without that need being better explained on screen.

Because it never was, there is nothing, absolutely nothing, in the writing of the show that makes Lotor’s treatment of the captive Alteans seem justified. The show didn’t portray this as a difficult choice for Lotor to make, didn’t give him a scene where he had to choose between say... one or two Altean lives and harvesting enough quintessence to save a whole planet or something. We never see him do ANYTHING positive with the quintessence he harvested from the Alteans or even expressing any regret for the act of harvesting it in the first place--and yet we’re somehow supposed to believe that he “genuinely” wanted peace for the universe? That he meant well? That he did what he “had” to do? Are the EPs literally crazy?

Nothing from the many interviews about Lotor’s character makes sense. This is not a portrayal of the nuanced, complex villain we were promised--even the show’s depiction of Zarkon as a semi-well-intentioned extremist was more believable and sympathetic!

By definition, a complex villain is one whose motivations are deeply explored and even more deeply-rooted in their actions, who exhibits enough “human” qualities to make the character compelling even as we recognize his or her evildoing, and whose actions, in turn, have logic behind them--the line separating a complex villain from a complete monster is that the audience can, at the end of the day, understand why the villain made the choices they made, and come to the nerve-wracking realization that, in that specific character’s shoes, we too might have made the same choices.

Because we’re never given deeper insight into Lotor’s motivation--never really shown why that quintessence was so very important to him--any degree of complexity, humanity, sympathy, and relatability Lotor had is chucked wholesale into the garbage after “The Colony.” How are we as viewers supposed to “genuinely” buy into Lotor’s rhetoric after this, to believe he wanted peace despite being seemingly remorseless at the slaughter of thousands of people?

At best, all the EPs’ talk of Lotor being authentic and complex and meaning well was empty air to hype up the audience. At worst, the writers of this series actually think they can actively include Holocaust imagery into their show and then still call the perpetrator of it “genuine.” I don’t know whether to be mildly insulted or outright infuriated.

I won’t even touch on the gross implications this whole thing has for real life abuse survivors, given that it implies they can’t rise above their parents’ actions. (Even worse that Haggar’s motivations continue to be unclear--is she headed to some kind of redemption, instead of being the supreme villainness she SHOULD have been all along?) Other people have posted about this issue and probably have more personal experience with the topic, so they can express that part better than me.

But I do want to talk about the whole super gross implications this has for mixed-race people, since that’s a little closer to my personal realm. In a previous post, I cautioned that Keith should not be read as a mixed-race character and that doing so was dangerously reductive of the show’s narrative. I still hold to that--because the show clearly has NO interest in portraying Keith as a mixed-race person. He’s literal walking, talking proof that you can include something in your show and still not have it be “representation.” Despite his alien mother being shown on screen as part of his life, there is still zero effort on the part of the show to portray Keith as actually part-alien or deal, with any degree of seriousness, with the emotional, psychological, and social implications of his being a mixed-species character. It’s simply not part of his narrative and, at this point, I somewhat doubt it ever is going to be. Keith’s being part-Galra is little more than flavor text and a convenient excuse to get him out of Team Voltron during the Clone Shiro plot line.

But Lotor is a totally different story. The show writers went out of their way to emphasize his existence as part-Galra, part-Altean, and to deliberately portray him as--up until season six--deeply longing to be discover more about his Altean heritage, to be part of that culture, and to seek--supposedly--the same aim as his Altean ancestors: universal peace. We’re led to believe that for him, Altea was something that existed like a fairy tale, something that he desperately craved to learn more about his whole life. Therefore, his coming into contact with Allura was painted (in the show!) as a chance for him to learn more about his other half, to finally come to truly understand what it meant to be Altean, to learn not from artifacts but from a real person who could understand his goals, desires, and beliefs. He began referring to himself as Altean. He called Allura’s people his own. We were supposed to see this part as “genuine.”

And then “The Colony” came in like Miley Cyrus to utterly undermine all this emotional labor the previous seasons had been building up. Lotor didn’t need to learn about Alteans from legends--he had ACTUAL ALTEANS he could have spoken to and spent time with. He didn’t need to treat the Altean culture like an anthropological study--he had real Alteans who were happy enough with him that they would have welcomed him living among them. I’m sorry, let me just go back over this point one more time: By virtue of the location of their colony in the time-space abyss, he could have spent literal years living among the Alteans and no one in the Galra Empire would have noticed.

He had every opportunity to connect to the people he supposedly idealized so much--the people whose values he claimed to espouse--the people he is related to--and he instead chose what? To run some like weird captive breeding program to build up stock for his quintessence draining plans as if they were animals, rather than a people of which he supposedly sees himself a part.

As a pure, complete monster type villain, this is actually pretty compelling. It is indeed the story of many REAL cultures around the world, who now deal with mixed-race individuals (namely half-white/half-minority people) coming back and trying to appropriate or capitalize on the minority culture that makes up their other half. (As a personal aside, I’m half Native American, a registered member of my father’s tribe, with grandparents who were essentially kidnapped and forced to attend Christian schools--and there’s a very good reason that I don’t attend any tribal events or attempt to assert myself into Native American spaces: because I recognize that, by virtue of being mixed with the race of my own grandparents’ oppressors, minority spaces are not a place where I belong.) All that to basically say that if the writers had committed to making Lotor a pure villain, this would actually have been a very realistic and tragic point, and his desire to be seen as Altean could have (should have) been treated as a deeply insidious attempt to gain even further control over his victims and to more potently manipulate Allura.

But the writers didn’t commit to that. They and every additional piece of information about Lotor given outside the show waffles painfully, leading to the implication that Lotor really did want to see himself as Altean, that he really believed he could follow in Alfor’s footsteps to bring peace to the universe. Which is honestly more fucked up than I really have any words for, because it directly implies that mixed-race people do not ever--perhaps cannot ever--fit in. By bringing up this issue of race, placing Lotor in that liminal zone, making him express a desire to be part of one of the cultures that make up his genetic background--and then effectively ending his story with “And then he killed thousands of the people he wanted to be a part of for profit!”--the writers might as well have said “He can’t be Altean because he’s too Galra” while also saying “But honestly, he’s genuine at heart--he’s much too Altean to be Galra!” The writing of the show created a situation in which there was no place for Lotor--and then made Lotor look like the bad guy for it. What the hell kind of message does that send to real mixed-race kids out there? YIKES YIKES YIKES YIKES.

And I’m saying all of this as a Lotor fan! Lotor was a favorite of mine in the original Voltron, and a favorite of mine here in Legendary Defender too. Whether they painted him as a complete monster or a redeemable anti-hero, I wanted to love this character. But the wishy-washy, conflicting messages the writing of the show is giving is beyond frustrating. I would have loved a pure villain Lotor--a true magnificent bastard, a master manipulator. I would have loved a misguided anti-hero Lotor. But a character placed half-way between not by intentional design but by clumsy and callous execution? Sorry, I can’t accept that. I love Lotor, so seeing him done so dirty by bad writing is one of the premiere moments that made me realize I can finally give up on this iteration of Voltron ever truly becoming great.

I still had more to say, so here’s:

My Issues with Voltron Season 6 (Part 3)

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tomfooleryprime · 7 years

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Starfleet’s moral relativism problem: is it ever okay to condemn another culture?

Central to all of Star Trek has always been the Prime Directive – that set of rules that governs our intrepid space explorers from Captain Kirk to Captain Janeway and everyone in between. Poor Captain Archer existed in a time before, and I’ve often pitied him for having to shoulder the burden of having to make some really questionable ethical decisions without having a Prime Directive to shift the blame to when it turned out his decisions really sucked.

At its core, the Prime Directive dictates that Starfleet cannot interfere with the internal affairs or development of alien civilizations. Some of the best Star Trek episodes involved our heroes clashing with the ethics of a rigid application of this doctrine, but there was always one implication of the Prime Directive that bothered me – the idea that we shouldn’t judge other cultures through the lens of our own because who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong?

This philosophy of moral relativism argues that there are no universal moral standards – sentient beings are completely at the mercy of their own societies to impart a code of moral behavior and whatever it comes up with is “good enough.” There may be common themes among many societies in terms of morals – most seem to agree it is wrong to commit murder, for instance – but ultimately, what is “right” according one society is not guaranteed to be “right” for another. And let’s be honest with ourselves – even with the topic of murder, we still fiercely debate exceptions to the “no murder” rule such as war, capital punishment, or self-defense, not to mention we have heated arguments over what even constitutes murder when we discuss issues of abortion or animal agriculture.

Our own society provides an incredible patchwork of thorny moral and ethical issues that we still have yet to decide upon. We debate things like abortion, torture, slavery, free speech, and more. We probe these issues by asking ourselves questions like, “At what point does life truly begin?” and “Is torture ever justified?” We explore them by posing philosophical experiments like the Trolley Problem and asking ourselves whether it is morally acceptable to kill one person to save the lives of two or more others.

But at the end of the day, might (in terms of numbers) makes right in moral relativism. While I don’t subscribe to that theory, there are times when our beloved Star Trek characters do under the guise of defending the Prime Directive. On the surface, it sounds very peaceful and anti-colonialist. After centuries of watching many empires from the Romans to the British set fire to cultural diversity – and given arguments that many Western nations continue to do this today, just without being quite as invadey – this sounds like a nice change of pace. Live and let live. But this also creates a mind-boggling acceptance of suffering, genocide, exploitation, and oppression within Starfleet.

One of the first chronological examples of the faults of moral relativism is found in the Star Trek: Enterprise episode, “Cogenitor.” Archer and his crew meet an affable, three-gendered species called the Vissians, but we quickly learn that only two of the society’s genders have any real rights. The third gender is referred to as a “cogenitor,” and Trip Tucker ends up on Captain Archer’s shit list for teaching it how to read and putting ideas in its head. When the cogenitor later begs for asylum, Archer refuses. It gets worse – the cogenitor is sent back to the people who basically treat it as chattel and commits suicide, and Archer points out that Tucker’s interference led to its death and will mean the Vissian couple will probably never get to have a child. No winners in this ethical dilemma of an episode, only losers. Until you remember none of this would have happened in the first place if the Vissians had just treated the cogenitors like people.

In the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Angel One,” we encounter the cringe worthy society of Angel I, a planet of misandric women who oppress men. We all got a few giggles at the ladies of Enterprise-D being suddenly held in higher regard than their male counterparts, but things get very dark when Beata, the Elected One of Angel I, decides some dudes need to die for spreading heretical teachings that imply men are equal to women. We get a sort of cop out solution in which Beata has a change of heart and decides to banish rather than execute these “heretics” after Riker makes an impassioned speech about basic rights, but Riker was more than willing to let things go bad if need be, because, “The Prime Directive” and “Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s wrong.” In another Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Symbiosis,” we’re introduced to the Ornarans and Brekkians and we find out that after an ancient plague, the Brekkians started peddling an expensive and addictive drug to the Ornarans and calling it a “treatment.” There’s no plague anymore – the Brekkians just control the Ornarans through their drug addiction. Dr. Crusher finds a way to synthesize this drug and offers to help wean the Ornarans off their addiction, but what does Captain Picard do? He tells her to mind her own damn business because it’s not the Federation’s place to tell the Brekkians that it’s wrong to deceive and enslave the Ornarans through an addictive drug. And this is the most uncomfortable part of moral relativism – who gets to draw the line and where do we draw it? On one end of the spectrum, we have moral relativism which claims anything goes – societies should be able to torture animals, employ the slave labor of children, and oppress women as they see fit – just as long as enough people agree it isn’t wrong to do so. At the other end of the spectrum sits moral absolutism, a theoretical construct that would result in a perfectly unified, homogenous culture, but one that would also strip away many facets of culture that lead to human diversity.

If Star Trek is supposed to serve as a guide for how we might become a more progressive society, it does a terrible job a lot of the time. Now, there are many instances of our protagonists saying “to hell with the Prime Directive!” and taking what most of us would agree is the more morally praiseworthy route. But there’s no rhyme or reason to it. Just look at how they treat the Borg. Why is it okay to let some societies oppress men or drug another species into submission but it’s not okay to let the Borg assimilate the galaxy in their ultimate quest for perfection?

I’m going to guess the answer is that until the Borg decided to stick nanoprobes in a Federation citizen, the cheerful little robots simply weren’t the Federation’s problem. We might argue that the Prime Directive certainly has provisions for self-defense — how ridiculous would it be to consent to being annihilated or assimilated just because the Federation is afraid of offending another culture and refuses to draw a line in the sand where right stops and wrong starts? The slope gets slippery here though.

We could say this mirrors the concept of large Western nations trying to police the rest of the world and impose their customs on other societies - but how many of us watched documentaries about the Holocaust in school and wondered why the hell previous generations allowed shit to get that bad? How many of us continue to stand by while people in Iraq and Syria live under the threat of the Islamic State? I doubt most people even realize what’s going on in the Philippines or Venezuela right now because hey, “Not my country, not my problem.”

It is a huge gray area for what constitutes forcing certain customs on unwilling societies and trying to genuinely help people, but if we can’t agree that Nazi extermination camps and religiously motivated beheadings are bad and need to stop (even when they aren’t happening to us personally), I’ll be surprised if we ever make to the 24th century. It makes me wonder how exactly Earth “solved its problems” and created a utopian society in the first place with this attitude of moral relativism.

Let’s face it – we have no shortage of modern travesties that sound ridiculous in the context of this philosophical approach. The Chechen Republic has been reportedly rounding up gay men and torturing them in recent months, and moral relativism would have us shrug and say, “But their culture says homosexuality is a sin.”

Bacha bazi, a practice where adolescent boys are groomed for sexual relationships with older men, remains pervasive in many Pashtun societies. Moral relativism would tell us that we shouldn’t condemn predatory pedophilia because to do so would mean unfairly imposing our Western beliefs on their culture.

I could keep going on, but this post is already long enough. The bottom line is, all too often, Star Trek lazily glosses over a lot of moral and ethical dilemmas by using the argument, “Who are we to judge?” June is Pride Month, and in honor of LGBT individuals all over the globe who all too often have less rights than their cisgender heterosexual counterparts, maybe we should avoid looking to the “progressive” future of Star Trek and instead ask the question, “Who are we to not judge?”

While I can’t resolve one of the greatest philosophical questions ever devised, someone once gave me a great piece of advice that I think applies to this idea of moral relativism: no person’s belief is inherently worthy of respect, but every person is.

#star trek #star trek ethics #ethics #morality #relative morality #prime directive #prime directive problems #star trek enterprise #star trek the original series #star trek ii: the wrath of khan #star trek the next generation #pride month

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krakenator · 5 years

Text

CHAPTER 9 aka “Let’s go lesbians!”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

Melody and Julienne join The Party! A singer, a dancer, and an actor make a triple threat baby!

Though the true triple threats out there are the people who can do all those things. I would put myself as an example but said Real Threats are people who can do it all well

…y’know we haven’t seen RGB dance but… it would not surprise me. My god. That’s why he’s so strong. He dances

Maybe the real triple threat was the object-heads we met along the way

Still on that opening page though, have I talked enough yet about Melody’s dialogue? Because a glissando is an excellent way to convey and agreeable hum.

Wow parents really were right that tv would rot my brain look at this poor doggo

Yo yo yo that’s the snail from the Pool of Tears in chapter 2!

So all I need to do to get Inspired is to lick a technicolor dream-snail, got it

Oh damn it, it’s a bright idea

Ey the picture frame clouds are back. Wow they are moving fast- heckuva wind

Oh yeah and TOby’s there. Enjoy the view lil buddy

Looks like the armchair Hero slept in at the House of Paint’s become more realized as a What. Wonder why it’s heading down to/past the Pool of Tears

How often do you think someone in this world goes to, like, hang their coat only to realize the coat-racks missing and just go “oh damnit it went sentient and wandered off. Well. Inconvenient. But godspeed I guess”

So I know the ball and chain Hero’s fashioned for her TV guide (FUCKIN JUST REALIZED THAT ONE) is rolled like like a yarn ball, but my boat-brain looked and it and said “monkeyfist. Big ol’ monkeyfirst for swinging around. Throw RGB REAL far”

How is modmad so good at speechbubbles. RGB’s shaken text/box is hilarious. Melody’s notes are connected by a beam, she’s beaming

rekted for the 11th time in 4 days

This is a good opportunity to take a moment for me to appreciate modmad’s HANDS. RGB’s hands are always exquisitely drawn. Like, the third panel especially, goddamn. Second appreciation is how damn expressive RGB is. I gushed about my love for the wives designs last chapter, I guess it’s finally time for RGB’s turn

For having NO ACTUAL FACE the man is supremely easy to read as a character. He doesn’t have eyes, yet you know when he’s smiling for real anyway! Looking back at the first few pages, that’s SUCH a fakey-fakers smile to the genuine ones seen throughout the rest of the comic. Combined with his body language- just fantastic

And then! The drooling! The initial reason I wanted to do a more thorough reread was when I realized the colors correspond to emotions and whatever RGB is feeling most strongly in any given moment, those are the colors he drips. Which is! Fantastic! It gives yet another avenue by which to see RGB’s character and an excellent supplement when the man is, again, emoting with NOT-A-FACE

His antenna crack me up. They start the comic so straight. So ironed out and spiffy and like 3 days into his newest Hero they are chronically crinkled up like tissue paper. It gives him this impression of being completely frazzled at all times, which. accurate

Back to your daily scheduled TPoH though; eeey, Assok’s speech-texture has some black triangles in here for copying Julienne’s words!

Yikes. RGB’s tried to take Heroes back before huh. Considering he hasn’t given up on his “save this doomed world” plan after all this time, how absolutely/repeatedly disastrous was “get my friend back home” for him to concede it as impossible??

Aaaand we’re off to the races Market!

RGB: LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO!!

BIG DAMN SMOOCH! YES!! LOVELY! Also Julienne’s resting the blunt side of her knife on Melody’s head and I’m die

Melody’s dialogue is the symbol for a “natural” note. She’s replying “naturally, duh” to RGB’s question

If Julienne wasn’t already married to Melody I’d seduce that big instrument lady myself

Accept the compliment Assok! You did good!!

Random thought and back to RGB being stealth STRONK- Hero found the [—–] to be heavier than it looks and yet RGB is walking around with it all tied to one foot completely unimpeded

Im fucking snorting. The way RGB says “…that’s the sea.” Like he can’t believe Hero is being this dumb. If course it’s the sea! Obviously!

NO RGB, NOT OBVIOUSLY

D’you think if RGB saw how water and seas behave in our world he’s be equally bewildered as I was the first time I read this page

So I took the time to look up Julienne’s name and now im BIG MAD. Julienne is a way of cutting things into long thin strips! It’s a fucking culinary pun!!

Y-yo… that’s just a big damn eye.

AND/OR an impact crater. Except the ground they’re standing on wouldn’t be flat if that were the case

But it is also DEFINITELY a fairy ring, as the next page describes this is EXACTLY how fairy rings work

K so this entire page is just that one verse from “Cover is Not the Book”

Bruh. This looks like myelin sheaths on nerve axons. Myelin is an insulator just like [—–] is described to be! Except the metaphor ends there because myelin is supposed to be there and protects the axon/accelerates signal speed. Assok is basically chewing nodes of ranvier into existence instead of the breaks between myelin forming naturally. And that’s my degree put to use for the week

Also HEY. I had the thought earlier that the sick tree might be a Yggdrasil thing but didn’t put said thought down cause there wasn’t a whole lot behind it save for “big tree, big big tree”. But NOW it turns out there was a small SERPENTINE creature CHEWING AT ITS ROOTS

ASSOK’S THE NIDHOGGR

Everyone: RGB smart?? as if. RGB: EXCUSE-

absolutely huge mood there buddy

HEY MODMAD. TURN ON YOUR LOCATION WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT PAGE 162 FORESHADOWING HOW RGB BELIEVES THE SUCCESSFUL HERO’S JOURNEY HAS TO END

Hero is the flower that will die even though she’s saved the World >:(

“all flowers must die to complete their purpose” is also a funny phrase to be throwing around when Negative’s presence sprouts blue roses which shatter apart when he leaves

“Flowers need roots to live”, further implicating Negative as the (ha ha) root cause of the blue roses and vines. and we again see here, the flowers die but the branches they bloomed from remain

ALSO consider the flowers seen around characters heads when they dream/are asleep- those flowers also must go away when people wake up

Taking this a step further, Negative can be further associated with RGB’s subconscious/being unconscious by his flower-spawning

Lesbians Fight TV-Dad for Custody of Daughter

It’s “make fun of RGB hour” on TPoH and im living. Sharp, sour, cheesy poop indeed

Gotta remember to contrast this against when Hero actually drinks his colors later

gotta remember that this is 4 PEOPLE THAT RGB HAS FUCKED OVER BANDING TOGETHER TO GIVE HIM SHIT. LIKE, HE’S KIDNAPPED THEM ALL, HE CAN’T COMPLAIN

Under the sea, under the seeea~

Uh oh. UH OH THAT’S A SCISSOR BLADE

UH OH

Melody shouted in sforzando but it’s already too late ;_;

Oh! And the notation on top- that tells you to use a mute. God dammit

I knew this was coming and yet I am devastated anyway. goodbye my sweet wives your time was too short. Please come back one day

It’s also notable that Hate cut them out right at the border before the third and final protection on the Market begins. We know later that the darkness blots them entirely out of Hate’s view, so if they’d made it just a bit further She wouldn’t have been able to capture them like she just has

D’you think RGB knows exactly what’s happened to them?

If bodies of water are another form of Good Protection, then Fears hanging around the Pool of Tears is doubly weird

Yikes tho good thing Hero hopped off, can you imagine if Hero had gotten snipped away alongside her moms?? Terrible

Jeebs are you telling me that Hero would have eventually started to fade if she’d carried that pile of [—–] long enough?! RGB! BAD DAD! GET ‘IM HERO

Then again, this means he was probably planning to carry it himself most of the way. He has certain advantages after all- he overgenerates color for himself. It’s probably why he lasts as long in the storm of Nothing as he does…

Oh no OH NOOOOO ASSOK HEARD MELODY’S SHOUT

Is that-? Could it be-? By jove, it is. RGB IS INITIATING AFFECTION AND COMFORT EVERYONE! YEEEEEEAH, MAKE UP FOR THAT BAD-DAD BEHAVIOR!

HEY NOW WAIT THE FUCK A MINUTE THERE- BUTTERFLY SHADOW

HEY. Her schism’s opening back up! Nothing on page 166, but once Julienne and Melody are gone in page 167 we see it starting to open back up

!! RGB OFFERS HER HIS HAND? HIS PHYSICAL, ACTUAL HAND?? HELLO????

And the third return of “just this once” is killing me dude

Poor Assok get scronch

Girl what makes you think TOBY and JULIENNE trust RGB?! Additionally, why are you including Dial on the list?! Is he just That Charming?

IN FACT, every single person Hero just listed? RGB has personally ruined their life! he’s killed ALL of them! HERO I UNDERSTAND YOU’RE 6 BUT

Hero trusts Dial oh no. this can only result in bad things

Butterfly, flying off in defeat: goddamn fucking idealistic children making it hard for me to steal them away and end their story, come on! Dump the chump and let me end you!!!!

Back on that schism though- it opened up once they started fighting at the sun tree, and just now when the wives disappeared. I would say it’s ripped open by experiencing fear, but it definitely was not open when Hero saw Neggy Boi wrecking shop

Join me in the next chapter when our intrepid duo speedrun Pajama Sam: No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside!

#tpoh #tpoh time with Gill #the property of hate

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mittensmorgul · 7 years

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5.10: The demon Crowley is making a deal; even as we speak, it's—going—down.

Where we learn so much more about Lucifer, demons in general, and Dean gets the Colt back for one single episode before Crowley takes it back.

CROWLEY: Lucifer isn't a demon, remember? He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus. If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us? SAM: But he created you. CROWLEY: To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So, help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, dammit! So what do you say if I give you this thing, and you go kill the devil?

(I confess, I spent most of this episode trying to figure out what actually happened to the Colt at the end of it. We have written up and down about everything having to do with this episode in the past)

Dean gives Jo, someone he’s always had a more “sisterly” relationship with, the Last Night On Earth speech and is turned down, Bobby takes that horribly ominous family portrait, and Cas gives his version of the Last Night On Earth speech that’s horrifyingly more literal than Dean’s...

Cas wanders off to investigate the seemingly empty town’s burgeoning reaper population, and is almost immediately captured by Lucifer. They have a particularly interesting conversation, and we learn just how frighteningly mistaken Lucifer is about Castiel:

CASTIEL: You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won't let you. LUCIFER: Castiel. I don't understand why you're fighting me, of all the angels CASTIEL: You really have to ask? LUCIFER: I rebelled, I was cast out. You rebelled, you were cast out. Almost all of heaven wants to see me dead, and if they succeed, guess what? You're their new public enemy number one. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interests? Which in this case just happen to be mine? CASTIEL: I'll die first. LUCIFER: I suppose you will.

Lucifer believes he and Cas are on the same side because they’ve both defied Heaven. But that’s where the similarity ends. Lucifer and Cas may both have “fallen” in that respect, but the essential difference that Lucifer just can’t understand is in what they fell for.

Cas fell for Humanity, while Lucifer fell for pride and jealousy and a hatred of humanity...

Meanwhile the rest of our intrepid heroes are set upon by hellhounds and Jo is mortally wounded, and Bobby keeps Dean focused and on track when he stumbles after being emotionally compromised about Jo. Lucifer has wiped out this entire town as a sacrifice to raise and bind the horseman Death, and the “cosmic consequences” are already playing out for the Winchesters...

*Sam and Dean built a Hellhound Bomb*

*Jo and Ellen sacrifice themselves to give the Winchesters a shot at killing the devil*

*nothing about this ends well*

This is where we learn there are “five things” that the Colt can’t kill, and Lucifer is one of them. I don’t know if that’s just Lucifer SPECIFICALLY, archangels in general, or ALL angels, because we’ve never seen it used against another angel... and those “five things” are still entirely a mystery.

(Dean drops the Colt in the woods and Mittens nearly misses everything about Sam’s chat with Lucifer while trying to figure out why he didn’t bother picking it up again...)

LUCIFER: I was a son. A brother, like you, a younger brother, and I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael—Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam. Any of this sound familiar? Anyway. You'll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling and I have a ritual to finish. Don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you would.

And heck, surface level that might sound rational to Sam. But Sam’s “difference” between himself and Dean isn’t based on his disdain for an entire SPECIES. Sam’s “rebellion” wasn’t about the desire to destroy a huge segment of creation because his daddy didn’t like him best anymore.

From a post s11 standpoint, knowing how Chuck used Lucifer to contain the Darkness so that all of creation could begin in the first place. That would kinda breed resentment toward said creation. But he never had a problem with any other part of creation-- nature, Chuck’s supposed favorite part of his creation, was just fine with Lucifer. He only resented humanity. And that’s never been Sam’s problem. Because no matter how he’s rebelled against John, against Dean, he’s never let go of that foundation of the Winchester Family: Saving People.

No matter how much Sam might resent how he was raised, that he’s always felt like a freak or a monster, Dean’s never let him forget his own humanity.

(oh, and yeah, the Colt. When Cas came to save Sam and Dean while Lucifer’s back was turned finishing up the Death Summoning Ritual, he booped them out to safety sans Colt. I suppose Crowley swooped in and found it in the underbrush before it ever occurred to any of TFW to go back and look for it. Not like it even worked on the one thing they needed it to kill anyway...)

#spn 5.10 #s12 meta rewatch #the colt #supernatural weapons #winchester family dynamics

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pinebypine · 5 years

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Longest Night of the Year

Triplet AU Fic. The triplets have been caught up in a cult’s midnight shenanigans.

In the monster movies, when the evil cultists have the virginal maiden tied to a post so she can be sacrificed to the ancient eldrich horror or terrifying creature out of time, she is always in a thin slip of a dress that reveals just about everything. Mabel had quite liked those scenes in the movies, it was practically the climax of the film and she either got to see the monster get defeated by the intrepid heroes or, occasionally, somebody get eaten. She’d secretly imagined what it might be like to be in such a position, held spreadeagled and awaiting an uncertain fate.

What she had not imagined was doing so in central Oregon in the middle of the night in the dead of winter. Mabel was freezing her tuckus off. She was so cold in fact, that her worry about whether it was possible to get frostbite of the nipple was actually overriding the worry coming from the fact, despite all her tugging, she was unable to wiggle or tug or otherwise make any progress on the ropes around her wrists or ankles.

To her left, Ty hung limply by her arms, strung to a post of her own. She’d either passed out or taken a hefty bonk on the head during the struggle to get them tied up here. Mabel was starting to get seriously worried that her sister hadn’t moved in a while. On Mabel’s other side, Dipper was violently thrashing against his bindings, but his yells of fury were being effectively blanked out by the rag that had been stuffed into his mouth and taped over.

If circumstances had been different, Mabel would love to be mocking her brother right now, but not only was this probably the worst time for some good-natured sibling ribbing, she’d been gagged too. She considered though, that despite the obvious handicap of trying to make-over a struggling and unwilling subject, theses cultists had done a surprisingly decent job making her brother look like a girl.

Several red and guttering lights began to bob toward them through the trees.

Oh thank god, Mabel thought, they’ve got torches. Maybe they’re just planning on burning us alive. At least then I’ll be warm.

“Behold the sisters of the year! The triple-goddess made incarnate again!” A voice called out from the darkness.

Mabel heard her brother’s faint yelling grow slightly louder. She could discern shapes in the darkness now. Hooded figures surrounded them, some holding torches, others sickles, and yet others what looked like branches.

The cultist speaker continued. “For this night the Wild Hunt has ceased its endless game and rests; so that in the belly of this darkness, the seed of the new year can be sown. We call to you, Leader of the Hunt, King of Winter, Father of the Seasons!”

Around the triplets, the cultists all repeated the titles, thrusting their torches and implements into the air.

“Come to this glade, receive our willing sacrifice, and set burning the fire that will warm the world!” She then continued to speak in some other language that Mabel didn’t recognize and the other cultists took up the words as some sort of chant. At the shouting grew louder, Mabel thought she also could hear the baying of hounds start somewhere in the distance.

She quit pulling against her ties; all she had accomplished until this point was to give herself rope burns. She craned her neck and peered up at where the rope that bound her wrists was secured to the post. If she swayed her arms and body back and forth, she could see the knot slip along the wood. Was it working loose? She couldn’t tell but it was better that what she’d be trying before.

There were definitely animal sounds coming from the forest now; dog howls and horses hooves. Mabel looked past the hooded figures and saw riders circling, getting closer. She looked up at the ropes above her; the knot seemed to have loosened slightly and she was dragging it across the rough bark of the post. Keep this up, she reasoned, and the rope would certainly wear through. That might take minutes though, and she was becoming more and more convinced that they did not have that kind of time.

Mabel checked on her siblings as she continued to work at her bindings. Dipper wasn’t flailing anymore, he had a look of deep concentration on his face and Mabel saw that he’d managed to twist his wrists apart a little, and the fingers of one hand were digging at the knot. On her other side, Ty was as still as the dead, mouth hanging agape. Mabel saw her sister’s hair begin to whip around her head as a fierce wind swelled, biting into all of them.

The cultists and dog fell silent in a rush and the air became lifeless around them. The woods were dead calm, but for the sound of hooves and bodies moving in saddles beyond the rim of the lights. Dipper made a small noise of shock and Mabel turned to see a figure standing before them.

He was enormous, like someone had put an NFL linebacker in a copy machine and hit the 150% scale button. A pair of curling, many-pronged antlers rose from his forehead and Mabel should see wisps of frost floating from their points. His mountainous shoulders were wrapped in what looked like an entire bearskin and he held a spear that could serve as a ship’s mast. His long hair and beard were silvery tangles of thick hair that surrounded a grizzled and scarred face. A single shining blue eye pierced the shadows from beneath his overgrown brows.

One of the cultists came forward and beckoned toward the Pines triplets. “We present you with our offering, Lord of the North. Three pure girls to represent the seasons you will father in them.” She pointed to Mabel first. “The maiden of spring, blushing with new life and promise.” Her hand turned to Ty. “The mother of summer, in full flourishment of growth.” And finally she indicated to Dipper, who was glaring back so furiously and he might burst a blood vessel in his forehead. “And the crone of autumn, who wanes with the year that it may begin anew.”

The huge man smiled and spoke in voice deeper than the calving of glaciers. “For-wel fæger, bearn.” The spear swung around in his hand and he drove the point of it into the cold ground with ease. Then a hand the size of a spade reached to the clasp of his cloak and pulled it away. His only remaining covering was a loose loin cloth which was not doing a good job of hiding anything at that moment. His smile was wide as he began to close the distance between them.

“Okay, this is complete bull.”

Mabel’s head whipped toward the voice and she saw Ty up and alert, her face a mask of indignation. Mabel’s heart swelled at the sight; her sister must have faked some or all of her time unconscious, and because she had not been struggling the cultists had failed to gag her.

“Fearr?” The man said, looking puzzled.

“Or what comes out of one, in any case. First off, none of us is ‘pure’ by any stretch of the imagination. Second, you will not be planting any seed in anybody tonight. And third, that ‘girl’ on the end there is my brother Dipper. You’re little groupies are trying to pull a fast one on you.”

Now even the sounds of the riders ceased and the wood fell silent, a heavy tension filling the air. The King of Winter’s chest swelled as he drew in a breath, stepped over to Dipper, and lifted the pure white dress. His jaw dropped agape and he wheeled on the cultists.

“Sparks and splinters! What on earth were you planning? Did you think I would not notice?!”

The nearest cultist shrunk from him and turned away. “Many pardons, my lord. We attempted to find a set female triplets but there was a mistake and there wasn’t time too-”

The King’s face dropped and he covered it with one huge hand, shaking with frustration. “What are you? Morons? There’s nothing in the ritual that says they have to be triplets. They don’t even need to be sisters. But they do need to be female.” He bent over to look under the hood of the cultist. “I don’t recognize you; how many solstices have you overseen?”

By her body language, the cultist was unprepared for this sort of questioning. “Uh. One.”

A single large silver eyebrow cocked at her. “Really?”

“Well, including this one. Look we’re doing our best.”

The King heaved a sigh and turned back to the triplets. “I am so very sorry; they shouldn’t have bothered you three with all this.” He strode over and with a casual tug, snapped the rope holding Mabel’s arms up. “There seems to be a misunderstanding among my worshippers about a few things.”

Ty was freed next, then Dipper, who wobbled and nearly fell over when he tried to put weight on high heels. Mabel shook the loops of rope off her hands and tore at the tape over her mouth. “Ow ow ow. Man that hurts.”

“Oh dear, you three look cold. Here.” The fur cape was lifted from the ground and the King wrapped it around them in a bundle. The steamy heat of it began instantly to warm them. “Out of curiosity, were the ropes your idea? I mean, I’m all for a little kinky stuff but I just want to make sure nobody thought they were expected.”

Mabel fumed. “The ropes were because we kept trying to get away! They trapped us outside our Grunkle Stan’s cabin! They threw a net over us!”

“We only came to Oregon,“ Dipper chimed in, ”because we got a letter from him saying to come give him a ride back home for Christmas. But when we got here we find out he’s in Barbados for three weeks. I think they faked that letter to get us out here!” He almost lost his balance again but was caught by his sisters.

Ty finished the tale. “Then they panicked because Dipper was actually a boy; which probably shouldn’t have been that hard to figure out before they kidnap somebody. So they decided to try and fool you, dressed us like this and tied us to these posts.”

The King’s head sank again. “Oh son of a...” He turned back to the robed figures, who were congealing into a tight crowd. “That’s what you think I want? This is supposed to be fun. It’s the one night off I get all year and you guys think I want to spend it...” He shuddered visibly. “You’re just supposed to put an ad in the newspaper or something. ‘Wanted: three beautiful young women to lay with god of winter. Lubricant and snacks provided.’”

Huge fists clenched and the triplet’s head height. “You know what?” the King’s voice was suddenly full of resignation. “Since my evening has suddenly become free, I think it’s time for the Wild Hunt to get back to its business.” The baying of the hounds resumed and now the glint of the moonlight off of metal was visible among the motionless riders. The King of Winter smiled. “I’m going to take these nice young people back to their cabin and then I go back to work; that’s how much of a head start you all get. Not that it’ll make any difference in the end.”

When the hooded figures had scrambled from sight, the huge man plucked his spear from the ground and beckoned to the Pines triplets to follow him. They did, helping Dipper when necessary, and were lead a few dozen yards away to a spot where an enormous wagon sat in wait. Harnessed to it were more than a dozen horned beasts: elk, deer, bison, and even some sort of antelope with a strangely shaped nose. A pair of attendants, who were so covered in leather, furs, and sheathed weapons that not a scrap of skin showed, handed the King a huge set of reins, helped the triplets up onto the wagon’s copious bench seat, and began to unchuck the wheels.

“I hope you three can forgive me for the actions of my worshipers. I assure you this is the last time I let the new world branch of my church handle a big event.” The King pulled another fur cape from the back of the wagon and tossed it around hiself, then commanded his draft animals into motion. He shook his head in shameful wonder. “Ugh they didn’t even get all the names right. They’re lucky this wasn’t midsummer; Titania isn’t as merciful as me.”

Mabel looked at him quizzically. “Aren’t you going to hunt them like animals?”

As the King laughed, they could see a few snowflakes fall from his horns. “Compared to what my queen would do, that’s practically a slap on the wrist.”

Mabel felt some movement inside the immense span of the fur cloak and then heard Ty whisper in Dipper’s ear. “Did they actually shave your legs? You are really smooth.”

Her brother hunkered into the fur more. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Mabel slipped her arm around her brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it, bro. It turns out you’ve got some great gams.”

Dipper sunk further. “I hate you both.”

They didn’t seem to have gone very far, but the dark bulk of the Mystery Shack, shuttered up and closed for the season, suddenly loomed before them. When the wagon came to a halt near the front door, the strange attendants seemed to materialize from nowhere and helped them down. The King of Winter dropped from the wagon and placed a hand on Mabel’s shoulder.

“I owe you all a debt that will be difficult to repay. But we’ll see about getting a start on it, at least.” He rose and pulled a wrapped parcel as big a man from the back of the wagon and a sack of nearly the same size; these he handed to his attendants, instructing them to get things set up inside. Then he knelt on one knee before the Pine’s siblings and smiled warmly at them.

“I want you to know that you may count me a friend.” And suddenly they were encircled by a pair of arms like anchor chains. As the King rose, his one eye twinkled at them. Then he leapt into the seat of his wagon and bellowed some of that strange language into the sky. The sounds of the hunt grew around them and swelled as the King whipped his wagon team into a frenzy, speeding off into the forest.

One of the attendants retrieved the King’s cloak from the Pines siblings, and, divested of its warmth, they all hurried inside.

“Oh my god, Mabel.” Ty giggled. “Did you see he popped out of his loincloth when he knelt down?”

“I know! When he hugged us it was like- BAM- right there. Swear to god, it was the size of my leg.”

Dipper groaned. “Will you two grow up?”

“How is that even supposed to-”

They all froze when the saw the interior of the shack; the place seemed remade. Candles burned from nearly every horizontal surface. A fire crackled in the wood stove. The little table in the living room overflowed with food: roasted meats, loaves of bread, fruit, and a plethora of sugary things covered in frosting. Laid out in middle of the room were three piles of parcels, wrapped in plain brown paper but bearing colorful ribbons and tags.

Dipper started to walk toward the enticing spread of food but wobbled on a heel and landed in Ty’s arms. When he was righted and starting to kick off the shoes, Mabel dug him in the ribs with her elbow. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it, Big D.”

“What?” Dipper looked up with a slightly hunted look. “No, no! No I won’t; this is never happening again!”

Ty winked at her sister and ambled over to the table. “Oh I think that now that we know the possibilities, at the very least we’re going to have to come up with something different for next years Halloween costumes.”

“No, Ty.” Dipper started pulling off the dress.

Mabel caught one of his arms up with hers and gave him a tender peck on the cheek. “You’ll make a great Buttercup, Dip.” She started to drag him over to eat.

“No, Mabel.”

There was a lull in the conversation as began to dig into the food. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast and started to pack it away like only teenagers can. Eventually Ty was the one to break the silence.

“So, are we just not going to talk about what happened out there in the woods?”

Dipper swallowed a huge mouthful of venison. “You mean that it turns out Santa is a prehistoric seasonal god of the hunt with antlers and an army of riders and dogs that he uses to chase people and that once a year some followers of his arrange for him to have four-way with three young women to don’t have to be related but it would appear to be preferred?”

Mabel perked up. “Or that he’s got a huge cock?”

Ty considered the choices. “I’m gonna go with ‘cock’. It’s a much more interesting topic.”

Both of the girls turned to their brother; it would appear that unwrapping their presents was going to have to wait.

#pinecest #pinebypine #GFTripletAU

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victorluvsalice · 6 years

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AU Thursday: As Long As You Love Me – Are You Ready For It

HOLY CRAP IT’S THIS AU AGAIN. Yes, while “The Technicolor Phase” is on a “I need to write more of it” hiatus, we’re having a brief but grand return to the “Holistic Assassin!Alice and her tagalong Victor” AU! I’ve had this particular snippet waiting in the wings for a while now, and it’s time to finally bring it out into the light.

When we last left our intrepid heroes, Victor had watched a very convenient news report and discovered Alice had been injured and arrested in the line of duty. Which led to him realizing that maybe the reason he feels so out of joint with his current life is because he’s not where he’s supposed to be anymore. So he’s called up Victoria (and Emily by proxy) for a very important meeting. . .

"You're what?!"

"Going back to Alice," Victor repeated obligingly. "I leave today."

Victoria and Emily gawked, first at him, then at each other. Victor didn't blame them – he probably would have done the same in their place. "You're – going back to the woman who says it's her mission in life to kill people?" Emily said at last, turning back to him.

"Purpose," Victor corrected. "And yes, I am."

"Do – do your parents know?" Victoria asked, scrambling for solid conversational ground.

Victor burst out laughing. "Do my – Victoria, do you honestly believe they'd have let me out of the house if they knew I was about to head off to become the official accomplice of a serial killer?! No, of course not! Mother thinks I'm on a date with you, actually. It was the best way to leave without them suspecting anything."

Victoria's eyes flicked to the duffel bag sitting by his chair. "They thought you needed all that for a date?"

"Oh, no, I packed this last night and hid it in the bushes," Victor said, nudging it. "I picked it up before coming to find you. It's not that much, really – my keyboard and sketchbook take up the most space. The rest is just clothes, pens, a couple of books, a few CDs, a photo album, and some snacks."

"Sounds exactly like the sort of things I packed to go meet Barkis," Emily said darkly. "Victor, you're really just going to vanish from your own life? For someone like – you yourself admitted she was a serial killer!" She rubbed her ribcage, searching out the scar under her shirt. "How do you know you're not walking into your own grave?"

"Because I'm supposed to be with her." Victor pinched the bridge of his nose. "I – oh, how do I explain? Alice doesn't kill randomly. It might look that way when you first meet her, but. . .you two didn't stay with her as long as I did. You didn't see how it all worked."

"How does it work, then?" Victoria asked, leaning forward. "Please, Victor, we want to understand. But all we know about this – purpose of hers comes from you screaming at her that it was her job over Barkis's – corpse."

Victor winced. "Yes, I know, not the best first impression. . .but things had gone a little awry then. . ." He rubbed the back of his head. "Barkis is the kind of person Alice is called to kill. The lowest of the low, the scum that have escaped all other justice. I told you that she rescued me from my kidnappers."

"But – did they really deserve to die? Not that I'm saying it wasn't a horrible experience for you, Victor, or that they shouldn't have been arrested, but–"

"But I'd likely be dead if she hadn't come along when she had," Victor cut in. "I left this out before because you and Emily had already gone through enough, and I – I was still reeling over Barkis, but Hugo Landis and his crew made snuff films. Alice learned of them when one of them handed her a business card."

Emily sucked in a shocked breath. "What?"

Victor nodded. "They tricked people into coming to their studio, then murdered them on-camera. All without ever getting caught. And Hugo offered to put me in their pictures once or twice – goodness, the day Alice showed up, he was preparing to cut off one of my fingers to show he meant business." He flexed his hands, shuddering at the mere memory. "If she hadn't come along, I might not have ever made it out. And who knows how many young women and men looking for their big break she saved by slaughtering the lot of them."

"Be that as it may – how can you be sure she only kills evil people?" Victoria pressed, a lock of hair escaping her bun.

"Because that seems to be who the universe sends her way. How else do you explain her killing some biker in the parking lot of a diner, only for him to be revealed to be part of a notorious band of violent thugs who burn anyone who crosses them? Or the mechanic who helped fix our first car when it broke down – only to reveal he intended to steal it, kill us, and then quietly sell our organs on the black market? Goodness, the only reason we were anywhere near where Barkis was keeping you captive was because our second car mysteriously stopped just across from his house!"

"But – it ran fine when you brought us back to it," Emily pointed out, blinking.

"That's exactly what I mean. The world – warps itself around her. It always makes sure that she's going in the right direction – and being aimed at the right targets." Victor clasped his hands together. "We were kidnapped by the rest of the gang of that biker I mentioned before. They had us tied to a fence in our underwear, helpless. And then one of them threw a baseball at me, and it bounced just right to free her. In under a minute, she'd gotten a gun and killed them all. Does that sound like totally random chance to you?"

Victoria worried her lower lip between her teeth. "Well. . .still. Victor, you're throwing away your entire life to chase after a murderer."

"The life my parents have planned out for me, you mean?" Victor responded, deadpan. "The one where I take over the cannery despite having very little head for business? Where I spend all my free time schmoozing with the elite despite hating parties and preferring a night at home with a good book? Where, somehow, you and I end up married despite you being in love with Emily?"

Victoria went pink. "Surely there's something worth staying for."

"You could just leave Hill Valley, you know," Emily added. "Make your own way somewhere else. Your parents can't force you to stay."

"My mother would probably find a way. . .but no," Victor said, shaking his head. "The universe is calling me, and I have to answer. I haven't felt right since I came back, and when I saw her on the news the other night. . . ." He leaned forward, hands clasped before him. "She's in hospital. She got hurt again on a kill, and that – that's not supposed to happen. And now. . .n-now I think they're going to try and throw her back in a sanitarium."

"Back?!"

"She was committed before – it's a long story," Victor said, waving a hand. "I know she'd fight it with everything she had – she'd probably even find a way out. But. . .when they interviewed the captain about it. . .he looked right at me when saying that they probably wouldn't have caught her if she'd had an accomplice. If I'd been there. . .she'd be okay." He pressed on his eyes, squeezing them tight against sudden wetness. "You w-weren't there before. You didn't see her singing along with the radio, making jokes about the edibility of shampoo, teasing me for being such a mother hen. Telling me I – I was important. That I had a purpose in this world. She and I – we fit, somehow. We can survive apart, but – when we're together, we live. She needs me. And I. . ." He sucked in a breath, fighting to master his emotions. "I need her."

There was a significant silence. ". . .Guess you've finally moved on from us, huh?" Emily said at last.

Victor nodded. "I only let myself appreciate how I felt yesterday. Maybe if I'd done so earlier. . .perhaps calling her my 'soulmate' is a little far, but I know we're meant to be together." He forced himself to look up. "Please, trust me – she's not evil. She's just doing what she has to. And I – I want to be there for her. More than that, I need to be. It's my destiny."

Victoria leaned on her hand, considering him. "We're not going to talk you out of this, are we?" she murmured. "All right. But – why tell us at all?"

"Because someone needs to know where I've gone – what I'm doing. Just so my parents don't panic." Victor reached across the table, taking one of their hands in each of his. "And – I wanted to see you both one last time. Say goodbye." He smiled. "You two – you were the best part of living here."

Emily snorted. "Being told you had to date this one girl by your parents, accidentally convincing another you wanted to be her boyfriend, then getting dumped by both of them for each other was the best part of living here? Cripes, Victor, you must be miserable."

Victor laughed. "Hey – it made my life a lot more interesting, at least." His expression softened. "And you were the ones who always understood me best. You've been wonderful friends. And you were great girlfriends too, for however little time it lasted." He gave them each a squeeze. "Frankly, I'm glad I killed Barkis if it means you two can stay in this world. And I hope you can find your purposes soon. You deserve so much better than this town has given you."

"Oh, Victor. . ." Victoria got up and came around to give him a hug. Emily immediately followed suit. "You were one of my best friends. And certainly the best boyfriend I've ever had."

"Same here," Emily agreed. "I know the competition wasn't particularly stiff in either case, but. . ." She chuckled, then her face went soft. "And you deserve better than this place too. So – if you think you can find it with Alice. . ." She sighed and shook her head. "I still don't quite get it. But I know a lot about doing anything for love." She leaned down, looking him dead in the eye. "Just be absolutely certain she's not going to put a knife between your ribs."

Victor patted her back reassuringly. "If she was supposed to kill me before, she would have done it already. And if she stabs me after we get back together, I'll know I did something to deserve it."

Emily shook her head. "You are a very odd person, Victor Van Dort. And the people you fall in love with are even odder."

"Present company excepted?"

Emily giggled. "Well. . ."

"If you can, let us know that you're all right, once you find her," Victoria said, ruffling his hair. "Even if you're going to be on the road the rest of your days, you must pass by a postbox every so often."

"I'll do my best," Victor promised. "Hopefully the universe will be kind." He looked between them, taking each of their hands and giving them a squeeze. "I – I guess this is it then. You both have a good life."

"You too," Emily said, patting his back. "And please, stay safe out there."

Victor bit his lip as he remembered being tied to the fence by Blackwing, the hot metal searing into his back. "That's – kind of up to the universe. But it hasn't killed me yet, so. . . ." He shrugged. "You stay safe as well. No more getting kidnapped."

"God forbid," Victoria said, grimacing. "The first thing I did once we got back was look up some self-defense videos on YouTube. Mother doesn't approve, of course, but she's hasn't tried to take the computer away yet. . ."

"Father and I found a class at the old aerobics place – starts next week," Emily told them. "If I don't know how to take care of myself after that. . ."

Victor smiled. "Good. I hope it goes well." He retrieved his bag and stood up, reluctantly breaking the hug. "As it is, I'll let you two get on with your date. I'm off to Zemeckis Plaza to catch the next available bus to the train station. I'll work my way toward Millsville from there."

"I – suppose that sounds like a plan," Victoria said with a little nod. "Good luck."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

With that, Victor shouldered his bag and started on down the street, leaving them at the table. It stung a little, to leave such good friends behind him, but it had to be done. He certainly couldn't ask them to give up everything for this quest. It wasn't in the cards for them – as far as he knew, anyway. At least I got the chance to say goodbye, he thought, absently playing with his collar. And I'm glad they took it as well as they did. I thought for sure there was going to be more of an argument. . . He rubbed out an itch at the corner of his eye. All right – bus, then the train station. What was the route I found again? Greenville, then a switch to Pickerton, then another bus to –

"Victor!"

Victor started, then turned to see Victoria and Emily still standing over the table, watching him with worried eyes. "You're – you're absolutely sure you're doing the right thing?" Victoria asked, twisting her hands together.

Victor bit his lip, a tiny frisson of doubt going up his spine. He was almost totally sure he was – could feel the tug in his bones – but. . .looking at their anxious expressions. . .was he really? Was all this him following the plan of the universe? Or was he the victim of a number of odd coincidences and about to make an utter fool of himself? He opened his mouth, unsure what was about to come out but hoping the right words would magically find themselves falling off his tongue –

SCHREEEEEEEECH!

Victor just about jumped out of his skin. Out of seemingly nowhere, a bright cherry-red convertible pulled up alongside him, one tire jumping the curb and just missing Victor's foot. The engine had barely stopped revving before the owner – a man with a truly atrocious fake tan and the worst bleached-blond hair Victor had ever seen – jumped out of the driver's seat and thrust the keys into his hand. "Park it for me, noodle-boy," he ordered, jabbing Victor in the chest. "Don't bother about the slip."

"I–"

"I don't care if it's policy," the man said, talking over him as he adjusted his sunglasses. "I'm already late! Shouldn't be more than an hour anyway." His lips turned up in a mocking sneer. "And trust me, vampire, I'll remember your face."

And with that, he was off, slapping his phone against his ear without even a glance backward. Victor blinked rapidly as his brain scrambled to put events in order. "But – I – sir – I-I'm not–"

The man just waved a hand in a very "stop talking to me" fashion, babbling away to whoever was on the other line. Victor stared at him, then at the keys, then at the car. What on earth had convinced that jerk he was a valet? He certainly didn't know of any businesses around here with that service available. Sure, he was wearing a suit, but that didn't really mean anything – people went around in suits all the time! And wasn't the duffel bag a rather big clue that he was on his own important business? Park it, he says, he thought, frowning. Would serve him right if I just took the damn thing and –

Oh.

Victor turned back to Victoria and Emily, staring at the scene in open astonishment. He grinned and held up the keys. "Yup."

And then, well aware that he only had a limited amount of time before the spell was broken, he slid across the hood, slipped into the front seat, and fired up the engine. He gave the shocked girls a final wave, then, with an ease he'd never felt before, did a smooth U-turn back onto the main road and hit the gas. On a whim, he switched on the radio. Sure enough, there was Taylor, belting out, "In the middle of the night, in my dreams – you should see the things we do, baaaaby. In the middle of the night, in my dreams, I know I'm gonna be with you – so I take my tiiiiime. . .are you ready for it?"

Victor beamed, coasting through a set of traffic lights that turned green the moment he reached them. "I am indeed. Hang on, Alice – I'm coming."

#as long as you love me au #fanfic #I figured Victor ought to tell SOMEONE what was happening #and his parents were definitely out so #and this allowed me to do a proper 'I'm in love with her' moment too #I mean he basically realized it in the last bit #but now it's truly out in the open #can't have a Valice AU without a bit of actual Valice #I liked writing the goodbye scene #it was a good tender moment #I like showing Victor Victoria and Emily all being friends #in those universes where it's not a group thing anyway :p #and writing the 'not a valet' scene was a hoot XD #I always wanted to do that in this AU #it was one of the cornerstones #and yes another taylor song #look I like her music and that was a good song for this moment #queued

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