#BUTT those are mainly made good due to previous build up so… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

Photo

DaveFarts - Episode 10 “The Elevator” [Episode List] After visiting a friend’s house, Tim and the gassy-as-usual Dave take a really slow elevator together.

The Elevator

I took a quick sip of beer as our friend Adam left the living room to get another can in his fridge. What was left was a weirdly awkward silence and Dave, with his own beer, glaring at me.

“Dude,” he whispered. “It’s been a hour. I thought you were gonna tell him.”

I chose Adam as the first non-Dave bud to come out to, but it ended up being surprisingly hard to do. It’s not like Dave was forcing me or anything, or that Adam was a bad person; on the contrary, Dave was simply there with me as my emotional support in case things go south (but we both know they won’t) and Adam was, well, just Adam. Dave’s rightful reaction to me not coming out as planned didn’t bother me and as I said he wasn’t there to intimidate a confession out of me.

“Look, I don’t feel ready, okay?”

“You’ve been talking about the weather for 20 minutes.” he hissed. “What’s next? Geology?”

I chuckled. “Actually, this reminds me that they found this weird rock in South Amer-“

“I can’t believe this.”

“What’s not to believe? You take a big shovel and-“

“And I’m gonna dig my own grave if you start talking about rocks.”

I chuckled again. I know he wasn’t really mad.

Annoyed? Maybe. But mad? Nah, that’s a stretch.

He had all the rights to be annoyed though, but in the end it was my decision to make and he knew this.

We kept whispering as we heard Adam rummaging the fridge like some kind of raccoon longing for a cold drink.

“Look.” I said. “it’s late now anyway. Let’s just leave. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“Fine.” he replied. “Let’s finish our beers first at least.”

“That goes without saying.” and I took a long sip.

Truth is that I hadn’t any real reason to hide my homosexuality from Adam or any other of my buds actually. First, we’re in our 20s, we’re all mature and open-minded here. And in the end, excluding the whole fart-thing going on with Dave, they were all like him, chill guys. Adam, despite always sounding like someone who wants to have none of your shit, or anyone’s shit really, more than once proved that it’s just a facade and not-so-deep down he’s always ready to listen and back you up whenever you needed it. He did just listen to me talking about the weather for 20 minutes, so either he’s fascinated by the subject or knows I’m trying to tell him something else and is just patiently waiting.

The thought of wasting both of my buds’ time in a way or another kind of bothered me to be honest, so I was more than okay with wrapping things up and just leave, which me and Dave did mere minutes later.

“See you bro.” my bud said to Adam, standing by the door, as we went outside in the hallway, not far from the stairs and the elevator “Tim wants to talk about rocks so I’m taking him out of here before he kills you with boredom.”

“The one they dug up in Colombia?” Adam asked, much to our surprise.

“Yeah.” I answered. “They know it’s andesite but it has some interesting carvings on the surface and-“

A startled “What the fuck.” from Dave echoed in the hallway and the entire apartment building.

“What the fuck indeed.” Adam uttered, rather excitedly, completely missing the point. “This could change the archeo-history of the entire region.”

“I heard enough.” Dave said as he walked towards the elevator.

Both me and the other rock-enthusiast laughed at his reaction.

“By the way, I’m going to join you for a bit as I gotta walk the dog.” Adam remembered, reaching for a leash behind him.

“We’ll see you outside then.” Dave replied and then turned to me. “Tim, elevator, now.” he ordered.

“You sure, guys? You remember that thing is slow as shit, right?”

“We’ll be fine.” my bud said, patting my back. “I guess I’ll make Tim last longer then.” he joked.

“That only happens when you call me ‘daddy’” I joked back, as we walked towards the elevator, leaving our common friend behind.

“Rrrright.” Adam said. “I’ll get the dog while you two solve your sexual tension. See you outside.”

I pressed the button to summon the lift, Dave’s arm still around my shoulder as if he had something to show me. Truth to be told, I somehow knew where this was going.

As the panels of the door opened, we stepped into the elevator cab. I pressed the “G” on the control panel. I heard a mechanical noise and the elevator started its long, slow descent (we were at the 10th floor), after the doors closed behind us of course.

It was a cold evening and the cab wasn’t any warmer. I turned to Dave, who was wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of grey jeans. He looked at me with a smirk, hands in his jeans pockets; he raised his eyebrows and, without warning, a loud thunder echoed in that enclosed moving space.

The roaring fart had a slow start, with some interruptions, actually a sign for how big it was, but Dave, being an expert, quickly tamed the gassy beast and properly “tuned” the sound of the blast after a couple of seconds, keeping a consistent pitch, while also making it sound loud and deep. It felt like he was ripping one of those huge “when the girl finally leaves” farts, only, well, Dave-sized, which is always a sight to behold… hear? In this case there was no girl so he probably simply held all of his farts in to not ruin “the moment”, in case I wanted to come out back at Adam’s place (with beer acting as a bonus fuel).

A silly smile was drawn on my bro’s face as the fart kept going strong and proud, sometimes reaching some incredibly loud moments. He chuckled a bit and even winked at me when the blast made some particularly “meaty” noises, if that makes any sense. The fart was impressive on his own but Dave “interacting” with me while still masterfully passing gas was incredible as well (and, of course, hot).

The number 6 on the control panel lightened up and only in that moment I realized two things: the first being that the elevator was indeed slow as fuck; the second is that around 40 seconds passed and neither Dave nor his fart “flinched”. I was widely aroused by that and I felt the air around us getting more and more “polluted”, but not in an unbearable way actually. The blast kept echoing inside the elevator and I’m pretty sure that it could have been easily heard, albeit a bit muffled, by anyone taking the stairs.

Dave farted in my face many times, but no fart reached the length and power of this one, which is saying a lot. My bud’s butt-burps normally last around 6-12 seconds and don’t get me wrong they’re amazing, but man, maybe this one rip would have been too much to endure even for me: it simply wouldn’t stop. It’s like there was a loud engine in the elevator which couldn’t be turned off as I couldn’t hear anything else.

I was instead the opposite of turned off and teasing bastard Dave Maning knew this and, as usual, had no issue with it. At this point it was a race between Dave’s longest fart and the world’s slowest elevator.

We were now at the 3rd floor and my bud probably wanted to do a “big finale”; he was visibly pushing the blast out now, as if he wanted it to last as long as possible, a smirk still drawn on his face. He closed his eyes and the sound made it look like another fart was ripped over the sound of the previous fart, as if two audio channels in his ass somehow overlapped. The sound was of course louder than ever; the smell now, and only now, getting a bit hard to get used to. But to be honest, Dave’s skills as a sound designer alone were impressive enough.

A big part of me, mainly the one between my legs, wanted to get on my knees and plant my face in his denim ass before the fart faded out, but I knew that would have been too much even for such a chill guy like him. I’m sure he wouldn’t hate me or anything at this point but we both know there are some untold boundaries and honestly it’s better this way. I know how lucky I am to have someone like him around (farts or not).

My farting bro probably read my mind as he slowly turned around and got closer, again without affecting the fart’s quality and, being a bit taller then me, basically farted on the upper part of my hip. It almost made my entire body shake due to its power and it felt good. Now I really wanted to bend down as if I was tying my shoes but what stopped me this time was also the thought of… not surviving. I was familiar with Dave’s farts but this was absurdly powerful even for him.

And finally, as Dave resumed his previous position, again looking at me, the fart stopped, followed by my friend letting out a relieved whistle, and then an immature cackle.

Not even 2 seconds after that the elevator reached its destination, stopping as well. I jokingly clapped my hand and shook my head in disbelief. “Bravo!” I said, as if I just watched some fancy stage play.

Dave simply smiled and turned his back at me to face the exit, as we both waited for the just-as-slow panel doors to open.

“At least not all the time here was wasted.” he laughed.

“Bro, we had a beer together. That’s never a waste of time for me.” I replied.

“Wow. Rocks, gay and cringe. You got it all, Tim!” he replied.

We both laughed at me being needlessly cheesy and finally stepped out of that gas chamber. Someone stepped in the cab as we left it and the doors closed, leaving us in the hallway at the ground floor. We heard muffled coughing noises almost immediately and we laughed again, as we knew the disgusting reason. Poor, innocent soul.

“Ok but bro” Dave then said, looking a bit more serious. “You gotta do it someday. Trust me you can trust all of us.”

“I know man.” I replied, as we walked towards the exit “Next time I meet Adam, doesn’t matter where and when, I’m gonna tell him that I’m gay.”

My voice echoed in the building and through the stairs, but I didn’t care.

“You’re… gay?”

Okay, I cared.

We both turned around, puzzled.

It was Adam, right behind us (with this dog on leash), descending one last set of stairs before ending up in front of us. Somehow he’s been slower than the elevator, which both me and Dave found hilarious but I also had other emotions going on that moment.

Dave patted my shoulder encouragingly and stepped back: it was my time to shine.

“Yep.” I simply said. “I wanted to tell you hours ago but I didn’t have the guts to do it.”

Adam just stared at me with a confused expression.

I didn’t feel as nervous as I anticipated. “Yes, Dave knows it…” I quickly added, noticing him staring at my other straight bud. “And I asked him to not tell anyone.”

A moment of silence followed and those always feel like they last hours.

“I mean you two clearly have been dating each other for years” Adam joked. “So it’s no surprise, really.”

“WHAT WE HAVE IS SPECIAL!” Dave shouted, jokingly faking a desperate reaction.

I simply laughed and before I could process how well everything was going I felt Adam doing something very unusual for him: he hugged me.

“I’m glad you told me, man.” he simply said. “You know you can count on us.”

I know times have changed and all but this felt like a victory. Every time I’m gonna come out to a friend of mine it’s one step closer to the peak of a mountain and once at the top I will finally-

“Fuck, I forgot my phone.” Adam said, patting his pockets. “I’ll just take the elevato-“

“NOOO!” both me and Dave screamed, knowing that it was still a deadly gas chamber.

Adam simply replied with an annoyed expression and went for the stairs, the dog just behind him.

“Oh hey by the way.” I asked. “What took you so long? You said the elevator was slow but somehow we made it here before you.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” he replied. “It’s just that I heard some weird noises echoing through the stairs and me and another guy tried to understand what it was.”

Dave tried to not to burst into laughter, while I simply smiled like an idiot. Adam and his dog then went up the stairs and left us in silence, not until my gassy bro decided to break it the way he usually does.

A loud fart erupted and echoed through the building, only lasting around 4 seconds this time.

“There it is again!” we heard Adam say, a couple floors above us.

Me and Dave shared an amused look and went outside trying to not laugh like immature idiots. I felt the cold weather all over me, which was relieving considering the gas trap I’ve been trapped into only minutes earlier.

Despite a slow, yet really entertaining elevator ride, and my awkwardness, no time went wasted today.

“I’m proud of you, bro.” Dave said, this time serious, but still smiling.

“Wow.” I replied. “Straight and cringe. You got it all, Dave.” and winked at him.

“Don’t get too cocky now, rock nerd.”

I was rock-hard, to be more precise that’s for sure, but that was a detail I’d take care of later, perhaps thinking back of that absurd elevator ride. Whenever I’m with Dave, I’ll make sure we’re never taking the stairs again.

End of Episode 10

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

48 notes · View notes

the-lack-of-errors-in-star-trek · 3 years

Text

MIDNIGHT FLIGHTS - 0.2

Chapter 2

It had been a few weeks since the strange night had occurred at the bar, and Anna seemed to move on from sleeping with Derek as she had with other partners in recent years.

"He was just too cocky and sure of himself." Anna complained to Nastya over a coffee last week, noting that his lack of being around often, plentiful attitude, and unwillingness to settle in any measure became a turn off for her, "Note to self, don't sleep with Feds." Anna laughs.

Still despite this, every once and a while Nastya would receive a shopping invite from Penelope, her excuse that with the blonde's line of work, some people outside of a federal building would do her some good. They had actually become decent friends, not seeing much of the others, but it was definitely enough to be invited to a friendly brunch. So this is exactly why she had met up with Emily and Penelope five hours after they got back from a cross country flight, a healthy 10am brunch to cut loose and hang around civilians for once.

Nastya was the first there, the reservations under Penelope for four people, leaving the young teacher to wonder who the fourth person would be. Emily is the next to arrive, spotting the table by Nastya's brown hair in a twisted updo exposing her gold necklace over a white sweater, jeans, and heeled boots like usual.

"Privyet," Emily greets her, the two standing to kiss on the cheek, a nice welcome to Nastya who could read that Emily tried wholeheartedly to respect and not insult Nastya's background. "How are you doing?"

"Privyet, I'm doing well," Nastya answers sitting down at the same time as Emily, "How was the great state of California?"

"You know we barely see anything except the crime scene." Emily laughs.

"Yeah that's fair, maybe you ought to go there on an actual vacation, lord knows you all need it." Nastya suggests, while keeping an eye on the door for Penelope to come through with the mystery person. She turns back to the agent in front of her, "Seriously, I don't know how you all do it, that long in a career like this? Anna finds Derek insufferable. It has to take its toll on all of you?"

Emily nods along, readjusting in her seat, "I think Derek coming across as a hot-shot is more to do with his personality than his job, but I do see what you mean." The last part leaves her lips as a laugh.

The conversation between Nastya and Emily picks up the longer they wait, most of it by sharing details of the previous case, save for all of the gore, focused mainly on Emily's gripes with the local Californian PD units butt-hurt that they couldn't handle a serial killer by themselves.

It was during Emily's rant about the police that Penelope walked in with the tall man who drove her home just a few weeks ago, Penelope eager to hug Nastya and sit down, Spencer more awkward just by waving and selecting the seat across from her.

"Is that really true, Pen?" Nastya asks her as Penelope settles into her seat and starts looking at the menu, "Do these people really give you hell just because you're not physically there?"

Penelope nods in response, "Yeah, they don't like how big government can just swoop in and learn everything needed, but it's whatever, I get what I need every time."

Nastya nods along and turns to Spencer, "Nice of you to join us, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing alright, how about yourself?" The answer from him is short and feels scripted, and suddenly Nastya understands Anna, all of these FBI men are very curt and guarded in basic conversation.

"I've been doing good, glad everyone is pretty good given the circumstances." She answers, while understanding that he could have been barely listening. Much of the brunch consists of Natasha interacting with the other women present, and Spencer not really adding much to the conversation. The drinks come and go, as does the food, and for the most part everyone is enjoying themselves.

Spencer can't help but run through an internal monologue, questioning why Natasha puts him off, and why he can't seem to be engaged in the conversation like he would have been at work, or at least without Natasha there. Spencer settled on the possibility that she was just too new to the dynamic, and didn't appear to be a stable fixture, considering it took many months for him to open up to Prentiss, let alone Rossi. Was he really expecting himself to open up to her after a few weeks? It seemed impossible, and yet when she looked at him, and honestly looked him in the eyes, he couldn't help but to feel like he should. Hell, she had all of their numbers, even Morgan's who had stopped seeing Natasha's friend only 6 days and 15 hours ago.

Natasha's voice rang clear, "What's everyone's plans for the rest of this fine Sunday?" She smiles, glancing at everyone in the room, taking notice that Spencer was staring at her passively.

Penelope was the first to answer, "More than likely go home, play some online games, and relax before we get that inevitable phone call from Hotch." To the last part Emily and Spencer chuckle. Emily is the next to speak up.

"Mainly spend some quality time with Sergio and watch chick-flicks." She smiles at the end.

"Your boyfriend?" Natasha asks, causing Emily to laugh.

"No, my cat. But if any man could be as great as him? That'd be a miracle." The response is warm and filled with humour, keeping the topics light. "What about you, Reid?" Emily attempts to rope him into the conversation.

"Library." It's a short answer again, like he just wants to leave the table now. In reality, he'd rather be with his work friends than alone, but can't bring himself to stay interested in much.

Emily raises her eyebrows slightly as a reaction and turns to Natasha reposing the question to her. "And what about you?"

"I'll probably just go home, keep the fort held down while my Mama runs the store." She answers. "Maybe have Anna over to make sure she doesn't get the idea to call your co-worker again." Penelope and Emily can't help but to laugh at the idea. Natasha then looks at her watch. "Speaking of, I should probably foot my bill and take leave, I didn't realize it was already noon."

The table says their goodbyes as Natasha packs up and leaves her payment on the table for Emily to close up, and walks out of the restaurant glad she was able to spend good time with her new friends doing something other than shopping.

As usual, the trip back to the home and store was uneventful. She greeted her mother who was working, by waving to the window as she walked up into the apartment. As she entered the home, she took a moment to really soak in her life, how insane it was to be casual friends with federal agents, as one would just be casually friends with military members in Russia. Sure she knew if any of them came around to this area of D.C. it would spur odd looks by an untrusting immigrant populus, but for the most part all of the people she had met were kind and non judgemental. It would be a lie to say she was unaffected by mob activity on the East Coast, it's mob activity that killed her father, yet somehow even just knowing that her and her mother kept to themselves, their work, and their church created an air of enough safety to at least make those types of friends.

It's on this train of thought she remembers to call Anna. She picks up on the third ring of course.

"Privyet, what's going on?" Anna answers the phone, sounding slightly rushed.

"Privyet Anna, do you have plans today? You could come over, or I could go to your apartment." Natasha keeps the request short but it takes Anna a moment to respond.

"Ummmm, I'm not exactly sure if now is a good time, Nastya. I'm a little caught up in something at the moment." She finally answers Nastya, her voice quieter than usual.

"You're busy? At 2 in the afternoon on a Sunday?" Nastya questions her, already knowing the outcome.

"Look, don't be mad, but he's in the shower, and I need to go before he comes out." Anna rushes the answer, knowing Nastya would berate her for this later.

"Anna! We agreed!" Nastya switches into Russian. "You dumb bitch, kick him out!"

"Love you, bye!" Anna laughs at Nastya's temper, blowing a kiss before hanging up the phone.

The blunt hanging up makes Nastya shake her head, settling down onto the couch to pass her time watching the TV. She knew her mother would be closing up the shop in a few hours, and decided against going back out.

Later that night, as Nastya and her mother sat down to eat dinner, the obvious questions about the day are expressed over the meal.

"How was work?" Nastya asks, savouring the meal in front of her, it was basic, just pan cooked chicken and potatoes, but it was good food with the weather only starting to warm up.

"It was good, thank you Lisichka." Her mother answers after swallowing her mouthful. "You know how that shop is, busy until it's quiet, and quiet until it gets busy." More chewing fills the living area until her mother asks a question. "How was your time out?"

"It was good, the man who drove me home went along with Emily and Penelope. The girls are very welcoming, the men not so much." Nastya answers, fiddling her piece of chicken around on her fork. "I think Anna saw Derek again today, I called and she said she was busy with 'him' but I didn't get a name."

"That Derek boy isn't good for her, too flashy." Natasha's mother laughs. "But she'll do what she wants, I only hope her parents don't throw a fit."

"You never throw a fit when I sleep with someone."

"Because you have good taste, Anna needs a good Russian boy in her life, none of these so-called agents. It'll only make life more difficult for the Lebedev's. They already lost one son, no use worrying over a son-in-law who could also die." Her mother's commentary on Anna's life makes Nastya laugh at first, but then settle due to the nature of the rest of the comment. That was the one aspect of conversation that always made Natasha irritated, of course mothers always loved their daughters, but sons were just revered more, and a son with dangerous work? Anna better plan on having children fast if she were to ever settle with someone like Derek.

"It'll never go that far, Mama, Anna loves fun too much." Natasha covers for her practical sister. "She won't nest a home until she's in her 30's."

"A waste of her youth if you ask me. And what of you? When will you settle down on your fun? Teaching is nice, but I want to see our family name continue as well." The conversation had usually always gone this direction, causing Natasha to lay her fork down.

"Mama, I love you, but please. This isn't Russia, I can marry and have kids whenever I please. Anna too." Natasha leaves the answer stinging in the air, talking about tradition and culture was always a point of contention with her mother, and just as she went to open her mouth, the home phone rang. Natasha went to answer.

"Privyet, Semyonov house." She answers. Thankfully it's Anna on the other end.

"Nastya! Listen, I got the apartment cleaned up, come over?"

"I can't, I have work tomorrow, Anna." Nastya eyes her mother knowing staying here is the only option mentally.

"Jesus, I do too, but you're all caught up no?"

"Nyet Anna, I can't go. We can talk after work tomorrow but it's best if we just stay in, yeah? It's dark out and not the safest. If you need anyone just call Derek again."

"I would but I can't, these fucking agents and being called at any hour of the day, any day of the week. You were right."

"I know I was," Natasha chuckles at her friend's antics. "Stay in, we'll get dinner sometime this week."

"Okay, bye."

"Love you, bye." Natasha hangs up the phone and goes back to the table to discover that in the brief conversation, her mother had finished her plate and started on dishes.

It would be that later in the night, she found herself hovering over the contacts in her phone as she laid in bed trying to go to sleep. Spencer was saved as "Dr. Reid," a note to their acquaintanceship having more merit than a friendship, and she wondered what would have to be done in order to even have a shot at being friends. Sure she had her own, from work, from the church, the people she grew up around, but there was something about Dr. Spencer Reid that made her want to at least try to get to know him.

#criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction

1 note · View note

fimflamfilosophy · 4 years

Text

Characters: Tearing Each Other Together

After the world-sweeping success of my previous article (forty notes on Tumblr, wow!) and being driven out of my house due to mold for the second time in two months, I think the time is right to add another essay to the subject of character design and writing. But what’s left to say after having definitely solved the entire process of character writing the last time?

Well, suppose you can figure out the emotional state of one person. That’s well and good, and oddly harder for people than you might imagine. And I think the reason it’s so hard is because in virtually any show you’re not going to be given a character in a vacuum to learn that process from. They have some story, something they’re trying to overcome, and other characters they’re bouncing off of, and the actual process of conflict is more complicated than knowing who your characters are.

Hate, Love, or Indifference, It’s All A Struggle

So what’s the essence of a story? There’s some motive that’s trying to be achieved. A conflict. And I can’t stress this enough. Conflict. Because it’s one thing if you say your main character is a kid who wants to be the best Poke’mon trainer and completely another to have that be a concrete objective with a satisfying story and conclusion. Wanting to be the “best” isn’t actually conflict. It’s a dream. Being forced to travel the known world to acquire eight gaudy pins that probably cost twenty-five cents each to manufacture? That’s conflict.

And not only do you have to travel the world, you do so with a shrill red-head who explicitly hates you because you trashed her bike, and a sex-starved pervert whose life dream is to make Poke’mon mate with each other for a living. And that’s important. Without Misty and Brock, Ash’s journey is a lot less interesting for a lot of reasons. Misty calls Ash out every time he messes up, and aside from being on a watch list, Brock is a helpful older character who tells Ash, and therefore the audience, what’s what.

But let’s back up, because people understand the benefit of Brock and Misty at a basic level, but when you’re starting off, how do you know who those people should be? Well, every show, from sitcom, to comedy to drama, does its best to balance personalities against each other so there’s always some sort of conflict possible between them.

Now, “conflict” doesn’t mean they’re trying to kill each other. It could mean they’re falling in love with each other. Maybe it means they don’t have much in common but have to work together over long hours in isolation. The idea is simply that there’s something to overcome between these people. Misty thinks Ash is stupid - that’s a conflict which is often leveraged to push Ash forward. Brock, however, has a reactive role in the show, only functioning in conflict when a womanizer who grovels at the feet of ladies Ash is already helping anyway.

It’s odd because if Misty were older she would be set up very well as kind of an “opposites” romantic torture device with Brock. They’re even depicted as professional equals, which would have made their levels of expertise and experience more balanced. Had they been closer in apparent age, a “will they won’t they” romance would have fit adequately, with Brock’s constant hitting on other women serving as a major, hopeless, long-lasting roadblock to a serious relationship between them; it would work especially well because Misty is established to have an inferiority complex to her prettier sisters. It also might help explain why Brock hung around so long. But as it was, Brock’s main contribution to the inner dynamic was to act as a mediator, caretaker, and mentor.

But circling back to Brock’s dream of Poke’mon husbandry. Well, on the meta level that’s why he doesn’t leave. Because it’s not a motive, he’s not taking steps towards it, and it’s not going to happen, it’s just a dream. Until it does happen, anyway, and then they wrote him out of the show - but we’ll dig more into this later.

Balancing Imbalance

The best place to look to see good conflict set ups between characters are popular sitcoms. Consider the show “Frasier”: it ran for eleven seasons and revolved mainly around the personal spats of Frasier, his brother Niles, their dad, and the dad’s caretaker, Daphne. Frasier was arrogant, Niles was insecure, Dad was an earnest roughneck, and Daphne was well-meaning. Frasier and Niles were also elitist pricks at times so they couldn’t even always agree where to eat together, much less with their father who was happier having a burger with ketchup.

Every episode had some central motivator; an ice fishing trip, a joint investment, an awards ceremony - but these things were just catalysts to the main conflict, which was almost always something between characters. We’d seen it time and again, that Frasier and his Dad would come to blows over differences in taste. Niles would try to court Daphne while torn by his commitment to his failing marriage, over and over. But the pithy banter and the way they resolved it would always be new, so people watched this show, episode after episode, for over a decade.

And the simple beauty of it all was that each of the characters had something to do with each other. Whether it be filial obligation, lust, sibling rivalry, friction between introversion and extroversion, or taste in food, they always had some source of conflict to make a show out of. Niles and Frasier were both psychiatrists, but from different schools of thought and different working environments, so they even had chances to butt heads academically and professionally. It was rich with writing opportunities and it’s not any wonder it lasted so long.

Another sitcom, “New Girl”, which was about a group of roommates, had a good dynamic set-up between two characters, Schmidt and Nick. Nick is a messy slob and Schmidt’s a type A neat freak, creating a really obvious source of conflict to work with. But then they had a third character, Winston, who they lampshade as the token black guy.

Now, the joke that Winston is the “black friend” has pretty much no legs, so in the early seasons you see him acting as kind of a third party mediator, or maybe a wild card, and it winds up being funnier when Winston is unhelpful. So as the seasons went on, Winston gradually lost his damn mind. He becomes a cop and meets a woman so that he’d have some character growth and dynamic, but also develops into a man who would burn a building down as a prank. The writers had no idea what they were doing with him and he gradually flew further and further off the handle.

Don’t get me wrong, I really liked Winston as a character. Aside from being funny in the show, watching the writers gradually unglue him from sanity was its own meta comedy above that. I knew they were doing it on accident, but having such a good time with it that it was just going to keep getting worse. In fact a major component of the finale for the whole show is an insane thing Winston does. They wrap the show on the note, “Winston is crazy”. And it all happened because they didn’t figure out what Winston’s conflict was at the start. He didn’t have a source of conflict with anyone, so the man became a living breathing embodiment of conflict in general.

Your Story Ends With the Conflict

Now, the catch is, in any type of fiction, whether a video game, a roleplaying session, or a sitcom, the story ends when the conflict does, because if the conflict is over there’s nothing more to tell! It used to frustrate me to no end back when “My Little Pony” was popular and the other nerds on the internet used to ask, “How many times must Fluttershy learn not to be shy, or that being shy is okay? When will she overcome all that she is and eliminate the core element that creates conflict for her?”

The answer should always be that the character will learn their damn lesson when the show ends or when they’re written off it. If you are sick of seeing a character and don’t want to see them any more, the best thing to do is close out their issues, because once they have no conflicts, they have no story, and there’s no point in doing a show about them. Asking Fluttershy to stop being shy is asking to say goodbye to her, because she's a cartoon and her job is to entertain kids by being neurotic and yellow.

People think they’re so smart when they say they’d solve all a character’s problems if it were them. In the finale to the first season of Poke’mon, for example, Ash decides to gamble his whole championship run on Charizard, who’s a self-absorbed bitch of a creature that ultimately throws the match and leaves it an open question whether Ash might have won if he’d left the team primadonna sitting on the bench.

Some viewers see that and complain it’s the dumbest possible thing Ash could have done, but it’s probably one of the single most brilliant things the Poke’mon writers did in the grand scheme, because think about where it left us. Ash didn’t achieve his goal of proving he’s “the best”, but it feels like a fluke and if he got another shot, he might make it all the way. This gave the show a gateway to more episodes with Ash still having something to prove and a dumb mistake indicating he still had a lot to learn. Because he didn’t win, his story hadn’t ended.

In some cases shows can end characters just by addressing some dream goal they’ve been expressing since the first season. In the case of Brock, they intentionally removed him from the show by introducing him to some girl who was willing to work with Brock in the animal husbandry business. He’d been traveling all this time, his dream opportunity fell into his lap, and he was gone. What reason would he have to refuse, and why would anyone stop him? And of course, Brock’s dream job was incompatible with the central plot elements of the rest of the show, so that was it!

The Format Informs the Conflict

If you want to write something but you aren’t sure when it’s going to end, you need a concrete, long-term conflict that’s not just going to go away. For example, in “Scooby Doo and the Thirteen Ghosts”, there were thirteen ghosts. By design, that show should have ended after Scooby Doo found all thirteen ghosts. It actually ended earlier than that because it was cancelled, but you get the idea. When you have a finite goal, your run time is going to be finite as well.

At least in theory. In “JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure” they establish at the beginning of one season that everyone’s magic powers were based on the Tarot. Now, I don’t know the Tarot off hand, but as the show went on I knew that sooner or later they’d run out of Tarot cards, and in my mind I assumed the season would be over when the Tarot ended. But then I got a good chuckle when a guy showed up and his powers were based on a totally different theme, because I knew the writer had realized he’d stumbled into something good and wasn’t ready to end it. He invented a cheap excuse to keep going! And I think if “Scooby Doo and the Thirteen Ghosts” had been successful they’d have managed to unleash a whole lot more than thirteen ghosts because Hannah Barbera was not exactly a studio with a lot of shame.

Character conflicts like those in sitcoms are a great way to have conflict perpetually, because people don’t really change that much and there’s no reason why most of the fundamental friction shouldn’t be there indefinitely. But of course, character-driven conflict is going to be secondary in an event-driven show. “Jojo” actually does have a lot of character conflict, but the plot is primarily about the battles and the journey - if all the fighting ended Jojo’s characters probably couldn’t carry a sitcom, at least not without some serious hard work, a little genius, and a touch of elbow grease.

For event-driven conflict, you’ll want to establish a target - a moving target if you don't know when the story ends, and that can be pretty difficult. Old action shows and comics used to do it by having a rotating cast of villains, so that after one was defeated another would show up tomorrow, and it was assumed these guys regularly broke out of prison, or they escaped in rocket pods, or whatever, and they’d be back later with a new goofy scheme. In these cases you tend to find reactive heroes; they patrol the streets until a lunatic in tights and a garden-themed hat shows up and transforms everyone into people-shaped topiaries somehow.

For active heroes, you need to establish something that requires a lot of structure, like Ash’s journey to win the Poke’mon League. In every country he visits, they all have this asinine rule that you have to go to eight unique locations and kick the ass of someone who disadvantages themselves with an easily-countered mono team that all have the same exact weakness. You can’t be accepted into the League if you haven’t proven you own a water Poke’mon to utterly flatten the fire gym! Let’s be real, this nonsense is probably designed intentionally as a money gate - most people run out of cash before they qualify. Either way, it ends when Ash wins the league, and he lost the league so the show could keep going.

For roleplaying games, the same rules apply. With your players, you’re either going to establish a reactive goal - an adventuring guild hires a bunch of colorful salarymen with silly accents to go to a dungeon as part of their nine to five job - or you need players to set an active goal for themselves and keep the realization of that goal beyond their reach until you’re ready to end the game.

The Active Hero Acts

In my younger years, I learned to roleplay in almost exclusively player-driven games where we were expected to come up with our own goals and pursue them ourselves, but I’ve discovered that is stunningly rare in most roleplaying circles. Your typical D&D player likes to play the salaryman with a funny accent who doesn’t have to worry about the venturous part of adventure. His boss told him to go to the Cave of Everlasting Wonders and Torturous Screams, recover the Sword of Bad Portent, and then hand it over to the department of magic items where they’ll file the paperwork to get it delivered to the patron that wanted the sword for some reason. No need to have your own motives.

But what if you want to play a crime fighter who actually, you know, busts up all the crime? Clearly you can’t just wait for crime to happen passively - you’ve got to go after people. Act instead of being reactive. Purse snatchers are small time and in a more grounded setting the guys you’ll catch by being passive are just grunts being hired out by someone - usually kids in a lot of cases. You have to seek out the bosses.

Making an active character to fit into any setting can be challenging, and I’ve seen quite a few pitfalls. I think one of the funniest motives is always “the guy who wants to go home” due to its obvious failure condition. A lot of stories are about everymen who just want to get out of trouble, but those stories end when they get out of trouble! In many books, movies, shows, or roleplaying games, you’re almost always going to find opportunities to send that guy home, and you’ll have to either conveniently ignore it, switch motives and decide not to go home, or end the whole story with going home. These characters only work where the story is happening to them and it's all out of their control.

I’ve also seen my share of the “quirky genius inventor/scientist”. When someone designs a character mistaking a dream for a motive. They dream of building a better mouse trap, you see. That’s their inner conflict. And while this is a real world conflict, it’s difficult to make it a good story because actual science and invention involves a lengthy quantity of controlled experiments. You breed hundreds of fruit flies, expose them to nicotine, and try to isolate the gene that causes nicotine resistance. It can be fascinating work at its level but sometimes the most exciting part of your day is when you give yourself a steam burn cooking the fly food. The “quirky scientist” in fiction is usually more of a mentor, and if he insists on staying in his lab doing his work then he’s not even a main character - he’s a guy who explains fruit flies to the audience and then is never heard from again. Other times he’s the asshole who invented the story’s whole problem.

I once played in a game with “the quirky scientist who wants to go home”, and man was that a frustrating ride. The game itself was about occult magic and demons, and for most of the game the scientist was experimenting with teleportation magic to go home and was focused on that above the goal of finding and eradicating demons (the game’s premise). And when he finally met a boss demon that could teleport him home to his lab, he went! We wound up retiring a character who, to be honest, was barely even interested in the main subject of the story. Had he been in a film or a show, they’d have cut the character after the first draft because he served no purpose and wasted screen time.

So how do you make sure your character has a working, proactive goal, in a nutshell? Establish a goal that can be achieved by the character within the framework of your story through action by leaving his house (or after burning his house down so he can’t go home), and then make sure the goal is big enough that it will take many broad steps to get there - those steps need to be concrete and visible, not things that would happen off-screen. Most importantly, tie that goal into the main premise of the story, so that reaching the end of the story generally may achieve what the character wants.

If You Aren’t Trying, It’s Not A Trial

Okay, I understand that last bit probably requires more unpacking. But think of it this way. There’s a writing structure referred to as the “Hero’s Journey”. Basically it goes like this: the hero is forced into adventure, he meets friends and goes through trials, he hits his lowest point, he is reborn into a better man, he ends the conflict, story over.

What I’m talking about specifically right now are the trials. The “wacky inventor” is usually presumed to do all his research off screen because most media likes to focus on the results of the invention and the conflict. But if you were to focus on the trials of a scientist, it’d actually be about procuring research grants and potentially materials. You wouldn’t watch a show about a man who checks gene A-235 for nicotine resistance in flies, then goes on to A-236, then A-237.

If I were to write a story about a researcher, here’s one thing I might do: the researcher fails to find what he’s looking for in gene A-235, and when he goes to seek a grant to look at A-236, he finds one of his colleagues has convinced the university that the protagonist’s research is a dead end. Hearing this, the researcher realizes he’s about to lose his lab, so he writes a bit of a lie into his report on A-235. He says it may prevent cancer.

Now, the protagonist is, deep down, a good man. He thinks this will generate some buzz at the university and get him more funding, but he’ll do a follow-up and show the data doesn’t hold up. After that he’ll ask for money for A-236 and everything goes back to normal. But disaster strikes. His article, which was only supposed to show up in an obscure research journal, gets picked up by a major news network and winds up being spread all over. Suddenly he’s “the man who cured cancer”.

And as he’s trying to figure out how to navigate the issue, another researcher comes out and says that under peer review, he was able to replicate the results. He too shows that A-235 cures cancer! Now the hero isn’t sure. He becomes a celebrity and simply lies about his research because he has no real data, but try desperately as he might, in private he just can’t get the results the peer review insisted were there.

He struggles and struggles, coming to blows with his colleague who’s scrutinizing his research notes. Throw in a love interest who’s impressed with what this guy did, and actually I think I’ve just described the plot of some movie I saw a long time ago about faking cold fusion. I think Albert Einstein was a supporting character in it. In my version the twist would be the peer reviewer was also trying to get a grant by lying. Point is, the central conflict of the film certainly isn’t the scientific process, it’s all the crazy crap that happened on the way from point A to point B.

The story is in the trials. If nothing changes, if the character doesn’t have to change their way of life or go through anything special, it’s either not a story or it’s not your typical story. There are plenty of experimental films or well-regarded books that can make a certain banality become interesting. Stories that explain the simple struggles of day to day living for people on hard times. But the trials, the palpable challenges, that’s really the meat of it all. When you think of what your character should be doing throughout the story, he should be going through these efforts, these steps, these trials, all in the name of whatever his broader goal is.

Where You Start Affects Where You End

It also matters quite a lot when and where characters are introduced. A lot of tales follow some basic notes, and one of the more common elements is “crossing the threshold”, which prevents your characters from going back to their life before the adventure. It’s used because it compels the characters forward, as they have no other direction they can go. It can be anything: the character’s home town is destroyed, the character commits a crime, he accepts a contract, his mother dies - so long as it prevents him from going back. It’s especially useful in roleplaying games where you really need everyone to be driving forward.

In one such roleplaying game, I got in a spat with the guy who wanted to run the game because I was trying to make a leader character, but the game master wanted to base his game around a movie he’d seen with a single main character. He’d elected another player to be that main character, and explained to me he’d be starting the game after that character had already crossed the threshold and had begun his journey. This meant that everyone else were supporting cast and could go back to their normal lives at any time, because they were coming willingly from where they were and not really facing any drastic changes to their personal status quo.

I eventually resolved not to play in that game at all, because none of the character dynamics I wanted were going to work. It was supposed to be a “wannabe” superhero game, with the premise that everyone wanted to be heroes, except one player had already started the journey and it turned out another had already reached the end of that arc and was going to play a character that had been a hero going on years before the story began. There was no plan to really reconcile the narrative clashes.

If that game were to work as it was, without me being present, then the person playing the pre-established hero would have needed to take the mentor role. The other players besides the main character would have needed to be comfortable in auxiliary roles, and the group would have to play as though they were part-way into the story. Still learning to be a team but well past the initial stages of a plot, and they’d all need to think up reasons to be in this group individually on their own, because the threshold had already been crossed and they didn’t cross it together.

The friend running the game was actually dismissive of my advice here, arguing that I was overcomplicating everything with a meta analysis of narrative and structure when all we need is a basic drive to play, and I don’t think he realized he’d set himself up with a much more complicated game and less cohesive premise by going about things as he had.

The already established hero couldn’t be the mentor because a mentor character had already been created as an NPC. The auxiliary players weren’t really informed at the outset they’d be auxiliaries - especially not me who’d wanted to play the team leader. The player who’d been designated as the central protagonist didn’t want to lead or be the central protagonist. It could have worked, but it would have taken a lot more planning and many more concessions than a typical game.

In a more recent game, I’ve got another bit of an issue with the start misleading the general goals of the players. It’s a sci-fi game, and first, one player is doing “the quirky inventor scientist”; his current stated dream is vaguely to create transhumanist technology. He also wants to play the leader, so he established himself as the most important man nobody has ever heard of. He has spies in every major institution in the known galaxy and is a genius beyond comparison. He’s currently based in a rusting pirate ship in the middle of the space boonies doing nothing with his life save being the most important man.

Meanwhile, I set up a disgraced military officer with a revenge quest against his own nation. But the pirate crew my character joined turned out to not believe in structure nor leadership and they killed their last commander to have a system of “democracy”. My structure-minded character has tried to take the lead and drive us forward, but he runs into general deconstructive resistance and the “quirky scientist” wants to be the leader, but hasn’t yet expressed self-motivated goals.

It’s not exactly my most harmonious game and there’s quite a lot going wrong here, but here’s how it could have worked: first, establishing that the crew of the pirates respects no leadership places the entire crew in the precarious position of being “chickenshit” at the outset. That kind of incohesiveness is why a band of rogues gets easily defeated; it’s not the behavior of scrappy men of action, but hopeless men of inaction. A corrupted “democracy” collectivises failure while awarding success to whoever actually has the most power in the group structure - it protects the weak leaders from responsibility and disincentivizes good work by allowing those same men to reap rewards while offloading the burdens to those lower on the ladder. In essence, “If things are screwed up, blame the democracy. If things are good, I did it.”

What should have happened was the “quirky scientist” should have been in charge to start with, because otherwise he has no reason to be on board the ship. He’s the most powerful man in the galaxy, after all. If it were because he was financing the pirates to go on raiding and salvage missions relevant to his research, then it would make sense. He’d have a purpose and a position of leadership just as the player wanted. It would also establish the pirates have some command structure and a level of respect for it that allows them to function.

And the power struggle between the disgraced officer and the scientist? Perfectly reasonable character conflict that would drive actual, meaningful roleplaying and story. The scientist may bankroll the operation but the officer is the tactical talent and the two pull in opposite directions, as power-hungry men often do.

However, the opportunity to start with a sensible and meaningful social dynamic has passed, and on top of that the “quirky scientist” keeps his galaxy-wide power a secret, so it’s all kind of messy and “badly written” in the sense that most audiences would be generally rooting for the crew to fail, and they’d find the grand reveal of the scientist’s galactic power to be frustrating and unrewarding because it’s more of a plot hole than anything. So close on so many counts and yet so very far, and the opportunity to pull it together eventually is present but a more challenging and uphill battle than getting it right at the outset.

In The End, Did We Even Learn Anything?

Creating a character is easy, in my opinion. Creating a working story with a group of self-driven characters can be a lot harder. This is especially true of roleplaying games or of cooperation with multiple writers, where you need to be on the same general page with a committee. It can help a lot to establish the exact conflicts at the beginning, but as can be seen with Winston from “New Girl” or the later seasons of “My Little Pony”, what you have can morph beyond your control as things go on.

Sometimes you never had control in the first place. Sometimes you lose control because you conclude the original conflict of your story and struggle to find a new one - the brand is too successful to let go. Maybe an executive comes in and injects an idea that throws the entire balance of everything totally out of whack and now nothing works. Sometimes your friend thinks story structure is overrated. It’s a difficult juggling act.

So at the end of this essay did we even learn anything? It depends a lot on what you’re trying to do and what you wanted to learn. If you’re the more typical Dungeons and Dragons group, you don’t need to think much about this. Just make your characters and passively react to activities handed out by Dungeons, Dungeons & Co - your conflict is event-driven. Are you writing a sitcom? Well, balance a tangled web of conflicting character habits and write the ensuing disaster. Want to make a complex film about a group of highly motivated, proactive people with sophisticated individual goals that ultimately converge while still respecting their rich, conflicting, inner politics, and do all that writing as part of a team? Well, good goddamn luck, but with the right start and enough care you can make it happen.

#essay

34 notes · View notes

taehyungiestummy · 4 years

Text

Stuck -- Chapter Nine

Masterlist Previous Next

Word Count: 3018

“This brings back such amazing memories,” Emily smiles as our boys begin their performance. “New York was an okay city for you, right?”

“Even if it wasn’t, I have moved passed my meltdown and all the sadness that befell me last year,” I twist around so I’m upside down on the couch. “This is about being close to the best boys in the world, and having a great time traveling.”

“Look at you, stronger than I have ever seen you. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I’m no longer a scared little girl,” I focus my gaze on the TV that is playing the performance. “I am sad you have to leave in a few days.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” she shakes her head, patting my knee. “You’ll be fine anyways. Seven boys will be right with you the whole time.”

“Yeah, and I am madly in love with one of them.”

“It was fun to explore the city yesterday. Better than last year.”

“I actually had fun shopping,” I smile at how much fun the boys are having on stage.

“Oh, did you? What did you even get?”

“Books and some video games. Tae picked out some shirts he thought I would look adorable in. I helped Yoongi and Jimin get some albums.”

“You are such a nerd,” she chuckles.

“Geek, “I tap her with my sock-clad foot. “That’s the word.”

“Ah, my apologies then.”

“What did you get while shopping?” I giggle as Taehyung pulls a silly face.

“Mainly clothes,” Emily walks over to get a water from a container of ice. “Namjoon has amazing fashion sense. He helped me pick out some great outfits. Hoseok and Jin were fun to talk to as we walked around the mall.”

“It’s always nice to have lunch together,” I smile as Emily places an energy bar on my stomach. “So many great places to eat in the city. Made me happy that we decided on a sandwich place.”

“It was quite yummy,” she plops down next to me. “Are you excited for your dinner with Yoongi?”

“Of course,” I grab my energy bar, flipping around so I’m sitting up right. “I don’t know what he wants to talk about, but I love hanging out with my brother.”

“I’m sure some people will spread the rumor that you two are dating. Like they did very briefly last year.”

I roll my eyes, “People will say any stupid thing to try and break apart relationships. I’ve posted multiple pictures of Taehyung and me clearly showing we are dating. Then sibling-esque pictures of Yoongi and I.”

“Your Instagram is such a lovely account,” Emily leans into me.

“Thank you. I spent a long time making it look professional. Lots of nice comments. Hate deleted in an instant.”

“That’s good. Hate is just from scared people who are insecure. They want to take others happiness for no real reason.”

“I know. The boys get it too. It makes me so angry and sad. Tae sees it directed at me, and he can’t stand it. He loves me so much, and wants everyone who calls themselves ARMY to do the same.”

“They don’t have to love you, but if they are true supporters of the boys, they will accept their relationships. Just how it goes.”

“I understand their reasons for it. Not saying it’s oaky, but I can get why they would feel hurt. Some of them really loved Taehyung. They wanted to get with him, but I stopped that from ever happening. I don’t feel bad that I took him from any of them. I just get why they feel hurt and the need to be hurtful. It doesn’t hurt any less, but it helps to know how they are feeling.”

“I’m glad that I don’t have to deal with that. Even after the meet and greet, I am still hidden from most of the ARMY.”

“I’d say lucky, but I love having my relationship public. Tae and I can go on dates without worry, and hold hands in public without rumors spreading. We can kiss in public and see the pictures later, which is actually so cool and interesting to see. It was an accident that it happened, but I am so glad it did.”

We spend the rest of the concert in silence, watching our boys do what they love so much. Taking advantage of the drinks and snacks throughout the room.

“That was so awesome,” I jump out of my seat as the TV goes black.

“You’ll get sick of it eventually,” Emily chuckles. “You will see it so many times.”

“Everyone is different though, and watching them have so much fun on stage, that will never get old.”

“I guess I can agree with that.” “Now come on,” I grab her wrist, pulling her towards the door. “We have some boys to go greet.”

********

“How can you boys not be tired?” I giggle as I walk out of the hotel bathroom, looking around at Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung messing around.

“Don’t worry, we will be out soon,” Jungkook flops onto the bed he has to share with Jimin.

“Sure,” I chuckle. “I’m beat. I don’t know how you guys do it.”

“No, jagi,” Taehyung rushes over to me, placing his hands on the back of my thighs. “We were talking, and we want you to dance what you know for ‘Fire.’ I know you can do it,” he gives me thighs a squeeze.

“Tae,” I whine, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Always so touchy.”

Taehyung gives me a quick kiss before heading over to settle into our shared bed. “Do you need us to sing?”

I laugh, moving to an open area in the room. “I can do it.”

“Singing and dancing, are you sure?” Jimin smirks.

I roll my eyes, getting into my starting position.

Rooming with the maknae line has been lots of fun. It’s hard not to smile with all the little games they want to play, and all the love they show for me. This is only the second night with them, but I never want us to not be traveling roommates.

“Five, six, seven, eight,” I count off for myself, diving into the song.

The dance moves are not too complicated, and everything flows perfectly. It’s an upbeat song, putting a smile on my face. Even if it is just me singing. My dance routine comes to an end, giving the boys their chance to clap and give compliments.

“Your singing voice has improved so much,” Jungkook speaks up first. “And, you sung in Korean. Very adorable.”

“You are too nice,” I fix the oversized sweatshirt of Taehyung’s that he is forcing me to wear. “I’ve ben practicing,” I nervously smile, feeling my shoulders rise to try to hide my burning cheeks. “Glad I don’t sound like a dork.”

“Kookie is sucking up,” Jimin shoves the youngest boy.

“Is my singing bad?” My shoulders fall, and I stick my lip out in a pout.

“What? No!” Jimin flails his arms in a dismissive manner. “Your singing is quite lovely. Deeper than most girls, but that doesn’t make it bad.”

I chuckle, “I was just teasing, Chim-Chim. It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

He gives a sly smile, “You little shit. You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you were going to cry.”

I giggle, “Sorry. That was not the intent.”

“You are lucky you are so cute,” he winks. “Whit those legs peaking out of the bottom of that sweatshirt. You look so cuddly.”

“Thank you,” I shuffle around on my feet for a few seconds. “I’ve learned to love my legs, so thanks for liking them as well.”

“Jagi, your dancing is better than mine. You’ll have to give me private lessons,” Taehyung smirks, suggestively raising his eyebrows, sending a wink my way. His tongue teasingly running over his lips a few times.

“What?” I skip over to my boyfriend, cupping his face in my hands. “No, you’re way better than me. I’m the one who needs more lessons. Maybe, tomorrow?” I place a kiss to his nose. “God, I love your nose.”

“I love you,” Taehyung grabs me by my hips, throwing me into the middle of the bed.

“Tae!” I squeal, laughter pealing out of my throat.

“My princess!” He exclaims and then begins to attack me with his fingers.

“Tae…Tae…babe…Tae…hyung,” I manage to breath out through the laughs that wreck my body. “Ple…please, stop.”

His fingers stop, a hearty chuckle leaving his lips. “How can you be so beautiful?” His boxy smile is what I am drawn to.

I’m panting as I come down from the high of being tickled. Happy tears stuck to my eyelashes and cheeks. My cheeks flushed because of the quick exertion, and from the blush creeping slowly due to my position. Taehyung has my hands pinned near my head, making my only movement the wiggling of my butt. My sweatshirt has ridden up to expose my tummy, lucking not any higher as I have no bra on. The shorts I have on have fallen to low on my hips.

“How, jagi, are you so beautiful?” Taehyung asks again, pressing his lips against mine.

I lazily smile, knowing that my hair is a mess around my head, and the acne clear to everyone’s eyes. “I am beautiful because you say I am.”

“It’s true,” he releases my hands.

“Good thing Amber took her glasses off already,” Jimin speaks up. “Because they would be broken.”

I sit up, running my hands through my tangles to fix the mess. “That’s just what we need, a fuzzy vision Amber.”

“It’s just far away, right?” Jungkook asks.

I nod, “Correct. Now, my turn to ask a question,” I look right at Taehyung. “Why didn’t you tell me about your glasses?”

“Always little secrets kept between you two,” Jimin shuffles under the covers.

“I didn’t tell you because I don’t think I look good in them,” Taehyung is resting back on his elbows. “Just like you wouldn’t show me your glasses.”

“You look so handsome with your glasses, Tae,” I ruffle his hair. “Very smart looking too.”

“ARMY won’t know they’re real until you tell them,” Jungkook is now under the covers.

“I’ll help you build confidence,” I fix my clothes before climbing under the covers.

Taehyung smiles, following my lead to get under the covers. “You are an angel.”

“Jungkookie, can you please turn off the light?” I hum as Taehyung wraps his strong arms around my middle, pulling me back to have my back flush on his chest.

“Sure thing,” Jungkook quickly plunges the room into darkness.

My eyes flutter close, feeling at peace.

“I love you, princess,” Taehyung whispers right into my ear. “I should buy you a tiara.”

I place my hands on top of his. “I love you, Tae. Don’t get me a tiara.”

“That’s not up for you to decide,” he kisses the top of my ear. “I’m going to spoil you so much. Don’t you worry about that.”

“Please, don’t go overboard. I’m content with just being with you.”

“Excuse me, couple in love,” Jimin’s voice slices through the quiet. “Can you please stop whispering so we can get to sleep?”

I chuckle, “Sorry Jimin-oppa. We will stop talking.”

“Good,” his smirk is clear in his tone. “Night, cutie.”

“Goodnight everyone!” I giggle as Taehyung places open mouth kisses on my neck. “Sweet dreams.”

********

“This was a great idea,” I smile, sipping on my milkshake. “No crazy boys, nice music playing, and a pizza coming soon.”

Yoongi grins, “It is very nice. Calming, to say the least. No yelling, and I get to spend a few hours with my favorite girl.”

Yoongi and I decided on a small pizzeria on the outskirts of New York City. The ratings were high, and it looked to have a nice interior from the pictures. We are seated in a back booth; the lights are turned down for the evening crowd. Music is softly playing, and it’s actually good.

“Am I really your favorite?” I feel my cheeks heat up.

“Of course,” he sips his water. “Have I never told you?”

“You probably have,” I shrug. “I’m just surprised there isn’t another girl in your life.”

“I am too deep in my work to have a girlfriend to worry about. Besides, it’s enough work worrying about you.”

“Shut up,” I giggle. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I will. For now.”

“Even with Tae being glued to my side and dating over me.”

“Of course. I’m your brother, so I have other things to worry about than he does. Mainly, him.”

I pat Yoongi’s hand that is resting on the table. “He’s been good so far. He is a gentleman, Yoongi, when with me at least.”

“I know. Still, I worry. Tae is a loyal puppy, but can get distracted. I don’t mean with other women. He seems to focus on you when together, though. Very protective.”

“He is, and I love it. When he gets jealous though, that’s when it can get kind of annoying and out of control when it goes too far.”

“I thought you like hot jealous Tae?” Yoongi teasingly smirks.

“Why would you think that?” I drink my milkshake to cool my face.

“Taehyung blurts stuff out sometimes,” he shrugs.

“Okay y’all,” our waitress, Ashley, bounds up to our table. “Here is your extra pepperoni pizza, and garlic knots,” she set sets the food down in the middle of our table.

“Thank you so much,” I smile, speaking to the girl in the language, she can understand.

“Oh, you are so welcome,” Ashley gushes. “Was the milkshake as good as I said?” The southern girl is sincere, and not just faking kindness for her job.

“It is so good,” I tap my glass with my index finger. “I’m glad you talked me into it.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two to enjoy your dinner. Such a cute couple.”

Yoongi perks up at the girl’s statement, but says nothing.

“Oh, oh no,” I look between Yoongi and Ashley, stopping on Ashley after a few seconds. “We aren’t a couple.”

“Oh,” Ashley is genuinely shocked. “So, are you friends on an experiment date?”

“No,” I shake my head. “It’s not like that at all.”

Yoongi tears a piece off a garlic know, but continues to stay silent.

“Then what is it?” Ashley curiously asks.

“Yoongi, he’s, he is my brother,” I tell the stranger something only my close friends know. My heart beat speeds up, and I feel butterflies swarm in my stomach. It makes me so happy to tell someone outside of the ones closest to mee who already know.

“Really?” Ashley breaks me out of my thoughts. “Like, blood related? I never would have guessed.”

“Step,” I answer, like I’ve explained it a thousand times before. “My mom married his dad some years ago. We didn’t grow up together, really, but I’ve always seen him as a brother.”

“That’s even sweeter than you being a couple,” Ashley places a hand over her heart. “I’ll leave y’all to eat then,” she smiles before rushing off.

“What was that all about?” Yoongi asks, snapping me back into Korean.

“What was what?” I innocently ask, taking a slice of pizza and placing it on my plate.

“What you just told our waitress. It’s like you’ve thought about it before. Just for that kind of situation.”

“Maybe I have, or it just came to me. I just didn’t want her to have the wrong idea. I never want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“Like that one girl at the fan meet. I understand. It was cute.”

“It made me feel good, telling someone that you are my brother,” I take a big bite of my pizza.

“Did it?” Yoongi shoves more garlic knot into his mouth.

It takes me a few moments before I can speak again. “Yes. Like when I tell people that I am dating Tae. I love him, and I love you so much. It’s a different love, thought. With Tae, I want to kiss him, snuggle up to him as I fall asleep, live with him, build a family, and more. So much more. With you, I want to hug you, sip coffee or hot chocolate, and talk about mental health. I want to help you with music endeavors, read you my poems, read books with chilling in your studio, and do sibling things.”

“I’ll make sure we will,” Yoongi grabs my milkshake, take a sip.

“Why’d you do that?” I shove more pizza into my mouth.

“Isn’t it what siblings do?” He smirks, setting the milkshake back in front of me.

I smugly smile, “Look at you, being a big brother.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“Min Yoongi loves his little sister,” I giggle.

“Little one, you are so testy right now. I will ground you or something like that.”

Both of us laugh at how dorky we are sounding.

“Really, Yoongi, you are the best,” I nervously push my glasses up my nose. “You have been a blessing.”

“I try,” he leans over to shove some garlic knot in my mouth. “I think I will teach you to play the piano.”

“Oh, will you now,” I say through chewing the garlic knot.

“Swallow, then talk,” Yoongi gives me a disgusted look.

“Sorry,” I wash the food down with some milkshake.

“You’re forgiven.”

“So piano then?”

“Yes, it’s a love of mine, and I want to share it.”

“I look forward to it.”

“How has rooming with the maknae boys been?”

“Good, good,” I think back to the craziness of yesterday. “Tae and I danced while the others were out. Private lessons at one another. Then when Jimin and Jungkook came back, video games for hours.”

Yoongi chuckles, “That sounds fun. I just slept and wrote music.”

“And worried about me?” I stuff pizza into my mouth.

“Yes, and worried about you,” he slightly shakes his head. “Just shut up and eat, you little dork.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you enjoyed reading! A bit shorted but a slightly big think is happening next, and I want it to start a chapter. :)

#BTS #BTS fan fiction #BTS x OC #BTS imagine #Jungkook x OC #Jungkook imagine #Taehyung x OC #Taehyung imagine #Jimin x OC #Jimin imagine #Namjoon x OC #Namjoon imagine #Hoseok x OC #Hoseok imagine #Yoongi x OC #Yoongi imagine #Seokjin x OC #Seokjin imagine #My OCs

6 notes · View notes

imagines-forthe-soul · 6 years

Note

Can I request a scenario with dabi ?! When his s/o is quirkless and got in trouble with other villans? Not something extreme but more like a bank robbery and he literally panicked since he knew those villains who won't hesitate to kill at all.. so let's say dabi is doing a hero job unintentionally just for his girlfriend but ends up rescuing everyone and all heros got confused 😂 but at least they know even villains have heart

I hope you enjoy this, love! Sorry it took me so long to do, but I really hope you like the way this turned out!

Warnings: Violence, implied sexual themes(?), blood, spelling mistakes maybe, idk what else, DABI

Dabi:

Looking back at it, you should have known something was upwhen your entire week had gone so well. You had gone the week with nothing butgood luck and smiles, but now it had all turned to ashes when you decided to goto the scruffier parts of town to get some money your parents had sent down foryou. All the other banks that accepted your type of card had been filled to thebrim with people due to it being pay day, and most of the ATMs in your area hadbeen shut down, drawing people to the ones that were functioning, lines stretchinglong into the parking lots and streets.

You hated going to this part of town, but you knew not manypeople would come out of their way to use the crummy bank down here, and forgood reason. On your long walk towards this bank, you had stubbed your toe onseveral rocks, almost twisted your ankle after stumbling into a pothole, andripped open a hole in the bottom of your shoe.

When you were finally in thebank, the lines weren’t as long, which was good. Your timing perfect since youhad caught this bank before rush hour set in, but little did you know that iswhat a few shady looking people within the bank were hoping for. Having a bankrobbery right before rush hour when most of the police officers were mainlycruising about, getting ready for the inevitable rush of traffic to soon swarmaround them was a perfect idea. By the time the police were notified, theywould have to fight against the heavy traffic to come to this specific bank,the bank that was miles away from the city, the bank that you just had to cometo today and this time.

That’s how you had found yourself in your current situation,lined up along the farthest wall within the bank, trembling in fear with manyof the civilians who had come to this bank at the oh so perfect time. Thugsdressed in dark clothes pointed their guns and readied their quirks at the lotof you, threatening to use them if anyone so much as moved. Civilian men, women,and children surrounded you in fear, looking onward at the villains before themas they threatened and harassed the bank tellers, shouting and demanding asmuch money they could fit in the stereotypical money bags they had brought withthem.

This is not how you wanted to spend your free time today.Already having been exasperated by today’s previous events, you really weren’tin the mood to be held up. You were sure you could subdue at least one of thesethugs, having had some run-ins of your own with villains that looked much tougherthan these ones, but these guys were armed and there were too many people atrisk. You raked your mind together, trying to think of something you couldpossibly do to get yourself and everyone else out of this situation. You lookedaround the bank space, trying to locate some sort of weapon you could use orany object that could be used to cause a distraction, but nothing turned up. Witha light frustrated sigh, you patted around your person, hoping that you hadsomething on you that you could use. You dug around in your pockets, feeling anumber of different object brush against your fingertips.

Before pulling any of them out, you looked over at the thugs,most of them occupying themselves with getting the money whilst the rest busiedthemselves with idle conversation, weapons and quirks pointed leisurely at youall lined up against the wall. You figured with all of them mostly distracted,you could silently pull the items out of your pockets for you to examine. What youhad on you was nothing special or exactly useful: lint, Chapstick, some gum, andyour phone.

Your phone!

How could you have been so dumb! You bit your lip, trying tokeep down your excitement upon finding something useful to use, but yourexcitement soon died when you weren’t sure who you should be calling. There wasalways the obvious choice, the police, but you were sure that the sirens andflashing red and blue lights would alert the thugs and have them go on arampage. You couldn’t imagine how many people could possibly get hurt if somethinglike that were to happen. You grit your teeth, trying to think of a betteroption and before too long, it hit you.

Despite the other people around you silently shaking their headat your actions, frightened that you would alert one of the thugs and get anyof them hurt, you hastily typed at your phone, writing a message to the only personyou knew would be able to handle this situation without problem and still beable to get you and everyone else out unscathed.

Ten minutes had passed since you made and sent that message,chewing on the inside of your cheek as you waited for your ‘savior’ to come. Thethugs had grown impatient with waiting for the tellers to fill the bags totheir desired amount and now had begun harassing the civilians around you,threatening their lives and jostling them about. Eventually, one of them hadpicked you, standing you up and holding a blade to your neck.

“If you don’t start hustling, this pretty girl right here isgoing to end up a whole lot less pretty. You really want her death on yourmind?!!” Shouted your captor, holding you in an iron grip as he pressed theblade closer and closer to your neck. You winced at the stinging feeling of theblade cutting into your skin, the hairline slash being enough to bring tears toyour eyes already, blurring your vision. Your heart clamored against yourribcage, your breathing staggering as all you could do was just stay still asif to not let the blade do anymore damage it has already done.

For a while, no body moved, looking towards you and yourcaptor in fear and worry, breaths stilled, bodies immobile. It was only when thesound of shattering glass and the smell of smoke filled the air did peoplestart moving, trying protect themselves from the glass shards and the heat ofthe blue flames that entered the bank. Flames that you recognized and more werethan happy to see.

“You should put that knife down before you end up hurtingyourself and your buddies,” the raspy voice coming from the smoke said, soonstepping forward and showing who it belonged to; Dabi, your boyfriend. A smallsmile formed on your face as you saw him, your eyes meeting his for a moment,but the moment was ruined as the thug hold you wrenched your neck back,pressing the knife harder against your throat, this time drawing blood.

Big mistake.

If there was one thing you knew for certain, it was thatDabi didn’t like other people touching what was his. Being his girlfriend meantbeing a part of his property, and he’d be damned if he let anyone or thing messwith what was his.

Before the thug could even utter out a threat, Dabi hadalready advanced towards him, blue flame shooting form his hand, directed rightat the man holding you. As he got closer, Dabi pulled you free from the man’sgrip, holding you to his chest protectively, watching as the man flailed andburned, his screams bringing a smile to his face as you watched in horror.

Your gaze shifted from the burning thug to the civilians andremaining around you, watching as they too looked frightened. A few of thethugs were horrified into salience, their knees visibly shaking. The resthowever, weren’t as foolish as to just stand around watching and instead tookaction, charging towards you and Dabi.

Yet another mistake.

With a simple wave of his hand, Dabi had ignited blue flamesaround them men, trapping them in a circle of blue hellish flame that slowlycreeped closer to them. All the while, you clung to Dabi’s side, standingbehind him as to not fall victim to the heat of his quirk.

Once he was done, he sneered at the thugs, giving a dry laughbefore turning towards you, placing a deft finger on your neck to wipe away thethin line of blood that was trailing down your jugular. “Come on, we’re leaving.You owe me for this shit.” He said, wiping the blood on his shirt beforegrabbing you by the arm, ready to haul you out of the bank.

You let him drag you along for a few beats, momentarilystunned by the events that had just played out, but soon you are knocked backto your sense, pushing Dabi’s hand away from you. He looked back at you, eyebrowquirked in question. You exhaled, soon taking in a deep breath before youpointed behind you at the scared and struggling civilians trying to make theirway out but were constantly blocked by Dabi’s flames.

He followed your finger, looking between you and them andthe exit to the building. He had a strong urge to just leave you and thembehind, rather leaving and letting you help them, but he knew that if he didthat, he wouldn’t hear the end of it from you.

With a deep sigh and one last look to you, he raised hishands towards the flames blocking the path of the civilians, clenching it intoa fist and letting the fire surrounding them die out, stepping aside as theyall rushed out of the building, leaving you and Dabi behind to follow them out.

“You really are a pain. First you text me some shit about arobbery whilst I’m relaxing and then you make me save some shit civies. You oweme big time.” He says to you as the both of you begin to walk out. You rollyour eyes at his words, holing onto his arm.

“You would rather have me call upsome other hero or the police and end up dying because these thugs got butthurt about it? When you save me, you’re still saving a civi. This time you didthat helped out a few more. I’m proud of you.” You tell him, hugging onto hisarm. Dabi is unmoved by your words however, his eyes and mind elsewhere,more specifically, on a few bags of money the thugs had the tellers collectingfor them. He removed himself from your grip, walking over to them nonchalantly andslinging them over his shoulder, soon walking back to you.

“Dabi!” you shout, frowning at him, “You can’t take those!”

“Would you shut it, woman. You need money to get that cutchecked out. And like I said, you owe me. This is the first part of yourrepayment.” He said, standing in front of you, expression black but you couldsee it in his eyes that he wasn’t planning on leaving this money behind.

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine…keepthe money. I’m not using it though. I can pay with my own money.” You told him,puffing your cheeks out in defiance. The two of you then began walking out ofthe bank, keeping to the outline of the crowd that had formed as to not beenseen by the police that that finally arrived.

You were happy to be safe and out of that situation now,hugging your boyfriend’s arm as he lugged the bags of money over his shoulder. Asoft smile made its way onto your face, looking up at him with admiration. “Imeant what I said about being proud of you…You really did a good job today.” Youpressed a kiss to his arm as he grumbled, though didn’t push you away.

“Shut up about it. Shut up about all of it. I don’t need anymore people knowing about it than there already are. I just want to go home andget the rest of what I’m owed.” He said, though a puzzled look overtook yoursmile at his words.

“What else do I even owe you? You have your money.” It was Dabi’s turn to smile, laughing darkly before hespoke.

“You owe me a blow job and a night of raw fucking.” A blush made its way onto you face and you gasped up at him,eyes wide.

“What’s wrong with you! You’re such a pervert!”

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero scenarios #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia #dabi #bnha Dabi

218 notes · View notes

whiskerheir · 6 years

Text

UZUMAKI * just gonna put this down for my forgetful ass.

close relations between the uzumaki & uchiha clan. this would include the friendships between mikoto, fugaku, kushina, and minato as parents along with itachi having to babysit with looking after the two of them. probably how well the two clans worked together during the time of minato’s hokage reign. the fact that naruto was probably ALMOST ADOPTED by mikoto & fugaku uchiha but the third hokage forbid it. in some ways danzo was also probably behind it, not wanting the power of sharingan & kyuubi in close distance of each other. the third simply just wanted naruto to basically suffer.

as stated above, rework former headcanon on previous blog to update it

forgiving itachi in understanding the sacrifice he made to guarantee the safety of both sasuke, naruto & the entire village as a whole ( mainly his little brother ofc )

naruto’s interests that vary from a little gardening, to learning little medical skills from baa - chan, sakura and ino both. although his own body can heal rapidly due to kurama it just never hurt to have a bit more knowledge just in case SOMEONE needed that kind of help and we know that naruto would just freak tf out & probably cause more harm than good in doing so.

he fucking loves ASTRONOMY so he’s signed tf up. he loves stars & all that good shit.

continue to harness knowledge and understanding of what kind of control over his power he can muster, thus having to train along with kurama whenever he has that free time. let’s face it , kurama ain’t going nowhere. continuing to build up his own PERSONAL jutsu, some of his father’s as well & perhaps using his flying thunder god kunai. he still has the very same ones during the great war, even those used in final moments before death those years ago. naruto treasures them & respects what his parents knew and went through for him. hell, he even does some training with kakashi - sensei and shikamaru whenever he uses them to see what he could pick up on.

the good boy that he is always lending a helping hand , be it daily tasks around the village, the orphanage, academy, even as far as to make sure that everyone knows how important they are. does naruto still feel that pang in his mind and heart from those younger years? yeah, a lot. not like he’s gonna let that stop him. naruto enjoys making friends after all. of course having to make that three day trip to suna is gonna be a pain in the butt but he’s gotta go meet the sand sibs & help them out too !

teach konohamaru everything he’s learned over the years, somewhat being his own sensei in the matter for him to master the rasengan better. he’s got the fire inside him, and he’s pretty much someone he really looks out for as he always seen himself in him from the time they met.

FAMILY REUNION ! oh yeah, he’s gonna track down every uzumaki out there. rebuild the enire family village? damn right. it’s important. karin get in the fucking car.

along those lines he’s actually able to talk to both minato & kushina, although it’s in spirit he’s just so unsure how it happens, not like he’d question it really. if he isn’t getting any advice / help from shikamaru on important things, then he’s seeking guidance from mom n dad. sometimes he doesn’t get the chance, but then there are days where he could spend hours talking to them. naruto still gets upset that they can’t be there when he comes home physically, but he can feel their love no matter what.

#*inhales deeply*#/ ghost writing is annoying but I had to really write more on here bc??? im lov #❛ ✧ ◞ iii. ‹ hc. ／ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉⁿᵗᶦᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵈᵉᶜᶦˢᶦᵒⁿˢ ›#META 001.

2 notes · View notes

advancedpottery217x2 · 5 years

Text

Tears to Tiara II: Haou no Matsuei Review

A post was initially planned to be a /r/visualnovels WAYR post for Tears to Tiara II: Haou no Matsuei (TtT2) but I wanted to say too much so it expanded to become more personal and contain my thoughts on the series as a whole (including Tears to Tiara: Kakan no Daichi (TtT1) and Tears to Tiara Gaiden: Avalon no Nazo (Gaiden)) in addition to my feelings towards the main scenario writer Marui Takeshi).

Have you ever encountered a piece of fiction that conformed to your tastes exceedingly well and seemed to be what you were looking for your entire life? After finishing TtT1 (and Gaiden) last year and 2 half a year ago, I've found myself thinking about why I love this series so much, and what I’ve been looking to get out of visual novels and fiction as a whole.

First, my thoughts on TtT2. For reference, here are thoughts I wrote on TtT1 last year.

Some parts will contain spoilers written in white text and placed in brackets. [Like this.] Tread carefully if you are reading this in an environment where you cannot highlight text.

Story/Characters

失われた女神と覇王の物語

As the tagline above suggests, the story is ultimately about the growth of the protagonist Hamil and the heroine Tarte; there is a much smaller focus on the side characters compared to TtT1. Although this made me feel disappointed, the increased amount of focus on Hamil/Tarte versus Arawn/Riannon made me enjoy the main pair much more than I initially expected and became one of the highest points of the game for me. In this case it more than made up for the otherwise loss of enjoyment from decreased side character events, but it in no way erased that loss. I think whether or not you will enjoy the game depends on this point.

Like TtT1, the plot can be summed up with the word 王道, as an adjective as well as a noun. I liked how Hamil’s struggles finding his place in the world amidst the expectations placed on him seemed to be a natural extension of what Arthur went through in TtT1. The existence of Melqart “within” him and the added contrast with his lineage/surroundings supporting his 覇道 side made for more interesting character growth. This is only enhanced by Matsuoka Yoshitsugu's incredible performance as Hamil (true gap 燃え). I really appreciated how his relationship with Tarte felt more equal and mutual than the one between Arawn and Riannon in 1; while the latter are still a very solid couple, I enjoyed the feeling that the former gave off of being two people struggling to sort out their feelings towards each other while also figuring out themselves and the future of Hispania. 初々しい少年少女という感じで大変可愛いであります！！！ Tarte is a heroine with clear motives who is ready to dedicate herself to Hispania and Hamil (for reasons made clear later in the story) while also not afraid to be harsher to push him in the right direction, a position not unlike Arawn towards Arthur in TtT1. The actual reason that I like these two better is probably because they have more イチャイチャ scenes. They can get ridiculously adorable in one scene and then be deadly serious for the next, which is my ideal for fictional couples honestly.

While the plot developments were also very 王道, I was even able to look over the more overbearing ones due to how they fit in the narrative and/or the atmosphere of the series as I understood it. ...Except for [reviving Monomachus. I can see needing a spear unit, but this was just way too convenient. The case of Tarte in the final chapter had build up (along with that fantastic CG parallel) when compared to Monomachus just... coming back.] In the grand scheme of things, that's my biggest complaint about the game.

There is also a clear divide between the first and second halves of the game at the end of Chapter 6. I've seen reviews saying the second half is lacking (and I can understand why), but I honestly think the game kept up my interest more after the middle climax until the story starts moving towards the end then TtT1 did (although I did think "ah... I guess it can't be a true TtT game without a 闘技大会 stage..."), which is something I can praise 2 for.

The distinctly lower amount of events focused on everyday life made me disappointed a little, as these were a large part of what made me enjoy the cast of 1 and made me see them as a family. Dion being the butt monkey of most of the jokes also got stale after a while, although I didn't expect [for him to get all those events relating to Simon, which gives him a great role which makes him more than that at least]. In terms of my overall opinion of the cast, 1's is much higher but in 2 Hamil and Tarte are just very, very good. Some of my favorites this time around other than the main pair were Kleito, Elissa, [Hasdrubal, Ishtar], and Izebel.

System/Gameplay

The system/UI functions are mainly the same as the previous two games (which also means the one line backlog is still present..,), although I was pleased to find that the possible characters for the system voice-like things you hear when you select an item in the menu in the base screen expanded from just two (Limwris/Ermin) to all the female party members (and the male characters on the map screen). It’s fun hearing all the characters telling you you’re about to save (or be disappointed when you back out of it). Not being able to check your items/character stats at the mid-story save points anymore was a downgrade, though. I also felt that there were less of those save points than in 1, which hurts during some of the longer story segments.

The battle system keeps/expands the elements introduced in Gaiden (item synthesis, traps, magic circles) and reworks what was formerly the changeling system into the Quadriga. While I’m happy about not being forced to use the latter unlike the former, sometimes the Quadriga just goes down too quickly... (´・ω・`) taking all the units inside down with it... (´・ω・`) But luckily in this game there’s a rewind feature that can send you to the start of a turn!! No more fucking around with save states While not as good as the one in Utawarerumono 2/3 (although I can’t complain too much seeing how this came before them), it gets the job done speedily.

Another new feature is the ability to use animals as party members, whether buying them as units from the shop or having Charis charm an enemy animal in battle. I didn’t actually use this that much, except for putting Charis on the gryphon you can buy for better mobility or the boar you can buy for better defense. The elephant that pulls the Quadriga is also a great tank so sometimes I put Charis on her too I guess. I also didn’t use the Melqart/Tanit transformations much, mostly because I didn’t feel like dealing with the decreased stats after the transformation wears off, although the increased stats during the change saved my ass a couple of times. Not being able to use chain attacks is also a marked con, but I guess it’s a price that must be paid to be OP. (´・ω・`)

In terms of game difficulty, I played on Normal and felt that it was harder than Normal in TtT1 and around the same level or higher than Easy in Gaiden (although I did get the all bonus and overall S rank trophies on my first run, which may influence this impression). I don’t know how someone who plays this as their first game in the series would feel though, as I was making sure to avoid common mistakes (not paying attention to element cycle, not using skills, etc.) early on. As the game goes on, spending an hour on a stage becomes commonplace rather than an exception. However, I found myself having fun figuring out strategies to clear every stage so sometimes I wouldn’t even notice how much time I was spending. Except the second fucking dragon stage in the main story fuck you ("ah... I guess it can't be a true TtT game without a BS dragon stage...").

The 50 stage (versus 100 in Gaiden) dungeon in the post-game is where I really felt the pain as everything is just out to get you (and there’s way more dragons). I just decided to grind everyone to level 99 halfway through, which made things easier until you reach the point where you can’t just go around whacking things into submission without thinking. The rewind system is not available for use which factors into the difficulty, but there is a poverty substitution in the suspend save feature. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the plot(?) surrounding exploring the dungeon was much more serious that what Gaiden had, although it was still pretty bare. The ending was nice and sweet as someone who did TtT1 but there was no credits roll like Gaiden had. My only real complaint is that it wasn’t voiced. (´・ω・`)

I bought all the DLC units after the main story and Arawn and Riannon were lifesavers due to their attributes more than once; if you end you playing the game I recommend getting these two if nothing else, especially because the chibi Riannon model is very cute (although Arawn is now 100% an ossan). The other units got some use (except for Beard who is mostly used for MP/CS boosting and/or memes) but they had cute models and level up lines so no regrets.

My main frustration is with how low the drop rates for items are, especially since now I’m looking to synthesize the OP weapons which require some of the rarest drops. Taking an hour to get one item is a bit much. (´・ω・`)

Visuals

Why is this game so pretty!!!! Seriously, everything from the backgrounds to the OP movie to the UI to the character sprites to the character cut-ins to the CGs are extremely pleasing to look at. Honjou Tatami’s character designs go way too well with the Aquaplus coloring team, and this game boasts some of my all time favorite CGs. The character sprites are also quite varied, although I’d have to say Tarte is my top pick in this regard. I also liked the character designs themselves in this game much more than the ones in 1, if only for how much more ｙａｂａｉ they are, especially Tarte and Izebel. It kind of feels odd comparing them to the simpler designs in 1, but at the end of the day I love the designs in both.

I think the 3D models worked well in translating those designs to a smaller size (although I can’t help but wonder about the gap between the models’ feet and the actual floor...) and don’t understand the people who were disappointed that they’re in chibi proportions. They’re cute!! I don’t know enough to say anything about the quality of the 3D maps/areas, but the greater location variety is a big plus; for some reason I really love the wheat field one.

The backgrounds have the soft, almost painting-like feel I’ve come to appreciate in Aquaplus games (thanks Kusanagi). There were even some surprise background appearances from 1 which made me smile.

My only negative in this category is that there are simply too few CGs for how long the game is. There is no excusing this point.

Music

How does Kinugasa keep doing it???? I had taken notice of Kinugasa Michio as a composer who does songs right up my alley (even among all the Aquaplus composers who generally hit that sweet spot) after realizing he composed Remote Viewing for Routes, and greatly enjoyed his work in Utawarerumono 2/3, especially 麗しき世界. The fact that Utaware 2/3 came after TtT2 could never prepare me for the ultimate nut awaiting me in this game: 君の前では少年のまま. This song encapsulates the relationship between Hamil and Tarte through very passionate guitar, Sutani Naoko’s wonderful lyrics, and Suara’s vocals. This deadly combination has led to this becoming one of my top two favorite Aquaplus songs (the other being 星座 from Kusari). I had some worries about the transition to the ED as this transition in 1 was one of my favorite parts of the game but those scattered quickly when I reached that point. The catharsis contained in these moments in both games is unreal.

The game’s soundtrack as a whole is quite good at expressing the idealistic and gentle, yet realistic and tenacious nature of the game and series as a whole. There are a few tracks from 1 with new arrangements and they either made me love a track even more or vastly improve my opinions on it which is a great accomplishment. I also enjoyed the new tracks very much, and the combination of these two elements make for a satisfying music experience on the whole, the amount and variety also being a positive factor. The increased amount of comfy tracks makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

The vocals songs were also to my taste with all of the new ones having lyrics about the Hamil/Tarte relationship being extremely up my alley. 🙏 thank you Sutani Naoko 🙏 I appreciate the fact that Suara, Uehara Rena, and Tsuda Akari are all in the soundtrack as this has not happened in an Aquaplus game before or since. The returning songs have arrangements befitting of the story and still hold great emotional weight. Except Until which somehow gets even more ずるい how the fuck do the lyrics fit so good every single time it plays how the fuck does it get me every time god I could write a whole new post on this song alone.

However, what elevates this to being my favorite game soundtrack at this point of my life is the usage. The amount of times that I have felt that playing a certain song during a certain part of the story was simply ずるい is not much, but the majority of them are from the Tears to Tiara series. The ずるい level in TtT2 manages to surpass the already high bar set by 1 by refining the art of layering the ずるい , leaving me staring at the screen in shock multiple times. Even in moments not as clearly defined, I generally liked the length that each each track played. I distinctly remember thinking in Chapter 1 that it was cool that the BGM changed whenever I felt like certain songs were beginning to overstay their welcome, which is pretty refreshing. I definitely feel that this game has the best use of music among all the Aquaplus games I’ve played (yes, this includes Utawarerumono 3).

Voice Acting

Someone please stop Matsuoka Yoshitsugu before he loses his voice!!, is a thought I held many times when listening to Hamil’s screams throughout the game. After reading the very interesting blog post by Mochizuki Yuutarou (voice recording director for Aquaplus) about some of the game’s voice recording and how he initially thought about having an additional person voice Hamil, I find it more incredible how Matsuoka managed to handle everything. The contrast between the soft spoken and reserved side of Hamil (his soft laugh is so good) and his hot-blooded and unrelenting side in the context of the story feels very satisfying to experience; the point where he snaps in the climax of Chapter 1 is a scene that has still not left my mind.

While Hamil is definitely the star performance for me, Kugimiya Rie as Tarte and Saitou Chiwa as Izebel were some of my favorites among the lovely voice cast. There were quite a few voice actors that I have since started paying attention to thanks to this game. On the negative side, I think a lot of the mob characters were too monotone.

Final Thoughts

Tears to Tiara 2 is a game that carries the spiritedness and positivity (:elatedsquirtleface:) of the first game and takes it to a logical next step while improving pretty much every part of the experience for a long (79 hours for main story on Easy without skipping voices), emotional journey. This is most of the reason I rated this a 10 on VNDB; the overall experience is very polished and it was the most fun I’ve had with a game that I can remember. There are definitely flaws, but I feel that what I gained from TtT2 was enough to overpower those shortcomings.

Next Post | Tear to Tiara: A Return to One’s Roots →

0 notes

mikey027-blog1 · 5 years

Text

Character bios for The Undesirables

Just as the title says this will be basically all the characters I have for my series so far.

1.Cole Sanders- 25 year old male with red hair that is normally spiked and hazel eyes that turn amber color when transforming into his supernatural form. About 5 feet and 10 inches in height and around 150 pounds. Caucasian with a body build meant for speed over strength. Main protagonist of the story and best friends with Cayden Graham(Avian).Both homeless on the streets of Santa Monica with both not having memory of certain parts of there past for whatever reason. With Cole it is mainly how he was born and came to be, not remembering any parents and being alone his whole life before meeting Cayden and Wyatt on his travels and jumping from foster home to foster home and shelters. Due to Wyatt's unbelievable hacking and techno skills or so Cole thinks, they all often live in luxury in the present rather then on the streets, often taking shelter in homes of others who are away on vocation or business for a long period of time. Cole is in fact something known as a infiniti, the only one of his kind as well. He can be every type of supernatural being in existence at will, giving him infinite possibilities, hence the name for what he is given by the people of Haven after finding out what he is capable of. The mark of Evervee that appears on all supernatural beings only suddenly appears on him near when the story starts and he is out with his friend Cayden who sees it and is astonished. A tattoo forms on his left arm that is the infinity symbol except it appears as such with tree roots. It is way later known that God himself created Cole as a way to take on the Everbeing, the only being to be at the same level of power as God himself. However, during a epic battle with God and the Everbeing they could not finish one another off for whatever reason but only diminish one anothers power drastically. But during the fight, God loses memory of what he did or the battle or who he even is and falls from Heaven down to Earth.

2. Cayden Graham(, Dracula)- A vampire from the mid 1400's who is actually Dracula and one of the first vampires. Every century or so his personality and physical appearance and persona changes and he goes by a different name with his current name being Cayden. Later in the book it is explained that vampires have a ability where they can push back unwanted memories from there minds or even recreate them into something false. Vampires often do this if they feel guilt of something they did in there past. Apparently in every generation that Cayden lives he erases his memories of his past lives. He does this because in all of his past lives he was under the influence of the mark which made him into a uncontrollable killing machine. But at some point in the story he meets a witch who is aware of what he is and what he is capable of and knows that he has tampered with his mind and lets Cayden know who is unaware of his own actions.He then becomes aware that the mark of Evervee is actually a reoccurring thing that has happened multiple times in previous generations pretty much going back to the beginning. A back and forth tug of war match between God and the Everbeing that resorts in using that mark each time to make his army and wreak havoc. He himself has had the mark before in one of his past lives and been controlled and slaughtered many creating a name for himself feared by most known as Night-Reaper. But with this knowledge he comes to understand that there must be a way to end the mark as its happened before and been dealt with somehow if only temporary but try to find a permanent solution this time.Even though hundreds of years old, his current persona and physical form resembles that of a young man with a mix of goth and punk style clothing. His mind set is also that of a young man even though he carries knowledge from hundreds of years. Cayden meets Cole one day while protecting him and Wyatt against a mug attack, forced to use hiss full on vamp abilities to fight them all off. But with his ability of mind compulsion he makes Cole forget what he saw and to remember him as just a badass martial arts fighter who kicked all the muggers butts without breaking a sweat. After this, Cayden became good friends with Cole and Wyatt and became there protector.

3. Wyatt Ellnacks- A 20 year old male often seen as a techno geek and major nerd in most things such as Marvel and DC stuff. He is actually a supernatural being known as a Zelick. Spectral beings of energy and light that cackle and sizzle dangerously like electricity but they can also maintain human form. Friends with Cole and Cayden who all met in the past in a shelter. His ability to hack is usually him actually using his supernatural abilities to control anything electronic, making bypassing most security a piece of cake. When in his spectral form his voice often has a echoing sound. Wyatt has spent most his life hiding his true self from the world and was pretty much born without parents or at least from what he can remember much like Cole making them become fast friends when meeting in a shelter. However Wyatt hides is true nature from Cole but not Cayden as he is afraid of how Cole would take it and possibly jeopardizing there friendship. Wyatt does not know exactly what he is until showing up in Haven but he does know of his abilities and that he can transform into something. Both Cayden and Wyatt already have there marks although for both the mark appeared at different times.

4. Paige Lopinski- A young witch of around 23 in training of her magical abilities to hopefully one day join the Shroud Coven aka The Whisperers. For whatever reason she has a strong dislike for vampires making her and Cayden often clash with one another when they meet in Haven. She has a familiar that helps channel her magic that takes the form of a wolf that becomes a fur cloak that provides protection that can stop bullets and is heat and cold resistant.

5.Piper Hughes- 14 year old young girl known as a miracle in the supernatural world. Granted good luck and fortune since birth due to a priests holy prayer that a angel granted and answered. It is rare, but on occasion angels are allowed to leave Heaven almost like being granted vocation time and able to visit Earth to do as they wish as long as concealed from humans of there true form which is actually harmful to human eyes. Sometimes angels take this time to grant certain newborn babes a special blessing that will protect the child for there whole lifetime and give them good fortune. It is to be believed angels do this only for those they believe will impact the world in some huge epic way so it rarely happens.However there is a catch to a miracle having this blessing, if any were to give into dark temptations of any kind even once in there lifetime or lose there innocence(virginity), there blessing would vanish and instead turn into a curse where they receive misfortune instead. A miracle's blessing effects others around her as well for a limited time. Same is said if a miracle becomes a misfit and is cursed.

6.Riley Mackenzie- The sexy devil every Haven resident drools over and she has wrapped around her fingers. Despite her having a pale ghost like appearance she is still considered beyond gorgeous and captivates most with just a single glance. Age 24 and a demon particularly a Succubus. Often because of her being known as a demon by most, she is always judged as being evil or a agent of chaos. They are all only half right. When around other Supernatural beings she has a tail with a sharp point that could gut a stomach easily and she of course has horns. Cool thing about her wings is they are only noticeable as shadows on the wall behind her, otherwise they never cannot be seen and her wings look like black tentacles sprouting from her back. When disguising as a full on human her horns retract and her tail wraps around her and becomes a belt for her current pants attire. She often likes to pick on newbies at Haven.

7.Abigail Saline(Trinity)- A young 14 year old girl close to being 15 who when just a little girl was abused severely by her father and never new her mother. One day she ran away from home without telling anyone and never looked back. Just as a girl she was terrified of how she would survive on her own but shortly after running away she was ambushed by thugs who threatened her life and she took shelter in a old abandoned building that looked to be on the brink of collapsing where the unspeakable happened to her. A spirit possessed her body and gave her immense strength for her age and physique. The spirit protected her through her own body and took down the thugs and then asked her if she would be willing to be a vessel for a number of spirits trapped to that place in return for protection to her from any threats such as the thugs. The spirit explains they just long to leave the sad place they are trapped to but with a vessel they could all leave and see the world once more, seeing as they are unable to ascend to Heaven or descend to Hell. The girl agreed almost instantly, wanting friends and a family of her own and therefore being a walking home for fourty four different spirits all with there own unique abilities with the exception of a few, however not all residents are what you would call "friendly" spirits but they all are still tied to the pact made with Abigail to protect her. Normally Abigail maintains control of her body but sometimes at certain times of the day she must allow the spirits to control her body, having to fight among themselves as to who exactly gets to have her body at the current time. Apart from that the spirits only appear when she is in need of aid. She is often seen as having severe multi personality disorder.

8.Elijah Parrish- 35 years old with snowy white hair and eyes as black as onyx. His skin color is close to a milky white color and when he moves the area around him tends to shimmer slightly along with him, making it hard to clearly focus on him and his appearance. Unable to control his shimmers he must wear a ring when around humans to keep them at bay as to not attract unwanted attention. Elijah is a Droga, a being who can enter pocket dimensions at will to reappear pretty much anywhere else he wants. Not only that but he can also send objects or other people through these pocket dimensions. His eyes also see things in slow motion constantly making it easy for him to defend himself among attackers when it comes to mainly hand to hand combat. His eyes normally see attacks coming before they even actually do making blocking or countering them simple. Elijah runs Haven and is seen as the leader of the place and even a father like figure to some of the residents such as Trinity. Even though he has a rather scary appearance to most, this is overlooked by almost everyone when they realize he has a heart of gold and does all he can for those he cares about.

9-10. Ari and Arias Gwenzel

Twin sirens who are caretakers and also teachers of Haven. A siren is often seen as vicious creatures to lure there victims with majestic and mesmerizing and soothing music so that they can pray on them. Most sirens are however the total opposite of this and in fact use there amazing voices to rather heal people of any pain they feel physical or mental and emotional. If a siren is really powerful they can sometimes briefly control a person putting them in some kind of trance. Sirens have unbelievable flexible and agile bodies and are unusually quick, matching the speed of vampires. Ari and Arias teach the young supernatural beings of Haven who were unable to teach themselves things such as math or science. Both being beautiful and such gentle beings when it comes to the young ones, they are most favorite teachers.

11.Oran Berathian- Looking in his mid twenties but actually around 150 years old or so, he is a mixture of vampire, werewolf and a witch. Being considered one of the most powerful of The Whisperers he is a member of the counsel of Nine and also one of the founders of Vermillion and a number of other supernatural homes. Known as a Tribrid in the supernatural world and very rare. Originally just a witch in his youth, he was turned by the love of his life who was a vampire who unfortunately was killed by a werewolf. The very same werewolf ends up turning him, forcing him to at least partially become what he hates which is werewolfs due to the one turning him killing his beloved. In anger he kills the one who turned him and shortly after his eyes glow a flame red color before he enters transformation. Despite his hatred of werewolfs and Lycans he still feels a bond among them now that he is one of them to a extent. Once creating Vermillion with the help of others he only usually allows werewolfs and lycans in his underground city with the exception of a few other supernatural beings. Some werewolfs and lycans resent him due to his vampire blood in him as well but due to fear of him and his power none challenge him.

12. Paxton Arcata- Warlock and leader of the Shroud Coven. Age being unknown but has the appearance of someone around there mid 40's. Uses a rare and old type of magic not known by many to keep his appearance young and maintain fit as well as stop him from aging. Due to this, it makes him pretty much immortal and a insanely powerful user of magic. His familiar is a dragon but that can have a human physical form as well. His familiar is a very rare type of familiar's and able to leave his masters side and be his own individual and think for himself. However if Paxton was in ever need of his familiar all he would have to do is call is familiar's name and no matter how far he was he would appear in a instant due to his familiar's flight ability which is more like him using teleportation. Due to his long time spent in the world he is very knowledgeable and respected by most in the Shroud Coven and is one of the counsel of Nine.

13. Ka'el- Paxton's familiar, who can take the form of a almighty dragon or maintain a human form and has ability of freewill and allowed to be his own individual. When in human form his wings become tattoos on his back and his horns retract to barely anything, barely visible in his hair. He often wears beanies as a means to conceal them although normally its not necessary as his hair is long and lengthy blonde colored giving him a appearance of a surfer dude most at Haven often joking of his appearance.

14. Esla Woods- In her mid 20's and a member of the Shroud Coven for 3 years and becomes fast friends with Paige when she later attempts to be accepted into Cloud Nine and the Shroud Coven. Although only being at Cloud Nine for a few years, she is already granted the title of a teacher there and teaches the younger witches and warlocks as she feels sorry for most who were abandoned by there parents or other such horrible stories. Her familiar is a white cobra snake that usually stays wrapped around her left arm and becomes a bracelet and gauntlet like accessory.

15. God(Avis)- Creator of all life or so it is told and takes form of multiple faces and bodies. Literally being able to appear as anything or anyone at anytime. His power has been greatly diminished however due to a epic battle in the past with the Everbeing, someone so powerful and ancient that he is as old as God himself and how he came to be is unknown to anyone including God himself. Even Satan fears this being. During a past fight against the Everbeing Satan and God were forced to team up to attempt to stop him from destroying all creation even Heaven and Hell and Purgatory and Limbo. But among the chaos of the fight Satan was cast aside to a dimension known nothing but as Oblivion. A place where there is nothing, no life, no sound, no scenery, just nothing. God was greatly weakened and his memory of who he is erased and fallen from Heaven onto earth as what humans saw as a comet or meteor. Wandering the world as a lost individual looking much like Liiam Niesson in appearance, he is trying to remember who he is. When he first falls and nearly takes out a home in Miami Florida, he chooses the name Avis after seeing it on a sign nearby for Avis Industries.

16. Mr.Evervee(The Everbeing)- All of creation's biggest threat. This being is of many mysteries. Nobody knows how he came to be or where he came from or how he is as old as God himself and without even God knowing where he came to be. With God being the creator of all things, how then did the Everbeing come to be of existence? This unknown creature or entity is so powerful that even God can't handle him and Satan himself fears the being even when Satan himself is the embodiment of evil and chaos. Currently conceals himself as a human male wearing attire that makes him look like a corporate businessman and is always having a attitude and personality that seems too perfect to where its eerie. He is one of the antagonists of the series.He is the result for the mark that appears on all supernatural life later on to be known because he is trying to build a army. Apparently the mark has appeared in past generations but is not remembered as its Evervee's usual tactic to fight against God.

17. Gavin Braxton- mid twenties male who is part of a large group of hunters known as The Harbingers who goal is similar to that of The Whisperers in the Shroud Coven however both groups often collide with one another. The Harbingers with Gavin being one of the first members, go after supernatural threats when they believe that the supernatural entity is beyond saving and to far gone often due to the mark. Gavin is a unusual type of hunter as he does not use any actual weapons but instead his partner Nora Harper who is a special and rare type of supernatural beings known as Therianthropes or just Therians for short. She is capable of morphing into any kind of object she can see with her eyes so therefore using his phone or magazines he keeps on him or books he will have her look at whatever picture and turn into that particular weapon or anything else he may need even if its car, making him literally be driving her.

18. Nora Harper- Similar age to Gavin and having a close partnership with him making her the only supernatural entity that is part of The Harbingers. Always being by Gavin’s side for most missions they go on, she is whatever Gavin needs her to be quite literally as she is a Therian capable of morphing into any object or tool by simply seeing it with her eyes and then undergoing the transformation. Nora has romantic feelings for Gavin while Gavin mainly thinks of only work and the current job at hand although deep down he to truly values having Nora by his side for nearly everything.

19. Helena Prowl- The woman who is unknowingly the caretaker of God. Residing in Miami Florida, she slowly attempts to heal and make God recover from his injuries. Finding him in a home nearby that is totally wrecked as if smashed by a meteor, she quickly rushes him away from the scene and attempts to heal him, and hopes to get answers on what in the world he is. Meanwhile, police in the area and other government officials attempt to figure out what happened with the home and how it exploded with the residents of the place luckily not home at the time.

#fantasy #supernatural #writing #fiction #stories #magic #creatures #paranormal #witches #demons #hunters #vampires #werewolfs #god #spirits

0 notes

daughter-of-war · 7 years

Text

Fruk Day Five: What a Future AU

----Being married to justice is tough, ‘cause she’s a bitch----

For @frukheaven‘s #FrukSpringFestival2k17

Pairing: FrUk (Aph France/Aph England)

Pairing Type: M/M

Words: 3,541

Rating: Teen (Innuendos and some strong language!)

"How may I help you today, sir?" Francis laughed, amusing himself with a sad joke.

"Very funny," a man choked out, catching his breath. He leaned on the one glass window that was still fully in tact, and nearly doubled over. "I'd like to see you run for several miles and joke!"

"Alright, alright, calm down," Francis chided. "I've got some water in the back of you'll give me a minute." He heard a 'Thank you!' from the front of the shop as he went to the back to grab a canteen. When he came back, and gave it to the man, he was nearly shocked at how fast it was downed. This man wasn't fucking around.

"Thanks again, sorry for snapping there," he said in a long exhale.

"It's fine," Francis dismissed. "But what I'd like to know is who you are exactly. Not many marathons are run anymore!"

"Oh haha, yes, I look like a marathon runner," he joked back. And he really didn't. His hair was blond beneath a layer of ash and what looked like engine grease. His face was covered in it, too, along with dirt and dust. Clothes torn and sneakers worn out, he looked like a proper mess. Francis wasn't much better in the clothes department, all of his being a size too small and worn out, but he always made sure to keep his hair up and brushed, as well as wiping off any sort of dirt if it got on him.

This man obviously didn't give a single shit about any of that.

"Anyway-" he sat down in one of the old plastic chairs in the front room by the window. "-The name's Arthur. I'm sort of a criminal at the moment, and I need a place to hide out. This looked like a nice enough place, but I didn't think there'd be someone in here."

"Well, my name's Francis. And did you really think a building just stayed nice on its own?" Francis rested his elbows on the counter in front of him. "Listen, cher, I'm not saying you can't stay here, but I've got to know what the hell they're after you for. I value my safety, I'm no fool. No idiot has hair this nice." He swirled a finger around his slightly messy locks. Arthur smiled at this, and it somehow looked both sweet and completely out of place on his face.

"I might have killed a mecha a year back, and they've been-"

"YOU KILLED A MECHA?" Francis slammed his hands on the counter, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "What the hell?"

"Oi!" Arthur hissed. "Don't be so loud!" His eyes shifted back and forth, as if he expected one of them to bust through the window and incinerate him on the spot. "And in my defense, they killed my baby brother, and I wasn't exactly thinking straight!" He was still seated, his leg bouncing angrily, one of his hands clenched in a fist until his knuckles turned white.

Francis bit his lip. He wasn't exactly sure how to respond to this. He resumed his previous position, legs swinging beneath him as he leaned forward onto the counter, his old plastic barstool creaking as he shifted back and forth.

"Sorry for snapping," Arthur said, letting out a sigh. "I just, even if it's been a year, it's still tough, you know?"

"What happened? Usually the mechas don't go after citizens?"

"He was out after curfew, as he got lost coming home from work. He was sixteen, and he worked in the government orchards. They'd transferred him to another field, and he didn't know how to get home from there, and, well..." He trailed off, not having to explain any further.

"Oh," Francis sighed. "I, I can understand a bit, I used to have a son, but since he got sick often, we used up our monthly medicine and he passed away about four years ago when he was still two. Believe me, I hate those mechas like any man in the world, so I can see why you're fighting them." Francis choked up a little.

"Well," Arthur exhaled. "Nice to share with someone other than myself in a mirror, eh?" Francis let out a little laugh, happy that he had some company after so long.

"So," Francis started again, "what do you do? To fight these mechas, that is. It has been almost thirty years, and we're no closer to getting rid of these tin devils!"

"Yeah, I know," he laughed without humor. "But this thing," he smiled, holding up a sizable gun about the length of his elbow to the tip of his middle finger, "is pretty good at her job."

"What is it?" Francis asked, coming our from behind the counter to get a closer look.

"Oi, oi," he laughed. "She's a bloody wonderful laser blaster! Solar powered, too," he said, with a proud little shimmy. "Made 'er myself."

"Can I see?" Francis asked, crouching down to get a closer look at the piece.

"If you apologize for calling my dear A.M.E.L.I.A. an it!"

"I'm sorry Mademoiselle Amelia, and may I say, you have a lovely name! Any special reason for Amelia?"

"Yep, it not only stands for 'Automatic Mecha Eliminator with Laser Incorperated Annihilation, but it was also what my brother, Alfred, was going to be named if he was a girl," he added.

"Well, it's certainly lovely," Francis said with a smile. "And you said you made this yourself?" He was impressed.

"Yep," Arthur answered. "I worked at the metalworking shop, on the assembly line. I made sure to be even more meticulous with parts than I should have, which meant that there were a lot of discarded parts I could pick up from the company trash after work. Luckily, the place was pretty loosely supervised, so it only took me a good year and a half to get everything I needed. Assembling her took about two years, give or take, and I test fired her for the first time when Alfred died. Thankfully, she came through and I managed to kill the damn thing chasing me and escape. I've been on the run ever since, and she's hardly ever failed me."

"You must be incredibly smart," Francis said to Arthur. "To build something like that must've required serious skill!"

"Meh," he shrugged. "I'm just stupid and desperate, honestly. I studied the working of the mechas that supervised us every once in a while, and got a good idea of how they worked, and basically learned how to build like a blind man that learns to play piano from listening to the same song over and over." Francis nodded. That made enough sense. And honestly, he wasn't really in to tech, so he didn't feel like having it explained any further. If it worked, it worked. No need to understand everything.

"And this really works? That's amazing," he shook his head in appreciation and near disbelief. Of course, he'd heard of the anti-mecha guerilla army, but he had never actually seen of them in person. Just wanted posters. "Do you belong to any sort of organization? Or are you one of those lone-wolf types?"

"Well, I'm sort of both," he answered. "I've worked with others quite a few times before, but I don't follow any solid organization's rules, even if I do sort if belong to a group. I mainly do my own thing."

"Ooh," Francis chucked. "An unmarried man! My lucky day!"

"Pssh," Arthur scoffed with a smile. "Can you not see this ring?" He held up a bare hand. "I'm married to justice!"

"Fine, fine," Francis groaned with a smile. "But I'm keeping an eye on you in case justice turns out to be a bitch!"

"Of course, I didn't expect anything different," he chuckled.

They were both enjoying the company of each other, as Francis was sure Arthur hadn't had anyone else for a while, too. The conversation lulled, and they sat in silence for a while. There was never much noise outside, since people often didn't dare leave their shelters unless they were heading off to work in the factories. The future wasn't great like many imagined it to be, with the AI systems gaining just enough self-awareness to take over. Thirty years ago this happened, and things had only gotten worse, with humans pushed into run down cities for containment. The only people that left were those that worked on farms just big enough to provide enough food to keep the population from starving. The Mechas had only allowed that. Anything else was restricted. No weapons, no local government, and especially no free speech. Francis had been born two years into the takeover, living for 28 years in a dystopian hellscape. He'd had a fling with a nameless girl eight years ago, and he'd had Mathew, his son, dropped off on his doorstep. He'd loved that child with all his heart, but due to medical regulations, he didn't survive, like so many other unfortunate children.

"You okay?" Arthur interrupted his thoughts. "Sorry, you just looked a bit upset."

"Oh, it's fine, just thinking of things," he said. "Meeting you made me remember how lonely I was." He sighed.

"Same," Arthur whispered in an exhale. "Well, I'm glad I stumbled in here, yeah?"

"Yeah," Francis nodded. "I'm glad too."

The comfortable silence was occasionally interuppted by the crying of an unknown bird, or the occasional creak of unkempt steel buildings. The sun was setting, a soft orange glow filling the empty shop. What it used to hold was unknown, but based on the smashed vintage records, he guessed it used to be a music shop of sorts. The previous residents were gone, leaving their items behind. It was safe to assume they were dead. Thankfully, some of the clothes fit him, so he had a small wardrobe.

"Ah," Francis said, breaking the silence. "I forgot to mention that I have some extra clothes!" Arthur looked down and back at him from his chair to Francis, who was sitting on the floor. "I can't believe that slipped my mind," he chided himself.

"You have spare clothes?" Arthur raised a thick eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah, yeah! Sorry I didn't mention that earlier," he laughed a bit embarrassedly. "Come on, they're upstairs if you want them." The both of them stood up, with Francis dusting the dirt off his butt. They walked up the old and worn stairs, to a second floor. It had a little living area with a dark green, worn out fabric loveseat, and two doors- one to a bedroom, and one to an actually, even if a bit unreliable at times, bathroom. The tub was broken, and the sink's water pressure was laughable, but at least it provided likely safe drinking water.

"This is a nice place, Francis," Arthur marveled, and Francis took joy in how nice his name sounded on Arthur's lips. "Haven't seen something like this before!" Francis was an obsessive cleaner. Whenever he was stressed, which happened to be often, he'd scrub the floors with an old brush he found in the bathroom when he'd taken this place for himself. Luckily, almost nobody lived in this sector, so he'd never had to deal with criminals. The floors were fairly scratched up, but he took pride in the minimal amount of dirt for a post-apocolyptic living room.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I work hard to keep it decent."

"I can tell."

"Yeah," he responded. "But the clothes I mentioned are in my room, if you'll follow me!" He led Arthur to the back of the tiny living room to his bedroom, where he yanked open a dresser as carefully as one can yank something. There was a drawer of women's clothes, and a drawer of men's clothes, along with two nightgowns and underwear. He tossed a nightgown and pair of fairly clean underwear to Arthur, who seemed a little uncomfortable holding another man's undergarments.

"I'll change in the living room," he said, holding A.M.E.L.I.A and his 'new' clothes. Francis decided to put his own nightgown on, making sure to carefully fold his dayclothes and put them back where they belonged. He was always careful with such precious things. Arthur came back into the room a moment later, placing his raggedy clothes on the floor by the door. "Thanks again," he said.

"It's no problem," Francis responded. "After all, I only wear one nightgown at a time." Arthur laughed a bit at that.

"And may I sleep on your loveseat?" He asked, and Francis laughed, and replied.

"You can get on my loveseat any time you want, cher!"

Arthur sighed with a laugh, even if his ears went a little red.

"You know what I meant, pervert," he deadpanned, giving Francis a light flick on the arm.

"Alright, no more jokes," he laughed. "But you should probably get some sleep, alright? I'll see you in the morning, Arthur."

"Goodnight, Francis."

And as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, Francis couldn't help but thank God for giving him such good company.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Francis whispered, making sure to stay a good enough distance from Arthur, as he still held A.M.E.L.I.A in his sleep. As Arthur wiggled in his state of waking up, he yawned like a kitten, and Francis couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, hush, you!" He chided, rubbing his eyes of sleep. "But thank you so much for letting me sleep here, that's the best I've slept in years!" His smile was drowsy, but he grinned, slightly crooked teeth exposed.

"It's no problem," Francis stressed. "If anything, this is one of the nicest things to ever happen to me, as it's been way too long since I've had company!" He tossed down a jacket, a t-shirt and a pair of worn out jeans, which landed in Arthur's lap.

"Really?" He gasped, looking up. "You dont mind me wearing these?"

"If I did, I wouldn't've given them to you," he countered. "And besides, they don't fit me anyway. You seemed a size or two smaller, so I figured they'd be perfect for you."

"Yeah, these look perfect!" Arthur smiled. "Thanks again!"

"Enough with the gratitude," Francis blushed, "just put them on! I'll go get dressed in my room."

As he put on his clothes, a similar outfit, except his shirt was more of a tank top and without a jacket, he decided to grab his brush and a towel, deciding that Arthur could use a little washing up. He exited his room as Arthur was slipping his arms into the leather jacket, looking incredibly good in it. The clothes really did fit him perfectly. Despite having a fairly flat everything, and being about as fleshed-out as cardboard, he still looked downright handsome. Except for his hair, of course. That would need to be brushed and trimmed.

"You need a haircut," he stated, cutting to the chase. "Nobody in my house is allowed to have such a rat's nest on their head!" Arthur looked a little apprehensive. "Don't worry," Francis laughed as he headed toward the bathroom to dampen the towel and grab the scissors, "I'm not going to chop your head off, just your split ends!"

"Oh, fine," Arthur sighed. "Where do you want me to sit?"

"On the floor is fine," Francis shrugged. He began to work, getting Arthur's hair a little but wet, which allowed the soft bristled brush to get through a good quarter of his hair, as the rest of it was almost all knotted. "This'll take some work," he sighed, lifting the scissors.

It took a good hour or two to finally get his hair decent, cutting off a solid three inches. It still stuck up in places, and no amount of brushing would change that. Then he set to work cleaning up Arthur's face, scrubbing dirt off as a mother cleans a child that's been out in the mud. They were both quiet, not having much to say, and Francis was too concentrated on fixing Arthur up to hold a conversation.

"Done!" Francis said at last, pulling Arthur up off the ground to head to the bathroom and look in the mirror.

Arthur reached up to touch his hair, and smiled when he could actually feel something other than filth.

"Thank you so much," he breathed out, quiet. "It looks wonderful!" He was positively beaming, his cheeks full of colour and eyes sparkling. "This is more than I could have ever asked for!"

Francis blushed at that.

"There's no need to thank me that much," he said, embarrassed. "I mean, all I did was cut you hair and clean you up a bit..."

"Oh, don't be so modest, it doesn't suit you!" Arthur laughed.

"Fine," he laughed. "But really, if anything this is great for me too, because you look even more handsome than you did earlier!" His voice rose an octave, embarrassed over admitting flat out that he found the near stranger handsome.

"Oh," Arthur averted his eyes a bit. "Thanks." His ears were reddening as he bit his lower lip.

Shit, made things awkward.

"Anyway!" Francis blurted out. "I have some food, if you want breakfast?" At the mere mention of food, Arthur disregarded any sort of awkwardness, his stomach growling and head nodding. "I'll take that as a yes, then!"

Francis went to the cupboard, fishing out some canned peaches and two spoons, setting it down on the counter on the first floor. He pulled up another barstool opposite his.

"Sorry this is all I have," an apologetic smile on his face.

"Francis, it's fine!" Arthur laughed. "Food is food, and the fact that you're giving it to me is more than enough!"

They ate together, and talked about little things, but it mainly consisted of Arthur telling stories about his time on the run from the Mechas and their government.

"And so then, when I though I for sure was going to die," he said leaning in, his voice excited. "There comes this loud BANG and all of a sudden, there's this group of maybe six other people, all with these obviously homemade weapons!" He leaned back. "God, were they cool! This one guy, Yao, was a bit of a dick, but fuck, could he make a weapon! The guy was a one-man factory, I swear! And there was this girl, Eliza, and her husband, Rod, if I'm remembering right, who were pretty good, too. Rod was the strategist, but I swear Eliza could rip a mecha in half with her bare hands!" Francis was content to listen to him, thoroughly enjoying Arthur's stories. They'd long since finished eating, with Francis offering Arthur the juice from the can, who was eager to take it. He really looked happy. And Francis was glad for it. Having someone in his life was honestly amazing, and even if he'd only known him for a day, he wanted nothing more than to keep getting to know him. Arthur was fascinating. For someone of such a lean stature, he seemed incredibly fit, and Francis wondered how shit he was, and if he'd show him the muscles he obviously had hidden underneath his clothes.

Arthur looked up, and shook Francis out of his thoughts. "Oi! You listening there?" He laughed. "What're you thinking about?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing," he shrugged. "And honest, I'm listening!"

"Good! Because as I was saying..."

Francis was more than happy to listen.

Its been about two weeks since Arthur had blown into Francis' place, and they had already fallen into a routine. It mainly consisted of breakfast, chatting, cleaning, dinner, chatting some more, and then sleeping. Arthur still slept on the loveseat. One day, Francis thought. One day he'll sleep somewhere more comfortable!

It wasn't until three weeks later that he got a message. It came though A.M.E.L.I.A, as she had a tiny screen that was capable of transmitting simple codes. Apparently a kid named Kiku was really good with tech, and had figured out a way to install a messaging board in A.M.E.L.I.A's software and a screen in her hardware.

"Fuck," Arthur hissed. "Francis, I need to go, they've found a hub! If we take it out, we might be able to liberate the city!" He seemed excited and frustrated at the same time.

"You're leaving?" Francis felt his stomach drop. "Arthur-"

"I promise I'll come back! This shouldn't be too hard! This city's already weak and under-supervised, this won't be too difficult!" He paused, and let out a breath. "I'll come back, believe me."

"I-" Francis stopped himself as he saw Arthur turn to grab his jacket, putting it on. "Arthur..."

"I'll come back," he laughed. "I've survived for this long, and besides, I've got others helping me! So don't worry." He came back for a hug, and Francis pulled him in tight. Right before he let go, Arthur placed a gentle kiss on Francis' cheek. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll come back."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He watched Arthur run out the door, and watched him disaper until there was nothing left as he vanished along the horizon.

So Francis waited, and he kept waiting. Because Arthur promised.

#frukspringfestival2k17 #aph england #aph france #fruk #fanfiction

46 notes · View notes

cchipnation-blog · 6 years

Text

Siren Song I

Summary:A love gone wrong?

Warnings: : mild language, gore, emotions, reference to previous abusive relationships

Wattpad : Just Write (you nerds) (on Wattpad)https://my.w.tt/FV9Et18P5L

Part Two > Part Three

I loved her.

I loved her so fucking much.

But how can you love a sociopath with a dripping knife? The one who carved a weeping smile into your best friend’s stomach?

My best friend sprinted to her, and my love could’ve moved the knife or the smile on her face. But, no. No, of course not, why would they-

No,

No, no, god no,

No, no- NO-!

...

The woodland was gorgeous.

The trees had dipped from the summer’s livid green to the lavish peach of autumn, individual bits and pieces falling from branches and coating the ground. However, we were in the beautiful lull where enough had fallen where the ground was coated for crunchy steps and piled into jumping pits, but the branches were still plentiful with oranges and greens for shade and sunlight-dappled ground.

We had decided to take a romp through the stunning landscape to get to our favorite lakespot- full of fun-loving faes and mermaids on the regular. The walk so far involved my lovely centaur-witch and cervitaur friends regularly leaving me in the dust, and me using the trees to chuck old acorns at their stupid horsey butts in retaliation.

We made it to the lakespot with no speed bumps. The lake was huge for its classification, feeding a delta that left the lake and traveled a few miles to the ocean. The lake, usually just called The Spot, was freshwater in itself. The sight of the light glimmering off of the miniscule ripples (mainly due to the currently unseen underwater residents) gave me a burst of energy. I proceeded to use this to sprint past my dumb friends- Honey, the cervitaur doe, yelping in surprise as I shoved past her and lept into the water.

In a flash of a second, I felt the coursing of clean water down my throat, choking myself for a second. Of course, my body quickly responded and I kicked off my shorts, legs tingling with electricity as they fused and I felt magick warp my body into that of my preferred siren form. I flared my gills and my frill, water rushing through the canals and soothing the old itch and ache. I felt along my teeth with my tongue, now sharpened and ready for munching on fish and, perhaps, the stray sailor.

“Illie!” I heard a shout from across the water. Beyond me, I watched as a beautiful golden-tailed siren sped toward me, pitch-black hair flowing behind her.

“Eve! You made it!” I laughed, hugging her.

“Yeah, I got here earlier ‘cause I caught a ride with some book club guys.” She shrugged, pulling back. She hooked her tail around mine, the golden color blending well with my kaleidoscope of a tail, blues and golds and greens in my scales. I felt the old feeling of harmonization with the friendly siren, we’d been friends since childhood.

Eve and I had grown up together on a reef that near the delta from the lake. We came of age around the same time and, being childhood friends, we decided to move out here together. We, of course, met Honey and Danielle (the centaur) at The Spot together, as well. Being together simply became facsimile by that point, but, of course, college separated us. We still met up often, of course, how could we not?

Eve grinned lopsidedly, her fins rippling happily. “Oh, guess what happened the other day? Y’know little Davie?”

“Yeah?”

“He earned his name, finally! He’s a late bloomer, but he earned the name Sunbringer, so it’s kinda worth it.”

“Sunbringer? Jesus- how did he earn that? He’s seven!” I laughed as we drifted along, Eve going into this crazy tale about how he managed a high-level illuminating spell on accident.

My naming was rather dull, my scales’ color came through like most sirens and merfolk when I was a couple years old. The mystical swirling of colors was similar to that like an eye- quickly earning Iris. Eve was more of a story: she earned her name after quickly learning spells and accidentally drenching the cove in darkness mid-evening due to a fire-off from a simple lamination spell. Not only was it in the evening, it was also on the Eve of the Day of Celebration, which was the anniversary of the officiation of the community.

I cackled at one of her jokes, shaking my head exasperatedly. “Alright. C’mon, we need to go see your girlfriend and Danni.”

There was a souring in our conversation at that, but she smiled anyway and we swam to the surface together. Honey and Danielle were chatting on the sand, relaxed on their haunches. Honey’s ears flicked against the soft breeze, said wind rippling her thickening light gold coat. Her coat retained the spotting from fawnhood, giving her a wonderfully graceful look on her twigs of legs. Her pale skin and blonde hair matched wonderfully.

On the other side of the spectrum, Danielle’s horse-half was a dark, chestnut brown, sleek and shiny in the sunlight. Her hooves were large and a little shaggy with white fur, her build large thanks to the Clydesdale-Shire genes. Her skin and hair were dark, as well, and the paint-esc blots of white complimented the pallet.

We didn’t bother with changing back to bipedal forms, Honey and Danielle had wisely chosen a spot that had been carved out so that the instant land dissipated, there was a steep four-foot drop into the water.

Granted, our tails were over six feet long- Eve refused to admit mine was larger, since she’d always been longer until late high school- but it was easy to let them flow behind.

“Eve!” Honey cheered, reaching forward and hugging Honey. They were such a good couple, really. They matched in the middle of everything and fit like two puzzle pieces.

A coil of hot jealousy built in my stomach.

Danielle gave me a knowing look.

After a long and soothing conversation and one or two drinks, we decided to head back together to my place for video games.

Eve was lucky- she wasn’t just a siren. She was also a fae and easily changed forms while still in the water. I grumbled angrily as I felt the slightly-painful transformation overtake my body, the skirt my only shield of dignity.

And so we set on back, Eve fluttering above us and soaring easily ahead. She joined in with Danielle and Honey in leaving me in the dirt. I was racing after them, shouting indignantly over the sound of Honey’s cackles and Danielle’s taunts.

“C’mon, Illie! Are you telling me the great siren can’t keep up with a measly doe?” She jeered.

“Hey!” Honey yelped, but laughter still bubbled past her lips as she bounced over tree logs. You’d think the extra weight wouldn’t let them bounce, I pondered, but somehow those toothpicks mana-

Thump

And I tripped.

I groaned, a long “eeewwww” from my lips as something sticky stuck to my hand. I pulled back as the rest of the group came back, laughter dying as Eve inquired if I was okay.

“Yeah, I-” And then the stench hit me. Like rotting flesh.

Well, that’s precisely what it was. A rotting corpse of, as I scrambled back and upset the leaves, what I thought as a fae, judging by the torn-to-shreds red bug wings.

I nearly vomited.

Danielle called the police.

Part Two > Part Three

#mild language gore emotions reference to previous abusive relationships #mild language #tw:gore #emotions #tw:reference to previous abusive relationships #Kas JW #but i mod:rose posted this #minormurdermystery #writing #original writing

0 notes