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number5theboy · 5 years ago

Note

I wanna hear your material on why five should’ve been the one to pull the trigger!! I kinda agree but I haven’t read the comics-

Anonymous asked: Whats the rant on five pulling the trigger? I havent read the comics but i know he hes the gunman and says 'i never really liked you" or something similar

A piece of writing that is part rant, part analysis, and part creative writing for the two of you so kind as to drop into my inbox, as well as @mysticmoondustt, @maren-emilie, @waywardd1 and @millartiste, and @poisonpam, whose marriage proposal started all this.

User @sunriseseance brought to my attention that the way I framed this sidelines Allison completely and takes away from her character arc, which was not my intention in writing it, but is something this text communicates anyway. Giving over Allison’s (aka the only black woman in the cast) important story beat over to Five (aka one of the several white boys) without making the effort of keeping Allison just as important to the story was poorly thought-out. I have thus edited and rewritten the following with that in mind.

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Five’s Storyline Deserved To Be Properly Tragic or: Why Five Ultimately Causing The Apocalypse in The White Violin Would Have Rounded Out His Arc

In this mini-essay, I go into detail as to why I think, from a story-telling perspective, Five should have been the one to ultimately cause the apocalypse by intervening with Vanya rather than Allison. The apocalypse is Five’s storyline. It’s his trauma, his pain, and what he has worked towards preventing for forty-five years, and yet, he is almost completely written out of the pivotal events in The White Violin, the Season 1 finale, and has little to no impact on why the apocalypse does happen, in the end. Making Five the one who triggers the apocalypse would make his entire storyline become the proper tragedy it is supposed to be, with him being the last domino to fall into place, his action of disrupting Vanya being what makes her fall, makes her destroy the moon, and makes Five the man who causes what he so desperately wanted to stop. The easiest way to do that would be to give Five Allison’s role of being the one to point that gun at Vanya, but as explained above, that was the original argument of this text, and one that was insensitive and should have had more effort put into. The following rewrite still sees Five firing the gun, but in a different context and with a different lead-up, one where Allison’s moment of mercy and kindness to Vanya comes before Five’s decision to fire the gun, so that Allison’s moment with Vanya and the moment that inadvertently causes the apocalypse are two separate ones rather than a single one. I just really would have loved to see Five and the apocalypse be a self-fulfilling prophecy. One still should keep in mind that this does appropriate a moment that was solely Allison’s in canon and should thus still be taken with a grain of salt. That being said, I do think that it would have made sense for Five to fire the gun that causes the apocalypse. There are so many established points in Five’s storyline that build up to him being the character most relevant and most appropriate to point that gun at the back of Vanya’s head: his ruthlessness in eliminating anyone who stands between him and preventing the apocalypse, the fact that he is the only sibling we’ve seen kill methodically in cold blood, how Five is pragmatic by nature and was ready to sacrifice a single life in exchange for saving billions, his awareness of space and how to use it to his advantage, his tendency to use other people’s weapons to his own advantage, the fact that he is the only sibling Vanya doesn’t resent for their childhood, the fact that he trusts and likes Vanya, that when faced by Luther with the choice between violence and love before, Five chose love… But Five was not the triggerman, and the following, under the cut, explores the ending of an arc that could have been.

I’m going to start with Vanya’s demise and how the apocalypse happens in the source material. Full disclosure, I still have not read the comics, but I have seen the last few pages of the Apocalypse Suite, and even though my argument as to why Five should have been the triggerman for Vanya in the show is not based on ‘because it was him in the comics’, I still think it’s relevant for the point I’m trying to make. In the Apocalypse Suite, Klaus distracts Vanya as she is playing her violin, and Five takes that moment to go and shoot her in the head. Despite the concert coming to a bad close, it was a little too late, the moon still comes crashing toward Earth, and Five says: “You know something, Vanya…? I never liked you.”. It doesn’t quite stop there, but for the purposes of this mini-essay, that’s enough. What does matter is that the TUA showrunners have this nasty habit of taking bits of the comic and putting them into the show, but usually warped to the point of disrespect, where they simply never looked deep enough into why comic fans liked a moment, and instead just want to ~subvert their expectations~. Here, I think the subversion is not necessarily about the actions, as they are still similar (gun is fired in the vicinity of Vanya’s head, it takes her out, but not enough to prevent the apocalypse) and is instead about the identity of the triggerman. Or rather, triggerwoman.

In the show, Allison holds that gun to the back of an oblivious Vanya’s head before shifting it to next to her ear, and then pulling the trigger. The sound of the gun going off disrupts Vanya, who faints, but the energy she had been pulling from the soundwaves had to release to somewhere, and it bundles into a beam that shoots up and destroys the moon, giant pieces of which barrel to Earth.

And it’s a good ending for their arc. It’s the ultimate proof that even at Vanya’s lowest, in a moral sense, literally suspending their brothers in midair and hurting them, Allison still loves her, enough to not hurt her. Allison wants to do right by her, and it shows in its most extreme in this moment. The only thing that bothers me personally about this moment is that the second it showed that it was Allison holding the gun, I knew Vanya would not be harmed, I knew that Allison loved her too much, that Allison had flat-out refused to even consider Luther’s proposal that they should be prepared to stop Vanya by any means necessary. And so I started thinking about which character could make this moment more tense. Who was “with Luther on that one”? Who knows that they “can’t give her a chance to fight back”? Who have we seen to be merciless and cutthroat, who has ruthlessly killed people in cold blood because they stood between him and preventing the apocalypse? Which sibling pointing a gun at the back of Vanya’s head would have actually given the viewer pause and make them consider the possibility that one of the Hargreeves would be hard enough to shoot his own sister in the head?

It could have gone like this, with several references to Five’s fighting skills that were established beforehand but mysteriously absent during the actual climax. It starts as it does in the show, Luther rallying his brothers to attack and Allison refusing to be part of it. But instead of trying to convince us that Five would be stupid enough to run straight on at Vanya, Five blinks away and disappears. The other three still get caught in Vanya’s energy tentacles, but Allison is not. We see Five appear next to the Commission soldiers he killed when protecting Klaus, swiping one of their guns, showcasing both his spatial awareness and his tendency to use enemy weapon to his advantage, which we saw in both the Istanbul Not Constantinople scene and in him getting the upper hand on the Handler. He blinks away again.

Cut to Vanya on stage, holding her brothers, fixing them with a merciless and empty gaze. Then there is a small noise on the side of the stage, and Vanya looks over. It’s Allison, one hand behind her back, similar to the Luther and Vanya scene from Season 2, and we see the gun gleaming there, showing that both Allison and Five had the same tactical idea. But Allison is not pointing the gun, because she saw a glimpse of good in this violinist just moment before, when she smiled at her. I’m turn about whether or not Allison should be holding a sign in this. If she would, it’d be interesting for it to read ‘I love you’, even though that’s terribly cliché, it’s also the sentence that made Vanya lash out at Allison in the first place. I like the idea of Vanya seeing it again and the memory of her regret at her action, at the pain she caused someone who only tried to be there for her, to make amends, to support her, to love her, break the façade of the White Violin as she recognises her sister, looks at her, truly sees her. The energy tentacles release her brothers in one swoop, them falling to the floor, exhausted, as the tentacles retreat back into Vanya, but she underestimated her powers.

There’s too much, the energy slamming back into her, and for a moment, you see Vanya through the mask of the White Violin, scared of the power she holds and doesn’t know how to control. It’s an overload, like it was when she was little, and because nobody ever took the time to teach her how to control it, she doesn’t know how. Allison’s fingers twitch around her gun behind her back, and then her gaze shifts. Five steps behind Vanya and points the gun at the back of her head. And the viewer remembers everything Five has gone through because of the Apocalypse, what he had to become to survive, how he sacrificed everything to come back and stop the end of the world. How ready he was to end the life of an innocent gardener to change the course of history. And here is where a more interesting subversion of the source material would come in. Remember comic!Five saying “You know something, Vanya…? I never liked you.”?

Because show!Five is established to like Vanya, love her even. She was the first one he told about the apocalypse and that he wants to stop it (Five having that gun would also have made the first season come full circle in an incredibly satisfying way) , the first one he trusted, the sibling he treats with gentleness and kindness even though he is not gentle or kind. Her words brought him comfort for decades in the barren wasteland, and he is the only sibling that she canonically doesn’t resent for how she was treated in their childhood. She had bandaged up his wounds, probably the first time since he left the Academy on that fateful day without saying goodbye that someone touched him carefully, lovingly, and she told him that she hadn’t seen him in a long time and that she didn’t want to lose him again. And now he is faced with the prospect of shooting her in the head to achieve what he worked forty-five years towards.

And here is the kicker if this would have been the version we got to see in the show: there would have been foreshadowing to this very moment, because it would not have been the first time in the show that Five pointed a gun at a sibling. As Five set to go kill the previously mentioned innocent gardener with his father’s rifle, Luther grabs Delores and dangles her out of the window, giving Five the choice between the literal embodiment of the better half of his mind, the one who thinks beyond, the one created out of love, or the bloodshed he had been trained to solve every problem with. Bluntly put, Luther put him on the spot and made him choose between love and violence.

Five chose love.

Over Vanya’s shoulder, Five meets Allison’s eye. And even though she’s terrified of this side of Vanya that makes her pulsate with energy, on the brink of world extinction, she still looks him in the eye, and almost imperceptibly shakes her head, a silent plea to spare Vanya. Because Allison knows what Five has done, she has easily called him a mass murderer before, she knows that he could do it. And so he grips the gun he’s pointing at Vanya just a little tighter, to keep himself from trembling. He moves his arm just a little, bringing the barrel of the gun next to Vanya’s ear, and he pulls the trigger. The gunshot goes off, Vanya’s crumbles to the floor, Allison rushes to her side to catch her. The energy bundles and shoots out, straight into the core of the moon. On stage, Five looks in disbelief at the gun in his hand. He did it. It’s over. And Vanya is still alive.

And then Klaus’ voice pipes up. “Guys? Do you see that big moonrock coming towards us?”

And Five looks up. And Five understands, in a second, in a moment. He pulled that trigger, and the world is doomed. His singular act of mercy brought about exactly what he had given up everything to prevent happening.

As the song that played over Five’s arrival in the apocalypse says: this race is a prophecy. It’s just that nobody told Five that it is a self-fulfilling one.

I just think it would have been good to give some kind of pay-off to Five’s apocalypse storyline that isn’t him running away from it at the end of the season. I think having him be the one who ultimately brings the apocalypse about through the act of shooting that gun would have rounded out his arc. As I said in the beginning, this is the revised and re-edited version of this, which involves Allison in more of the plot. Her inadvertently causing the apocalypse in the show has no real bearing on her mind or her character past the act of firing the shot, while the same action would have deeply shaken Five to the core, and so I personally think it should have been Five to actually carry out that last action. In this new and improved version, I tried my best to keep Allison’s connection to Vanya, her act of love, and just have Five be the executioner rather than the only one in the scene. It’s not perfect, but it’s an improvement on the very narrow view I had before. I just think Five being a self-fulfilling prophecy would shift the dynamics between him and the Hargreeves in Season 2 interestingly. It would be more justified how harsh and dismissive the Hargreeves are towards Five. It would make his decision to take Vanya back to do right by her even more interesting, as it would be him choosing love over violence again immediately after it failed spectacularly for him, and his and Vanya’s dynamic in Season 2 so much more tense and high-stakes. It was wrong of me to completely strip Allison of any agency in this scenario, and I hope I have done better this time around, while still keeping my conviction that Five inadvertently causing the apocalypse would have been a better culmination of his arc.

#The Umbrella Academy #Five Hargreeves #my meta #Replies #nocternaljunipers

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kpop-killer · 5 years ago

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BTS Reaction: You Get Hurt

Masterlist

Kim Seokjin:

Being married to Jin wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. One moment he could be caring, the next he cold be cold. It was like a roller coaster, but one that only goes up and down. For the past few days, Jin had been in his office and never left. He was planning something with his gang and you did everything you could to not get involved.

However, luck was not on your side today. You were in the kitchen preparing food for Jin and the men in his office. It seem to have been some sort of meeting. You were minding your own business when all of a sudden, you hear the sound of a door being slammed open, followed by rushing footsteps. You rushed out of the kitchen to see what was happening.

A man around the same age as Jin came jumping down the stairs, with a smirk on his face. Hearing you rushing out of the kitchen, he quickly slides around the banister and gets a hold of you. One of his arms went around your arms and waist, pinning them down, and the other went into his pocket to pull out a golden gun. He moved it to rest against the side of your head.

A few moments later, Jin and his men appear at the top of the stairs with annoyed looks on their face. As soon as Jin saw the position you were in, his face became blank and cold. His men looked shocked.

“Take one step closer and I’ll blow her brains out Seokjin! You may have been able to fool everyone else, but not me! You wouldn’t get away with it!” The man screamed towards Jin while spitting. The spit made you flinch, causing his grip to get tighter around you. “Don’t you dare move little girl!”

“I suggest you apologise and let go of my wife before anything bad happens to you,” Jin said with an emotionless voice while walking down the stairs casually. While walking, he grabbed his gun that was resting against his back. Jin’s movements caused the man to step back and force the gun against your head more.

Jin made it to the bottom of the stairs and the man still hadn’t done as he said. One thing led to another and the next thing you know, you have a bullet in your shoulder and are lying down on the floor. Looking around, you get a blurry outline of Jin beating up the man. Your vision was fading fast.

“Jin...” you tried shouting, only for it to come out as a mere whisper. One of Jin’s men quickly came over and began to put pressure onto the wound causing you to scream out in pain. This caught Jin’s attention. Signalling his other men to take the man away, he rushed over to where you were.

“You’ll be okay doll, I promise,” he said, but it sounded like he was miles away from you. Eventually, your eyes dropped, surrounding you in darkness while Jin is screaming your name.

Min Yoongi:

Min Yoongi is a man who is well known for never missing a target when it comes to his assassinations. This caused a lot of fear towards him as no one knows who’s his target is going to be next. One day, Yoongi got an anonymous request from someone. Usually, Yoongi would not take requests like this, but the man he was asked to assassinate was someone who had been causing him a lot of trouble recently; Jung Sung-Ho.

While gathering information about him, Yoongi found out that he was hosting a masquerade party. This is where you two were now. Yoongi brought you along as it wouldn’t look right for him to turn up to a party alone. You were currently sat at the bar, drinking a Gin and Tonic. Yoongi had left you there and told you not to move while he did his work.

However, it did not go as planned. While Yoongi was away, someone came up to you and started a conversation. Thinking nothing of it, you spoke to them, only this was Jung Sung-Ho. He knew who you were and was going to use you to get back at Yoongi.

“So I’ve overheard that you are married to Min Yoongi,” He said, finishing off his drink then looking over at you. Your body tensed up. Only now had you realised who this man was. You tried standing up, but it was too late. The bartender had slipped something into your drink that made you feel sick and weak.

You fell to the floor in front of Jung Sung-Ho. He looked down at you with a large smirk on his face. Little did he know, you falling over had caught the attention of a now very angry and concerned husband of yours, who was now pulling out his gun from his tux. Lifting the gun, Yoongi positioned it and fired directly at Sung-Ho head, making his body fall onto your weak form. To say that Yoongi was annoyed, would be an understatement.

Jung Hoseok:

Before leaving for work, you made sure Hoseok was okay by making him something to eat and a coffee. This was a daily thing that you did, and in return, at the weekend, Hoseok would take you out whether it was just for a drive or to go out and eat at a fancy restaurant.

It was a Saturday evening and Hoseok just came back from work. He went to have a shower before the two of you left. Today he decided that you two were going to go on a long drive. He had a horrible day at work and going for a drive would help calm him down.

So here you two are now. Sitting in the car, Hoseok driving and you in the passenger seat. The two of you were talking about random things that came into your minds like, do those people who think the earth is flat believe in gravity? Never the less, you were both having fun.

That fun ended as soon as your car got hit by another one. It turned out to be the exact people that had made Hoseok day horrible. They went to hit Hoseok side of the car, only to miss and hit yours. The damage to the car wasn’t as bad as you thought. However, the impact caused your leg to get stuck.

Not only that, but the glass of your window smashed and a lot of the pieces went into your skin. While you tried to stay awake, Hoseok was shooting at the car’s tires while driving as quickly as he could to get you to a hospital.

“Hold on for me Y/N okay? I’ll get you to a hospital as soon as I can! I didn’t think this would happen! DAMNIT I should’ve killed them when I had the chance!” Hoseok said quickly. He was angry, not just at them for hurting you, but at himself for letting this happen to you.

Kim Namjoon:

You never thought this would happen. One minute you were happily sleeping next to Namjoon, and the next, you were tied up in a chair in some horrible basement looking room. Someone had broken into your house and Namjoon heard it. He left the room with his gun to stop the intruder, leaving you alone and vulnerable while you slept.

They had over powered Namjoon and quickly gotten a hold of you, waking you up. You thrashed about as much as you could, but nothing really seemed to help. If anything, it made your kidnappers mad. They were growing tired of you being awake.

“Someone stop her from moving and get her in that god damn car or so help me, I’ll kill every single one of you,” Said one of the men, who you guessed was the leader of either the gang or the mission they were currently on.

“Boss told us not to harm her! He said that he was the only one that was allowed to harm her! We can’t go against direct orders!” One of the men holding you said. From what you could tell, he was a rookie.

“I don’t give a damn! I will deal with those consequences, just stop her!” Using their small argument to your advantage, you quickly slipped out of the mens’ grip and made a run for it, but didn’t get face. Feeling a horrible pain in your lower leg, you fell to the ground while screaming. Looking down, you saw blooding coming out of your leg. The men from before walked out of the room and moved towards you.

Throwing you over their shoulder, one of the men walked out of the room and past a Namjoon who was struggling against about seven men at once. However, once he saw you, his mind went dark and he started beating each of the men with ease. He promised no harm would come to you and he was going to keep that promise.

Even with all of Namjoon’s efforts, he wasn’t able to get to you before the men had tied you in the car and drove off. Some were still there to deal with him, but he didn’t care. He was more that willing to kill anyone who got in his way of getting what he wanted, and right now, he wanted you back.

Park Jimin:

After the incident on your wedding night, Jimin had been very careful around you. He often held back and tried to stay out of your way. However, doing this meant you would be an easy target for enemies to get. Not many people took kindly to Jimin or Bangtan in general which meant that they had a lot of enemies.

One enemy that they have had for a while was EXO. Sure they made a few agreements and worked together here and there, there was only room for one gang in Korea. Finding out that Jimin had a wife, they decided to pay a visit to her.

You were busy at work. It was a small cafe, but it gave you money, so you could’t complain. Today seemed to have been one of the busiest days that you had to deal with in quite some time. Sometimes you were glad that you weren’t a cook as they’d probably be rushing around more than you were.

Seeing nine boys walk in, you thought nothing and continued to serve people, until you went to serve them as they were sitting at one of your tables. You walked over and took their orders.

“We’re looking for someone who apparently works here. Is anyone here married to Park Jimin? We heard from him that his wife works here, but never told us anything else about her,” One of them said, confusing you as even Jimin didn’t know that you worked here.

“My sincerest apologises, Park Jimin doesn’t know that his wife works here so how exactly would he have been able to tell you?” You asked, confused.

“And how exactly would you know that Darling?” A different one asked.

“I happen to be friends with her?” You replied with hesitation, trying to come up with an excuse that would hopefully not give you away.

“Looks like we found who we were looking for. Tell Jimin this is a warning won’t you Darling?” The first person who spoke said again. Before you could question what they meant, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. Taking a knife from his pocket, he cut into the arms he was holding. “Either he gives us what we want or next time it’ll be your neck.”

Kim Taehyung:

Taehyung wasn’t a person that normally gets mad, but he was mad. The two of you had gotten into a slight argument after Taehyung had a bad day at work, which pushed him over the end. He said some things that he didn’t mean and stormed off to your shared bedroom. You on the other hand was still in the kitchen where the argument happened.

Wanting to give Tae space, you decided to go on a walk to help clear your head. Before leaving, you grabbed your phone, wallet and left a note to Tae on the fridge telling him that you were sorry and that you had decided to go on a walk to give him space as well as to clear your head.

While on your walk, you felt like someone was following you, but when you looked around you, you saw no one but yourself. It was around eight o’clock so many people at this time were in their houses preparing dinner.

You continued on your walk, but the feeling didn’t leave, if anything it had gotten worse. You eventually got to a dead end so as you went to turn around and start heading back home, you saw a hooded figure in the corner of your eye. Doing the first thing you thought of, you began to dial Taehyung while acting as if you hadn’t seen the person.

“What do you want Y/N? You are just downstairs, could you have not just come up instead of call me?” Taehyung said, his voice laced with exhaustion and annoyance. He hadn’t gone downstairs and seen your note yet.

“I thought I’d go on a walk after what happened to give you space. It’s been a few minutes and I just wanted to make sure you were feeling better and if you needed anything while I was out,” You said with a calm voice, trying not to get any unwanted attention, but was also trying to hint to Taehyung that something was happening.

“I am coming to get you right now, do not move! Do you know how dangerous it is to be out and about at a time like this?” Taehyung panicked, followed by the sound of shuffling and rushed movement.

“I have an idea-” You began to say only to be stopped by someone clasping their hand over your mouth, causing you to drop the phone.You struggled against their grip and was able to get a word out. “HELP!”

Hearing your scream, Taehyung rushed out the house while the person who held you began to start hitting you. First it was the stomach, then the face, then kicks to the legs and arms. Just as Taehyung got there, you passed out from the pain and blood loss. The hooded figure had brass knuckles on them, meaning most of their punches caused you to bleed out.

Jeon Jungkook:

Both you and Jungkook did everything you could to avoid a situation like this. You two were both sleeping when you were woken up by Jungkook getting a call. Apparently one of the gang’s captives had gotten out and then needed Jungkook’s help to look for them. Jungkook convinced you to come along as he didn’t want you to be in the house alone.

You both made it to the warehouse where you could see everyone in different directions looking for this captive. Jungkook made you promise him that you would not leave the car unless it was an emergency, and you made that promise. However, Jungkook’s karma seem to have disagreed with that promise.

You sat in the passenger seat of the car. waiting for Jungkook to get back when you hear the sound of the driver’s door being opened. Hoping to see Jungkook, you looked over only to see a man you did not know. You attempted to get out the car only for the doors to get locked and for the man to grab your wrist extremely tightly, causing the circulation to your hand to stop.

You screamed out loud in hopes for someone to hear you. It surprised the man so he loosened his grip enough for you to quickly unlock the car door and rush out. Luckily, Jungkook and his Mafia leader Jin were close by and heard your scream, so they were on their way back over to the car.

Jungkook saw your panicked state and got Jin to go over to you and get you to tell him what happened while he chased after the captive who was trying to run away. After explaining what happened, Jungkook came back with the man over his shoulder unconscious. Some men came and took him away while Jungkook came over to you.

“I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you along or left you alone in the car. I thought you’d be safe, but I was clearly wrong. Please forgive me Princess,” Jungkook pleaded while pulling you into his arms. His face rested against your neck as he spoke.

“It’s okay Jungkook. I understand, but you don’t need to apologise for anything,” You replied to him as you hugged him back and patted his back in a comforting way. He didn’t reply and instead just held you tighter. The tow of you stood there hugging for who knows how long.

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helpinghanikan · 6 years ago

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A little Help

Avengers (And Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Not everything can be done by one person; from saving a life to fixing a problem, we all need a hand sometimes.

AN: Gonna be honest, the Thor one sucks but I didn’t want to leave him out. I’m sorry.

Steve Rogers:

Somebody was finally smart enough to shoot Captain America in the legs. Bullet cutting through skin but not strong enough to break through his bones. Instead two shots lodging themselves in the thick of his calf and behind his knee. Enough to take him out for the moment, but in a few days he’d be walking again.

This wasn’t in a few days, though. This was the same moment, when your man screamed and there was no but you and an empty parking garage to hear.

It’s actually pretty funny to think about how you institutionally moved. Taking up the dropped shield that was used as nothing more then a prop that day, holding it in front of you and telling your man to get back.

It was just supposed to be a few poses to finish up those education videos Steve promised to do. By the time both of you got away it was late at night and both your stomachs were rumbling.

“I can see their boots, that’s it.” Steve says behind you.

You’ve taken shelter between two cars. Steve flat on his back, trying to look under the car. You, holding the shield up while crouching on untrained legs. The vault door to Steve that could probably be taken out by anyone with above average training.

“There’s only one? Is he coming?” You whisper, legs starting to quiver from the strain.

“Yes,” Steve is whispering now. It’s hard to hear everything that he is saying. “Stay down, it’ll be okay.”

Steve was only a half decent liar. Had you been looking at him he would have smiled. Try and confirm that everything is going to be okay, even with blood going through his fingers, he’d try and lie. And you would lie right back. Smile at him, nod and then do what you are going to do anyway.

It wasn’t until the dickhead was close enough that you heard her shoes on the concrete. In that woman’s point of view, she probably only heard Steve’s breathing. Imaging how you were going to scream after she put metal through the Captain’s eye.

You only saw the woman’s face without blood for a brief second. Long enough for the shield to bash forward and up, slamming against her nose. Breaking the thing and practically snapping it back into her head. Another hit, this one aimed, and she falls backwards. Clutching her face and screaming profanity.

Steve was on the phone with help, finally getting to act the part of a civilian doing their best. While you got to be the hero, kicking Dickhead’s gun away and starting a small wrestle to keep her down. She wasn’t a hired or professional assassin by any means, just an extremist who didn’t seem to really know what she was killing for.

Nothing you couldn’t sit on and keep from hurting anyone.

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Tony Stark:

When you experiment on yourself you either become a brave idiot or the reason for a new safety manual. Somehow Tony has proven himself to be both. At least he has learned to have some sort of babysitter when he does these things.

“You have life insurance right?” You ask over the intercom.

“No one would accept me as a client,” Tony speaks through the experimental armor.

His voice coming off as deeper, more static-y. Supposedly this was a going to be a special type of armor. Thick and tough enough that it would be used in the event of either going into the center of the earth, or into the sun. Consider all events that absolutely no one expects keep happening in this world, the idea wasn’t nearly as crazy as you’d think.

He stands in the gray armor. Legs shoulder width apart, standing on a platform where five cannons of raw heat are waiting to be fired. All this was behind the thick booth you hid away in. Ready to turn the dial, colors ranging from yellow to red, and then green.

“You ready, Babe?” Tony asks.

“I’m not the one about to become an oven, just say the word.” You reply, hand on the dial.

“Let’s start slow, get an even roast going.”

The dial starts to slowly leave the green range. Watching his helmet tilt up, ready to take the flames that starts slowly, then burst out faster then water as it increases.

It’s hard to see the armor while staring through the glass. What you were watching wasn’t even glass. It was a screen showing the feed from cameras outside the box. Positioned just enough so it seemed to be glass. It was safer this way, basically being in another room from the lava Tony calls flames.

“How are you doing?” You have to practically yell.

“Getting a little toasty, still looking good, though!” He yells back.

That optimism only lasted for a few seconds before your ‘glass’ started to get wonky.

“Still looking good?” You ask.

There was no response, but there was static.

“Tony?”

More static.

The dial was immediately dialed back to green. Even pushing harder as though that would cool it down faster. Unfortunately, there was no override code to get out of the box, you could leave but you could not enter the heat chamber, not until it cools enough.

That didn’t stop you from pulling on the door. Like when your mom isn’t fast enough unlocking the car and your passive aggressively demanding to be let in. Only in this case you were yelling at the computer when it would respond with “please be patient while the chambers cools.”, “please be patient while the chamber cools”, “please be patient while the chamber cools”, “please-,”

“Shut the FUCK up!” you scream at the automated voice.

Eventually the voice finally stopped, a little chirping beep and your were right into the chamber. Although cooled to acceptable degrees you were still slapped with the heat after only going in a few steps. “Hang on, hang on,” You’re yelling at nothing. Jerking your free hand away from the metal that was already messing with you just by being close. “Tony, hang on.”

The helmet was the easiest part of the armor to remove. Your hands are singed by trying to grab it. Having to pull it quickly and tossing it just as fast across the chamber.

How many could say that they know how a baked potato feels? Well, you can add Tony to that list. His entire face was flushed, a nice pink color. Between gasps and pants he looked up at you, nodding his head to your silent questions.

He gave one thumbs down. The universal sign that the armor would need more work.

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

Thor:

If Thor didn’t have glasses before he should think about getting checked out soon. Staring so close to the phone his nose was practically touching it. Your eyebrows matched his, knitted together in both confusion and annoyance.

Looking to Bruce was no help.

“Yeah, that’s your turn.” He says, going back to his magazine.

There was no way you were going to be able to look over his shoulder. Instead standing next to him and trying to catch a glance.

“What are you trying to do?” you asked after several seconds of seeing nothing.

“Trying to return to the game Bruce showed me.” Thor turns the phone towards you. “I accidentally went out and cannot return.”

You’re staring at the home screen of his phone. Taking it in for a few seconds and then exclaiming. “This is not English; did you do this on purpose?”

Thor shakes his head. “It was an accident when I was trying to return to the game. I can still read it, I do not know how to change it back, though.”

“You have to go through, like, four screens. How did you do this on accident?”

In the end it seemed you had a bigger problem with the phone then Thor did.

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

Bucky Barnes:

You sit with your legs spread on the living room floor. A black arm with gold lining resting between them, held up by one thigh so it’s hand is in the air.

A mix of cleaning supplies sat on the coffee table next you. From glasses cleaner to car wax, you even dug around under the sink. This thing wasn’t like a pair of shoes that came with instructions on how to clean it. The only thing either you or Bucky knew for sure was “don’t put it in the washing machine,”. And even that was still up for discussion.

“Thank you, for this.” Bucky says, a cool bottle gently nudging against your shoulder.

He holds two ciders in his one hand. A small juggle when you take yours, but he had a handle on it. He wouldn’t be driving a car anytime soon, he still had the arm on most of the time, but he was getting the hang of it. This just meant any cleaning was up to other people. You being the only one who doesn’t want the story behind every little smudge on the thing.

“I’m going to add this to my bill,” You say, poking at the very little gap between the plates dirt tends to find its way into. That it sometimes comes back as red you don’t think about it too much. “Minus a drink.”

There’s a domestic bliss to this entire scene. Looking off to the side where Bucky sits in one of the living room chairs. His hair is finally short, his face shaven and his head tilted against his shoulder. There was something playing on the TV, but he wasn’t really watching it. Instead keeping his eyes quarter open to watch you.

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

Natasha Romanoff:

It was a weird request but not weird enough to refuse. Rereading the text from the “unknown” number Nat insisted on being named in your phone.

Do me a favor; get on the elevator, go down a floor.

After a few seconds, not even long enough to get your shoes on, she sends another.

Pretty please?

You were on the second highest floor of your building. Walking out of it in the middle of the night, when you felt the need to tiptoe around your apartment.

The walls were thankfully thick, but the doors were not. Through the wood you could hear TVs, talking, a few moans and one particular pair softly yelling. There had yet to be anything more then an argument from them, nothing that warranted intervention. When you walk past that door again you were likely to hear moans more then arguments.

I got you. You sent back, hitting the elevator button and waiting.

Natasha was a serious woman who cared about her friends and loved ones. She’s been on many, too many, missions and knows how to get in and out without being seen. The best way to get in and out without being noticed was to simply act like you belong. Although she is a very serious spy, she does like to have fun with her skills.

You had to remind yourself of this when the top hatch of the elevator is popped open. First a pair of overpriced boots, then a beige jacket covered in black dirt and sludge, finally red hair and a smile without lipstick.

You didn’t have to say or ask anything. Your face was enough for her to get the confusion.

“I got stuck,” She says.

“You got dirty. You know I can buzz you in, right?” You say, reaching past her, hitting your floor’s button. “Or I could open a window.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She asks, kissing your cheek and leaving a smudge.

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

T’challa:

In so many ways T’challa is on the same level as Steve Rogers. He couldn’t hold back a helicopter, but he could lap the world as good as him. Less experienced in military strategies, but his abilities aren’t any indications of that. And while you can hear Rogers walk down the hallway, it’s amazing the amount of times T’challa has made people jump out of their skin but just appearing next to them.

But alcohol was where T’challa had to throw the towel. Something he had yet to do.

“Does this even do anything to you?” You ask holding up the empty bottle.

Rogers just shrug with a smile. Drinking down his glass, taking all that’s left of whatever they had been drinking. “I was hoping it would’ve worn off from the forties, guess not.”

In one of the rare moments T’challa was in the states you typically wouldn’t be able to see him until the next morning. Getting a message from Rogers about a change of plans was a pleasant surprise. Seeing your man face first into a table was less so.

“Can we borrow a room?” You ask, checking T’challa’s pulse.

“There’s a guest room down the hall,” Steve says.

T’challa was thick mess of muscle and dead weight. Too heavy to carry, just wrapping around your arms around his front, pulling him out of the chair. Struggling to keep him up enough for his feet to do their damn job.

He’s hasn’t made any noise the entire struggle. When he finally looks at you he smiles, “hi,” he says. Face pressing into your shoulder, legs threatening to give up.

With one arm over your shoulder and the other over Rogers T’challa leaned hard on your side. In his drunken haze he probably thought he was giving you a regular, charming, kiss on the cheek. Rather then the actual slobbering he was giving your neck.

“Did I win?” He asks.

You have to give the man credit. Being able to know what language to speak in even when he was off his ass drunk.

“Yes, Dear, you wiped the floor with him.” You say, ignoring the smile Steve still had.

An alcohol smelled breath blew into your ear. “Yay,” he says, pushing harder against you. If it weren’t for Steve both T’challa and you would have slumped into the wall.

“I got it from here,” You say over T’challa’s shoulder after reaching the bedroom door.

It was probably a bad idea to let Rogers off the hook so quickly. As soon as the door opened you stepped backwards to keep with the momentum. Taking a few more steps until you could safely toss him onto the bed. He landing with a groan, reaching back for a pillow or something equally soft to replace your absents.

“I’m coming for James Barnes next,” He slurs against the pillow.

“I’ll be sure to warn him.” You say, pulling both his shoes off. Tucking them under the bed.

He didn’t hear you, already muttering in his sleep.

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

Pietro Maximoff:

Volunteers were gathered from every corner of S.H.I.E.L.D, those qualified or could even pretend to be qualified were grabbed and told to get on the ship. This was how you got pulled along with doctors and those who can lift over fifty pounds.

‘Do you know how to sew stitches?’

‘No…’

‘Do you know what gauze is?’

‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Great, come on.’

Although briefed on the ride in it was incredibly confusion after walking off. Essentially your job was to do what the people who knew what they were doing told you. You seemed to be the only one who made it more then a few steps before being grabbed. Left alone long enough to hear the somewhat-Russian-sounding language from the survivors and see the next ‘Life-boat’ returns with more survivors.

There are so many injured and panicked that you didn’t notice one being carried in. The agent carrying him had only to yell twice to get two doctors on him. One taking his shoulders the other his feet, setting him gently on the nearest bed.

“Gauze and swabs, go.” One of the two doctors points at you while giving the order.

Not being told how much was needed, you just grabbed an arm full of each from the shelves. Standing off the to the side, pretending to be a shelf to have it’s things taken from. A few arms even reached over your shoulder to grab what you were holding.

The patient was a young man; his shirt cut open with surgical scissors, head tilted so far back it was almost off the table. His chest was hard to look at, with more craters then the moon, just a glance and your face was beginning to lose color. Luckily a shelf didn’t have to move, just stand still and stare. The moon moved with steady breathing. White turning red just by touching it’s surface that did next to nothing to change the color.

The moon’s surface surged forward with a gasp. Silver hair fluffing with a hacking voice towards the ceiling of the ship.

Neither of the doctors try to touch him. Whether it’s from their blood covered hands getting into his face, or that he could wreck what little sterile environment was made. Both pressing down on the wounds.

“Now that he’s awake keep him that way.” The same doctor snapped. “Hey!”

A little color has come back from being yelled at. Snapping your head towards her. Not saying that you understood but nodding when she jerks her head towards the patient.

Another shelf took over your duties. Practically tossing the things onto it in passing, standing at the head of the table to look down at your patient.

Just as the glance had told you, his hair was silver. Although you were right above him, he looked everywhere but you. Half-lidded eyes rolling back and forth across the room, his mouth moving but nothing coming out.

“Hey, hi,” You whisper down to his.

Your hands cup his head, now staring right up at you. The same wide-eyed look a cat has after being caught. He blinks just as slowly, only when you smile down at him.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake. You gotta stay awake for me, okay?” You say.

He now has a smile that matches yours. Staring up at you and beginning to talk softly, practically muttering with a dopey smile on his face. Even if you got closer and listened carefully you wouldn’t have been able to understand him. Resorting back to his mother language. You didn’t need to glance up to know that the happy drugs were just added.

His arms are starting to move with his cheery talk. Just little wiggling that are stopped by the doctors. The man keeps trying to raise his head, trying to see what was keeping his hands down. Your hand gently pressing against his forehead, pushing it back down onto the bed. Now staring back up at you he speaks directly in his mother language.

“Yeah, just stay awake. This will be fine,” You look down to the doctors. Now pulling stitching what could be done. “Everything is fine.”

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

Peter Parker:

If it weren’t for May you would have stayed longer. The plan was to pray to your respected deity that May had to stay late work, long enough that you “accidentally” fall asleep on the couch. And since it’s so late May invites you to spend the night, with your parents permission, forbidding you from Peter for the rest of the night. She’d then go into her room and you and Peter can continue.

Instead May came home on time. Unintentionally ruing the moment when she opens the door. Intentionally making it worse by not bringing it up but just smiling at you and looking away when you look back. You lost the psychological war fare by proclaiming how late it was getting and that it was time to go.

Usually you left Peter’s before sundown or spend your little saving for a car or taxi. It was only a handful of times that Peter walked you home. The excuse you always gave was “then who’s going to walk you home after?”.

Nine out of ten times walking in numbers is enough to be safe. There is always an exception that makes the rule, though. This is especially true when your bodyguard is a high school teenager in a science graphic tee.

Grip on your hair and flash of metal more annoyed then terrified. You’d never say it out loud, but Peter was to blame for the situation. Taking you by the hand, guiding the both of you through an alley he claims to take all the time. It had seemed to be empty, only passing by a smoker at the entry way you didn’t look twice at.

Dickhead mugger was loudly whispering to Peter. Trying to be quiet but also making sure you knew he was serious. All it really did was fill your ear with spit.

You were really only half aware that Peter was looking at you during the hostage taking. Just as aware that his hand reached out although too far away to do anything physically. No offense to Peter but you had to help yourself.

Although not heroic it’s always smart to scream when you’re under attack. Screaming to fit the situation you reached back to his face, finding the side of his head. Thumbs pressing deep and hard into his eye socket. Even as Dickhead screamed you kept pressing, pressing until something gave and you were let go.

It was your turn to grab Peter’s hand after that. Running straight out from the alley, dragging your boy along with you. Making it past the subway until Peter urged you to slow down.

You weren’t nearly as panicked as you should have been. Peter making the deep breath gesture in the hopes you take the hint. Instead you make the mistake of looking down to your hands. A bloody red thumb making you really freak out.

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

Stephen Strange:

Something was wrong before you ever entered the sanctum. It wasn’t the odd silence as the sanctum was never really silent. There was always some sort of whispering coming right out of the walls or a rattle from the artifacts although there was no wind.

Walking through the building you pass by Wong at a next by a bookshelf. His head slowly rocks while reading, listening to his headphones. He makes a slight glance upwards as you pass, just to acknowledge you while you wave. Not bothering to stop and have a one-sided conversation until you touch something, and he makes you leave.

If Stephen hadn’t called out to you when you first enter he was probably busy. Leaving you to walk through the sanctum, leaving your jacket on a chair and bag tossed on a chair passing by.

It was a little past noon when you cross his bedroom’s doorway. Being greeted by the bare back of your man. At one point he was wearing his oddly average looking flannel robe, by now gravity had dragged it down from it’s place on his shoulders. Cloth gathering at the small of his back and wrists. If it weren’t for the ragged breathing and sweat he could have been a statue.

“Working out for once?” You ask, bag and jacket tossed on the bed.

No response.

“Stephen? You there?” Usually he’d snap out of the meditation when you entered the room. Other times he’d take a few seconds into minutes to finish up and then return.

Kneeling in front of him his breathing is still going crazy. His wrists are buried in the robe sleeves, so instead you reach towards his neck. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know how to find someone’s pulse.

Before finding the bumping vein he catches your wrist. An iron made of ice grip that was probably making your bones crack under the skin. His eyes were open but there was nothing in them. No pupil or color just discolored white that still stared right into you.

Although the first hand still holds like he’s trying to break your bones, the other is gentle. Resting above your wrist and sliding up your sleeve. Thumb gently touching the skin,

“Stephen, stop.” You said.

His gentle thumb dug into your skin. His nail cutting into your skin.

“Stephen, no. Stephen.” His grip is too strong to pull away.

In understandable self-defense your free hand pulls back. Slamming upward against his nose with the base of your hand. His head jerked backed with the break of his nose, but he gave no noise of being in pain. Head coming back to look at you with blood starting to dribble out of his nose and down his lip. Twist of your other hand and you’re free, scrambling back.

“WONG! WONG HELP!” You yell getting to your feet as Stephen goes back into the lotus position.

It takes a little more yelling before slamming feet come up the stairs. Wong stopping at the door way, giving you two seconds to explain before he would starting asking questions.

“Something wrong, he’s not waking up and his eyes are fucked.” You rapid fire explain, pulling your sleeve up. Finding that Stephen did break the skin with his nail. “What’s happening?”

Just like a regular medical emergency it’s best to get out of the way so those qualified can work. Taking a step back as Wong almost jumps over the gap between Stephen and bed, quickly sitting in front of him and closing his own eyes.

It’s hard to watch an event when it’s happening on an entirely other plane of existence. Sitting on the end of the bed, looking between them as though you could catch a speck of what was going on. The only hint you got that anything was actually happening was how Wong was gathering sweat on his brow, mirroring the damaged wizard in front of him.

In the end you lasted maybe two minutes imaging whatever battle or conversation was going on. Grabbing the bucket that was really nothing more than decorative and getting into the bathroom. It felt like forever before the thing was completely filled from the sink. Only made worse by the lack of noise, practically ruining the panic that was almost strangling anyone involved in this entire event.

In the entire event the only yelling or anything close coming to a battle cry came from you in tossing the bucket’s contents. The entire room was soaked in your attempt to just hit Stephen. Drenching the back of Wong, destroying the bed sheets and any paper that was left out in the area.

Both Wong and Stephen gasp and cough as through they had been drowning. Stephen, after holding his throat for a second, pulled his robe about himself. Looking to Wong and then up to you.

He doesn’t say thank you, he only nods. Later on, both you and Wong would interrogate him, he’d try and explain it, but you’d really never understand. Just standing there, ready with your bucket.

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

Matt Murdock:

It isn’t uncommon for those born and raised in a city to never learn how to swim. When you don’t live next to a large body of water or are willing to drag yourself to the closest pool, there was really no point.

Matt was not one of those people. Being submerged completely in water was not the best situation to be in but he could swim enough to live. But that was Dare-Devil who could swim, not Matt Murdock. When freezing water rushed into his mouth and his glasses were gone into the water he really wished there weren’t as many witnesses, or that it was night time, at least.

Hearing the crack of wood while walking around the docks wasn’t out of the ordinary. Hearing it so prominently under your girlfriend’s foot was. In the few seconds that sound gave him he grabbed you around the center, a small twirl and setting you on the other side. His stability giving out under his foot wasn’t unexpected. But the water was no less cold, and the fall was no less terrifying.

It’s harder for him to hear through the water. Reaching towards the surface, pulling himself up just enough to not die. The water in his mouth keeping him safe from pulling the cliché line: “help me! I can’t swim!”

In the end it didn’t matter that Matt had kept you from falling in. Right away knowing that the next weight hitting the water was his angel.

“Matt, Matt you need to calm down. Please stop flailing.” You say, grabbing around his center to keep him from bashing into you.

Swimming with clothes on is hard enough, even worse while pulling a man in equally heavy clothes. Dragging him through the water, guiding his hands to the ladder. He could pull himself up after that, pushing back to sit and wait for you to fret over him.

Seconds after Matt has disappeared anyone official on the dock was gone. Nothing like the words “fall” and “lawyer” to get people moving.

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

Carol Danvers:

On one of the few “date nights” you sit side by side at the bar. Carol sitting with a hand on your knee, the other holding her glass. She uses it to gesture while talking about some story or another, telling you about how she learned the newest way of swearing from some alien language.

The words seem to be unpronounceable to you, even Carol seemed to have a little difficulty. The more cranberry vodkas she drank, the less she was able to pronounce the words that consisted of a guttural sound and a whistle.

By the third a real problem arose. Knocking back the last of the liquid, now consisting of melted ice, little bit of flavored vodka and the lime, her hand goes to her throat when the glass is empty. It was hard to think that such a powerful being could be brought to panic by a lime wedge.

She tried to hide it at first, coughing into the corner of her elbow. When the coughing stopped she grabbed her throat, standing tall and knocking the stool to the floor. You didn’t bother asking if she was okay. Her grip on your forearm was all you needed to know something was really going wrong. Your own stool joining hers, slamming to ground as you went behind her.

Choking wasn’t anything new to this bar. A sign showing the steps to the Heimlich maneuver was strategically placed among the other trash the owner called decoration.

Wrapping your arms around her center from behind wasn’t anything new, either. One hand over the other, pulling back under her ribs with force, doing this again and again. Blonde hair, smelling like industrial shampoo, fluffs back into your face. Any small attempt at opening your mouth to try and soothe Carol was stopped by a mouthful of hair.

Heimlich maneuver doesn’t always work. Leaning back from her back, one still around her center. The other pulling back and slapping open handed between her shoulder blades. In a crude explanation, it was like burping an adult.

The lime doesn’t shoot out like in the movies. Just comes out with a few hearty coughs into Carol’s hand. She grabs the bar when you let her go, leaning forward against the edge. Still coughing while everyone was still just watching.

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