Stormbreak notes

This here's a plotbunny I've been quietly brainstorming for a while, and actually pulling the trigger on it came as slightly a surprise to me. I actually intend to draft this a little--there's some scenes I want to add to the prologue and first chapter that wouldn't fit into one update, so I'll probably rewrite to add scenes as I go. But especially for the first installment, I wanted to get to the good stuff somewhat quickly so you know it won't be all talk, no action. Just like I intend for this to be a Porn With Plot very much in the tradition of Ksennin, I guess I'll also have to tinker with it as I go. But eventually there will--hopefully--be a final draft with everything squared away, and I'll post that to AO3 or Literotica or somewhere so it can all be read together nice and neat.

I might even think up a better name.

Anyway, for various reasons not worth retreading, I was very disappointed in just about every aspect of Thor: Ragnarok. It's a movie whose smug superiority over and disdain to the comics and even other cinematic appearances of the character is palpable in every scene, a story that wraps a toxic political agenda together with a hackwork attempt at conveying no emotion grander than glibness at every opportunity. To see the Jack Kirby and Walt Simonson comics which were 'adapted' into this ill-conceived attempt at sketch comedy is akin to watching a metafictional version of the Brundlefly Machine in action. Sure, the end result may have some Jeff Goldblum in it, but it's also a horrible, unholy abomination begging to be put out of its misery.

But it's not worth retreading!

So I decided to come up with a storyline that would serve as a more fitting cap to the Thor MCU Trilogy, with the characters we know and love returning for one last curtain call rather than being unceremoniously put on a bus or outright killed off like a surplus black guy on The Walking Dead. And the characters being in-character. And a dose of ultraviolence and perverse sexuality, because it's a fanfic and these things are expected. Neither Branaugh or Taylor's take on the material quite landed, so I decided to pretend Paul Verhoeven was directing. Gratuitous nudity, bloody violence, and probably a little crude language for good measure. And no fucking memes.