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llyncooljones · 2 years

Text

ladle your love on me - rowaelin month day eight.

ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month ‘22 masterlist

prompt: rowaelin dancing

word count: 1314

trigger warnings: language, slight sexual content

tag list: @rowaelinscourt @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @rowanaelin @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck

their kitchen, dinner time.

It was their first night in their own apartment. Aelin was sat snug on the countertop, between two teetering towers of moving boxes. If she tipped her head up, to read the messy handwriting in black permanent marker, she would discover they were full of her clothes.

In other words, the movers—Lorcan, Fenrys, Elide, and all the rest of their ragtag group of friends—they’d hired—bribed with Rowan’s cooking and Aelin’s stellar company—had done a shit job and deserved to be fired—kicked out of the living room they were lying down in, sans Rowan’s cooking.

Neither Aelin nor Rowan had thrown out any of their stuff nor did they want to. They weren’t hoarders, but when you put two lots of twenty-two years’ worth of stuff it certainly did appear so. Two sets of everything, double the amount of art than they had wall space to hang art.

She had a feeling that the next few months would be spent crying as she and Rowan donated copious amounts of stuff to charity shops and homeless shelters. She had a feeling that the next few months would be spent shouting at each other trying to figure out whose bedsheets were nicest, and whose plates were the newest, or the nicest, or the least likely to break when inevitably dropped by Aelin and her famed butter fingers.

Now, though, during their first night in the first place they can call theirs, she doesn’t worry about it. Or at the very least she tries not to worry about it all. Instead, she occupies herself by eavesdropping on the conversations their friends are having in their brand-new living room.

She joyous laughter jumping around from Fenrys, the low grunt that Lorcan rarely supplies their friend group with. The echoing slap as Elide swats at his upper arm, the chuckles Aedion and Lysandra blurt out, turning into one another’s arms for support.

And she just sits there, praying the teetering boxes don’t fall down on her head, thankful for all she has. Because she isn’t sure she could have done it—do anything, alone and cold.

As the voices quieten down, as turns her attention to the hulking figure in the same room as her, the giant who is cursing the too-short countertops and stopping every few minutes to roll his shoulders out and stretch the tightening muscles in his back.

And what a back it is, she thinks, staring intently at the muscles rippling and the way his tattoo peeks up at the neckline, and the way his bulky shoulders flow down into biceps you could squash a man’s head with.

“I can feel you staring at me, babe. Something you want to tell me?” his voice is smooth and scratchy, delicious in a way she can’t quite define.

She opens her mouth to answer him, suddenly shy. She taps her tongue against the back of her teeth, thinking up an answer that isn’t fuck me, right now. She can’t. She honestly can’t fathom a thought beyond the stunning looks of her boyfriend, her new live-in boyfriend.

“Taste test?” she asks, now with an excuse. Her boyfriend turns to her, his eyes raised, suspicion written all over his facial expressions. She knows it’s flimsy, why would she be staring, drooling over her boyfriend if all she really wanted was to taste his food. It doesn’t make sense, but ever the Aelin-lover, Rowan ignores her silliness, opting instead to grab a spoon and dip it in the sauce that was simmering, slowly thickening and becoming sticky.

He takes one measured step to the island, to her, before slotting himself in between her legs. Automatically, she wraps them around him, ankles resting above the curve of his ass. The ass she’s obsessed with, that she dreams about, that constantly wants to take a bite out of.

A hand goes under her chin, tipping her up to her boyfriend’s level, thumb and forefinger gripping her jaw, the others curled under to support her chin. The hand holding the spoon taps against her lips and she accepts the offering as if she’s a goddess and Rowan is her worshipper.

She feels the analogy fits, because the food he gives her, is a form of worship, and if it isn’t already should absolutely become a form. The rich flavours, the textures that just feel like heaven over her tongue, the skill and effortless passion he puts into his food, the way he cares for his recipes like he would a pet, or a family heirloom.

He slowly pulls the spoon from between her lips, she purposely bites on it, just so her boyfriend—ever irritated by the sound of teeth on metal—smacks her lightly on her hip, enough to sting, enough to heat her blood. With her legs still wrapped around his waist, her arms join the party: winding around his neck, her finger scratching at the short hair at the nape of his neck.

The trill of him placing the spoon down on the quartz countertops acted as a beat for them to begin to. With practised hands, Rowan grabbed her under her ass, pulling her up, spinning her around, and letting her slide down his front until she was on her feet.

Knowing some cosmic beat, Rowan timed them as they swayed. Her head tucked into the junction between his neck and shoulder, her arms slung lowly around his waist, thumbs snaking a journey under his shirt, playing with his waistband and the hot, supple skin there.

The thick arms of her boyfriend were slung around her shoulders, tightly squeezing her to him, and the delicious heat and weight of his body against hers. He swung them around the kitchen area, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, sometimes dramatically, sometimes subduedly.

It was gorgeous, the intimacy between them, how calm and in tune, they felt. They forget their food cooking on the stove, they forgot they had friends to feed, boxes to unpack, worries to worry about, and lives to live. All that seemed to exist was their imaginary music and the other.

Together.

two years later, their wedding.

Rowan and Aelin had not stopped laughing, crying, and smiling since the speeches had begun—over an hour and a half ago. Once one of their friends finished a speech about them, another took the stage, uninvited but very welcome.

Now, all their friends took to the stage and began their ‘together’ speeches, talking about times between all of them.

“Now, as a special treat to the married couple, we want to share with a video of the two of them, on a date over two years ago, on the day they moved into their apartment. If anybody were to ask me, ask any of us, when was the first time we realised Rowan and Aelin were never going to stop loving each other, would always be together, I, we, would tell you about this moment,” spoke Fenrys, “and I am man enough to admit, that watching this video brought tears to my eyes every single time.”

On a projector screen that had previously displayed slideshows of guests and the couple, was now a massive play button. With much fanfare, Fenrys reached onto his phone screen to press play.

The noise of socks against tiles filled the hall, and the slow breaths of whoever was filming it, they filled most of the screen—the rest obscured by a door frame. Squashed together on the screen were Rowan and Aelin.

Looking at the video, neither could tell where one of them began, and the other ended. They seemed to be one person. The video was short, but the swaying dance and the quiet murmurs of their conversation were enough to get their point across.

Was enough to have tears welling in both Aelin and Rowan’s eyes.

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin month #rowaelinscourt #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #tog #tog fic #my fic #my writing #llyncooljones' writing #rowan whitethorn

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skiitter · 3 years

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Also in my roundabout way I would like to request a Lann ficlet, start with angst but make it happy? or just happy. Or just anything because you are a great writer!!

okay so uh this got away from me but here's 3.8k words of lann pining after the commander and being an idiot in love.

He is not staring. He is restringing his longbow after their latest run in with the remaining demons still lingering in the area, that's it. He is absolutely not staring at his two companions huddled together across the fire. He is not watching with rapt, singular focus at their every interaction, seeking answers in her soft words, his sardonic remarks. The Aasimar gestures rudely with his hands, and she laughs loud, the chorus of it echoing through the empty ramparts. When Daeran dips his head low to whisper in her ear, the skin of her neck flushes and Lann forces himself to look away.

He's pretty sure they're sleeping together. It's hard to know for sure, thanks to his complete lack of experience in interpersonal relationships, not to mention his one and only lover having been someone he'd known since birth. Wenduag was a blunt edge of expectation, and Lann always knew exactly what was happening between them. When it comes to the Commander and Daeran, however, he isn't totally sure.

That unknowing, that gray area of wretched hope, is killing him. Falling for her was not on the agenda, seeing as she'll live for hundreds of years and he's lucky if he's got a decade left. Not to mention that she's (probably) gonna save the world and he's just some Mongrel who's legacy won't extend beyond the small role he's played in the crusade. He's never been a glutton for punishment, what with life underground being horrid enough already, but there is a sweet sting in accepting his unrequited love for her that he can't shake. It drives him, despite it's doomed end, to do whatever he can for her fight. If he cannot give her his heart, he will give her his life.

"You're staring," Seelah whispers, her hulking form crouched next to him as she sharpens her longsword.

"Can you blame me? Looking forlornly into the campfire is just one of my many talents."

Seelah chuckles and jerks her head slightly towards the Commander and Daeran. "Oh you're looking forlornly alright, but it's not at the flames. You should talk to her."

"I do talk to her. I talk to her everyday. Are you saying you don't? Honestly Seelah, she's your commander, you--"

"Fine fine, play coy. I'm just saying Lann, we could die at any minute. Do you really not want her to know how you feel?"

Lann swallows, the ugly reminder of mortality and how the sword strung above him dangles far lower than the Commander's tightening the sinew around his heart. "Sh--she doesn't need any more burdens. The Commander's got enough going on, what with that pesky Worldwound thing." He spares one last glance before turning his body away, enduring the biting cold as the heat of the fire leaves his scaled skin. "She doesn't want to deal with a lovesick Mongrel and really, who could blame her?"

"How could you possibly know what she wants if you don't talk to her?"

"Because it's not her wants I'm concerned with, it's her needs. And she needs me to be good ol' reliable Lann. She needs me to shoot my arrows and kill the baddies. She needs--she needs something she can count on and that something is me."

The Abyss happens all at once and it's a miserable experience for them all. Their time in Drezen made him soft, he thinks, because the camp at the Nexus is horrifically uncomfortable. The ground is somehow colder and harder than any other he's slept on and no amount of fire really chases away the shadows.

They spend a significant amount of time in Alushinyrra, and a significant amount of money staying at the Bad Luck Tavern just to avoid the discomforts of the Nexus. It's on one such expensive stay that a group of frankly moronic thugs try and rob the Commander while she sleeps. Her ever-present and ruthlessly protective Velociraptor dispenses them in quick measure, ripping the throat out of the final victim before Lann even has his bow drawn.

Up until that point they'd opted for three rooms, in groups of two, but they downsize to one after the attack. The Commander's life was hardly in danger but playing with fate isn't something she likes to do, chaotic nature be damned. The tavern owner grumbles but, with a golden incentive, allows them to drag one of the other beds into the room so the sleeping arrangements aren't quite so cramped.

Ember curls up into the Commander's side, her sisterly affection having transformed them from companions to near family. Woljif takes the other bed, offering half of it to Regill. The severe gnome answers him with a severe look and Woljif extends the offer to Lann instead. He glances at Daeran but the Aasimar is already tucking himself into the space between the Commander and the wall. With not a small amount of jealousy, Lann resigns himself to his fate and joins Woljif.

A soft rustling pulls him from a restless slumber some time later and Lann wakes just in time to see the Commander whisper something to Regill, who is stationed at the door, before slipping into the hallway with Daeran in tow. He watches them until they vanish and, as he looks away, makes uncomfortable eye-contact with the gnome. Regill's face is as impassive as always, but Lann feels guilty for some reason, like a kid caught with his hand in the rat cage.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Regill asks him as they head out the next morning. Well, not morning since there is no sun or sky or joy in Alushinyrra.

"Hard to say, this city does tend to be a bit on the rough side," Lann responds.

"The Commander has assured me any physical relationships she has with the party aren't going to be a problem." It's not a question but it's not not a question and Lann looks around to make sure the others aren't paying attention.

"We uh, we aren't in a physical relationship?"

"I know."

"Riiiiiight."

"But you want to be, which is arguably worse. So I'll ask you again, is this going to be a problem?"

It occurs to Lann that he should probably do a slightly better job of keeping his apparently obvious feelings on the Commander to himself. "Uh, no. No, it's not." Regill doesn't seem satisfied but then again, when does he ever? "Is uh, I mean, are the Commander and Daeran--"

"I do not gossip," Regill snarls. "Bother the thief with nonsense like that."

Lann does not, in fact, bother the thief with nonsense like that. Instead, he pushes down the swelling of affection he feels at every interaction with the Commander and focuses on the mission. It goes well enough, all things considered, until Savamelekh shows up and nearly kills him.

The demon's revelations are a bit too much for his overtaxed heart to bear and the subsequent bender doesn't help at all. When the Commander finds him, though, he just babbles on about wanting to prove to her he can be what she wants, what she needs, and that she can trust him. "I want to be somebody you can count on. I don't have anything to offer apart from my bow and my dumb jokes....and my life. And they're all yours, if you want them." He glances away, shame and discomfort crushing him from the inside out. "But I doubt you do, not now that I've let you down."

"....I could never turn my back on someone I care about just like that." She's been talking this whole time but it's these words that register hard and fast. Lann stares at her, and she stares back, and the weight of things unsaid on her face is a blessed curse. He forces a smile, bashful but steady, and pulls away from the conversation. It's too much to think about, especially because hope is not his friend, despite its insistence on hanging around.

Later, back at camp, away from everyone but her sharp-eyed Velociraptor, the Commander comes for him. He's not avoiding her, not that he really could thanks to the nature of their new normal in the Abyss, but he's not not avoiding her either. He's sitting at the edge of the cliff, staring out over the sea of fire and the city of demons. She sits beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and they are quiet for a long time.

"Next time I get drunk and come to pour my heart out to you, I'll jot down notes first," he says lightly, glancing at her. Her face is hard to read, not the open expression she'd given him back at the tavern, but he knows her well enough to know she's bothered by something. "I'm kidding of course. I'd never do that -- I don't do notes, I improvise."

"Why do you do that?"

"Improvisation is just one of my many skills, honed from my illustrious life as a Mongrel hunter. Sometimes, you got out to hunt for some rats and end up fighting a--"

"Lann, stop." He does, if only because her tone is firm. "Why do you always demean what you say with humor?"

"I'm....funny like that?"

She scowls at him and her raptor lets out a soft hiss. He's pretty sure they're connected, somehow, because otherwise that would be just plain freaky. "I love that you're funny, Desna knows we need something lighthearted with Regill around, but sometimes I--" She falters, his rocksteady monument of a Commander, and it scares him. "Sometimes I just want you to tell me how you feel."

His heart races, and hope is such a dangerous, cruel thing. "I did tell you how I felt...I meant what I said, back at the tavern. I...I'd do anything for you." The confession settles between them, demanding to be addressed.

"For me, or for the crusade, for the cause?" She's asking him a different question, he thinks.

"I--"

"Because Lann, I--you are--"

"What about Daeran?" He says it in a rush, because he can't handle whatever it is she's trying to confess.

"What about Daeran?"

"Aren't you--ya know--"

"Lann, would you do anything for me or for the crusade? To whom are you pledging your life too? Is it me? I need to know because I cannot carry on like this."

More shame, some more guilt, all for Lann. Of course his unwanted affections made her uncomfortable, of course he took her caring treatment of him to mean more than it was supposed to. He wants to leave, because he also kind of wants to cry. "Commander..."

"Not commander. Lann, please for this moment can I just be a person to you?"

She's crying, for some reason, and he doesn't know what to do. "You're always a person to me. I--you know that."

"To whom do you pledge your life?"

In the end, he knows what's more important. "The--the crusade." Lann knows that she needs to be able to rely on him without thinking he's reading into her every action, her every word. His wants are second to her needs, just as it should be.

Her face crumples, though, and the twist of her mouth breaks his heart. "Right. Okay. Of course." She stands, dusting her robes off and refuses to look him in the eye. Lann realizes immediately that he's said the wrong thing, despite his efforts to do the exact opposite.

"Commander--"

"Have a good night, Lann. Thank you for….thank you for clearing that up."

Her raptor snarls at him when he stands up to stop her and she is gone.

The next day, she announces they are heading deep into the heart of the Abyss. And, for the first time since he followed her out of the dark and into the sun, she leaves him behind.

Six months. Six long, bloody, dangerous months. He runs point with Greybor, struggling to keep the Commander's hoard of refugees safe, and spends each watch with Solsiel, pointedly not talking about their missing leader.

Several times the idea of her death comes up and he stops fighting against it. He's pretty sure they'd leave but there is no where to go. Groups of demons hunt them for sport and it's a miracle he's able to keep himself in one piece. Nenio is insufferable. Seelah is too positive. He misses Ember, and Wolfji. He misses Regill and his cold practicality. He misses the Commander and the smile she used to shoot him when he'd struck down an enemy in their path.

Eventually, it's just the five of them left. Every other life she'd saved has been systematically eradicated by the horrors of the Abyss. Still, they wait because what else are they supposed to do?

She returns, of course, because she's more myth than woman these days. What was six horrific months in hell for those left behind, was less than two weeks for them. Two weeks. The Commander doesn't cry when she sees the devastation that's been wrought in the wake of her absence. Her left hand trembles, but she stays strong. Just as quickly as they'd come, she shows them the way home.

Drezen is in shambles and it takes another week just to kill the demon forces that have taken their city. In that week, she treats him as warmly as she does Greybor. That is to say, her polite indifference is breaking him.

As things return to normal, and he contends with the loss of his tribe, Lann considers what to do. He's messed up, somehow, and he's spent six months worrying over it. He's pretty sure she wanted him to admit that it was to her he swore his life. He's pretty sure he knows why. A (admittedly short) life spent hunting for things unseen and he completely missed the things she'd tried to say.

He misses her feverishly. She's busy, daily, managing the shambles left of her crusade armies after the Queen had her way with them. The party has yet to leave Drezen since returning and Daeran has yet to leave the Commander's side. Lann feels replaced, usurped, and he cannot take it anymore.

Her door is shut, but there is candlelight spilling out underneath. Before the courage leaves him, he knocks and calls out her name.

"Lann?" She opens the door and he's half expecting to see Daeran, arrogant and naked, sprawled across her bed. Instead it's just her, exhausted and anxious, looking at him with a guarded expression. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, ya know, just everything." He tries for humorous but it comes out pathetic and they both frown. "Can I--can I come in?"

She steps aside, allowing him entrance. He's never been here, in all his time in Drezen, and while he's not totally sure what he expected, it's still a surprise. Her quarters are small, smaller than the house she'd given him upon their initial taking of the city. The desk is covered in maps and missives, and her gear is in a pile by the door. The raptor has a bed, set up beside her own, and Lann is pretty sure it looks far more comfortable than the Commander's. There is nowhere to sit so they both just stand there, awkward and uncomfortable, as she closes the door.

"What's going on? Have you heard from the clan?"

That particular sting of worry rolls over him and Lann shakes his head to push it away. "No, not yet. All quiet on the Mongrel front."

"I'm sorry, Lann." She reaches out for a moment, as if to comfort him, but stops herself short. "We'll find them, I promise."

"I didn't come here to talk about the clan."

"Okay."

"Boy, is this awkward. Uhm," he clears his throat to buy time. "Do you remember that last conversation we had?"

Her expression becomes an echo of the one she wore that night. "I do."

"I uh, I would like to do it over again."

The Commander narrows her eyes. "Why?"

Lann runs a hand through his hair, and stares at the wall beside her because if he looks at her, he'll fall apart. "I think I messed it up."

"Lann, you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I kinda do."

She shakes her head. "It's okay I know that--what you said it's--we're fine."

"You were gone for six months, ya know. Six shitty, ugly months. You've never left me behind before." It's not an accusation but she flinches anyway. "I had a lot of time to think. Not a lot else to do, really. Well, aside from entertaining Nenio and rejecting Camellia's frankly terrifying propositions."

"She asked to sleep with you?" The Commander is suddenly furious and Lann is shameless in how warm her indignation makes him feel.

"Well, not in so many words and really, I'm kind of dense, but sneaking into my bed at night was--"

"Did she hurt you?"

"I--what?"

"Did she hurt you?"

"I--I don't know what you think sex with a Mongrel is like--"

"You slept together?" Her fury simmers down and turns her face cold.

"No! This isn't about that. I don't want to talk about Camellia. It was only once and--no. She didn't--we--nothing happened."

"You could--"

"Commander, excuse the insubordination here, but please shut up. This isn't easy and I'm losing my nerve." She frowns, but stays silent. "I want to change my answer."

"To what question?"

"To the one you asked me that night. I lied."

"What?" The inflection is too hopeful and Lann forces himself to look at her.

"It's not for the crusade or the cause or the world. It's--it's for you. My life, I mean. I'm pledging it to you. I misread things, I didn't understand what you meant. I--my life, my bow, my dumb jokes, it's yours." He struggles not to fidget, or downplay what he's saying with humor. She's staring at him, and she's crying but this time he knows why. "And my heart. If--if you want it. It's yours."

"Lann," she whispers and closes the gap between them. Her hands come up to cup the sides of his face, and they are trembling. It's a perfect match to his own shaking nerves. "Are you sure?"

He laughs, and it's watery. "It's hardly something precious to me. It's just all I have to give you and--and well really, it's already yours."

"How long?"

"Ugh no, the last thing you need to know is how long I've been pining over you."

"It was the Gargoyle attack for me, the one at the camp." She confesses it so easily, and he's rendered speechless. "When it was you that came to find me and tell me everyone was taken, my very first thought was relief; relief because they didn't take you." She presses her forehead to his own, their noses brushing. "From the moment we left for Colyphyr, I regretted leaving you behind. I could barely focus for the first few days because I was so worried about you. Every day I woke up, expecting to see you, to talk to you, and you weren't there and it was my fault. I was so mad at myself for letting my stupid feelings get in the way but the thought of having you near and knowing you'd never want me that way it--" her voice breaks and he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have realized what you were asking, I--"

"No, I'm sorry," She pulls back to look at him. "I'm so sorry I didn't just come right out and ask you how you felt. I was just scared, scared of rejection and what I would do if you said no."

"I would never--I love you." He reddens from ear to tail and he immediately wants to take it back.

Her eyes widened. "You do?"

"Well, I didn't really want to just come out and say it. I was hoping for a little more romance. Some candles, maybe a rat shaped pastry or two. We could probably get someone to play--"

"I love you, too." She captures his mouth with her own before he can stumble over anymore words and Lann relents happily to her efforts. She kisses him like he's always wanted to kiss her, all passion and tenderness, and disgustingly sincere affection. Their arms wind around one another and she pulls him to her bed.

Lann stops her. "We don't have too, really. I know I'm not exactly easy to look at--"

"Lann. I’m only going to say this once, so pay attention.” She sets him down beside her and once more takes his face in her hands. “Don’t you ever, ever talk about yourself that way again, okay? I love you, all of you, every bit and I want you, in any and every way you’ll let me.” She kissed him again, softly. “We don’t have to rush into anything, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just--just please know that, regardless of what you’ve been told, you’re beautiful and--and I will happily take you to bed every night.”

“Just to bed?” He aims for suggestive and, every bit the archer, he strikes true. “But there are so many other places I wish to be taken.”

“We’ll have a veritable world tour of it, but for now, can I have you here? Because this is all I’ve thought about for months and if I don’t fulfill that fantasy, I may die.”

“Regill would have my head for that.”

“He is possibly the least sexy person you could bring up at this point in time.”

Lann crowds into her, forcing her backwards until he has her pinned beneath him. “Imagine the report I’d have to write: Knight-Commander of the Fifth Crusade dies because local Mongrel fails to fulfill her sexual fantasies.” He kisses her once before moving his attention down the breadth of her jawline, and onto her neck. Her breath hitches, pressing her body up into his. “Good thing that’ll never happen because I’m a terrible writer.”

“Lann,” it’s nearly a whine, only just, but it’s enough to make him shudder, “please.” He’s always been excellent at following orders and there is no reason to stop now. Whatever she needs, he thinks, whatever she asks, he’ll give. It’s a scary thought, but it’s the only one he’s had for it feels like his whole life. Her hands snake across the skin of his chest, pulling at his armor with frantic hands. “Let me see you. Let me touch you.”

He relents, and soon they are but a tangled mess of limbs. It’s nothing like he’s known, but he’s ruined forever now. He’s hers, like he has been since that serendipitous moment beneath the ruins of Kenabres, and to his unbelievable shock and surprise, she is his.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #wrath of the righteous #lann #lmao holy fuck this got away from me #its p good tho #we love a good angsty pine #thank u anon #sorry this took me a few days!#skitterfics #Edit: Some of Lann's dialog is taken straight from the game #i don't wanna try and pass that off as my own obv

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grumpyhedgehogs · 3 years

Text

premonition

Summary: Ten year old Anakin dreams of the future. (It isn't bright.)

Notes: In which little Anakin dreams about Vader killing Obi-Wan on the Death Star. I love to hurt my favorites, what can I say.

Warnings: nightmares, violence, fear/panic, implied/referenced slavery and death.

AO3

Anakin is prone to nightmares, has been since he could barely remember the difference between a dream and reality. They can be vague, like the idea of running from something chasing him, or incredibly realistic, like the nightmares he has about Watto sometimes. Sometimes they’re about things that have actually happened, like the one about the sandstorm that sealed him and his mother inside their hut for weeks once when he was five. They can even be about things that haven’t happened yet--like the one he’d had when he was five that he’d only remembered when he’d had to run across the dunes with a dark figure on a speeder dogging his footsteps.

Those are the ones that make Obi-Wan’s brow pinch and his mouth go tight and thin when Anakin tells him about them. Sometimes he looks like he’s almost angry with Anakin and that’s bad until Obi-Wan kneels down and wraps his arms around Anakin and tells him that Obi-Wan understands how upsetting the future nightmares can be and that he gets them too and it’s going to be alright. Then it’s better because Anakin’s heart starts beating again when he hugs back. So the nightmares come and they go and sometimes they make him tired and mad or scared for a long time, but Obi-Wan is here and he promised to keep Anakin safe. So it’s okay. Obi-Wan is kind and he listens when Anakin gets scared and he doesn’t yell even when Anakin gets mean because he’s angry. Obi-Wan makes sweet smelling tea and reads to him about heroes and monsters and happy endings and he tells him about his own bad dreams and says that it’s okay to be scared as long as one doesn’t let their fear control them. Obi-Wan is really good at meditation and he helps Anakin with it even though it’s hard and he can’t get the hang of dropping into a trance just yet.

But these nightmares are different.

These nightmares always start the same: Anakin is running and his chest burns with exertion and he can’t breathe quite right. The hallways around him are long and winding, all polished black and white and hard grey durasteel. Sometimes there are doors that open and faces peek out at him but they don’t look right: the faces have big black eyes and wide mouths that stretch all the way across, and their outer skin is a hard, blank white. Their heads are bulbous and their limbs are bulky and they wield blasters. Anakin runs even faster when he sees the doors are open. Sometimes there are men and women in grey suits with funny little hats walking in the halls, but Anakin passes right through them when he runs into them. He thinks maybe they’re ghosts, but not real ghosts. Ghosts are people who are dead and the Force whispers to him that they aren’t dead people. Not yet. (Sometimes they are young and the Force tells him they haven’t been born yet but that makes it hard for Anakin to concentrate on running so he tells the Force to shut up.)

Anakin’s legs ache and he trips sometimes. He skids around corners and bumps into walls that make a hollow clang when his body collides with them, like they’re all durasteel. He misses the wide open spaces and light stone of the Temple. If he stops, Anakin coughs from exhaustion, and his breath never comes fast enough and his throat feels like its swollen closed to the size of a straw. So Anakin doesn’t stop much.

At the beginning of the nightmares, he doesn’t know why he’s running or why he is where he is. Anakin always seems to forget the reason it’s so important he runs and doesn’t stop, even though he wakes up and remembers that he’s had this nightmare before every time. But the Force shouts warnings in his head, blaring like a siren, and Anakin knows he has to go. The Force tells him to go, go help, he needs your help, why won’t you help him? And Anakin tells it, mouth too dry to actually form the words, no breath left inside him to speak, I’m going, I’m trying, I want to help please I want to help just tell me how!

But this is a nightmare, so the Force never answers him.

There’s sounds in the nightmares too, shouting and footsteps and sometimes explosions, but mostly he hears blaster fire. (Anakin didn’t used to know what that sound was until a mission with Master Obi-Wan went wrong and Obi-Wan had had to curl himself up around Anakin to keep him safe from the fighting. Afterwards when they were safe he’d gotten down on his knees and his eyebrows were drawn together and his eyes were really big in his face; he’d told Anakin that he was so, so sorry that he’d led Anakin into a life-threatening situation and that they’d have to talk about this because it was alright if Anakin got scared even when they were safe and that it was never okay for an adult to make him feel unsafe and Anakin had thrown his arms around him and held on tight.) Sometimes if the blaster fire goes quiet at the right moment he can hear the ignition sound of a lightsaber. There’s another noise too, one that Anakin always forgets about until he hears it again. It makes his blood run so cold in his veins that he yelps, but his voice is too high and too quiet and all the other noise covers it.

He doesn’t want to go towards the noise that scares him, but the Force says he’s fighting! And Anakin says what can I do to help? But the Force always ignores him, just screams he’s going to lose!

Anakin runs.

His nightmares always end in the same place. It’s a bigger hallway than the ones he starts in, and there are more of those people with funny outfits and strange faces here. He can sometimes glimpse a ship in the background over their shoulders; it’s round and busted up, but it looks like it can still fly and Anakin knows that if he can just keep running, that ship will be a safe place. (Anakin only remembers that he has never made it to the ship when he wakes up.) There are stars out there too, out beyond the edges of his dream, but they are not like the stars he knows. These stars--they’re crying.

In the middle of the big hallway is the source of the sound that Anakin hates, that makes his bones shake and his heart beat so hard it nearly breaks his ribs. The figure is big, bigger than he’s ever seen, even bigger than a Wookie. It looms over him, hulking and distant. It is a black void, cold and angry and hungry. The figure makes that noise that scares Anakin because it gasps and chokes on every breath. The very air they expel and intake becomes a rasping, gagging thing that sucks at Anakin’s Light in the Force and billows out smoky Darkness. The Force tells Anakin that is a person, but not like any person should be: it’s not real, only it’s already real, it has always been real but could never be real if Anakin fixes his nightmare. (Anakin has never figured out how to fix it before he wakes.) It makes Anakin want to scream or cry or hide but the Force pulls his eyes away from the monster to look at Obi-Wan.

Because Obi-Wan is always there in these nightmares. His lightsaber is sometimes more recognizable than his Master’s face and it frightens Anakin. The kyber in the hilt of the blue 'saber sings at him, reaching tendrils of the Force out to caress at his shields, but Anakin knows he can’t open his mind to it because the other kyber crystal, the red one (they aren’t supposed to be red, Obi-Wan said so), screams, constantly and tirelessly, so loud Anakin can barely think.

Obi-Wan is sometimes just like he was when they first met. His hair is short and a Padawan braid brushes past his shoulder, which doesn’t make sense because if he were still a Padawan Anakin couldn’t be his Padawan, which Anakin very much is! His robes are all burned and scorched and he has lost his robe somewhere. He moves differently too; all gangly and awkward and his lightsaber form is too aggressive to match the one Master Obi-Wan picked up when he started training Anakin. His fighting style and youth don’t keep him safe from the crimson ‘saber.

Obi-Wan is sometimes as he is now. (Those nightmares are the worst ones.) His hair has grown out but his cheeks are still round and full. There are circles under his eyes, the ones he keeps telling Anakin not to worry about but Anakin worries about anyway, and his limbs are still a tiny bit awkward. But his ‘saber form matches and his footing is sure. But it isn’t enough and this Obi-Wan only lasts a little longer than Padawan Obi-Wan does, even if he fights harder and smarter.

Obi-Wan is sometimes older than he is now, his hair shorter than a Knight’s haircut and Anakin knows he must be the same as the monster and the people in funny clothes and with funny faces: he’s the ghost from Obi-Wan’s future, who Obi-Wan is going to be after Anakin grows up with him. He has weird bulky armor over his robes with a strange symbol on his forearm, but he moves gracefully, steady and confident even as blood slips from a cut on his temple. He looks like a statue, like he’s carved from stone; Anakin would be scared if he didn’t know it was Obi-Wan. This Obi-Wan shouts when he falls, but goes down fighting.

Obi-Wan is seldom the oldest Anakin has ever seen him. His hair is white and his face is wrinkled. He’s a future ghost too, and every time he has this nightmare the Force screams when Anakin sees him. His mouth is set in a smile which makes Anakin want to cry. His shoulders are rounded and his lightsaber form is once again different from what Anakin knows Master Obi-Wan uses now. His robes are covered in sand and dust and he looks so very tired. This Obi-Wan is the only one who reacts to Anakin’s eyes landing on him.

It always happens at the last second: Anakin slips around the monster and hurls himself towards Obi-Wan only to find his feet locked to the ground, like his boots melted and became one with the floor. He stands, stuck and still, between his Master and the monster. He wants to turn around and look at the monster, wants to see what kind of face a being that Dark in the Force must have, but he remembers the dream about running from a Sith across the sands, and he stays still. Run! He always shouts at his Master through the Force. We have to run! He’ll hurt us!

All the other Obi-Wans don’t listen or even signal that Anakin exists. They pass through him when they clash with the monster just like all the other future ghosts do. Anakin feels tears welling in his eyes but these versions of his Master don’t take notice, don’t stop and try to assess his wellbeing. They don’t know he’s even there.

Then the being surges forward, so fast that Anakin’s hair ruffles and he cringes forward, seeking the warmth of Obi-Wan in front of him, seeking the safety and concern and protectiveness that Obi-Wan has come to symbolize in his life. But the flare of plasma swings over Anakin’s head and even though he screams as the cold fills the space Obi-Wan used to occupy.

But the oldest Obi-Wan looks down at him. He stands still and lets the monster approach instead of meeting it halfway, and in that moment he sees Anakin. He always does the same thing. He raises his lightsaber in the traditional greeting pose Obi-Wan taught Anakin to do before a training match. He lets the blue light flicker and die as he cuts the switch. He smiles. And in Anakin’s mind, through the bond that glows golden and soft in the back of his head, through the Force, Obi-Wan tells him: My dear Anakin, do not be afraid.

In those versions of the nightmare Anakin always wakes up before the monster can strike his Master.

Anakin has had one of those dreams tonight. It’s the first one in several months; perhaps childishly, Anakin had thought he was getting better. (“You’re only ten, Anakin,” Obi-Wan tells him whenever he tries to be more adult. “You’re allowed to be a child.”) He has slept through the night on his own many times and he doesn’t even need a light on in the living area of their quarters anymore. But here he is, panting and sweating and cold and crying. Anakin’s shoulder hitch up around his ears and he feels the sticky tracks his tears make across his skin, cheeks overheating and aching. His legs tremble with phantom pain and his heart pounds so hard he can see it through his nightclothes. The Force is unsettled, swirling and cresting around him and his bond is too quiet, too soft even though it glows with his Master’s presence just on the other side of the wall separating their rooms.

Obi-Wan always leaves the door cracked open; he’d said it was for airflow, but Anakin isn’t stupid. He used to come in here every night to check on his Master. He’d been used to sleeping in the same room as his mother and couldn’t shake the idea that something could happen to Obi-Wan, that something could get to him while Anakin slept on blissfully unaware in the next room. Obi-Wan hated that the door creaked when Anakin opened it, so he left it open all the time. The extra measure was supposed to help Obi-Wan stay asleep when Anakin visited in the night, but every time, without fail, Obi-Wan would open his eyes before Anakin even stepped up to his bedside.

Tonight is no different. Through the shadows of his bedroom, Obi-Wan’s eyes are bright as they fix upon Anakin’s face; he can practically feel Obi-Wan’s brow cinch when he sees the tear stains. “Bad dream?” Obi-Wan’s voice is as soft as their bond, and it curls around Anakin just like his Master’s Force Signature does, soothing the whirling, whimpering Force and bolstering his shields.

“Nightmare.”

Obi-Wan does not point out that his answer comes on the end of a sob and opens his arms instead. The blankets settle around Anakin’s shoulders, almost too hot from Obi-Wan’s body heat. Still he presses closer and Obi-Wan welcomes him, curling an arm around him and rubbing at his back. He sighs, making a wet little noise against the crook of his Master’s neck. Obi-Wan holds on just a little tighter. It makes something in Anakin’s chest clench.

“Rest now, Padawan.”

Before Obi-Wan can finish, before he can say the words Anakin knows he will say because he says them every time, Anakin makes himself a promise. He locks his fingers into the collar of Obi-Wan’s nightshirt and feels the too hot warmth of his skin and hearts the soft breaths above his head and the rustle of the bedclothes as Obi-Wan tucks them both in and he promises himself. He promises, I will keep you safe. He promises, I’ll save you from the monster, Master. He promises, We can fight it together, Obi-Wan.

But the words that fall from Obi-Wan’s lips every time he has a nightmare always make Anakin shake with a cloying, cold darkness he cannot rid himself of.

“My dear Anakin, do not be afraid.”

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #265: EVE OF DESTRUCTION

March, 1986

THE RAGE OF THE BEYONDER!

Rage? But he was having such a good day last time he was in Avengers!

Dammit, the Secret Wars II, now I have to explain non-Avengers stuff!

So last times on Avengers: For reasons that I don’t want to keep explaining (but it was Vision’s fault) the Avengers wound up in space allied to the Skrulls to stop Nebula the maybe granddaughter of Thanos from taking over the splintering Skrull Empire. They almost captured her when the Beyonder showed up and teleported her away because of something stupid Firelord said.

Later, back on Earth, the Beyonder showed up and played tag with the Avengers to make up for helping Nebula get away. Except he didn’t tell them he was playing tag. So all they saw was an unfathomably powerful cosmic entity up to Something.

Once that got cleared up, Wasp asked the Beyonder to join the Avengers because Starfox’s spot on the roster was open and it’d be a REALLY good way to keep an eye on the Beyonder and maybe teach him some good behavior.

He said no because there was so much on Earth he wanted to experience but left in good spirits.

Meanwhile, the Avengers kept building a Beyonder detector because the guy is an unfathomably cosmic entity hanging out on Earth.

So what about last times on Secret Wars II?

Well, I’m not going to read it all but the Beyonder’s Fun Vacation on Earth has taken a downturn.

By Secret Wars II #8, he’s decided that ever discovering the Marvel universe was the worst thing he ever did and now he wants to blow it all up so he can go back to existing alone as a living, sapient dimension that doesn’t ever have to think about anything or wonder what it would be like to be different.

Molecule Man, who is desperately trying to act as the Beyonder’s therapist because he likes the universe existing, tries to convince the Beyonder that he’ll feel fulfilled and like a part of things if he wills himself mortal and live as the mortals do.

Since the Beyonder is also becoming paranoid now, he’s convinced that this is a trick to make him vulnerable. And then he goes off to sulk for twenty-four hours and uses mind control to get a sweet penthouse suite and make a lady fall in love with him.

Not great.

He’s attacked by the X-Men, the Hulk, and the New Mutants and reacts with varying levels of disinterest and annoyance. He talks to Spider-Man and does decide to give the mortality thing a try but when he goes to talk to Molecule Man about it, Molecule Man attacks him, still thinking he’s going to try to blow up the entire universe.

The Beyonder goes to sulk and plan the end of existence in the Rocky Mountains when yet another superhero team shows up. This time the ones that this liveblog is concerned with: the Avengers.

They actually try to talk to him instead of attacking but he’s in no mood (and also Captain America comes on a little judgemental just because the Beyonder’s no mood created a storm that almost crashed the Quinjet) so he blasts them away with a tornado and captures Captain America WHO DODGED A TORNADO.

And that’s the relevant context!

Now I can finally get into the actual issue!

Oh, right. That IS where the relevant Secret Wars II issue left off.

Inside the vortex (which isn’t a natural tornado because it’s not putting out any wind, its just a self-contained spin), Captain Marvel uses her powers to turn into electrical energy and slows it down somewhat.

Namor tries to fight the spin with his little ankle wings.

Black Knight tries to kill the vortex with his sword WHICH WORKS a little. Apparently his extremely cursed sword can diffuse energy.

But these are all papercuts to the Beyonder’s vortex. It requires something bigger, which Hercules provides with one big CLAP!

With the vortex obliterated, now the Avengers are falling to their deaths.

Captain Marvel energy nyooms into the falling Quinjet to try prevent it from falling on any homes.

Namor grabs Black Knight and lowers him safely to Earth.

And nobody is available to help Hercules.

Hercules, picking himself out of a heap that used to be a barn: “Where is he? Where is the miscreant that let me fall? Where is the Sub-Mariner?”

Black Knight tries to soothe Hercules’ ruffled feathers by pointing out that Namor didn’t deliberately let him fall any more than Hercules deliberately smashed the barn.

The adjacent and very confused farmer questions how one buff man leveled a barn all by himself.

Black Knight: “Yes, but he didn’t mean to. He’s Hercules... And I’m the Black Knight. We’re Avengers, Mister --?”

Brannum: “B-Brannum. Yeah, I’d heard about you Avengers fellers on the TV news... but I thought they were pullin’ my leg until now.”

It’s come up a few times but I’m still so baffled by how superheroes are considered just a weird New York think that a lot of people don’t really believe in.

I don’t think its a take that could take in more modern Marvel. The advances in recording and media coverage and all. More superheroes outside of New York.

It was actually considered a weird thing when Squirrel Girl runs into a superhero “truther.”

So I could see how this guy could think maybe superheroes were fake, only seeing news reports about them. But its still sooooooo weird.

Anyway, Captain Marvel tells Brannum that he’ll be reimbursed for the damages to his property.

Somewhere, Tony Stark just got really annoyed and doesn’t know why.

‘I’m not even on that team anymore and I’m still paying to clean up after them!’ Maybe?

I joke about that but the Maria Stark Foundation deals with that so technically it happens without ever having to bother Tony?

Anyway anyway.

As dude convinced he’s always in charge, Namor assumes that he’s now in charge. Despite being the newest guy on the team.

Hercules takes issue with it, because Namor has been getting on his nerves, and tries to start a fight. Which leaves Monica to have to be the adult in the room, yet again.

Captain Marvel: “We do not have time for any more of your squabbling! You’re still a probational Avenger, Namor -- if you want to stay a part of this team, you’d better straighten up and fly right... and I mean it!”

Namor: “You... shame me, Marvel.”

Captain Marvel: “You shame yourself, Namor...”

OH DANG.

Even Namor has to privately admit she’s right, as he flies off to pull the Quinjet out of the lake Monica crashed it into.

Captain Marvel: “And you, Hercules... does your temper have to be as legendary as your strength? I’d think that after thousands of years, you’d be above bickering with mortals.”

Hercules: “Namor is no mere mortal... but I see your point, Marvel. I... regret my behavior.”

Black Knight gets in on it by suggesting Hercules go help Namor with the Quinjet.

Ha.

While they’re off doing that, he suggests that Captain Marvel be the temporary leader.

Black Knight: “Well, C.M., you’re certainly better able to keep Herc and Subby in line than I am. Until we can contact the Wasp, it looks to me like you’re in command.”

Captain Marvel: “Is that a vote of confidence, Dane -- or one of sympathy?”

Black Knight: “Both!”

HA!

I know that Captain Monica leads the Avengers for a while. It was a joke in Nextwave that she won’t shut up about it. And I knew it happened during Stern’s run. But I didn’t know that the seeds were planted this far back.

Meanwhile, the Beyonder’s sulking lair in the Colorado Rockies.

He has Captain America chained to the wall and lectures a while on how he knows Cap’s exact capabilities because he observed him down to his atomic structure when he (the Beyonder) first arrived on Earth. And made his (the Beyonder’s) body a copy of Cap’s with a few aesthetic creative flourishes.

Since Cap doesn’t react to any of this, the Beyonder gets annoyed that he wasn’t surprised.

Captain America: “I know how limitless your powers are. The thing I can’t understand is why you’ve gotten so destructive.”

Beyonder: “I’m not destructive! I am simply frustrated. I was complete before I came to your world. But now I am not! I cannot get back the peace I knew before I learned of your universe. I’m afraid I will have to erase all of existence before I am content again.”

Hey, uh, pal? Blowing up the universe is, by definition, destructive?

Back over to the Avengers, they managed to get the waterlogged Quinjet flying again. Neat.

Also, Captain Marvel zipped around as radio waves looking for help and she wasn’t able to find anyone.

She wasn’t able to find the Wasp but she did leave messages for the West Coast Avengers, Fantastic Four, Alpha Flight, and even the X-Men.

Hercules: “The X-Men?! Those mutants harbor the arch-fiend Magneto!”

Captain Marvel: “I’m as appalled by that as anyone, Hercules. But the Beyonder’s become so crazed, we’ll eventually need all the help we can muster.”

Ahhhh, square in the misunderstanding zone. Where the X-Men constantly live.

I can’t help but feel like this could have been avoided if Xavier had bothered to have a sit-down with the Avengers and Fantastic Four before he jetted off to space to make out with his space girlfriend while leaving his traumatized New Mutants students in Magneto’s incapable hands.

The Avengers are not unfamiliar with villains becoming stalwart heroes!

And Magnet wound up, mostly, on the heroes’ side during the first Secret Wars!

I just think that maybe with a little effort we could have avoided this assumption that the X-Men have joined Magneto when it’s more the other way around.

Maybe the Avengers wouldn’t have liked or trusted it since Magneto was kind of more villain-y than Hawkeye or the Maximoffs. But at least they’d know that Magneto is trying to do a good.

Anyway.

Black Knight is a little concerned about trying to take on the Beyonder with just four Avengers when they don’t know what they’ll find.

And this is excuse enough for Hercules to share a story about how cool Hercules is.

He tells the tale of slaying the mad giant Antaeus, who was invincible as long as he touched the earth. So Hercules held him off the ground and killed him.

The end.

The moral of the story is that they should totally kill the Beyonder.

Captain Marvel isn’t convinced of that and says that they should make rescuing Captain America their priority.

Meanwhile, back at the Beyonder’s pouting cave.

The Beyonder has evidently sulked himself out and is taking a nap.

Cap takes the opportunity to painfully wriggle out of his gloves and out of the bonds the Beyonder put him in. It loses him some skin off his hands in the process but thankfully the art doesn’t show that.

It totally would these days.

Now with Cap free, he ponders what to do next.

He can sneak up on the Beyonder and apply a pressure point to knock him the fuck out. And then realizes, oh crap, he really needs to do that.

Captain America, panic thoughts: “Good lord, I just realized... What if he dreams?! When Doctor Doom briefly possessed the Beyonder’s power, he had to constantly be on his guard to keep the power under control. If the Beyonder reacts as subconsciously as an ordinary man -- with his power... a dream might erase all of reality!”

Cap leaps at the Beyonder to knock him even more unconscious but the Beyonder was playing sleepy possum and catches Cap mid-leap.

And then he rants at how hurt his feelings are that Cap would try something.

Beyonder: “You are considered the ideal man -- the sound mind in the sound body, the peak of human perfection -- and yet, the first thing you did upon gaining freedom was attack me! You -- my own model for humanity -- have made me your enemy, just as everyone else has!”

I feel like he’s missing the nuance here of ‘the Avengers came to talk and he hit them with a tornado.’ And also ‘those who live in contemplating universal destruction houses shouldn’t throw stones’?

But the Beyonder’s angry tantrum is interrupted by Namor knocking on the outside of the mountain and asking if he can talk.

The Beyonder intangibles part of the mountain so Namor can come into the pout pad and Namor makes his case.

Namor: “I am an Avenger no longer, Beyonder. There is no future in siding with the surface-dwellers against you. I have come to ask your forgiveness... to make a personal peace. Like yourself, I have no great love for humanity. I have ever been a target of the surface world’s hatred.”

Gasp! Curse this sudden, yet inevitable, betrayal!

The Beyonder scans Namor’s mind and goes ‘heck ye you sure do have a lot of images in your brain about the surface world hating you.’

Beyonder takes Namor off to explain alllll his plans for the world.

And once he’s gone, Black Knight and Hercules respectively sword and punch their way into the mountain.

NAMOR WAS A RUSE ALL ALONG!

He suggested they use his known misanthropy to fool the Beyonder so the Avengers could save Cap!

What a stratagem!

Which doesn’t work at all!

The Beyonder shows back up with Namor in tow in a stasis field.

Beyonder: “Did you think I was unaware of your scheme? I sensed Captain Marvel’s energies the moment she penetrated the mountain -- and Namor’s mind was an open book to me! All that ridiculous subterfuge... just to free your Captain America? If he’s that important to you, you can have him!”

Then the Beyonder throws Namor at Captain America, bonking both of them free from their stasis fields.

Hercules has an objection to this.

Hercules: “Hear me, Beyonder! I am an immortal -- the son of Zeus -- but ne’er have I treated men with such callous disregard! You toy with the lives of mortals, but you are only a pretender to godhood!”

Beyonder: ‘You wot, mate?’

Despite already being in an omnicidal funk, Hercules smacktalking drives the Beyonder into a rage. And a tantrum.

He’s very mad that reading living in the Marvel comics universe didn’t give his life meaning. He’s in despair. The Marvel universe has driven him to utter despair.

Hey, that’s rough, bud.

Captain America: “Blast it, I should have foreseen this happening! If we can’t talk him out of his utter despair, all of existence is in jeopardy!”

Hoooooooow exactly would you have foreseen that?

Anyway, Captain Marvel tries stopping the Beyonder’s hurricane winds by striking him as lightning.

And it does stop the winds. Because the Beyonder absorbs Captain Marvel and then shoots her out as lightning at the Avengers.

Namor and Black Knight manage to dodge the lightning (wow thats really gonna mess with statting out Dane for some manner of death battle. Like most lightning dodging feats), and Cap blocks it with his shield which definitely does not conduct electricity.

In fact, only Hercules gets hit by the Monica lightning, leaving both him and her sprawled on the ground.

But this doesn’t dissuade Herc from smacktalking the Beyonder.

Hercules: “Hercules lives! And as long as I live, I will oppose thy madness!”

Beyonder: “THEN, YOU ARE A FOOL, GODLING!”

Then he grows huge and smooshes Hercules into the cave floor with his giant hand.

Because he’s in his pout period, the Beyonder complains that he thought the superheroes were better than the rest of humanity but they’re just as defiant.

Geez, its like he learned nothing from Secret Wars I. He should expect this from them. All they did on Battleworld was defiant at various things.

Since the superheroes made him both disappointed and angry, he declares that the superheroes will pay THE GREATEST PRICE OF ALL!

Captain America: “Beyonder, please! Listen to reason! People have been seeking enlightenment for thousands of years -- but not everyone’s concept of salvation is the same! You’ve been on Earth a very short time -- you can’t expect -- !”

Beyonder: ‘Hey, shut up’

And then he gets Cap stoned.

Just by saying that, I’ve probably caused a PSA comic about drugs starring Cap to spontaneously and retroactively exist.

I guess this is what Cap gets for missing out on getting stoned with the rest of the Avengers back in issue 4.

You’d think he would have gotten stoned when Beast was on the team. I remember when Black Knight did.

Anyway.

Beyonder starts tantruming again, causing the stones of the mountain to bounce at the Avengers.

The non-stone Avengers leap to defend themselves against the lowercase o onslaught.

Namor: “Let him unleash the moon and stars as well, I shall fight on to the last!”

Hercules: “As shall I, Avenger! As shall I!”

Aw, imminent death is these two’s get along shirt.

The Beyonder actually feels his shittiness wavering at his favorite thing, action figures banging into things.

Beyonder: “Even against impossible odds, you Avengers battle on! There is something almost... admirable about it! I almost wish... but no.”

And he suddenly decides he’s not having fun anymore, explodes the Avengers unconscious, and explodes Captain America into not being rocks anymore. That’s nice of him.

Beyonder: “Why waste time fighting a mere six when I can destroy all existence?!”

Iunno, man. You’re the one who did it.

Annnnnyway. Gonna have to look at more Secret Wars II next time I post East Coast Avengers. But for now, the Avengers explode and the universe is next?

Follow @essential-avengers because I read a Secret Wars II for you. Like and reblog this post if you’d like to reblog.

#essential avengers #avengers #where the hell is Wasp?#the Beyonder #Captain America #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Hercules #namor mckenzie #Black Knight #not as enjoyable as the previous Secret Wars II tie in #essential marvel liveblogging #Secret Wars II

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch56: Worthy

Intro: A few weeks post the Time Heist the team are finally ready to reverse the snap. The only problem is, when you mess with time it tends to mess back…

Warnings: “Language!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Another huge thanks to @angrybirdcr for her edits…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 55

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

October 2023

Katie walked over to the dresser in Nat’s room and smiled at the photos that stood on the shiny, dark wood surface. There were a few shots that stood in frames, one of Nat with Clint, Laura and the Kids, one of her, Katie and Pepper at Tony’s wedding, but it was the biggest one that she reached out to pick up. It was a photo that Katie had taken in her and Steve’s back garden a few months before on Jamie’s third birthday. Nat had Jamie balanced on her hip and Emmy to her other side, arm round the teens shoulder. She was smiling, happily at the camera, almost like she had no care in the world.

“Hey.” A soft voice spoke behind her and she turned to look at Steve, already dressed in his Captain America suit. “I’m not even gonna ask how you got in here.” “I already had access.” Katie shrugged, replacing the photo back down. “She had access to ours as well, although she never used it much, especially not after that time she walked in on us on the couch and got an eyeful of your ass going ten to the-“ “Yeah, yeah, I remember.” Steve snorted, leaning on the doorframe, the pink tinge spreading up his neck to his cheeks as he recalled the incident. They’d been going at it pretty furiously when Nat had walked in. There had been a lot of yelling, shrieks, giggles and one strategically placed throw cushion as he had stood up and reversed hastily to the bedroom out of view. “She told me she needed four bottles of bleach for her eyeballs.”

Katie sniggered before she sighed. “I miss her, Steve.”

“I know.” He said gently, walking into the room and she melted into his arms. “I wish I could tell you it goes away but it doesn’t. You just learn to live with it. I promise it will get easier though.” Katie smiled at his words. She knew full well what living with grief was like, they’d done it enough over the past five years but he wasn’t trying to be patronising, merely trying to lend her some comfort and she loved him for that.

“Given that Halloween isn’t for another two weeks I take it you’re dressed in your Spangles for a reason?” She pulled back and Steve nodded.

“We’re ready.” He gave her a significant look.

Katie let out a breath. They’d been working on the gauntlet now for the past few weeks. Thor, Rocket, Tony and Banner all spending hours at a time in the lab. Given that the Time and Soul stones were the only ones they had in their true gem form the first challenge get the others into the same state. For the most, all that meant was smashing open the various items they were contained within- namely the Tesseract, Sceptre and Orb. But even that had to be done in a controlled way so no stone was damaged or disturbed. Then, a slightly trickier task, they’d had to figure out how to solidify the Aether. Thor had been extremely nervous about this given his history with it and how it was able to “consume” people it decided to use as hosts. After days of brainstorming and various ideas they dismissed, Tony had come up with the idea of using the 3D printer to create a vessel, using a scan of one of the other stones.

“So, err…it’s time?” Steve nodded. “Everyone’s meeting in the lab.” He nodded to the photos on the side. “Time to make her sacrifice worthwhile.”

Katie followed his eye line and nodded. “Yeah,” she turned back to him, “I’ll go grab my suit.” He bent down to give her a soft peck on the lips and watched her go before he cast a cursory glance around the room. It was a little untidy, but that had been Nat all over. ‘Organised chaos’ she had described her nature as.

“You weren’t wrong, Widow.” Steve smiled gently, before he turned and shut the door behind him, striding back to the lab.

He arrived just in time to see Tony stood by the glass case housing the Gauntlet, his hand carefully manipulating the machines to cautiously place all six stones in their respective places within the glove.

“Boom!” Rocket let out a yell and both Tony and Bruce jumped a little. Tony turned to glare at the raccoon who was sniggering at his joke.

Steve rolled his eyes, he still wasn’t sure about the animal but he couldn’t deny he’d been useful, his knowledge filling in a lot of gaps they had.

“Asshole.” Tony grumbled as Steve crossed the room to pick up his helmet which was lying on a desk. Tony looked up at him. “You find Kiddo?” “Exactly where I thought she’d be.” Steve nodded. “She’s gone to suit up.” It wasn’t long before she returned with Clint and Scott. Scott was already in his Ant-Man suit, Clint in his Hawkeye get up and Katie in her leathers, the bangle that contained her Supernova suit gleaming on her wrist. Steve’s eyes travelled over everyone as they checked their various bits of equipment, and he took a deep breath, nervous excitement coursing through his veins.

Everything they had been through over the past five years and, more recently, the sacrifice their best friend had made all came down to this. A literal snap of the fingers.

Eventually, a silence fell over the room as everyone crowded round the gauntlet. A quick headcount told Steve they were one short, and he didn’t mean Natasha either. Nebula was absent but he assumed she was elsewhere at the request of Tony for some reason, maybe doing some checks in other areas. He was about to ask when Rocket spoke up.

“All right. The glove’s ready.” His arms folded across his chest. “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freaking fingers?”

“I’ll do it.” Thor spoke immediately and they all turned to face him, Lang speaking the words at the forefront of Steve’s mind.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s okay.” Thor nodded, heading towards the gauntlet where he was immediately met with a barrage of protests from around the room.

“No, no, no, whoa.”

“Stop. Stop.”

“Wait a sec. Hey, hey!”

“Wait, wait, Thor, just wait.” Steve shook his head gently, his arm reaching out to stop the God before he put his arm in the glove. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.”

“I’m sorry. What, we’re just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?” Thor snapped back.

“We should at least discuss it.” Katie nodded, trying to appease him.

“No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back.” Thor looked at her, shaking his head. “I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty.”

“It’s not about–“

“It’s not that– Stop it! Just let me!” Thor pleaded as he started to get teary eyed. Katie took a breath as she could almost feel the guilt that was radiating off him in waves. “Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right.”

“Look, it’s not just the fact that that glove is channelling enough energy to light up a continent, I’m telling you, you’re in no condition.” Tony shook his head.

“He’s right, Thor.” Katie looked at him. “Let’s just think about it, please?”

“What do you-“ Thor shook his head as he looked at Katie, his blue eyes then flicking to Tony “What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?”

Katie took a deep breath and crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at Steve who mimicked her action subconsciously, shaking his head slightly.

“Cheez Whiz?” Rhodey supplied from the side of the room. Thor pointed at him, shooting him a glare but all Rhodey did was shrug.

“Lightning.” He stated simply.

“Lightning won’t help you, pal.” Banner spoke softly, as everyone turned to look at him “It’s gotta be me.”

Katie glanced at Steve who was frowning a little, his attention completely on the large hulk of a man who gave a small shrug.

“You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive.” Banner’s eyes were focussed on the red gauntlet as he walked towards it.

“How do we know you will?” Steve questioned as Banner passed him by.

“We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma,” he stated, in a matter of fact way, his eyes still on the gauntlet, as he clearly contemplated. With a smile he turned to look at Katie, then Tony as he spoke again. “It’s like….uh…I was made for this.”

Katie’s head whipped round to look at Tony, before they both glanced back at Banner who smiled at them again, the siblings instantly understanding what he was referring to.

“You know, I’ve got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart.” Tony said, pointing at the Arc-Reactor in his chest as he walked towards Bruce “But this- this stops it. This little circle of light”

“Because that’s the same…” Katie said sarcastically rolling my eyes.

“The point is its part of me now, not just armor.” Tony ignored her as he stood opposite Banner, looking at him through you clear screen as lines of data swam across it. “It’s a… terrible privilege.

“But you can control it.” Bruce pointed out.

“Because I learned how”

“It’s different.” Bruce returned back to the computer screen but Tony slid the data aside with his fingers so the two could see face-to-face without interruption.

“Hey, I’ve read all about your accident. That much gamma exposure should have killed you.”

“That’s true…” Katie said, watching the exchange.

“So you’re saying that the Hulk…” he paused, smiling sadly as he correcting himself whilst Tony raised his eyebrows “The other guy saved my life?”

Katie looked at Tony. His eyes were flashing bright as Bruce looked back at him. Tony gave him a significant look.

“That’s nice, it’s a nice sentiment.” Bruce said as Tony moved back to his computer. “Saved it for what?”

Tony hesitated and looked up, “I guess we’ll find out.

And it seemed they just had.

Unlike Steve, Katie did believe in fate and destiny, certainly to an extent anyway. After everything she had seen and experienced over the past twelve years or so she couldn’t help but consider there was an element of truth in the fact that they were all pawns in a bigger game.

She glanced at Steve who was studying Banner, but made no move to stop him. He couldn’t argue with the man’s logic. So, as no one else protested, Tony moved to remove the gauntlet from the casing before he handed it to the Doctor.

“Good to go, yeah?” Tony asked.

Bruce nodded. “Let’s do it,”

“You remember. Everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago and just bring them back to now.” Tony reminded Bruce. “Don’t change anything from the last five years,”

Bruce nodded again. “Got it.”

“Good luck.” Katie encouraged before she twisted the star on her bangle causing her suit to flow over her body, Tony doing the same with his chest piece whilst Steve gripped his shield on his arm. Katie’s own shield beamed out of the suit and she held it in front of her, glancing to Steve where he stood to her left. He flashed her a small smile which she returned before her helmet slid round her head.

“FRIDAY do me a favour and activate Barn Door Protocol” Tony announced as he stepped in line with Clint, a shield springing from his suit. Thor stepped in front of Rocket whilst Rhodey and Scott also fully engaged their suits.

“Yes boss,” she replied and around them all the facility went into lock down as shutters closed over the doors, windows and roof.

Katie engaged her scanners, checking the heads up display which was monitoring the energy levels on the stones and she moved her feet slightly apart, adopting an almost identical stance to Steve, their defences raised in front of them.

Bruce looked at the gauntlet in his hand for a second. “Everybody comes home,” and with that he slid his fingers into the glove which nanobotically expanded to fit his hand. There was a sudden whoosh, and as they watched, the stones lit up in different colours, tendrils of bright light spreading up Bruce’s arm as their power surged up towards his shoulder and neck. He cried out in pain, almost falling and Katie watched worriedly as the man continued to shout and groan, his teeth grit together.

“Bruce?” She asked as Steve shifted besides her, his legs apart ready to dive in if he had to. Bruce then crashed down to his knees, his face contorted in pain.

“Take it off. Take it off!” Thor cried out, starting towards him.

“No, wait!” Steve urged, holding his hand up. They knew something like this was going to happen, they’d seen the mess left of Thanos’ arm. But they couldn’t quit, not now. “Bruce, are you okay?“

“Talk to me, Banner.” Tony demanded.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Bruce grit out through his teeth, giving a jerky nod as Thor gave him two thumbs.

After what felt like hours, Bruce slowly raised his arm. With a final grit of his teeth, he moved his fingers and everyone braced themselves. Steve moved himself in front of his wife with his shield raised, even though she was probably more protected than he was, such was his force of habit. With a loud yell, and a laboured effort, Bruce snapped his fingers. Steve’s shield raised automatically over his face in an attempt to shield himself and Katie form the blinding white light that pulsed out from the Gauntlet, filling the room.

But it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

Steve had to admit he had expected more, but his concern at the moment was Bruce who collapsed backwards to the floor and the gauntlet slid off his hand dropping to the tiles with a clang.

“Bruce!” He called, kneeling down beside him as Clint booted the gauntlet across the room away from them all.

“Don’t move him.” Tony instructed as he dropped to his knees besides Bruce who was gripping onto Steve’s arm with his left hand, blinking in pain. Tony opened his palm, spraying Bruce’s right arm with foam to cool him off.

“Did it work?” Bruce breathed out, blinking slightly.

Katie glanced around, her helmet retracting as she did so. “I don’t know.” As she continued to look around for a clue, anything that would indicate if they’d been successful, she spotted Scott walking towards the windows of the facility, the blinds sliding back as the lock down reversed.

“Worth a shot.” Thor sighed, clearly having already decided it hadn’t. He knelt down besides Banner “It’s okay…”

As Steve, Tony and Thor tended to Bruce, Katie continued to watch Scott who stood by the window, his mouth forming a little O of surprise. She squinted, wondering what it was he had seen, and then she spotted a few birds in the tree on the patio area. She swallowed slightly, whilst birds hadn’t been uncommon in the five years, they had certainly been down in numbers, and it was unusual for four of them at once to be in a tree that small.

She was then distracted by Clint who had given a sharp intake of breath and she spun to watch him as he picked up his phone from one of the desks with a shaking hand.

“Honey?” He croaked, and Katie watched as his face contorted into raw emotion, his words failing to form out of the sheer emotion he was clearly feeling. “Honey?”

There was only one person that could be, and if it was her then…

“Guys, I think it worked,” Scott spoke from his spot and Katie took a deep breath as her own tears threatened to overwhelm her. She locked eyes with Steve, who glanced up at her, his own eyes shining as he smiled.

“We did it.” Katie breathed out, looking round as she gave a watery laugh, wiping away her tears. “Son of a bitch, we actually-“

But she didn’t get chance to finish her sentence as suddenly there was a huge explosion, and the ground fell open beneath her.

*****

Smoke. Fire. Ash. Gushing Water.

That was all Katie could see, hear and feel. She was vaguely aware that FRIDAY was yelling something in her ear. As she shook her head slightly, she groaned, waiting for her senses to catch up with the rest of her.

Then, she heard Tony, and as she moved to get up, she realised she couldn’t. There was something crushing her into the ground, something ridiculously heavy which was pressing on her back. She tried to push herself up, but the weight was too much.

And then it was gone, and a strong arm was hoisting her to her feet.

“Little Stark?” Thor asked as Katie gave another groan, retracting her helmet. “Are you okay?”

“No serious injuries detected.” FRIDAY informed her, and she nodded to the God.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” She blinked, looking around as she tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened. “Where’s…”

“I take it that wasn’t the snap.” Tony mumbled, distracting her as she glanced down to her left as he blasted away a piece of concrete that had been pinning his legs down. He stood up, and the three of them took a moment to look around where they were stood in the ruins of the compound, before Thor gave a lowly growl and walked to the edge of the blown apart building, looking down into the huge crater.

“No, it was him.” He nodded. Katie and Tony both walked towards him, drawing up on either side, and Katie gave a sharp gasp as she saw Thanos in a distance, sat on a rock.

“Where’s Steve?” Katie’s brain suddenly remembered who it was she’d been looking for earlier, and she, glancing round furiously. She engaged her helmet again and FRIDAY scanned the piles of rubble but she needn’t have bothered, she spotted him almost immediately. She quickly moved towards him, kicking some more rubble and wreckage out of the way before she dropped gently to Steve’s side where he lay unconscious, FRIDAY informing her that his life signs were fine.

“Stevie?” She he said gently, shaking his shoulder. “Come on honey, wake up.” With a sharp intake of breath, Steve’s eyes flew open and Katie let out a sigh of relief, as she looked up to see Tony smiling, Steve’s shield on his arm.

“That’s my man.” Tony nodded, leaning down towards Steve who glanced up, his breathing evening out. “Lose this again,” Tony held out the shield, “I’m keeping it.”

Steve grimaced and turned to look at his wife. “You okay?” “Yeah.” She nodded, “turns out Tony’s suits are pretty good, who knew huh?” Tony scoffed as Steve blinked, getting his bearings, taking in the debris and rubble of the compound. “What happened?”

“You mess with time it tends to mess back,” Tony spoke gently, glancing at Katie sniffed a little, wiping at her nose, fear flickering across her face. “You’ll see.”

“Thanos?” Steve swallowed, and Katie nodded. Steve exhaled again as Tony helped him to his feet and the three of them walked over to Thor, who was stood exactly where Katie and Tony had left him earlier.

“What’s he been doing?” Tony asked, standing to Thor’s left as Katie stood to the God’s right in between him and her husband as the four of them glanced down at the Titan.

“Absolutely nothing.” Thor’s voice was low.

Steve had no idea how the Titan was there, but he didn’t really give a shit either. There was one thing they had to do, and that was all that mattered.

“Where are the stones?” He asked.

“Somewhere under all this,” Katie gestured to pile of ruins under their feet. “All we know is that he doesn’t have them.”

“So we keep it that way.” Steve spoke simply, steely determination lacing his voice, his eyes not moving from the Titan.

“You know this is a trap, right?” Thor asked, his gaze also locked on the large warrior.

“Yeah. I don’t much, care.” Tony replied with a shrug.

“Good. Just as long as we’re all in agreement.” Thor nodded, and with that there was a large crack of thunder. Bright beams and shards of lightning surround the God as he stretched out both his hands to summon Stormbreaker and Mjolnir. His casual clothes transformed into his armour and cape, his beard flowing into a braid, giving him a distinctive Viking Warrior look as his eyes glowed bright white, every inch of his face lined with fury.

“Good to have you back, Thunder God.” Katie smiled at him as he took a deep breath, the lightning dying down as he looked over her shoulder at Steve, who nodded at him.

“Let’s kill him properly this time.” Thor’s voice was a low growl as he jumped off the edge of the ruins they were stood on, landing with a loud crash on the ground. Katie moved to one side of Steve, wrapping her arm around his as Tony did the same, the three of them flying forward and landing with a little more grace than Thor had done.

Once more the four of them exchanged looks before the started to walk cautiously towards Thanos, but Katie stopped as Steve pulled on her arm.

“You need to promise me.” He looked at her as her. “If this starts to go sideways…” “I think we’re a bit past that.” She breathed out and Steve shook his head, looking down.

“Baby, the kids. I need you to promise me that if it looks like, well, you need to go back for them.” “Steve.” Katie took a shaky breath, her eyes filling with tears. “There’s no point making me promise anything like that, because if we don’t get rid of him, then there might not be anything to go back for.”

Her words hit him harder than any punch could, and Steve felt his chest contract, painfully. He tore his eyes off her which were now full of tears as he looked up at Tony and Thor who continued to advance ahead of them, his hand running down his face.

She was right and whilst he wanted her as far away as possible, with their kids, safe, he knew it was futile because nothing was safe now. He could send her away, get her out of the fight, but if they failed then she was as good as dead anyway, they all were.

Because Steve didn’t believe for a second that Thanos would make the mistake of leaving who died this time round down to chance.

“If we go, we go.” Katie’s voice ripped him from his thoughts as he turned back to her, the tears in her eyes dancing with the flames that reflected from the various fires dotted around. “We have to try or they don’t stand a chance. Whatever it takes.”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to reply. Instead he gave her a curt nod and the two of them strode forward to confront the man who had haunted their dreams for the past five years.

“You could not live with your own failure,” Thanos spoke for the first time as they drew closer. “Where did that bring you? Back to me. I thought by eliminating half of life the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me that’s impossible.”

The four of them split up, as they began to surround Thanos, circling him, whilst he spoke.

“As long as there are those that remembered what was, there are always those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”

“Yeah, we’re all kinds of stubborn.” Tony continued his pacing to stand behind the Titan.

“I’m thankful, because now I know what I must do,” Thanos stood up, “I will shred this universe down to its last atom.” He reached for his helmet which had been propped up on the edge of his double edged blade where it was stuck into the ground in front of him. “And then with the stones that you’ve collected for me,” he placed the helmet on top of his head, “I’ll create a new one, teeming with life,” he pulled his weapon from the ground, twirling it in his large hand, “that knows not what is lost, only what has been given,”

There was a rush and a flash as the lighting flew round Thor’s axe and hammer, his eyes flashing as he stood to Thanos’ left, Katie now to his right.

“A grateful universe.” Thanos concluded.

“Born out of blood,” Steve glared up at the man, anger lancing through every cell in his body.

“They’ll never know it,” Thanos cocked his head to the right, “because you won’t be alive to tell them.”

At that, having heard enough, Thor gave a loud cry as he surged forward, beginning the fight. Tony and Katie both launched into the air and Steve threw himself in, shield first, as the four of them began to work in tandem.

Lightning flashed, shots fired, metal clanged on metal as they all deployed their various weapons. It was brutal, hard, just as Steve had remembered from Wakanda, only this time they were engaged directly with the Titan, and it was fast becoming apparent that this Thanos was equally as vicious an opponent than his future self had been.

“Okay, Thor. Hit me.” Tony’s voice rang over Steve’s comms as Katie flew up out of the way of the Titan’s sword as he swung it at her, deflecting the shot she’d taken at him from her repulsors.

As Steve launched his shield again, Thor banged his axe and hammer together, charging Tony’s suit with lightening. Tony then shot the extra energy out using his hands and body, Katie joining him as she hovered off to the left. Thanos twirled his blade in front of him, diverting the energy and Steve gave a yell as it rebounded back to Katie, her suit taking a full shot causing her to fly off to the side, colliding harshly with a huge piece of the compound structure, falling to the floor.

With a roar of rage, Thor grabbed Stormbreaker and used it to bat his hammer to hit Thanos, who used Tony as a shield, casting the man aside where he too landed harshly, remaining motionless on the ground.

Steve launched forward but was flung away, landing and taking a heavy thump to the head. With a groan, he blinked away the spots of light that had formed in front of his eyes from the impact of the blow, and glanced around, giving a sigh of relieve as he saw Katie was pushing herself up on her hands, rising to all fours. With the ringing still in his ears, he then saw Thanos pounding down on Thor, Tony still motionless in the background.

With a loud grunt, Steve ground his teeth together in stubborn determination and reached out to push himself up, but he paused when a sudden shock of warmth vibrated up his arm. He instantly glanced down at his hand and realised he’d flattened his palm against Thor’s hammer, not the ground. He frowned for a moment, as the vibrations continued. It felt like the throb of his motorbike engine, a warm purr. The last time he had tried to move, sure, it had given a little, but he hadn’t felt anything like that…

Could he? Was it possible?

With an automatic movement, one that seemed completely out of his control, Steve rose to his feet and reached out, gripping the handle. He sucked in a breath and as he pulled up his arm, the hammer came with him.

**** With a groan, Katie blinked, shaking off the daze that had descended over her thanks to the heavy blow she’d taken from Tony’s deflected fire. She looked around, the ringing loud in her ears as she saw Thanos flip Thor to the floor, pressing him back up against a rock. Thor reached for his axe, and as the pair of them grappled, Thanos gained the upper hand and began to attempt to push Stombreaker through Thor’s chest.

Immediately, Katie took off and began to fly towards Thor, raising her palms to shoot a beam at Thanos, but as she neared something whizzed straight across her path and she stopped dead in the air, her sight focussed on Mjolnir as it soared towards Thanos, where it whacked him harshly in the side of the head, sending him flying away. It carried on for a while before it stopped, and boomeranged back right round but it didn’t stop at Thor.

Instead it continued, and Katie felt her mouth drop open as she followed it with her eyes as it flew into Steve’s waiting hand, his fingers curling round the handle as he caught it.

“Holy shit…” She spluttered at the same time as Thor breathed a little smugly into the comms.

“I knew it!”

Steve was wielding the hammer. Steve Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn that was too dumb to run away from a fight was worthy.

But then, as Katie watched him turn to look at Thanos, hammer in hand, that determined expression on his face as he sized up his opponent, she realised there was no one else more worthy than the man who had done nothing but continually put his life on the line for others.

Thanos kicked Thor harshly in the chest sending him straight through the rock he was up against and then Steve proceeded to charge at Thanos, swinging Mjolnir. He caught Thanos perfectly on the chin with an upper cut from the hammer, which sent him flying through the air, where he landed, and jumped up.

Katie took off towards the two, as Steve launched his shield, but Thanos deflected it easily. As it swung back towards him, Steve threw the hammer straight at it, creating a shockwave which knocked Thanos back off his feet.

Then, the Captain went completely on the offensive, shield and hammer flying through the air again and again before he lined his arm back up and summonsed the lighting. Shooting a shock at Thanos he blasted the Titan off his feet before Katie landed in front of him giving a yell. Just as Thor had done before to Tony, he charged up her suit and she powered everything she had into the Titan as he lay on the floor.

Steve drew to her side as she unloaded, but before she could say or do anything else Thanos’ sword flew back at her and she dodged out of the way, but wasn’t quite quick enough. It hit her hard in the chest and sent her skidding backwards against the floor where she collided with a metal pipe.

Thanos advanced on Steve, menacingly swinging his weapon and, one on one, Steve was no match for him. He lost the hammer and, after receiving a nasty stab to the leg and gash to his arm, he could do nothing but hold his shield up to deflect the blow that was coming his way.

Only it didn’t. Thanos’ double edged weapon sank straight into the Vibranium like it was butter.

Steve looked at it in shock and horror, never once had anything ever penetrated the metal, but he didn’t have chance to think about it as the blows continued. Pieces of his shield were shearing away left, right and centre and then Thanos picked him up by the front of his suit and tossed him aside like he was a rag doll.

He landed harshly a few feet away from Katie and rolled onto his back, his eyes closing and his chest heaving with exertion. He gave a little gulp, a low gasp that was almost a cry flew from his mouth as he felt sheer desperation flood his system, the faces of his kids and his wife flashing through his mind.

Steve Rogers might be worthy, but he was beat.

**** Chapter 57

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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thepartyresponsible · 5 years

Text

this fill is for verdantmoth, who asked for winterhawk. so here’s an alternate timeline where clint goes awol after the battle of new york, and, eventually, he and bucky end up working for the same circus.

Bucky falls in with the circus when it tours through Bucharest. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. They need manual labor and dependable security, someone intimidating enough to scare off troublemakers but not likely to cause trouble himself. And Bucky needs to move and keep moving, needs to eat, needs to sleep.

It’s still cold, so nobody asks any questions about his long sleeves and gloves. Nobody asks any questions at all, really. Except the archer.

As far as Bucky can clock, the archer is the only American traveling with the circus. He’s tall and blonde and muscular and handsome, has spiderwebs of old scars across his knuckles and elbows, lightning-forks of long-healed knife wounds across the blades of his forearms. He speaks Spanish like he learned it in public school, French like he learned it in Louisiana, Russian like he learned it in prison, and English like he’s fresh from Midwestern farmland, like sometimes he likes vowels so much he can’t quite let them go.

His name’s Clint. He gives a different last name every time someone asks.

“And what did you say your name was?” Clint asks, early on, with a half-smile like he knows damn well Bucky never gave one.

“James,” he says, because that’s what he read off the plaque at the museum before he caught a freighter heading east out of Boston.

“Uh-huh,” Clint says. His smile grows roots and blooms, and there’s no aggression in his eyes, but there’s a watchfulness, a weighing-up. “Your parents give you a last name, James?”

“Rogers,” Bucky says, because he figures last names are about families, and Steve Rogers is the only thing that makes him feel homesick.

“Got it,” Clint says. But he doesn’t sound like he believes it.

Clint isn’t in his way very often. He just checks in, from time to time. He must be watching Bucky more than he’s letting Bucky see, because he tends to materialize on particularly bad nights. He brings beer or sometimes whiskey, cigarettes to share. One time, he brings a bottle of clear alcohol in an old jelly jar, and it’s so potent that it almost – almost – has an effect.

“You should be careful with that,” Bucky says, when the bottle’s half gone. Every time he sips, his lips go numb and then sting for a handful of heartbeats. He can’t imagine what it’s doing to Clint, who, despite his perfect aim and perfect arms, doesn’t seem to be enhanced.

“Oh, careful,” Clint says. He half-hums, half-sighs the second syllable of the word, flat on his back on top of his trailer and staring up at the stars.

It’s a strange thing, the night sky. Sometimes, when Bucky looks up, he gets flashes of being here before. Europe was different then. The geography, the buildings. The people. The stars were brighter, he thinks. When they weren’t cloaked over with smoke and ash.

“No fucking use being careful, James,” Clint says. He’s smiling when he says it, but it’s not one of the smiles Bucky likes.

“Plenty of use,” Bucky says. He picks the jelly jar up and relocates it to the other side of his hip. If Clint wants it back, he’ll have to crawl over Bucky to get it. And, as far as Bucky can tell, they haven’t progressed quite that far yet.

“You’re careful,” Clint says, more like a confession than an accusation, “and you’re good, and you work real fucking hard. You try to do things right. And you know what fucking happens?”

What happens is you fall off a train in the Swiss Alps, and HYDRA cuts your mangled arm off with no anesthetic, and they set your brain on fire over and over again until the ashes fall in an arrangement they can use.

“No,” Bucky says. “What happens?”

Clint breathes out, slow and even. Controlled. “You ever fuck up so bad you can’t let people look at you anymore?”

Bucky closes his eyes, and it’s like a lightshow on his eyelids. Faces of all the people he’s killed. We’re building a better world.

Sometimes, he has nightmares. And it should be the things he’s done. It should be all the blood, the kill shots into civilians, the families he’s put down. But it never is. The thing that scares him the most is Steve Rogers, reaching for him. Steve Rogers, with his own blood on his face. Cuz I’m with you til the end of the line.

Sometimes he dreams that Steve finds him, and it scares him so fucking bad he has to go on half-mile, one-mile, two-mile, and five-mile perimeter checks, circling broader and broader and then back in. Can’t sleep for shit after, has to work into the red-gray of exhaustion just to make himself stand down.

Someday, Steve Rogers is going to find him, and he’s going to call him Bucky Barnes, and Bucky doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to do.

He can’t fit back into that skin. They cut him out of it. There’s not enough left to stitch shut.

He can live with being a monster, just so long as nobody knows he used to be a man.

“You don’t like when people look at you?” Bucky asks, because he’s been learning about tightrope walking since he joined up, and what he’s learned is that you don’t look down, don’t think about the rope until you have to.

“Well.” Clint props himself up on his elbows, looks over, and grins, crooked and inviting. If there are ghosts at the backs of his eyes, Bucky chooses not to see them. “I don’t mind when you look.”

Bucky likes watching Clint shoot. He doesn’t go to the shows, because he can’t tolerate the noise of them, the crowd, all the variables he’d need to track to feel safe in a place like that. But nobody cares what he does for long portions of the day, so he finds himself watching Clint practice, sometimes.

He never startles him, and he never tries too. But he doesn’t make a big production about showing up to sit in the grass of whatever field Clint’s found and watch as he nails bullseye after bullseye.

“You ever wanna try, James,” Clint says, once, “just let me know.”

But Bucky isn’t interested in a bow, doesn’t want anything like a weapon in his hands. And he doesn’t break that habit until a bar outside Bratislava, when he’s antsy, feeling exposed, and wishing he hadn’t let Clint’s blue eyes drag him out from the comfortable, anonymous trailer he shares with two hulking Russians who never speak to him beyond asking, politely, what groceries he would like them to pick up.

“They want you, too,” Clint says, half-drunk and animated, gesturing over his shoulder to a pair of locals he’s befriended.

Bucky must make some kind of face, because Clint immediately laughs. “To play,” he says. “Jesus, James. They wanna play doubles. Darts, not a foursome. I wouldn’t just barter you off like that. Not for two beers, come on.”

And he seems happy. Loose-limbed, even-keeled. There’s a misery that comes over him, sometimes, but it’s not here now. And Bucky doesn’t want to ruin that for him. Clint, whatever his secrets, whatever it is he thinks he’s done, is sweet and good-natured and patient with children and stray animals. Good, in all the ways Bucky thinks he used to be, too.

He’s nice. And Bucky isn’t, but Clint makes him want to remember how.

The darts feel like nothing in his hand. Lightweight, not dangerous. He could take out an eye with one, but the tips are so blunted that he’s not sure he could make a killshot. Maybe if he used his left.

Probably if he used his left.

He uses his right. Clint, who’s a showoff even when he isn’t drunk, alternates between hands. They outpace the Slovakians so bad that they laugh off the idea of a rematch, and Clint tightens his hand around Bucky’s wrist and tugs him out into the alley behind the bar.

It’s not that Clint’s mouth on his is a surprise, exactly. But there’s a difference in logically knowing something is likely to happen and actually facing the reality of its arrival. It’s surprising the way Christmas is surprising, like homecoming after long travel or recovery after weeks of illness.

Sometimes hoping for a thing makes it feel impossible.

But Clint’s mouth is insistent, soft and playful. Confident. He tastes like cheap beer, and his hands curl around Bucky’s hips like they’re staking some kind of claim.

“Goddamn, James,” Clint says, mouthing his way down to Bucky’s neck. “You’re a fucking sniper, huh? Been holding out. You never said.”

Something happens at the word sniper. Bucky’s here, and he’s on a ridge, with a rifle, watching Steve give away his position by saluting right the hell at him. Because of course he did. Because Steve plays soldier, but he hasn’t lost one. Not yet.

“Hey,” Clint says. His lips move against the skin of Bucky’s throat, and Bucky flinches, backpedals straight into the brick wall behind him, and he’s not trapped, not in any danger, but numbers rise up in his throat, a serial number that wants out, and he’s too busy swallowing the whole mess of it back down to tell Clint that it’s okay, that he’s fine, that it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just his useless fucking brain misfiring.

“Hey,” Clint says, again. “Are you--”

His hand curls comfortingly around Bucky’s shoulder, but he’s touching the metal arm. He probably can’t feel the cold of it through the thick fabric of Bucky’s jacket, not the way Bucky can feel it every morning, as the metal leeches warmth from his skin, but Clint’s smart, and observant, and it’s only so long before he figures out there’s something wrong about him.

“I gotta,” Bucky says, accent swerving way too far into Brooklyn. “I need to go,” he says, and that’s not even in English. That’s Russian. He’s so far gone that he’s speaking Russian. To Clint. Jesus.

“Okay,” Clint says, hands up, moving back. “That’s fine, James. I’ll just settle up inside, and then we’ll--”

But Bucky’s going to have to pay him back, because he can’t stay. He can’t. He shifts past him, jarring him with his shoulder because his depth perception’s fucked, and then he’s up the alley and gone.

He doesn’t watch Clint shoot anymore. And when Clint tries to find him, Bucky finds ways to make that difficult until, after a week or so, Clint stops trying.

HYDRA tracks him down outside of Vilnius, and Bucky isn’t ready for them. He has a knife at his side and a knife at his back, but his guns are in his trailer, in a locked trunk. The children of the circus are nosy, and friendly, and fond of him; he’d wanted to keep the guns as far from them as possible.

“Soldat,” one of them says. His accent is American. He’s only using Russian now to make it clear he knows the words that’ll rewrite Bucky’s brain. “It’s time to come in for recalibration.”

There are times, even now, when Bucky wants that. He isn’t getting better in a linear fashion. It’s a scattershot, a splatter pattern. Somedays he wakes up, and all he wants is a mission. It was easier then.

But he knows what manner of mission they would give him. And beyond that, he remembers the chair. Steve Rogers may have walked willingly into the machine that unmade him, but he only had to do it once. Bucky’s not sure even Steve’s bravery would’ve held out the tenth time, the fiftieth.

“No,” he says, because he might as well, while he has the chance. While his mouth still belongs to him, he might as well use it.

“Soldat,” the man says, again. And there’s an expression on his face like he’s disappointed, but his eyes are eager, and laughing.

“Gentlemen,” Clint says. He’s beyond the circle of HYDRA agents, fifteen feet back, with his bow in his hands. “Show’s not for another four hours, and he’s not part of it anyway. Time to move on.”

“He’s an old friend,” the leader says. “We’re taking him home.”

“You’re taking him nowhere,” Clint says. Casual, bored, and vaguely annoyed. Like he’s caught someone slipping into the tent without tickets.

“And you’re going to stop us?” the man asks. He’s half-laughing, and it’s well-earned. Clint’s in old sweatpants and a purple hoodie; his hair’s tufted up on one side like he was asleep ten minutes ago. “With your bow and your blunted arrows? I’m not afraid of bruises. Why don’t you--”

The arrow sprouts from his eye like a sapling. Burrows straight through into his skull. He jerks and topples over, dies on the fall down.

“That one was blunted,” Clint says, with that same irritated tone. “The rest aren’t. Got a few that blow up, too. You guys wanna see ‘em?”

There’s a single moment of stillness. The tense bit of pause between realization and reaction. Bucky takes out his knives, and the Winter Soldier goes to work.

They don’t really speak until after they get a motel room in Bialystok. Clint arranges it, chatting in Polish to the desk clerk. He sounds like a native speaker, and Bucky stands there with his bag on his back and reflects on the fact that Clint’s accent was always a choice.

“Look,” Clint says, once they’re in the room. There’s one bed, but Bucky doesn’t think the plan is to sleep. The plan, probably, is to split up. To create a record of them checking in here and then rabbit off in separate directions. Bucky thinks maybe he’ll backtrack into Lithuania or dash down south to Ukraine, maybe catch a flight and leapfrog anywhere.

“We are in,” Clint continues, “kind of a complicated situation.”

“Not that complicated,” Bucky says. “You should head west. I’ll go east.”

Clint’s eyebrows snap together. “I blew my cover all to hell for you,” he says. “We’re not splitting up now, Barnes.”

And Bucky never, ever gave Clint that name.

“Hey,” Clint says. “Hey, fuck you, don’t look at me like that. I’m not a threat to you. I’m just not a Goddamn idiot. James Rogers, are you kidding?”

Bucky saw Clint fight. They left seven men dead, and most of those were Clint’s kills. But in close quarters, Bucky’s better. And in every arena, he’s hardier.

“I don’t blame you,” Clint says, which doesn’t make sense. “For fucking off. I did it, too. But if HYDRA can find you, SHIELD can find you. And if either gets close, Tony Stark’s gonna know about it. If Stark knows, Steve knows, and--- just listen. Jesus.”

Bucky can’t help the way he flinches. Steve’s face, bloodied up. Steve, reaching out, because Bucky wears the face of a dead man, and Steve thinks there’s something left to grab onto.

“We have to go back,” Clint says. He sounds tired. He looks tired. “We were always gonna have to. Better to go than be dragged, Barnes.”

“You,” Bucky says, and then stops. Thinks it through. He knows all of Steve’s Avengers, but there was one who went missing after New York. Hawkeye. HYDRA had marked him down as dead; SHIELD had him as MIA, presumed KIA.

He was blonde, and muscular, and deadly with a bow.

“Hawkeye?” he asks. “You’re dead.”

Clint grimaces at the name and then smiles. “Well, look at that,” he says. “Guess it’s prophecy, right? ‘One fine morning in the middle of the night, two dead men got up to fight.’”

Bucky blinks at him. “Is that what we’re gonna do?” Bucky has a bag of weapons on his back, and he doesn’t want to use any of them. He can feel the blood of the dead HYDRA agents on his hands, hot and slippery, damning. “We’re gonna fight?”

Clint shrugs. When he smiles, his mouth is aw-shucks, but his eyes are aw, hell. “Well,” he says. “Not each other, I hope.”

Bucky thinks, of all things, about the feel of Clint’s mouth against his, the warmth of him, the way he used to look over at Bucky like he was something worth earning instead of something he deserved to keep.

It’s only after he realizes he doesn’t want to fight Clint that his brain starts working on how he’d do it, if he had to. It’s been years and years since he prioritized an emotional reaction over a practical one.

“No,” Bucky says. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” Clint says. “Me either.”

It sounds so easy when Clint says it. Like that’s a choice he thinks they get to make. But Bucky will hurt anyone he’s aimed at.

“I can’t,” he says. “I’m not--- I’ll do whatever they tell me to do. I’m not safe. I don’t always have control. I kill good people.”

Clint’s smile hooks up wide, but it’s the ugliest one Bucky’s seen yet. Cutting like scalpel. Crooked and hateful and sad. “Well, hell, Barnes,” he says, “we’re a pair. It’s like we were made for each other.”

The way Clint says it makes it sound like a sentencing, but it bounces back and forth between Bucky’s ribs like a promise.

He doesn’t know what Clint did. He doesn’t even know everything he’s done himself. But he thinks, if they were made for each other, that’s better than being made for no one at all.

But, still. He has to say it. He can’t let good things happen just because they’re easy. “If I hurt you--”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Clint says, jaw tightening. “It’s never me that gets hurt.”

And Bucky figures that’s not true. But he understands. It’s the same for him. He does get hurt. HYDRA used to hurt him all the time. But he hurt other people worse, so, in the scale of things, what happened to him doesn’t matter. After all, he lived through it.

“HYDRA’s gonna come looking for me,” he says. It’s a warning, the last one he has.

Clint shrugs it aside like it’s nothing. “Good. That’ll make them easy to find.”

“I’m not worth all this,” he says. And that’s not a warning. It’s a confession.

“Me either,” Clint says, with a smile. “Like I said, Barnes. We’re a pair.”

Maybe they are, and maybe they aren’t. Maybe they’re just going to get each other killed. But Bucky has nightmares about Steve, because he’s not ready for Steve to see what he’s become. Clint’s had a good long look at what Bucky is now, and he doesn’t know enough to be disappointed or disgusted.

A pair of killers, a pair of failures. A pair of people who kill people better than themselves.

Bucky doesn’t know what he deserves, after everything he’s done. But Clint, at least, deserves not to be alone.

“Okay,” he says. He doesn’t know how the hell he’d even begin to say no, when Clint’s looking at him like he’s the last chance he’s got. “Okay, yeah,” he says. “We’ll stick together.”

Maybe, this time, they’ll get to stay that way.

#writing #fic #fill #winterhawk

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 4 years

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Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along.

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this.

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES: The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them.

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT.

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess.

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.)

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them.

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies.

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks.

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth.

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there...

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely.

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows.

*screams into the void*

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision.

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead.

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.

*screams into the void again*

#SG post #future state #future state superwoman #comic rant #and oh it is a RANT

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bulkyphrase · 3 years

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Everybody & the Avengers Team

I've got a new fic rec list for you!

The stories in the "X & the Avengers Team" tags focus on one person's relationship to the Avengers team as a whole. Courtesy of AO3's tag browse and Excel, here's a ranked list of the top 20 most popular pairings:

Tony Stark | 2470 total, 240 OTP

Peter Parker | 2255 total, 85 OTP

Steve Rogers | 602 total, 56 OTP

Loki | 387 total, 26 OTP

Natasha Romanov | 308 total, 35 OTP

Clint Barton | 268 total, 46 OTP

Bruce Banner | 244 total, 15 OTP

Thor | 209 total, 7 OTP

Avengers Team | 174 total, 24 OTP

James "Bucky" Barnes | 156 total, 7 OTP

Wanda Maximoff | 143 total, 4 OTP

Phil Coulson | 105 total, 9 OTP

Darcy Lewis | 91 total, 6 OTP

Matt Murdock | 60 total, 8 OTP

Sam Wilson | 53 total, 5 OTP

Nick Fury | 41 total, 5 OTP

Harry Potter | 40 total, 0 OTP

Pepper Potts | 31 total, 1 OTP

Vision | 29 total, 2 OTP

Stiles Stilinski | 25 total, 0 OTP

In chart form, if you like charts:

Notes:

The numbers after the names are the number of stories tagged with that ship. OTP means the number of stories where that is the only relationship tagged on the story. Numbers are accurate as of July 2021.

Story Recommendations

For your reading pleasure, included below is at least one fic rec for each pairing except the crossovers from non-Marvel fandoms (apologies to Mr. Potter & Mr. Stilinski). Most are gen fic, and even in the ones with a romantic pairing, romance is not the focus.

Tony Stark

As Subtle As Cognitive Recalibration by petroltogo (Teen, 8949) tumblr: @tonystarktogo

Standing inside his penthouse, listening to Rogers, Barton and Banner explain to Fury how they just happened to stumble over the Tesseract on a routine security check of Stark Tower’s roof and wouldn’t you know, they’ve managed to fight off the looming alien invasion before it could really start and secure the missing overpowered nightlight is one of the most surreal situations Tony has ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

Peter Parker

the worst field trip ever by shrill_fangirl_screaming (Teen, 3420) tumblr: @i-am-having-an-emotion

"We're on a field trip," Peter said. "To here. And Tony decided to be our tour guide and absolutely embarrass me, so can you please help get him under control?"

Which is how Peter Parker, architect of his own destruction, ended up with not one but two superhero pseudo-dads being annoying on his school field trip.

Steve Rogers

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't) by GalaxyThreads (Teen, 11022) tumblr: @galaxythreads

That seems about right. He doesn't know how he knows that, though. He does have vague memories of an annoyed fondness at finding peanut butter in some sort of jam. Thor's doing, because he doesn't see the point of using two knives when one works just as fine. He knows that. How does he know that? He knows all those little details, though, almost innately. How can he know these strangers so deeply?

Everyone else below the cut!

Loki

Proprietary by TheThirdMarauder (Teen, 7639)

No, Loki simply wants the Avengers conquered. The details of whom, how, and when matter not. Unless, of course, said details interfere with Loki's plans. Then, well, then none can fault him for protecting his own interests.

Loki has always been exceptionally good at lying to himself.

Natasha Romanov

What Girls Are Made Of by enigma731 (Teen, 4613) tumblr: @enigma731

She rolls her eyes but does as he’s indicated, using his shoulders to leverage herself up onto his back, her arms around his neck and her legs hugging his waist.

“You know,” he says blithely, “this isn’t really what I tend to picture when I think of a hot girl riding me.”

Natasha groans, deciding that if his sense of humor gets them arrested, she’ll kill him herself. “Just go.”

Clint Barton

Dear Clint Barton (circa age 7) by pollyrepeat (Teen, 4221)

With a normal person, this might count as blackmail material, but a) this is a case of mutually assured destruction if ever there was one, and b) Fury is immune to embarrassment. Not just in the regular, Tony Stark way, either, oh no. Things that could possibly end up being embarrassing to Fury get somehow warped and changed until they go from mortifying all the way over into useful and/or good for his image. It’s like a superpower.

Carrying Clint’s small child self around on his shoulders more than once has probably already hit the interagency rumour mill as an example of Fury’s innate awesomeness: good with rocket launchers and small children.

Also available as a podfic!

Bruce Banner

They're Not Wrong by Trumpeteer34 (Teen, 10163)

As Tony began to pace around the hole in the road to keep himself from shooting repulsors at the nearby buildings in a fit of rage, Thor began to study the nearby area. There was no sign of either the Hulk or Bruce Banner beyond the crater. The surrounding area, aside from the rubble of the fight, held no clue as to their friend’s location.

“Guys, he’s gone,” Tony growled into the communicator on their private line, drawing Thor out of his darkening thoughts. “Someone tranqed him and took him. He’s gone.”

Honorary mention goes to the Responsible Science series by @letteredlettered - the stories don’t have the "Avengers Team & Bruce Banner" tag, but they could, and they are amazing. The best Bruce Banner writing I've ever come across.

Thor

Fortunately, I Am Mighty by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 3062)

Steve was the first one to speak. “Are you okay?”

Thor nodded. Which was a bad idea, as it turned out, because now there were little gray lights flashing in front of his eyes. “I’m fine.” Absolutely everyone narrowed their eyes, and he added, “But, uh. Could we possibly not get back in the car just yet?”

Avengers Team

Civil Wasn't by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 7123)

"We're having an ideological conflict here," Tony stated with disbelief. "Are you telling me you still want to go out to dinner?"

"It's a standing engagement, Tony," Rhodey reminded him.

"Not you too—"

"We already had to reschedule from Friday when Natasha was..." Rhodey frowned. "What were you doing?"

The question was directed toward Natasha, who shrugged and said, "Spy stuff."

James "Bucky" Barnes

You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter (Not Rated, 4511) tumblr: @ifeelbetterer

“As you may have heard, Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. The Winter Soldier, recently rescued a tiny part-robot dinosaur during the Avengers’ battle with Dr. Doom in Antarctica,” the other newscaster explained. “Pictures of Barnes and the dinosaur were posted on twitter by fellow Avenger, Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, and immediately made Barnes’s new pet America’s sweetheart.”

“Her name’s Muffy,” said Steve."

Wanda Maximoff

and the woman was young again by Mira_Jade (General, 3669)

Tony Stark called them the Cap's Kooky Quintet, and sometimes the term amused her – causing her to lift a sardonic brow where someday a smile would truly smile. She enjoyed the presence of comrades – true comrades – and she enjoyed the way their minds wove and bound together about each other to fluctuate against her senses as one. There was something soothing about being in their midst, and even when their loud and brash ways – their painful Americaness - rubbed her raw and drained on her, it was ever the knitting of their minds that soothed those moments over, and made them inconsequential.

Phil Coulson

Coulson's First Day of School by storiesfortravellers (Teen, 3055)

Coulson looked up at him. “I like drawing pictures with Mr. Rogers. I like having tea parties with Ms. Potts. I like it when Dr. Banner reads me books, and I like it when Natasha teaches me things. And I like when you play with me. You do really good voices when we play action figures. And you’re the only one who lets me do stuff like jump off the high diving board at the pool or eat three cupcakes or play tackle with kids at the park.”

Clint didn’t realize that. He was pretty sure that meant that he was doing something wrong.

Darcy Lewis

Beginner Yoga for Dummies (Darcys) and Sad Hobos by chailover (Teen, 3434)

Darcy had a theory: crazy attracted crazy, working kind of like gravity. It was pretty much her explanation for her life after Thor. And if she had thought the type of crazy Thor attracted was bad, be it Loki or the Warrior Three and Sif, or the dark elves and the Convergence, it was still nothing against what the Avengers manage en masse.

Matt Murdock

Double Blind by smilebackwards (Teen, 2381) tumblr: @smilebackwards

Stark snaps his fingers. “You can’t see half of my inventions. This explains so much about you and why you’ve never been properly impressed by me.”

“Does it?” Matt says, ambiguously.

Sam Wilson

Bystander by scribblemetimbers (Teen, 52029)

“I just want you to know,” Sam says loudly, cautiously raising his hands, “That I’m very poor and very sleep-deprived and literally the only thing you can kill me for right now are my notes.” He pauses. Wait. On second thought: “Please don’t steal my notes.”

“I’m not—I’m not a mugger,” Not Mugger rasps out, and for all that he looks about to keel over and die, the man actually manages to sound offended.

Nick Fury

Bedtime Story by dixiehellcat (Teen, 2532) tumblr: @deehellcat

Fury snorted. “I have to check in with the duty officer. I’ll be back in, let’s say twenty minutes. I expect all of you to have whatever your pre-bedtime routines are completed, and be in here pajama’ed and ready to be read to.”

He tapped the book under his arm, then left with the usual dramatic swish of his long coat. Bruce scratched his head. “Did…he just say be ready to be read to?”

Pepper Potts

Pepper and the Avengers (Which She Knows Nothing About) by rebelmeg (General, 6696) tumblr: @rebelmeg

The Avengers, that mismatched group of hurt and heroism, was one of the most important things in Tony Stark’s life. So, naturally, Pepper had made them an important part of her life too.

Vision

039. Intoxicated by aimmyarrowshigh (Teen, 100) tumblr: @aimmyarrowshigh

It might be nice to fit in, just this once. To lose a bit of composure.

Vision floated over to the refrigerator and, with some timidity, pulled off a magnet. He stuck it to his forehead.

#marvel fic rec

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zarcake-writes · 4 years

Text

Zaxos

This story features an alien lizard and a female scientist tasked with studying him.

Warnings: lemon mentions (nothing too graphic)

The base is so quiet and empty that it’s unsettling. Most of the scientists, assistants, and clerks went home hours ago. The only people who are still around are either asleep on their desks or too engrossed in their work to notice anyone. The armed guards stand at attention in the hallways and specific doors, looking as intimidating as always. A closer inspection, however, reveals that many of them have zoned out or are falling asleep standing up.

During the day, the base is abuzz with life. The hallways are filled with people coming and going. Most of the doors are opened, revealing labs and people at work. Voices echo along the halls, the intercom goes off regularly, and people are eager to speak with each other.

At night the base is the complete opposite. Being here at night has always freaked you out. The combination of long, empty hallways and artificial lights remind you of a bad horror movie.

Exhaustion tugs at you, your eyes hurt from reading files all day, your hand is stiff from writing, and your lower back aches from sitting on an uncomfortable chair all day. There’s a smudge on your glasses, but the papers and files in your hands prevent you from cleaning them.

A quick right and you end up down another hall. This one is short and at the end stands two armed guards. Unlike most of the other sleepy guards on base, these two are alert and ready. With stern faces, clenched jaws, and narrowed eyes, they take you in.

While both of them are intimidating, you know the older guard. His eyes are dark and there’s a bit of white in his stubble. While he’s still on alert, there’s an amused look in his eyes and the beginning of a smile on his face. The other guard, well, you don’t like him. He’s younger, with eyes so pale they border on the unnatural. He reminds you of a bully, always glaring down at you and never speaking.

“I have clearance for this area. Doctor Miller has requested these papers to be placed on his desk,” you said. A quick flash of your badge reveals you have level five clearance.

The older guard with dark eyes takes the badge and pretends to examine it closely. He does this every time you show it to him. “A bit late for leaving papers on desks, isn’t it?” While his face is stern, he sounds almost teasing.

You scoff. “Nothing is ever too late for Doctor Miller. The man called me once, at three in the morning, asking me about some a report from two years before. When I told him how late it was, he was surprised. The man never sleeps, and in turn, neither do his assistants.”

The guard with dark eyes laughs and nods his head. “That sounds like Doctor Miller.”

“Knowing him, this simple delivery will turn into me inputting numbers and triple checking data. My luck, I’ll be here all night.”

The dark-eyed guard gives you a sympathetic look and motions for the other guard to open the door. The pale-eyed guard opens the door, his eyes never leave you, and his glare deepens. You do your best to ignore the unpleasant prickling feeling on the back of your neck.

“Well, hopefully, you’ll be out of there soon,” the dark-eyed guard said.

“Let’s hope.”

You nod politely and walk through the door. The feeling of being watched doesn’t leave you until the metal door shuts behind you with an audible click. Something about that pale-eyed guard makes you nervous. The hairs on the back of your neck always stand on end, and your gut tells you to avoid him at all costs.

It can mean anything, right? While he comes across as a dick, he’s just a normal person. All the guards on base are normal people, sure some of them are assholes, but they’re like you. Humans stuck working on this base, not knowing what truly goes on here. That’s one thing everyone on base has in common. No one knows what truly happens on this base or what secrets are hidden away behind locked metal doors. There are whispers and rumors of things that happen, deaths that are ruled as accidents, and disappearances that are ignored.

Dark-eyed guard and pale-eyed guard probably don’t even know about the creature that lies behind the door they guard. They probably have no idea how deep this base truly goes. The twisting tunnels and strange creatures hidden behind metal doors are unknown to them. If you’re being honest, even you don’t know what truly happens here. There are doors and areas of the base that you can’t access. Your level five clearance is nothing.

Some of these places Doctor Miller can’t even access. His clearance is way above yours, and he’s been working here for over two decades. But even he can't access every part of this base.

Doctor Miller told you once that this base is larger than anyone thinks. He mentioned the winding tunnels, secret experiments, strange objects, and creatures that people can only imagine. While he insisted that he can’t tell you everything, he did mention a massacre that occurred a few years back on one of the lower levels. That level has remained locked ever since. No one can get in there and nothing can get out.

After hearing the story, you wonder if something like that would happen on this floor. It’s possible. You only know one of the creatures that reside on this floor. He’s docile and friendly with you, but who knows what else lurks behind locked doors. That thought sends a shiver down your spine.

Arriving at the end of the hall, your thoughts come to a halt. The door, like the others, is metal and locked with a keycard and hand scanner. You think there should be more security. Not just to protect the people on base, but to protect what is inside.

Once the card is swiped and your hand in scanned, the door unlocks and slides open.

The room is large, filled with computers, lab equipment, and a handful of desks. The only source of light in the room comes from a couple of computers in rest mode and two overhead lights. At the far end of the room is a large glass wall.

You enter the room, lazily dropping the stack of papers and files onto your desk. The papers aren’t important. No one asked you to drop off any late files or anything. They were just a guise to get into the room without the guards asking too many questions or getting suspicious. Rumors are spreading and new people are showing up at the base, so it’s important to cover your tracks.

As you approach the glass wall, you can see dark shapes behind the wall and hear the sound of running water. A flip of a switch and the lights beyond the glass turn on, revealing the glass wall is a giant aquarium. Within is a jungle of giant green plants and winding vines. A single large tree sits in the center. There’s a small waterfall in the corner that feeds into a pond. The water is recycled, maintained at a specific temperature and acidity.

You knock, three times, on the glass. For a moment, nothing happens. The small jungle is still, the only sounds you can hear is the running water and thrum of machines behind you. Then, the plants to your right begin the shake and tremble, and a hulking shape emerges on all fours.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart speeds up at the sight of the lizard-like creature. He reminds you of a cross between a Komodo Dragon and Bearded Dragon. He has a long snout, but his cheeks are covered in numerous spines. There are many more spines of various length scattered along his upper back. The creature's skin is a dark red, while the spines are a beautiful shade of turquoise. His eyes are a darker shade of turquoise. His mouth hangs open, revealing sharp teeth and a long dark tongue. He’s so beautiful, you think.

“Zaxos,” you said with a smile.

The large lizard stands on its hind legs and approaches the glass. His tail swings behind his body lazily and his front arms hang at his side. When the creature speaks, his voice is deep and gravely. “Human. It’s a bit late to be here, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes. I just wanted to see you and explain why I wasn’t here earlier. Doctor Miller had me rewriting all of our files by hand today.”

Zaxos’ eyes soften and he settles down on his stomach. His head rests against his front clawed-feet while his tail wraps around his body. “He told me.”

You nod. “You ate?”

“Yes. Doctor Miller brought me something called tuna. It was quite good.”

“Good. Tomorrow, want me to bring you some mangos?”

Zaxos’ eyes grow wide and he nods. “Yes.”

“Alright. Would you like me to get anything for you before I leave?”

“Do you have to go now?”

“No, I told the guards I might be here late. I used Doctor Miller as an excuse.”

Zaxos snorts and sits up. “Can you come in here?”

You smile and nod. The door to enter Zaxos’ glass cage is sealed with a code that only the lead scientist is supposed to know. Doctor Miller gave it to you when he saw how close Zaxos and you were. You had to swear to never reveal you know the code, no matter what happens.

Once the code is punched in, you kick off your shoes and socks, cuff your pants and enter the large aquarium. The air inside is warm and humid, the ground beneath your feet is damp and warm. Zaxos has not moved from his position. He watches you, turquoise eyes narrowed and tail twitching.

When you reach him, he lifts his head from his front legs. When standing, Zaxos towers over you, but in his current position, his head reaches just below your breasts. He rubs his face against your stomach, inhaling and growling. You touch his face; fingers graze the scales and small spines that adorn his face.

“Can I hold you?” he asked.

“You have muddy claws.”

“So?”

“You’ll get mud on my lab coat.”

“So? It’s just mud.”

“Yeah, mud that the guards and others will see.”

Zaxos huffs and looks up at you. “Take off the coat.”

“If I take off my coat, you’ll want all my clothes off. And need I remind you what happened last time?”

Zaxos groans and hides his face in your shirt.

The memory of what happened is still fresh. Zaxos was curious about human bodies, specifically about what human clothes hide, and asked to see you naked. It started innocently, you pointing to your body parts and telling him what they were for. Zaxos listened and watched with a child-like curiosity, nodding at your explanations. However, that changed when you pointed between your legs.

You explained where your vagina and urethra were and the difference between the two. That got Zaxos’ attention and he started asking more questions about human sexuality and mating. You are a scientist, so you explained it to him in a very clinical way. It wasn’t until he stepped closer and nuzzled the dark curls between your legs, inhaling deeply, did you realize he was aroused.

His eyes were hazy, he was panting and drooling. His body shifted, and between his legs, you could see a partially swollen and leaking slit. The tip of what you assumed was his penis was poking out. Zaxos snapped out of his haze when you gasped and moved away, face on fire. He was shocked and embarrassed, apologized, then hid in the bushes.

Looking back, the situation is a bit amusing. But at the time, it freaked you out. You haven’t been with anyone in a very long time. It’s been several years since your last sexual encounter; not like you were telling everyone that. Cuddling only happens with your pillows. And holding hands doesn’t count if it’s with yourself. So, learning that this overgrown lizard can be sexually aroused by you, well it was a huge shock.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen or to upset you,” he grumbles.

“You didn’t upset me; I was just… surprised.”

Zaxos rumbles low in his throat and looks up at you. “You were scared. Could smell it on you.”

A heavy sigh leaves you. Not only were you scared, but you were also turned on. But you can’t tell Zaxos that. “I was a bit, yes.”

“Don’t want you to be scared of me. Never you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I acted that way. I have no reason to be afraid of you. You’re the sweetest lizard around.”

“Not a lizard.”

“Right, not a lizard. A Volkodan from a faraway planet that crashed here on Earth. My apologies.”

Zaxos sits on his back legs and nuzzles your face, his tongue runs along your cheek. You giggle at the rough feel and the heat of his breath. He rumbles, low in his chest; his claws twitch in a desire to hold you against his body.

Zaxos, the sweet alien lizard, has been stuck in this base for almost a decade. When he was brought into the base, snarling and fighting, Doctor Miller took over as the lead scientist. It took a while, but Miller managed to get on his good side.

You’ve only been working with Miller, and in turn Zaxos, for a year and a half. You still remember the first time you saw Zaxos. He was terrifying, so tall and broad, all sharp edges and even sharper teeth. But there was no denying his beauty. He took to you almost instantly, and you took to him. For the longest time, his eyes followed you every time you entered the lab. It took a few months before he was talking to you, and by the sixth month, you were entering his habitat.

As far as you know, Zaxos is the only extraterrestrial on base. You read old reports about other creatures that fell through portals. The descriptions were usually redacted or were purposely vague. But you imagined horned demons and monsters. Other reports tell of objects that reveal things that hide in the shadows. But there were no other reports of aliens.

“Human,” Zaxos said.

“Yes?”

“You always smell so good.” Zaxos’ nose rubs against your neck, he inhales and growls at your scent. His mouth parts, his breath is hot against your skin. A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue laps at the base of your throat.

“Zaxos,” you whimpered.

One of Zaxos’ clawed hands settles on your back; his claws grip the back of your lab coat. “Hmm. My soft human always smells so sweet. Know you’ll taste sweeter.”

A whimper escapes you. Zaxos growls at the noise and continues to lick your neck. Your legs shake and your heart pounds in your chest. His tongue, so rough and long, sends your body into a tizzy; there’s slick gathering in your panties and you're trembling in his grasp.

In a desperate attempt to stay upright, you cling to Zaxos’ broad shoulders. His second-hand settles on your waist, and he pulls you into his lap. His tongue glides down your neck and over your collar bones, his teeth graze your soft skin. The intimacy of the situation has you shaking and whimpering, eyes fluttering shut and heart pounding in your ears. His clawed hand slides up your back, while the hand on your hip tightens. A rumble comes from Zaxos and you whimper in response.

It’s been so long since someone’s held you. The last intimate encounter you had was not bad, but it wasn’t anything to write home about. And it happened several years ago. But Zaxos, he’s barely done anything to you and you’re already a puddle in his hands. His touch, his entire presence, does something to you that you can’t explain. No human, man or woman, has ever made you feel like this.

Zaxos, despite his appearance, is treating you gently. The licking and slight graze of his teeth are arousing in the gentlest of ways. His hands that can easily rip apart anything, are soothing as they hold you. When he rumbles and growls, you swear it’s like a thunderstorm in his chest. Who knew, that the sound of thunder can be soothing. And his massive body, hard and sharp, is comforting. He’s solid and safe.

The realization takes the breath from your lungs and your eyes tear up. He’s safe. You’re safe with him.

“Zaxos.”

He pulls away and studies you face. His eyes narrow when he sees a tear slide down your cheek. With a clawed finger, Zaxos gathers the tear. He looks worried, so scared, you almost sob on the spot.

“It’s ok. I’m just a little emotional right now,” you said quickly.

Zaxos does not look convinced. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no you didn’t. I… it’s been a long time since someone’s touched me or done anything in that way, and it’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Does my touch… bother you?”

“No. I really enjoy it, maybe a bit too much.”

Zaxos rumbles and nods. “I can smell it. Your body is responsive to me, but I wanted to make sure that you are comfortable. I am pleased you enjoy my touch.”

“And your tongue.”

Zaxos laughs, low and deep. “And my tongue.”

You leave an hour later. It was a challenge getting off of his lap, his whines and grumbles broke your heart. Plus, he was so safe and solid, you didn’t want to leave him. But the clock was ticking and it was getting later. While staying the night wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, you have to get home. A shower and a proper night’s rest are needed.

Zaxos walks you to the door of his cage and watches with sad eyes as you put on your shoes and fix your pants. You take off your lab coat, frown at the dirt and slight rips, but lay it over your arm.

“Zaxos.”

“Human.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow evening, ok? You, be good.”

“I’m always good.”

“I know.”

You lean forward and press a kiss to Zaxos’ snout. His eyes go wide for a moment, but they flutter shut and a low rumble comes from his chest. His eyes are hazy when you pull away, and you know he’s going to pull you back in, but the door slides shut. The lights turn off, but through the darkness of the cage, you can see Zaxos’ figure.

As you leave the lab, you can feel his eyes on you. There’s a pang in your chest and your eyes grow wet. You hate that he has to live in that cage, you want to take him home, but you know that is impossible. There’s no way to get him out of this lab, and even if you did, what would you do with him? Have him hide in your house?

The safest place for Zaxos is the aquarium he’s currently sitting in. And that thought, that thought breaks your heart even more.

#exophilia #lizard boyfriend #lizardman #alien boyfriend #monster boyfriend

283 notes · View notes

derireo · 4 years

Text

a3! as part-timers

I FINALLY FINISHED IT AGAIN. Thank you all for being patient with me because I really liked these headcanons and Tumblr just decided to delete them all <3

WARNING: rookie Chikage Utsuki will be included! (this means spoilers for Act 5 are present throughout).

It's canon that Sakuya works with Misumi, but I have no clue as to what their jobs are. Let's safely assume that Sakuya works at a cafe! His bright disposition and cheerful smile is bound to put a smile on customer's face, but he's a little clumsy when it comes to making drinks so his co-workers always tell him to stick to the cash register. It suits him anyways, being able to talk to different people of different walks of life. He mostly works in the mornings, only after he manages to get Masumi to school on time. He is a customer favourite no doubt, and he brings in a lot of tips for all of the workers to share! Many of the children that come by love him, and especially teachers who are running late to work deem him the sunshine in their life.

Masumi would work at a music shop. Not to be obvious or anything, but music is possibly one of the only constants in his life and he grew a deep bond with it while staying alone at home for most of his life. So when he manages to get a job at shop in inside Veludo Mall, he's ecstatic. Although he gets to spend less time in the dorm (which means less time with the Director), Masumi absolutely loves perusing the endless aisles of music cds, vinyl records, posters, and so much more. He's also very diligent at his job, organizing things perfectly and on time and even helping out customers even though he doesn't really want to. His coworkers grow so fond of him to the point that they let him listen to his own music while doing his job, headphones on while he reorganizes things on the shelves.

I don't really know what part-time job Citron would have, but I know he hangs around the Veludo markets a lot. He's there all the time, helping out the lovely ladies at their food stalls by actively advertising their products of the day and even charming young couples into buying some trinkets at another stall. His charm is very effective, smile so dazzling and eyes so hypnotizing that you can't help but follow him towards a stall where they're selling handmade mochi or fresh produce. This is all volunteering though, Citron doesn't get paid with money. What he does get paid with is lots of hugs and groceries to bring home to the dorm-- much to the delight of Izumi and Omi! Citron's so popular at the markets that he receives a greeting from every single stall while he passes by. And he never leaves empty handed!

Tsuzuru tends to boast about the countless number of part-time jobs he's had. From gas station worker, to waiter, to library work, he has done a lot of things. I don't really think it's something to brag about because if I had that many jobs I would probably d-word. But working at Mankai as a playwright, that's already his dream come true. I don't think he'd want to work anywhere else when he's writing stories and bringing them to life like he has always wanted and it makes me happy to see that he's living out his dream. If anything, if he does work a part-time job, it's probably to get extra money to spend on his younger and older brothers since he's such a family man. And because his stories bring so much attention to Mankai, Sakyo compensates Tsuzuru very generously.

Gaming is Itaru's part-time job. Taruchi is a mysterious persona who is crazy good at video games and has a soothing voice. The kick is that nobody knows what he looks like and Itaru would like to keep it that way. He's a popular streamer and Let's Player so there's no doubt that he is raking in a lot of cash. How he finds time to juggle an office job, Mankai, and streaming is beyond me, but it is absolutely impressive because despite how lazy he seems to be, he is a diligent worker who is very good at entertaining people. Plus, nobody knowing what his face looks like brings in a lot of intrigue and fans. Itaru always baits his fans that just maybe he'll reveal his face to them, but never does. Everyone loves his teasing and Itaru loves messing with people. One of the top streamers on his platform and he's proud of it. The appearance of Banri's NEO also helps a lot with bringing in viewers. (The extra money he makes is donated to the Mankai fund box)

Not gonna lie, but with Chikage being a spy as well as an office worker, I don't think he has enough time to have another job on top of that. As we saw in Act 5, he worked tirelessly on his computer, rarely sleeping. Being a spy is hard work, and now that he realizes that Hisoka may not have betrayed the organization, he now has to work to keep Hisoka's location hidden from enemies. Can you imagine being an office worker tho.... could never be me. Sry Chikage and Itaru lmfao but that sounds painful. Anyways, if Chikage isn't actively working for the organization and isn't posting on his curry blog, maybe he's doing tech support? He's always sitting at his computer so he might as well you know lmfaoo

"I'm too famous to work a part-time job" he says while at the same time applying to work at a bonsai shop. Who are you kidding, Tenma? Also pretty sure the owners don't really care so he gets the job right away since they're in desperate need of help. Tenma acts kind of bratty as it is his first time having a job that isn't acting, but he gets knocked down a few pegs when he has to carry around heavy bags of soil and nutrients for the bonsai trees. Eventually, he comes to love his job, seeing the owners as part of his family as they take great care of him while he works at their shop. Unfortunately, there will still be those fans who will watch him as he works at the bonsai shop, but Tenma uses it to his advantage, saying that if they want to look a little more, they're going to have to buy a bonsai tree. The owners are like ??? wtf tenma ??? but inevitably, it brings in a lot of business;;;

Yuki would definitely work at a boutique as an apprentice!! Working with different types of fabric and body shapes and frills, god, what a dream come true for him! Sure, making costumes for Mankai is one thing, but those are costumes, not actual clothes you would wear outside on the daily. His skill in clothes is amazing and it amazes his mentor who watches on proudly as Yuki sews something gorgeous every single time he comes to help. And Yuki absolutely loves being there too, getting to work on normal every day people who aren't huge hulking men that manage to ruin their measurements every time Yuki makes something for them. Plus, using this experience from his apprenticeship helps him a lot if he so chooses to go to a school for fashion. I'm rooting for you, Yuki!

Working at a manga store, Muku is absolutely in love. He's already in the Library Committee at school so might as well work somewhere book related, right? The boy was lucky to get the job at his favourite manga shop at the mall, and he doesn't even need to wear a uniform! As long as he wears his employee lanyard and name tag, he is all good to go! Being surrounded with his favourite book series and figurines and posters alike is very exciting for Muku, and he works extremely well with customers who need help looking for recommendations or gifts. His enthusiasm charms everyone he talks to and he becomes a customer and workplace favourite after a couple of days. His avid hobby of reading manga is apparent to everyone he comes across, and when he meets another customer who is just as dedicated to manga as he, they have long talks while Muku convinces them to buy more books.

Kazunari would definitely work at an arts store. Cliche, I know, but he wouldn't want to be anywhere else! Michaels would be a good place to start, but knowing how great he is at aesthetics, I think a paint store would do him well too. Both places would mostly have university students as their workers anyways so Kazunari would fit in right away! Popular with customers due to his enthusiasm with art, Kazunari gets a lot of requests for help when choosing certain pigments and wallpapers for bedrooms and large scale art projects. His knowledge with the subject of art is deep and wide, so he is able to answer any questions thrown his way. He is so loved at his job that when he eventually quits to achieve bigger things, they throw a party for him and all promise to visit and watch his next play!

It's canon that Misumi is a freelancer, which means he works any type of odd job and never sticks to one for too long. The job that he has kept the longest is the cafe one where he's with Sakuya. He actually helped Sakuya get this job at the first place, and when they work together, they're a force to be reckoned with! They bring in a lot of tips together and since Misumi is so quick on his feet and speedy with his hands, there's never a line up for drinks. Everything goes out the door just as fast as they had come in and his co-workers love him for it. He is also very popular for his fanged tooth and eye crinkling smile! Many regulars give him triangles as their tips! And if Misumi isn't working at the cafe, he's helping out as a mover because he's quick and strong (like we saw in HaGT), or he is helping out the local mailman. Because the mailman is growing older in age, Misumi takes it upon himself to help him deliver the rest of the mail so that the sweet old man can go home early. Misumi is always seen running around the neighbourhood with the mailbag!

I know this will sound weird, but I think Banri would fare well as a tutor. Knowing that he can just flip through a textbook once and immediately know what to do, I think it would do everyone good if he helped tutor those who struggle. Although I bash Banri a lot (as a joke) I am still able to see that he cares very much for others. He has rarely struggled in his life and clearly doesn't understand the hardships of the other members when they can't seem to do this or that, so he does his best to put himself in their shoes so he knows what he can do to help others who are struggling much the same. So Tsumugi helps him get a tutoring gig, and he hits it off right away. It's impressive really, how he's able to help students understand concepts they once thought they would never be able to get and it makes Banri happy. Banri is someone who wishes to help others-- he even says that he wants to help Mankai grow by bringing back the knowledge he learns at Veludo Arts. And I don't think he'd need the money, so he donates most of it to the Mankai funds.

Is it cliche of me to put Juza in a bakery? You know, sweets, confectionaries. BREAD. God, knowing how Juza grew up with a loving mom who almost always baked sweets for him and Kumon makes me want to cry. I love them so much. Anyways, he'd be a little clumsy in the back kitchen so I think he would just stick to decorating pastries and mini cakes and all that. It's a very curious thing to watch as a customer, a young, mean looking man scrunching his eyebrows as he puts a smiley face on a cupcake. It's cute. There's also another part of me that wants to see him work as an apprentice for shūji, or traditional Japanese calligraphy. Knowing that Juza studied it when he was younger (and that's why his signature is nice), it would definitely be pretty cool for him to do scrolls and stuff. It's a tough job though, considering the art of Japanese calligraphy is an important thing, and every stroke and word you write counts. It's a beautiful art form though, and Juza could make a pretty penny out of commissions.

After learning about journalling from Izumi, Taichi most definitely applied to work at a stationary shop. He's a bit clumsy with it, but he's got the spirit and that's all that matters! Strangely enough, this is one of the rare times where he isn't actively vying for attention, but for some reason he gets it a lot here. It's not like he minds or anything, but please, ladies, quiet down ^^; He is a favourite in the workplace though since he's so energetic and is always eager to help out customers; especially the old grandmas who are looking for gifts to give their grandchildren. The old ladies love him too, and they pamper him a lot much to his bashful enjoyment. And since his coworkers know that he loves journalling so much, they give him a lot of extra stock to bring home so that he can share it with Izumi and Omi! On a less serious note, he'd probably do public dance battles outside with his friends to get a quick buck.

Man... Omi would work at a bakery too. Most likely he would work with Juza because that would make sense, and both of their presences at the bakery shop would attract a lot of attention. Two, hulking dudes working at a bakery shop? Count me in pls. He'd be the one working at the back kitchen, baking everything and such. I would have also liked to put him in a restaurant, but considering that you can't become a sous chef or even a head chef until years later (due to the hierarchy and training), I don't think I want him to do that. He's already studying to become a business major after all so it would be difficult to juggle two separate things to study for. He would also work great as a photographer, but he doesn't do any taxing jobs unless it's for Mankai or very close friends. His friends always pay him too much, but they insist he keeps the money (which he puts into Mankai funds) and as compensation from Sakyo, the older man lets Omi indulge in buying expensive ingredients for that night's dinner.

Why is Sakyo working so hard? I'm getting worried. He works as Mankai's accountant and is part of the Yakuza; those are already two stressful things to work for. He has so much to do and there's always a lot of plate considering he manages a lot of Mankai with Matsukawa and Izumi, and on top of that he always acts as Mankai's Papa, Accountant, and Grumpy Old Man at the End of the Street. And when he isn't doing anything at Mankai, Patriarch Izumida calls him in for a task to do at Ginsenkai or the area they patrol. He also owns a freakin' diner that is under Ginsenkai's care like?? wtf Sakyo. He works so hard, spends tireless days to help keep Mankai afloat and it makes my heart hurty </3 Sakyo was my first crush so I can't help but worry a little and he's my comfort character whenever I'm way too engrossed at looking at Omi's huge bahonkerz so pls... Sakyo take care of urself I'm begging. Also most of the money he earns goes to his family, and the rest is for Mankai's funds.

Tsumugi on the other hand would stay as a tutor since it's canon! Sure, he has a bit of competition now that he's helped Banri enter the tutoring scene, but he's still got his loyal students to take care of. He is a very diligent worker and is very smart so working out problems is nothing too hard for him. He cares for each and every student he has, writing personalized study outlines for them as well as keeping notes on them with what they're struggling on, what they're excelling at, and even takes notes on their study habits and how long their attention lasts for until they need to take a break. Tsumugi makes sure that he is teaching his students properly and cares for them a lot. If not tutoring, he is helping at the local Veludo flower boutique and is very popular there. He helps create a lot of bouquets with deep meanings, but sometimes those bouquets he makes are gifting to him right after, lmao

Ugh as for Tasuku, knowing how good he is at fixing things, he would be great at an electronics store or a mechanics shop. He has a natural talent at fixing things and I can only assume it's because as a child, he really loved tinkering with items that were laying around the house. Plus, knowing that he has an older brother, he probably had a lot of Gundam sets laying around that sparked his interest in building things. You've seen him fix a lot of things right? To his motorcycle, his car, the television, my heart, omfg he can do it all like wtf. He becomes so skilled at fixing cars that he somehow acquires the skill to soup them up too?? When did those big ass rims get there? Where the hell did those damn hydraulics come from? That sort of thing. God he would look so sexy in a classic Ford Mustang </3 On the other hand, I think he would be great at becoming an acting coach. He might give Yuzo a run for his money.

It's canon that Hisoka has a job, but no one really knows what it is I think. I believe he would be a mattress tester! Remember that backstage story with the All Male Lap Pillow Competition or whatever? Hisoka is basically a connoisseur at all things soft and comfortable because he chose Izumi's lap as the most comfortable. He said it was so soft (god I wish I were him) that he could fall asleep and he did!!! Absolutely amazing. With his picky sleeping choices, Hisoka is able to tell whether this or that mattress prototype is good to go or needs some working on. The benefits to this job is that he gets to sleep a lot too because of course, they need to see if the mattress is good enough to sleep on!! Of course he gets paid in money, but since his managers know that he loves marshmallows, they pay him in that too.

Does Homare really need a part-time job? He's basically a renowned writer, it's just that Mankai seems ignorant to the fact. Tsuzuru and Muku has found a whole bunch of his books in the library for goodness sake so of course he's making mad bank! In HaGT he had a business meeting with a publisher/editor so you can't really tell me that he isn't good at his job because if he's having international meetings?? UHM. Of course he's famous literally what is he at Mankai for? The Found Family??? GOD OF COURSE you can stay Homare I love you so much. But seriously, he is super rich, and because he loves Mankai so much, he helps out and chips in to fill the Mankai funds so that they can stay afloat.

And here we have Azuma. I am not going to lie, but I am very protective over Azuma when it comes to his part-time job. Azuma was lonely for a huge chunk of life, unable to fill the void where his family used to sit in his heart. So he picked up skincare, and then he picked up cuddling/escort. His job in the past was full of false security and fake love that would never seal the cracks in his body, but when he found Mankai, something was different. He felt like he belonged somewhere. Especially after Nocturnality, it's obvious that Azuma has finally found his home. So I don't want him to go back to his cuddling/escort job;;; but if he wants to work again, I think being a skincare consultant would be really good! Since his skin is so flawless, many customers would flock to him for advice and the best products to use. His gentle voice and soothing caress as he rubs cream into his customer's skin is hypnotizing, and he shares his skincare routine with anyone who is willing to spend the time, effort, and money into making their skin look pretty like his.

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Essential Avengers: Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #1-3

May, 1984

THE WAR BEGINS

Oof, here we go.

Just gotta replicate the pace that let me do the Hawkeye miniseries in one go, three times in a row.

This is probably too much effort considering its Secret Wars (or more accurately Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars) and maybe there’s not going to be a lot of big changes from this in the Avengers book to really justify it.

But we’re getting Jim Shooter writing the Avengers and his non-consecutive runs were a lot better than I had remembered. And it continues the theme he had from the Avengers book.

It just makes sense in a nonsense way to cover this story.

Last relevant time in Avengers! Acting Completely Normal Vision warned the Avengers about some weird, possibly hostile energy surges right in time for an energy surge to surge energetically in Central Park.

When the Avengers went to investigate, they found a weird structure that looked like a techy coliseum maybe. When some of the Avengers wandered into it (apparently the most bankable Avengers? Sucks to be Vision and Wanda, shrug) they vanished.

In the next issue, after several days, these heroes returned, speaking of a secret war they fought. Weird stuff like She-Hulk taking the Thing’s place on the Fantastic Four happened. In other books, Spidey got a cool new suit.

Would you know more?

After being raptured in their various books, the missing superheroes all end up on one of those distinctive structures like the one that appeared in Central Park, except IN SPACE.

Its cool that the Avengers will have some company.

We’ve got a terrific 3/4ths of the Fantastic Four, the X-Men (including Lockheed but not including Kitty Pryde for some reason), the Avengers, Iron Man, Spider-Man, the totally Articulate Hulk, and hilariously Magneto is also here.

Maybe Secret Wars is just setting up the most awkward moment in the universe, as a prank show.

I think I’d enjoy a big event that turned out to be a prank show at the last minute. The fan discontent. Imagine.

Everyone introduces themselves to each other but mostly the audience and Ben Grimm claims his new codename as the Easter Bunny.

Checking, marvel wiki doesn’t have Easter Bunny listed as one of Ben’s known aliases. Cowards.

Looking up into space, Captain America spots another one of the totally cool constructs and Professor X scans that it contains EEEEEEEVIL.

Specifically Amora the Enchantress, Ultron, the Wrecking Crew, the Absorbing Man, the Lizard, VICTOR VON DOOOOOM, Kang the Conqueror, Doctor Octopus, and Molecule Man. Also, hilariously, Galactus is there.

I’m more convinced than ever that this is a prank show.

You know what would be more hilarious? If Punisher ended up on this construct.

The distribution of villains is kind of odd though. Galactus and Doctor Doom map to the FF. Doctor Octopus and the Lizard to Spider-Man. Ultron, Molecule Man, and Kang are Avengers foes. The Absorbing Man and the Wrecking Crew can go a couple ways but started off as Thor villains. And Amora is usually a Thor villain but supposedly has chilled out around this time or at least is less of a pain than her horny sister.

No X-Men villains. Because Magneto is chilling with them in the generally heroic pod.

Also, all the heroes were raptured from Earth while the villains were grabbed from Earth, from space, from Asgard, resurrected just to be here, or from the FUTURE.

I know marketing is wagging the dog but be consistent, secret organizer who we don’t know yet.

The Thing points out that Magnet is off-sides, re: being in the hero construct, and Magneto is like ‘hey, chill out dudes’ and denies specifically doing murders.

Magneto: “I know not what power transported me here from my secret lair, nor why I was placed among you -- but I find it more appropriate to ask why such as you were judged fit to be placed in my presence!”

Oof.

Burn.

Then the conversation is put on halt on account of the wildest shit any of them have ever seen.

An entire galaxy vanishes but probably not due to a wave of anti-matter.

Thor: “It’s gone! Gone -- ! Swept away like dust before some unseen, giant hand!”

And then around that last star left unswept, various chunks merge together to form some sort of world, perhaps for battle.

A nice touch for later is that you can definitely see that one of the chunks is a stray chunk of city.

Some of the villains start squabbling because close quarters, ego, etc.

But Ultron goes hey we’re allowed to fight? I’m the best at that.

Ultron: “I am Ultron! I do not understand the events transpiring! I do not understand how I came to be resurrected... nor how I came to be here! Nothing computes... Insignificant! I am Ultron! My purpose is to slay that which lives. You are all living things, ergo -- Ultron must destroy you!”

With the benefit of having read all the Avengers up to now, I feel that Ultron got up on the wrong side of the resurrection a little.

He’s not not like this but he’s not usually this turned on?

(Then again, maybe he just came back cranky)

DOOM grabs and shakes Molecule Man to do something about this because given enough time even the mighty DOOM might fall before Ultron.

Ultron is famously annoying to defeat, what with that adamantium.

But Molecule Man is in therapy after the Avengers kicked his shit and Tigra yelled at him for being a punk. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

So Doom with all his brilliant genius tells MM a cool way to help out that won’t hurt anyone. Directly.

Using his Molecule Man power over molecules to lightly toss Ultron into Galactus.

So that Galactus goes ‘who the fuck scuffed my boots’ and rips out all the energy in Ultron’s Ultron.

He can do that.

Why wouldn’t he? If he can do that to a planet, he can do it to a pissbaby robot. Even one apparently containing more power than an atom bomb.

Then, because this is one of those plots where things are always thenning, a rift opens in the nothingness of space and a heavenly esque light shines out. A warbly voice commands the action figures beat each other up.

I mean. Its more like

The Beyonder: “I am from beyond! Slay your enemies and all you desire shall be yours! Nothing you dream of is impossible for me to accomplish!”

But you have to admire that this toy commercial of a comic book is being honest and upfront about being a story where action figures bonk off of each other.

Galactus just hears ‘i can finally shake off these persistent forever munchies’ and flies off to demand prepayment for action figure bonking, with DOOM following behind him.

The Beyonder speaks up warning Galactus that hey, personal space. And that a guy that can effortlessly wipe out a galaxy is gonna have a sweet barrier but Galactus wants the hunger pangs gone and does not listen.

DOOM recognizes a bad idea when he sees one once in a while and hangs back but still gets blown out of space by the force of Galactus bonking off the Beyonder’s barriers.

Captain America: “They were swatted back like flies!”

Professor X: “To the Beyonder, even Galactus is less than a fly, Captain!”

Interruption dealt with, the Beyonder gets the show on the road and sends the two constructs to different parts of the patchwork planet.

The Marvel Super Heroes And Magneto land on some hill and quickly make sure that there are no villains excepting Magneto around.

With Magneto around, the non-X-Men raise an objection to Magneto being around.

He sank a Russian submarine with all hands back in X-Men #150 but he insists that it was self-defense and also they started it.

The X-Men’s position is ‘hey he’s a jerk but he’s our jerk plus we could use his help? The bad guys get GALACTUS, how is that fair?’

Well, they don’t say it but they’re probably thinking it.

And Hawkeye decides to be a little racist today.

Hawkeye: “You mutants stick together, huh? Well, sticking to a blood-soaked maniac like him doesn’t speak well of you, pal!”

Dude, Clint. Your dear old friend is Wanda.

Wait, why ISN’T Wanda here? Did the toy people really not want her? Fools. Her husband is toyetic as all get out.

Also, point of order, Wolverine? If anyone qualifies as ‘hey he’s a jerk but he’s our jerk!’ here its you.

Johnny “good life choices” Storm decides he’ll just kick Magneto’s ass and end the debate but yeah. Yeah, no. Magneto makes a fool of him.

And then Magneto decides eff this noise and flies off.

With Magneto alienated (good job, guys), Professor X decides this group needs some dang leadership and throws a nomination to Reed Richards. Reed defers since he’s thinking of Sue, left at home and not able to participate in the event.

Wasp, the cool leader of the Avengers, nominates instead Captain America.

Wasp: “We’re off in a strange land, up to our ears in a little secret war that may decide the fate of the universe! Some people don’t know me well! They might have doubts... and there’s no room for that!”

I’m baffled that there’s people here who don’t know Wasp who has been heroing since the 60s but sure. Cap(tain America) probably gets more crossovers and whatever.

I mean, heck, we’re talking a group of heroes consisting of the Avengers (who she already leads), the Fantastic Three (who she’s well acquainted with), and the X-Men (who I’m sure she’s met, although awkwardly its going to later be revealed that Wasp is in the Hellfire Club, but only the sex parts).

And I guess Wolverine’s extensive backstory with Cap doesn’t exist yet because Wolverine isn’t keen on him being the leader, describing him as the least of the assembled heroes. When Hawkeye is right there!

I kid because I love.

Meanwhile, DOOM wakes up adjacent to Galactus ankle and heads to a nearby fortress which he correctly assumes is where the villains have ended up.

Wait, the heroes get beamed down to a random hill while the villains get sent to an advanced fortress with weaponry and we later learn vehicles sold separately?

Kinda stacking the deck, the Beyonder.

You gave the villains GALACTUS and A FORTRESS PLAYSET right out of the gate.

The other villains tell Doom that they’ve (mostly) decided that he should be their leader. But Doom has bigger fish to fry than the prizes that the Beyonder is offering.

In typical Doomesque fashion, he wants the whole kettle. But the other villains what with their petty concerns think he’s too afraid to fight.

So he ditches.

He goes to steal-borrow a spaceship and even though he hates the thought, takes off to go talk to Richards. And then Kang shoots him out of the sky with a GIANT GUN THAT THE VILLAIN FORTRESS ALSO HAS? to stop him from allying with the heroes.

Said (marvel super) heroes see the distant explosion and fly as a group in the most hilarious way possible to check it out.

God, I have always loved this image. Its squished down into the bottom third of the page but its a delight.

They find Doom sprawled in the crash site, rambling that he’ll only speak to RICHARRRRRDS and about the Beyonder’s power. But Cap offends Doom mightily but offering him a hand up and because Doom sees pity in Cap and RICHARRRRRRDS eyes.

So he blasts the heroes and fucks off.

How very Bakugou of him.

And right as the heroes recover from that, a bunch of villains arrive to get this secret war started.

I have a fondness for this particular issue. For a long while, issue 1 was the only issue of Secret Wars I could find. So I just had the start of this story with all these non-Spider-Man non-X-Men heroes I barely knew cliffhangering into an attack by villains I really didn’t recognize except for Doc Ock and the Lizard.

It was a window into another side of the Marvel Universe. And for child me, this first issue worked perfectly to intrigue me. All these characters, the very straightforward conflict, all the complications that immediately pop up like Magneto, Galactus, and Doom. Alas, small child resources.

June, 1984

PRISONERS of War!

The heroes react slowly to the sudden villain attack but thankfully, the villains aren’t working together well. Unthankfully, half of the heroes were already knocked out by the first attack.

Meanwhile, over at Doctor Doom’s side of the plot, he flies back over to where Galactus just in time to see him finally rouse from being slapped down by the Beyonder.

Galactus floats to his feet and wanders off.

Doom: “He ignored me! As though I were a gnat buzzing at his feet! And so I am... Just as all of us, even Galactus himself, are but insects to the all-powerful Beyonder! Thus, the others have chosen to play the Beyonder’s simple game -- thereby, in effect, paying homage to him. Should I, too, pay homage? Should I worship at the feet of this god-like being -- or chose another path... one only Doom would dare!”

I think anyone that knows Doom knows which option he’s gonna choose.

He heads back to the villain fortress and finds Ultron’s deactivated body and decides Doom can use this.

Meanwhile, back at the first secret battle of the secret war, the heroes rally and start fighting back under Cap(tain America)’s leadership.

She-Hulk even gets a designated girl fight with the only female villain on the villain team.

I’d complain, I would. But at least She-Hulk isn’t the only heroine on the hero side.

She-Hulk: “Hiya! I’m the She-Hulk! You must be the Enchantress! Gee, I’ve heard so much about you -- ! You’re a not-nice lady!”

Enchantress: “A green woman? Is there no end to the varieties of mortals?”

The Enchantress magic slaps She-Hulk away and comments that she could crush She-Hulk physically but its beneath her.

Yeah, all Asgardians have some level of super strength, that’s right. Even the squishy wizards.

But all She-Hulk heard was, ‘someone I can really punch!’

She-Hulk: “I don’t often duke it out with someone solid enough to really unload on -- and slow enough to let me! Oh, wow! That was, like tubular, you know -- to the max!”

Uh. Jen, are you okay? Did you have a stroke? You don’t usually talk so much in Mario World secret world levels.

I think maybe Jim Shooter didn’t have a good grasp on her. I don’t think he’s ever written for her. And the other heroes mostly don’t vary too much from generic hero speaking patterns. Add some smart for smart characters, add some rude to Wolverine, and so on.

The battle wraps up with Kang, the Enchantress, and the Wrecking Crew captured and the rest of the villains fleeing when the battle didn’t go their way.

Cap sends Storm off to scout for a cool playset that they can use as shelter and she does so, noting that the winds on Battleworld are super easy to control. Like Battleworld was created to create ideal fighting conditions for everyone. Pretty neat, the Beyonder.

Storm finds a particularly rad fortress (”Bigger than fifty-four and a half Pentagons, I’d estimate!” Wow!) and the heroes move in.

I unironically enjoy how toyetic this story is with the fortresses and the vehicles and the weapons. Because I’m almost positive that Mattel barely capitalized on it.

There were only two playsets. Pitiful.

Over in their new headquarters, Reed stashes the captured villains in some form of psychostasis which “works by controlling aggression through brainwave modulation!”

He also sticks Enchantress in a healing pod to address that nasty case of being She-Hulked right in the face. Nothing will salve her ego though.

Captain America: “It’s no wonder that the name Mister Fantastic is renowned for compassion as well as courage! You give added meaning to the word hero, Richards!”

Whenever someone loudly announces that Reed is super compassionate, it makes me feel like they’re overcompensating.

Nobody ever makes note of, say, Captain America’s compassion.

With the prisoners (of war? Is that the whole reason for the title?) accommodated, Cap calls everyone for a meeting in a cool meeting dome he found which has a small waterfall for aesthetic and so everyone has to yell to be heard.

Wolverine yells that they should mop up the rest of the villains and get this over with.

Not mentioning that in order to “win it” they’d have to kill the villains, which none of the heroes have shown any interest in doing so far.

Cap(tain America) replies that A) planet big and they have no idea where the villains got to. And B) the remaining villains slash antagonists are Galactus, Doctor Doom, Molecule Man, Doctor Octopus, the Wrecker, the Absorbing Man, and Magneto. Not really people you mop up.

In a fun logistics bit, Cap sends out a patrol to make sure the area is secure but he also sends out two additional groups to find if there are any places in this fortress they can sleep and whether there's any... food.

Makes me imagine a Secret Survival War where the sides have to wrestle over limited resources.

Hours later, the villains that escaped the fracas arrive back at their fortress.

I’m sort of confused here.

Maybe it took so long because they had to make sure they weren’t followed. Or maybe because they didn’t have the sweet tripod vehicle anymore. But think about the flow of events of: everyone beamed down to Battleworld > Doom ditches the villains and gets shot down > heroes investigate and Doom ditches > villains show up for cliffhanger fight.

The villain fortress should be pretty close to where that fight took place. And then the heroes find a nearby fortress of their own so their fortress should be pretty close to the villain fortress. Maybe not in the same neighborhood but surely the same zip code.

Anyway, they find that while they were gone, Doom swanned in and renamed the place the Doombase.

If they have problems with it, they can talk to his Ultron.

Which I’m surprised he didn’t rename Doomtron.

Doom also tells them that he’s in charge now.

Absorbing Man: “Aw! Who gives a hoot! I need a meal an’ sleep! You wanna be in charge, Doom? Okay by me!”

If you think about it, this is just some steps added what the villains wanted all along.

They wanted Doom to be their leader but he told them he had bigger fish to fry and fucked off. Now he’s fucked back on and told them all that he’s their leader. They initially object before reconsidering due to Doomtron but, yeah, its all gone full circle.

Doom is a lot more cordial to Molecule Man though.

Doom: “Molecule Man... uh, Mr. Reece, I believe it is? I trust you were not inconvenienced.”

Molecule Man: “Well, being absolute master of molecules I can just assimilate molecules when I want, so I never have to be hungry, and I can just shoo away dirt molecules, so I’m always nice and clean -- but I am tired!”

Doom: “I have prepared a special chamber for you! I hope you like it!”

Molecule Man: “If not, I can always reconstruct the molecules -- !”

Heh.

Nice to see Jim Shooter able to follow up on the trajectory he sent Molecule Man on.

The rest of the villains head off but Doctor Octopus, the only other brain cell in this group, hangs back to talk to DOOM.

He wants to know what he plans to do about Galactus and then shows Doom on the biggest screen TV that Galactus is standing on a mountain glowing with an awesome power.

Doom just retorts that his plans are for his forces to triumph.

Doctor Octopus: Something tells me he’s got ambitions that dwarf merely triumphing in the Beyonder’s little contest! The question is whether he will destroy us in trying to achieve them -- or immediately after fulfilling them?!

Like I said, the only other brain cell in this group.

Meanwhile, while Magneto secretly sneaks into the hero fortress for Reasons, the heroes have a quiet moment that lets this Secret Wars biz really sink in.

Wasp: “I’d be having tea in my studio now, Jenny... And lunch on my patio tomorrow... This... um... situation we’re in... is kind of... much, you know? I feel there’s just a little thin wall inside me holding back a flood of despair!”

Its a nice touch, if intentional, that Wasp only admits this kind of thing now that she’s passed off the leadership responsibilities to Captain America. Its been a recurring character beat that she’s been keeping these sorts of worries to herself as chairwoman.

Over in another part of the fortress, Cyclops complains that he was right in the middle of his dang honeymoon when he was yanked into this event.

Cyclops: “I don’t know about you, Richards, but more than angry or afraid, I feel cheated! I -- I was on the verge of real happiness...”

Oof. This really sets the tone for his marriage with Madelyne Pryor.

Spider-Man and the Human Torch even have a little conversation.

Spider-Man: “You mean it doesn’t shake you, Torch, being here? What if we don’t get home?”

Human Torch: “The Fantastic Four have been off on space missions a couple of times, Spider-Man! We’ll get back! Believe me!”

I like when they’re friends.

So, I’m not sure what Magneto’s plan actually was. He was going to sabotage the fortress’ fusion generator as a distraction but Spider-Man’s Spider-Sense Spider-Alerts him to shenanigans afoot and he runs off to the power plant while Johnny Storm goes to get the other heroes.

Magneto decides to abandon whatever his plan was and captures Wasp as a consolation prize.

Gasp, another prisoner of war!

The Thing tries to give chase but inexplicably turns back to normal, smooth skinned Ben Grimm.

Also, Magneto escapes with the Wasp.

It’s like the aardvark says, you can get what you want and still not be happy.

Captain Marvel is holding the randomly anti-mutant ball for Hawkeye here and comments that none of the X-Men showed up to help stop Magneto.

Cap(tain America) tells her to belay that.

Captain America: “Let’s keep our minds on solving problems, not creating more!”

And they can’t even go after Magneto or rescue the Wasp right now because they have bigger problems: Galactus glowing with an awesome power and a massive storm that’s forming on Battleworld.

July, 1984

TEMPEST WITHOUT, CRISIS WITHIN!

The Beyonder has thrown in a nice stage hazard to keep things fresh in the form of a massive storm raging on Battleworld, with lighting that shatters mountains and winds that could tear someone’s limbs clean off.

Or perhaps its the unintentional result of just slapping a planet together out of random stuff you have lying around. The climate must be shot to shit.

I like it either way. Secret Wars has a lot of very toyetic collisions between groups of characters so its nice when Battleworld itself manages to be an obstacle.

Over in his giant U-shaped fortress, Magneto finally unwraps Wasp from the ball of random metal crap he has her in.

He lets her wander around until she finds him so that he can be all casual and eating a space scone.

Magneto: “Do not bother trying to attack me, my dear! My person is magnetically shielded!”

Wasp: “Well, la-de-da!”

Wasp: -blows up his space scone- “You think I have to strike at you directly to hurt you, monster?”

Hilarious spite, thy name is Janet van Dyne.

She also makes the point that magnetic shielding or no, she could bring this whole room down. Her being able to knock over a small house with her pew pew hasn’t stopped being true.

Magneto hastens to ask her not to do that because neither of them want to be out in the storm outside.

Besides, he just wants to talk! And flirt!

Magneto: “You are obviously a woman of intelligence and understanding as well as great beauty -- and I am not the monster you believe I am -- which is precisely what I wish to discuss!”

Wasp: “Oh? My intelligence, understanding and beauty or your non-monsterhood?”

Magneto: “Why... both!”

Back at the hero base (which is apparently ROUGHLY THE SIZE OF CHICAGO?? I want that playset), the storm has almost completely flooded the area, leaving just the top dome and such poking above the water.

The storm keeps dropping chunks of mountain at the base but Thor is standing on top, protecting it while grinning like a loon.

Captain Marvel even speculates that Thor could calm the storm but is whipping it up into a greater frenzy instead. Those storm gods, amirite?

Hawkeye is also standing by, with his explosive arrow, thinking to himself that if Thor fails, Hawkeye will totally save the day.

I don’t know whether that’s sad or endearing.

Mostly though he’s trying to distract himself from thinking about the new wife he left behind.

Cap, Reed, and Hulk are watching the villain base because apparently they do know where it is. The storm is keeping the villains in too but Cap figures they’ll pull one desperate attack as soon as the storm breaks.

They’ve already lost four of their dudes. Plus, Galactus isn’t a team player.

Spider-Man is just swinging around, enjoying how good for swinging the random technological pipes and tubes and whatsits are when he stumbles upon the X-Men having a secret meeting.

Professor X has decided, possibly on the basis of two (2) rude comments from Hawkeye and Captain Marvel, that the X-Men just don’t belong here and that they’d be better off going and teaming up with Magneto.

This... sure is a take.

Rogue comments that the Avengers don’t trust her because of that time she kicked their asses collectively. Which, hey, very possibly. They haven’t really had a thing to say about you though. They’ve mostly been grouchy about Magneto.

Which is kinda born out by the way he tried to blow up their base and definitely kidnapped the Wasp?? And is even now aggressively eating scones at her?

That’s the Magneto you guys want to go join because he’s more your people than the Fantastic Avengers and friends are?

You know, there’s a pattern I sometimes see with the X-Men where they loudly insist that the other superheroes don’t help them and don’t care about mutant stuff while at the same time doing shit like this.

“Should we get Reed Richards, smartest dick in the world to help with the legacy virus or the techno-organic virus Stryfe shot into Xavier? NAHHHH Beast can handle it.”

“Should we stick with the other superheroes or go hang with Magneto instead in a cool mutants only U-shaped fortress? Well, U is the coolest letter that isn’t X...”

If you squint, you can definitely see Krakoa all the way in the future.

Anyway, Spider-Man overheard all of this and goes ‘I’M TELLING!’

Wolverine tries to tell him that snitches get stitches but the thing is?

Spider-Man is ridiculous. He’s a ridiculously good combination of skills and powers which lets him make chumps out of entire groups at a time.

He’s embarrassed the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, and now he’s about to embarrass the X-Men.

After making them all feel foolish, Spider-Man gets away and goes to tell Reed what that doody-head Xavier said when Xavier uses his psychic powers to just wipe the entire encounter out of Spider-Man’s memory.

Yeah, it’s to cover their imminent blowing off but also? I don’t think he wants anyone else to find out how badly his X-Men just got stomped.

Psychics are too OP, I tell you what.

In fairness IN FAIRNESS, the X-Men kind of have the right to fuck right off if they wish. I don’t even know what it had to be in secret. In fact, doing it in secret is a massive dick move of its own for reasons.

What would the Fantastic Avengers have done if the X-Men had just said ‘hey we’re heading out’? Would they have put them in stasis tube jail? I doubt it.

Professor X made the decision to handle this the stupidest way for whatever reason. That scamp.

Speaking of Magneto, he’s over at the U-Lair turning down a partnership offer from DOOM. So, hey, he has standards.

Wasp has become less ‘i’ll blow up this room and your breakfast’ about him over the course of whatever the hell they discussed in their offscreen chat.

Magneto even starts to make out with her and Wasp is like ehhhhhhhhhh what the fuck why not.

Why is this happening?

I guess he has a...................... magnetic personality?

Eh? Eh??

No, but seriously, I do have a theory that I heard someplace but it’ll have to wait.

What’s weird is that there’s a Marvel What If about some spinoff babies that come about if the heroes and villains got stuck on Battleworld and never managed to leave.

Wasp has a son with Human Torch. Which is pretty weird and comes from nowhere. I guess a lot can happen during a massive time skip. My point being though, its weird that they didn’t have a Wasp/Magneto baby instead given the weird chemistry they have here.

Meanwhile, over at DOOMBASE, DOOM has some women in giant tubes.

That’s So Doom.

Doctor Doom: “All is ready -- ! This alien technology, so rich, so subtle... so easily harnessed to serve my purpose... Energy, tapped from the raging tempest... And two mortal subjects who dare to gamble for power -- knowing that to lose is death, for truly, here I shall test the limits of power a human body can contain! With the throwing of a switch... so -- the die is cast! Hear me -- ! Power must be seized -- ! Crave it! Welcome it! Drink it in, despite the pain... or it will destroy you.”

And thus are Volcana and Titania created!

Talk about lasting effects of Secret Wars! Titania is going to be around forever! Mostly annoying She-Hulk!

Where did Doom find two random women to give superpowers?

Denver, Colorado.

No, seriously.

That city chunk we saw as Battleworld formed? That’s Denver, Colorado, USA, EARTH.

Why isn’t there a miniseries or one-shot about a normal ass civilian from Denver having to deal with OH MY GOD WHERE DID EARTH GO?

I actually read an interesting thing re: this scene. It exists because Mattel asked Marvel to introduce some new female characters so Shooter wrote in these two and a third who I’ll get to when I do.

Mattel then promptly used none of these characters for the associated toyline.

The toyline, in fact, used none female characters at all. It made toys of characters who weren’t in the story but did not have a single female character.

So its very weird that they asked Marvel to introduce some but I’m not going to knock the results.

Doom introduces these two new characters to the other villains.

Hilariously, Absorbing Man guesses that Doctor Doom just made women from scratch. Because doesn’t it sound like something he could do?

Volcana and Molecule Man immediately hit it off, her being attracted to his sensitivity and him being attracted to... positive attention at all, I guess?

He muses that he could easily stop the storm outside, because molecules, but his therapist told him to let nature take its course. “Unless Doom asks me to!”

And Titania and Absorbing Man. They don’t hit it off. She either wants to hit him or hit that and its not clear and it might be both.

(Spoilers: Its both)

Titania: “You! Absorbing Man! You look like the toughest man here! Get up!”

Absorbing Man: “Whatcha got in mind?”

Titania: “I’m going to do anything I want to you! Everything I always wanted to do to everybody who used to be bigger and stronger than me! Maybe I’ll just play with you... or maybe I’ll make you eat dirt... or maybe...”

Absorbing Man: “Woman, if you got somethin’ to prove, prove it tomorrow against the guys we’re fightin’!”

Titania: “You’re backing down?”

Absorbing Man: “Nope! I just ain’t getting up! I got nothin’ to prove... to a dame!”

Would you believe that they become one of the healthiest and most stable romantic relationships in Marvel?

Speaking of weird relationships, back over at hero base, Thor goes and pops the lid on Enchanteress’ healing tube because he’s bored and wants to talk to a peer. A god peer.

Enchantress is at first more characteristically worried about what her face looks like after being She-Hulked.

But she then creates a portal so she and Thor can go have a chat.

Later, it’s morning and Hulk has been too busy stressing over losing his Banner smarts to actually keep watch or wake up Cap for watch like he was supposed to.

So when the villains ram an airship into the hero base, the heroes are not at all prepared.

Titania hurls a giant slab of wall through the room the Terrific Three are sharing, breaking Johnny Torch’s arm and ribs and knocking out the other two. He manages to get himself and co out of danger by melting through the floor.

Meanwhile, She-Hulk is carrying a big heavy as she’s been doing since the previous night and is caught unaware by Volcana who blasts her off her feet and then collapses the room on top of her.

Doctor Octopus knocks out Captain Marvel who is in the hot springs dome but gets chased away by Hawkeye, claiming that long-range firepower is his weakness.

I’m stunned at the implication that Doc Ock is one of Spider-Man’s most dangerous foes but could be scared off by Hawkeye while Spider-Man could pretty easily drop Clint’s ass. There’s some rock-paper-scissors nonsense at play here.

Spider-Man and Iron Man are also taken unawares by Ultron but manage to hide under some rubble.

Hulk leaps into the fray at Molecule Man and Doom but Cap convinces him to fall back to a defensible position.

The villains reconvene with all the captured villains freed except Enchantress (since she fucked off to have a chat with Thor) and the heroes scattered and buried under various rubbles. How the fortunes of Secret War turn.

Sure would have been nice if the X-Men had been around to help or if they mentioned they wouldn’t be. Sure would have been.

Doom: “We have accomplished much here today! And to finish it, we shall level this place so that no stone remains on stone!”

No wonder Mattel didn’t make a playset of this base! Dammit Doom, you’re ruining the merchandising!

Follow @essential-avengers for more of Secret Wars! At this same pace! Its sustainable! This is fine! Like and reblog too!

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ofstarsandfireflies · 4 years

Text

Today marks the first week of our Movie Nights! And to celebrate, this one is a request by the lovely @mystical-magician ! Thank you so much!

Let’s get into it!

Labyrinth

A girl, after wishing her baby brother away, must brave the Goblin King’s labyrinth in order to get him back.

Stephen was sick of Tony.

He hated him in that moment and wasn’t thinking.

He said things he didn’t mean and opened the portal underneath him before closing it again without a thought, needing some peace from their upteenth fight that week.

It was a cruel joke to play, one he knew his old boyfriend, Loki, would approve of.

So when it becomes too quiet and the guilt starts to creep in because it was too cruel to leave Tony stranded somewhere and Stephen was better than that, he tries to bring Tony back.

But it doesn’t work.

He tries again.

Nothing.

And that when someone else’s portal opens, and when he stumbles through it into Asgard, his heart sinks.

Tony is here.

Loki is here.

And Stephen wants to be anywhere but here.

But this was his mistake, one he’ll beg for forgiveness later once Tony is safe and sound, but first he has to find him.

And that is when he is found by Loki, now King and Ruler of Asgard having sent his brother on some life threatening mission or ten to keep him preoccupied.

He likes the gift Stephen sent to him and he won’t give him up.

Loki wants to keep Tony here with him to rule by his side.

Stephen is immediately hostile and is about to do something, anything, but Loki quickly stops him.

Of course Stephen would want something in return.

So he offers him unlimited power, to make him the most feared and formidable Sorcerer in all the dimensions to ever exist.

All he has to do is walk back through the portal behind him and let Tony stay.

But Stephen refuses.

He doesn’t want power.

He wants Tony back.

And all Loki can do is laugh.

Stephen may be a Sorcerer, but he is no match for the powers of a God.

And certainly no match for his maze-like labyrinth surrounding Asgard’s castle where Tony is being held.

But Stephen still refuses to turn back.

So a smirking Loki tells him that if he can get through his labyrinth without the use of the magic he so desperately relies on, and make it to Tony before he agrees to be his bride in 13 hours when the wedding will be held, then he will allow Tony to leave with him.

If not, if Stephen breaks any of these rules or cheats in any way, he will be returning home alone.

Stephen, of course, agrees.

He waits until Loki leaves and quickly tells the cloak to find Tony.

He watches it fly away towards the castle and sets out on foot.

Tony wakes up in a lavish room, with Loki watching him sleep like some sort of creeping vampire on those romance novels he may or may not read.

Loki is charming, sincere, and even though he’s not as power hungry as he was when Tony first fought him, Tony still doesn’t trust him.

And when Loki asks him to marry him, Tony’s brain takes a few seconds to process this out of the blue question.

When he can get his mind and mouth to work as one again, he refuses.

Loki tells him they will be married whether Tony likes it or not, and locks him in the room.

He’s rather liking this game.

And getting back at Stephen Strange for leaving him.

As Stephen is progressing into the labyrinth, he meets Skurge.

Skurge, under Loki’s orders, deceives Stephen into making him take a wrong turn, causing Stephen to become lost even more than he already is and fall down into an oubliette under the labyrinth, where there are countless portals that can drop you somewhere you might not want to go.

Feeling guilty about this, Skurge goes after him and agrees to help Stephen on his way to the castle.

And as soon as they’re out, Loki is there, angry with Skurge and telling him he “had one job!” and suspicious that Skurge is trying to betray him.

After Skurge is rendered silent from the threat of being executed, Loki immediately closes in on Stephen, wanting to know if he’s enjoying the labyrinth.

And Stephen takes a moment to answer.

It’s been a while since he and Loki were this close.

So he tells him it’s a piece of cake.

Loki has always liked Stephen’s dry humour.

He even tells him so before he summons a Leviathan to up the stakes, seeming how Stephen’s finding it too easy.

Running for their lives, they manage to get out before they’re eaten, Stephen fuming that he’s useless without his magic.

Skurge leads him to a garden part of the labyrinth, surprised they’d made it out alive, and even more that Stephen helped him after he betrayed him.

Skurge hasn’t had a friend before, and is thinking that maybe he and Stephen could be friends when they hear a loud roar that frightens him to the point of abandoning Stephen to fend for himself.

Skurge only looks out for one person and that person is Skurge.

But once again, as he’s making his way out of this maze, that guilt comes back.

He can’t just leave Stephen to be killed here.

He’s Skurge’s friend.

He turns to go after him and sees Loki standing behind him.

Watching, smiling, knowing his intentions.

He has something for Skurge to give to Stephen.

It’s a Golden Apple.

However, this one has a little touch of Loki’s magic underneath it’s peel.

Once Skurge gives it to Stephen, and he WILL give it to Stephen, then the Sorcerer will forget all about Tony.

He’ll forget everything about everything and wander the labyrinth forever.

Skurge, reluctantly, agrees.

Stephen finally finds the owner of all the roaring he’s been hearing, rounding a corner to see Hulk, who has been captured.

He is hanging upside down and is being tormented by some of Loki’s more cruel guards.

Stephen, trying to think of a way to help him without his magic, finds a large stone and throws it at a ceramic pot, breaking it and startling the guards into finding who could be around, making them leave Hulk alone.

Hulk thinks Stephen is there to torment him more, but fortunately for him, Stephen is there to free him.

Unfortunately though, Hulk doesn’t know the way to the castle.

Tony is being kept in his room, the draws pulled out and all the gifts Loki has tried using to get to his heart strewn all over the place, everything turned upside down as he’s searched and searched for something he can use, anything he might be able to build, to get out of here.

He’s thought about making a rope ladder with every piece of cloth he can find but the only window is too small for him to climb through.

There is nothing in this room that could produce a large enough blast to make it bigger either, and he’s starting to think that maybe the only way out is to accept Loki’s proposal and then make a run for it somehow.

And then he gets a visitor.

It’s Stephen’s cloak, hovering outside his window.

He lets it in and it encases him in a hug.

He holds the collar to his nose, breathing in Stephen’s scent.

Stephen is here and he’s coming for him.

Tony just needs a little patience and wait for him.

But he doesn’t know how much longer that will be.

And he doesn’t know what will happen to him when that time is up.

Stephen and Hulk are wandering through a dense forest that is somehow part of this labyrinth when everything suddenly goes quiet.

They both look around, staying silent, waiting for whatever is watching them to show itself.

And it does.

But it’s not just one it.

It’s an entire Chitauri army.

Hulk runs into battle to protect Stephen, who runs in the opposite direction.

But his running leads him to a dead end and some of the Chitauri have followed him.

Luckily, Skurge drops him a rope and Hulk leaps up to meet them, causing the ground beneath them to open up. But instead of dropping them into another oubliette, they instead fall into a hidden portal, which takes them to the bifrost, and to where Heimdall awaits them.

Past Heimdall is the rainbow bridge. And beyond the bridge are the gates to the castle.

Heimdall wants to help them and lets them pass, deciding to join them for the last leg of their journey.

Loki is rather surprised with how far they have gotten, and who they now have leading them to the castle.

But he knows Skurge won’t fail him.

That he’ll do as he says.

He has no backbone to do anything else.

And so, half way across the bridge as Hulk and Heimdall carry on ahead without them incase anyone decides to attack, Skurge gives Stephen the Golden Apple.

Grateful for something to eat after 12 hours without food and all he’s been through, Stephen takes a bite.

It tastes...weird.

Skurge backs away from him, apologising over and over as Stephen tries to ask him what he’s done and why he’s done it, trying to focus as his friend runs back to the bifrost and a new figure walks toward him.

It’s Loki.

Loki was...

Was?

No, is his boyfriend, his lover.

No one else could ever compare.

Loki reaches for him and Stephen doesn’t pull away, the cloak of levitation appearing in his hands as he returns it around Stephen’s shoulders.

But once he has, Loki doesn’t move.

And neither does Stephen.

He’s always liked being held by Lony... Loki.

He’d been searching for something, something he’d lost, and now he’s found it.

It was Loki he was searching for...right? That sounds right but he can’t quite remember.

Loki’s blue vibrant eyes suddenly become a deep brown.

Stephen blinks, and they’re back to normal.

Loki leans in to kiss him and there’s the scrape of facial hair against his skin that has him pulling away before their lips meet.

But when he looks at him, it’s gone.

Something is wrong.

Loki wasn’t who he was searching for.

It was...it was...

Stephen stares at Loki as his entire form shifts into a beautiful man with short brown hair and brown eyes with a body built for sin, and Stephen reaches for this man.

This is who he was searching for.

The man holds him, but he knows it isn’t the real him. That the touch still belongs to Loki.

Tony is far more softer in his touches than Loki ever was.

Stephen pushes him away, Loki bursting out laughing as he returns to his own form, mocking Stephen at how he was almost deceived.

And how Stephen has lost.

Stephen could only pull out of that powerful magic if he used magic of his own.

Now he will return to his world and Tony will stay here.

But Stephen just smiles as Hulk and Heimdall stand beside him.

He got through the labyrinth without the use of magic, which is what Loki had stated.

Besides, Loki’s magic must be pretty weak if love can break through it.

Loki vanishes with a sneer, leaving them to deal with the Destroyer, who could very well keep to his name sake and destroy the rainbow bridge they’re all standing on.

Stephen could fly himself to the castle with the cloak, but Hulk and Heimdall will be left behind.

The castle doors open and an army of undead warriors march out to stand behind the Destroyer.

Stephen sees the look on his friends’ faces, knows they’re more than prepared to go down fighting to help him.

And that is when Skurge arrives just in time with a friend.

Thor is there to help them.

They all stand on the bridge as the Destroyer and the Draugr block their way to the castle.

Thor is looking forward to this fight, and for the one that is sure to follow after with his brother.

As his friends run into battle, the cloak picks Stephen up and flies him over the battle, an arrow ripping the cloak off his shoulders just as he reaches the castle doors.

He has barely half an hour left to get to Tony.

But the inside of the castle is just as much a labyrinth as the outside of it was; never-ending staircases leading to dead ends as he and Tony both try to get to one another, Loki playing games with the two of them until Stephen has had enough and corners the God of mischief.

And Loki finally reveals that he did all of this for Stephen.

So they could be together again.

That everything he has put Stephen through, every horrible word and life threatening situation, was his way of showing him he wanted him back.

And Stephen is not buying it.

He’s moved on.

Loki will never mean as much to him as Tony does.

Thor, Hulk, Skurge and Heimdall stand behind him having fought their way through to him and the cloak rests on Stephen’s shoulders and blows out behind him intimidatingly, and Loki finally realises he has been defeated.

Stephen and Tony are reunited and while Tony is definitely going to start a fight with him when they get home, he decides to put it off for now.

Holding him is much more important.

Quotes -

“It doesn’t look that far.”

“It’s further than you think. Time is short.”

Stephen trying to act strong in front of his ex.

“No, I’m doing okay.”

“Of course you are. But it gets a lot worse from here on in.”

“Why are you so concerned about me?”

“Well, I am, that’s all. Nice, young girl. Terrible, black oubliette.”

Stephen and Skurge when he’s trying to be nice.

“Well, if it isn’t you. And uh, where are you going?”

“Uh, uh. Well, the little lady gave me the slip but I hears her now. So I was just about to lead her back to the beginning like you told me.”

“I see. For one moment I thought you were running to help her. But no, not after my warnings that would be stupid.”

“Oh, you bet it would! Me? Help her after your warnings?”

Loki knows how to intimidate Skurge into doing what he wants.

“Sarah, beware. I have been generous up until now, and I can be cruel.”

“Generous? What have you done that’s generous?”

“Everything! Everything that you wanted, I have done. You asked for the child to be taken. I took him. You cowered before me. I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”

Loki’s warped thinking of how to impress Stephen leaves much to be desired.

Winner takes it all

Stephen has made a mistake, one that has put both him and Tony at the mercy of the God of mischief.

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6

#ironstrange #OSAF’s Movie Night #strangeiron

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cartoonsaint · 4 years

Text

Luka Gets a Tattoo

[Ao3]

thanks to the AFiT server for enabling me! zero thanks to those who were trying to get me to give him a tramp stamp -- you get nothing, good day sirs

Summary: the prince can have little a bodily autonomy. as a treat Characters: the Prince (pre-Snatcher) Rating: T for college parties, altered states, poor coping mechanisms, and reference to an unhealthy relationship.

Just one night, then you’ll have the whole weekend to study for the final exam, they said.

Please, Your Majesty? Indulge your classmates just this once? they said.

It’ll be fun, they said.

And goodness gracious, Luka thinks as his hooting classmates tilt the tapped barrel of red wine so the last drops of it spill onto his tongue, were they right.

He pumps his fists straight up in the air and the room, already packed with raucous, sweaty, excitable (and very, very drunk) young adults, goes wild. Two — rather, four — no, six? Oh goodness he’s had a lot to drink — an at-present uncountable number of hands reach down and haul him off the floor to toss him, unexpectedly, into the air. Luka can’t help the yelp that escapes out of his mouth as his sloshing stomach flips, nor the laughter that comes after it when many hands catch him and set him back on solid ground, patting his back companionably all the while.

“ALL HAIL THE PARTY KING,” someone shouts, and the crowd takes up the chant. Luka’s used to having a lot of eyes on him, has been literally trained since he was a toddler to be in the public spotlight, but the energy of the crowd and the alcohol in his own system has him pressing his hands to his burning face to muffle his embarrassed laughter.

A madly grinning and particularly beefy young woman parts her fellow students like a ship cutting through the sea. Luka’s gaze is drawn to the item she holds reverently in her enormous hands — and he bursts into laughter again, shaking his head and attempting to back away. The circle of cheering party-goers around him clumsily link arms to prevent his escape. “I didn’t even drink the whole thing!” Luka protests, flapping his hands. “It was practically empty before I started!”

But the huge woman easily spans his slim shoulders (with one hand — goodness gracious) and hauls Luka in. She clears her throat with impressive projection — Luka’s background in performing arts nods in approval — and the clamor of the room dulls to near-bearable levels.

“Esteemed guests and revelers,” she pronounces with minimal slurring and maximal gravity, “I present to you: this evening’s Party King.”

The room cheers as she places the cut-and-taped paper crown atop Luka’s head. His first, honest impulse is to pull it off and take a closer look as it seems to be made out of first-year sample contracts and, well, it’s been some time since he last reviewed those and who knows what will turn up on the final exam? But the exuberantly drunk woman seizes his hand and yanks it into the air like he’s just won a prize fight and someone thrusts a tiny glass of something that smells vile in his hand and he loses track of time for a bit.

When his head, the room, and the kaleidoscope of gleeful faces stop spinning, Luka finds himself squashed between the arm of a lumpy couch and the arm of the enormous muscled woman from earlier. She notices his gaze and offers him a shark-like grin that jogs his memory.

“You’re Natasha,” he blurts out, and then immediately claps a hand over his mouth because of course she is, you fool, she knows that and you ought to have known that, what kind of a person forgets the name of someone they’ve spent years sharing classes with —

But if anything, her grin widens. She turns to the duo sat across from them and says, “Ha! You see?”

“I’m so sorry,” Luka says, pressing a hand to his burning face. He doesn’t usually drink at all, and not just because it makes him extra stupid. He’d normally have spent the night studying or writing letters, but his classmates had been very convincing and tonight is his last chance to spend time with them before the final exam and graduation (and his tutor had threatened him if he didn’t go). “I promise I know who you are, I just didn’t recognize you at first without, ah,” he looks again at her rather… distracting arms, “sleeves.”

“Relax,” says one of her friends. She’s a dark-skinned woman with a ton of dark curls framing her face — Belle, Luka remembers — and she smiles kindly as she passes him a glass of water. He thanks her profusely and she rolls her eyes good-naturedly, leaning back and crossing her arms. She raises an eyebrow at her hulking blonde friend. “Tash does it on purpose — thinks it will make her more effective in the courtroom when she takes her jacket off. Besides, she forgot you were already royalty.”

Natasha grins unrepentantly. “Party King trumps any small-town monarch, Belle. Besides, you really expect me to remember details like that about someone I only ever see in class?”

Luka sinks into the couch, stammering apologies, but the woman laughs and claps a lung-clearing hand to his back — he wheezes, attempting to regain his breath. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. You can make it up to me by telling us what you’re like! We’ve been in the same course for years and we hardly know you. What mysterious responsibilities keep you so busy you can’t come out for a night, Mr. top-of-the-class?”

“W-well,” he says, immediately falling into his practiced lines, “of course, my studies here are very important to me as a future leader of—”

“We already know you’re a nerd,” the last figure of the group says matter-of-factly. Their name eludes him, but they’re button-nosed, with hair pulled back in a ponytail that looks much sleeker than Luka’s ever managed his own. “What else?”

“Haz,” Belle scolds, but when her friend raises a single, archly amused eyebrow at her she sends Luka an apologetic grin. “Sorry about them, they were raised by extremely rude wolves.”

Luka snorts, then covers his mouth in embarrassment, but no one seems to mind. “I… have a fiancée?” he shyly offers.

“What!!” Natasha swaps his water out for her scarily large flagon of beer. “Drink and dish!”

Luka sips obediently, aware his face is already red and only getting redder. “Her name is Vanessa.”

Natasha sighs dreamily, which makes Belle giggle. Luka grins, feeling a little dreamy himself — thinking about Vanessa always makes the rest of the world feel dull. She stands out to him like fine embroidery on plain linen. “I hate to be away from her — she misses me when I’m gone, and my life certainly isn’t as bright without her in it. I write her letters everyday,” he says, alcohol freeing him to talk about himself a little more than he could otherwise stand. “She gets upset if I don’t. I love her, of course, and there’s nothing more important to me than her happiness, but… well, between all the letter-writing, my studies, and princely duties, I suppose there’s not been much time for, ah. Much else.”

He trails off and takes a gulp of lukewarm beer. Belle and Natasha glance at each other, communicating something past Luka’s current ability to parse. Haz leans forward, their eyebrows drawn down.

“So you don’t get to do anything just because you like it? Just for yourself?”

“I like being a prince,” Luka protests immediately. “It’s my duty, and an honor to serve my people. And I love Vanessa.” Luka thinks, briefly, of how hurt she would be if she knew someone had suggested he didn’t, how her magic might react beyond her control. He shivers, even in the stuffiness of the crowded room. “Compared to those things, I’m just… well, not very important.”

The group exchanges looks that Luka hardly notices. Who would he even be, without his work and without her? “Not important” seems about right.

“Well, if you say it’s what you want, then I’m happy for you!” Natasha announces, sounding a little strained. Belle hums noncommittally and swaps his drink out again for another glass of water.

“So,” says Haz, and offers him a small, genuine smile that Luka finds himself quite touched by — must be the alcohol in his system making him even more emotional than usual. “Besides your duties and your fiancée… what else do you like?”

“Ah,” he says, and presses a hand again to his warm face. This evening, right now, is probably the first time in years that Luka’s had a chance to do anything for himself, and he had to be bullied into it. Surely there’s something he likes to do besides, er, read law reviews for fun? His mind is blank. He seizes, only a little frantically, on the view of the night sky out the window. “A-astronomy! You know, the stars?” He chuckles nervously and takes another huge sip of his drink. “You can, ah, actually see them much better at home than here in the city. I used to know all the constellations.”

“That’s great,” Belle says firmly and kindly. “I don’t know anything about the stars, but I always wanted to.”

“My ancestors used to navigate by them,” Natasha adds. “That’s very cool knowledge.”

“What else?” Haz prompts quietly.

“Um,” Luka says into his cup. “Well, ah. I suppose I always liked animals? Like, snakes, and things…”

“That’s great!” Natasha exclaims.

“Great,” Bella says again.

“Hm,” says Haz.

“JIM!!” someone hollers, breaking the tense air of the group. “And Jim’s friend!! SOMEONE GET THIS MAN A FLAGON!”

“Hoho, Jim and friend!!” Natasha exclaims, mood immediately forgotten. “I’ve been meaning to get some work done, bee-arr-bee.” She rises from the couch, claps Luka’s shoulder once again (though considerably more softly this time, thank goodness), and sails through the crowd, on towards the new arrivals.

“Wait, no—!” Belle shoves herself to her feet, then glances at Luka and hesitates. Then, brief and tight, she hugs him — he blinks, startled — but separates herself before he can process it and gives him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, gotta go stop her. Tash, wait!!” And off she goes after her tall friend.

Luka watches her go. Haz clears their throat. “Jim’s friend is magic. Does tattoos,” they say.

“Ah,” says Luka. He should probably head home — he’d planned to leave early in the morning so he could spend as much of the weekend with Vanessa as possible. She needs him, especially after the accident with her mother. He can spend the rest of his evening studying, like he should have done in the first place — it’s the responsible, prudent thing to do.

Haz nudges his knee with their own. He looks up to find them offering a mug of something that smells strongly of alcohol. “You’re allowed to do things just for yourself, you know,” they say, eyes soft.

In a spontaneous move that shocks even himself, Luka takes the mug and downs it in one go. The world gets a little blurrier, a little easier to deal with.

“You know, you’re absolutely right,” he says determinedly and pours himself another.

***

Luka wakes up just after sunrise with a pounding headache, a stinging thigh, and the deep dread of knowing he’s done something he shouldn’t have.

The first thing he does is stumble into the bathroom. His reflection has mussed hair, tired eyes, and is still wearing a crumpled paper crown on his head. He snatches it off, balling it up and tossing it on his desk before running the water and pressing his forehead to the cool mirror.

This isn’t exactly why he doesn’t drink, but it’s an excellent point against it. What he remembers of last night makes him wish he’d had enough to totally block out what he’d done to himself. Though he supposes that would be worse, to wake up and only then find out he’d drunkenly gotten a…

Luka dutifully goes through his morning routine. He doesn’t look at his stinging thigh, doesn’t even think about it until he’s toweled off and staring down at the clothes a cheerfully drunk version of himself had prepared the night before. That Luka had even packed him a travel bag so he could set off for Subcon and Vanessa more quickly.

That well-meaning fool had really thought he was doing a favor for sober Luka of the future. Ooo, hungover Luka of the present hates him.

He stands there for a moment longer, feeling frayed and stupid and sorry for himself. Finally, he sighs — there’s no use to just waiting here hoping — and drops the towel enough to check the damage.

On the side of his thigh, perfectly placed for his non-dominant hand to cover when hanging loosely by his side, is a tattoo of a snake so black the ink looks nearly purple. It wraps around a stylized crown decorated with a crescent moon and a few stars. It’s a kingsnake, he remembers — he’d been adamant about getting that one because they were constrictors, not venomous. “They just want to hug!” drunk Luka had explained, tearing up.

Luka now allows himself one long groan, burying his face in his hands. He’s blown it. He’s totally screwed himself. His parents and his people won’t care, but Vanessa is going to kill him.

He can just imagine her distress that he would do something like this without her knowledge or say-so. Maybe he could fix it if he proposed they get matching tattoos, but she has no fondness for snakes and he’s rather certain you’re supposed to get matching tattoos together. She’s going to find out, she’s going to be hurt, and it’s going to be all Luka’s fault.

Fool, he thinks miserably.

Fifteen minutes he spends experiencing every possible variation on denial, anger, and depression before he can no longer justify wasting time like this. Vanessa is waiting for him and if he wants the time to properly apologize to her then he had better leave sooner rather than later.

Luka gets dressed and scowlingly seizes up his travel bag. He makes his bed and shuts the door to his bathroom. He reorganizes the papers on his desk and is about to toss out the crumpled paper crown before he stops, shoulders tight.

He made a monumentally foolish mistake last night. But despite that… he thinks about the delighted support offered by Tash, Belle, and Haz when he had decided to stay longer at the party; about how freeing it’d been to not worry for a little while about how terribly Vanessa might be feeling without him; about how light and filled with possibility the world seemed without the weight of his kingdom on his mind.

It had been, truly, quite a nice night.

Luka sighs and flattens out the crumpled crown. He folds it neatly and files it away with the rest of his papers.

He’ll buy flowers for Vanessa on the way home. Maybe it will help.

#a hat in time #the prince (ahit)#ahit #saint writes #otm fic #feat. 3 chars who #probably aren't mu bow n hat #but were good practice for them!#tattoos

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halfway-happyyy · 5 years

Text

Come Away With Me

AN: This a slow burn y’all! Will be writing a part 2 so keep your eyes peeled.

Basically you had the misfortune of marrying one of Hawkins sleaziest men, but when Jim Hopper enters your life, you realize that everything really does happen for a reason, and every choice has a consequence.

Much anticipated smut at the end of the rainbow.

Word count: 4k+

You were brought into this world with a fire burning in your soul, or so the story goes.

Your mother swore until the day she died that she could feel it in you before she had even known she was pregnant. “It’s going to propel you towards magnificent things my girl,” She had whispered to you as a child. “But you must do everything in your power to keep it going as strong and bright as ever.” She had tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s going to keep you alive.”

You noticed him almost immediately upon arrival at Hawkins city hall; a hulking, foreboding figure leant against the far wall of the building. One foot was propped up behind him for support, and you watched in awe as he reached into the pocket of his shirt, produced a cigarette and lighter, and lit it. You followed your husband of ten years to your assigned table and reached for the water glass above your empty plate. “And who might that be?”

Larry Kline glanced up from the program in his hand and followed your gaze to the man across the room. He guffawed loudly, shaking his head and returning to the pamphlet in his hand. “That is who the Hawkins Police department saw fit to make their chief.” He scoffed again and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Stay away from him if you can help it… That man is a parasite on the name of law enforcement. An absolute animal of a human being, if you will.”

The dinner, like almost all the ones you were expected to attend, was drawn out and excruciatingly dull. You eyed the watch on the underside of your wrist and sighed heavily when the clock still read 8:07 P. You expected to be here another hour at least, making face and telling stories. All of it was exhausting if you were honest with yourself. And it wasn’t like you weren’t aware of what you were getting yourself into when you married Larry- you had met him on the campaign trail, after all. But you were starting to think that there was something more to life than the one you were currently living.

“Larry!”

You were thrown from your thoughts at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and a large hand reached out to clasp your husbands shoulder. Larry startled in his seat and turned to eye the man behind him. You watched, mildly amused, as Larry stood up to greet the chief of police, a broad beam in place on his face. “Jim! What a nice surprise!”

Jim Hopper towered over your husband in every way imaginable. Where Larry was in relatively good shape for his age, Jim was paunchy, his biceps bulged from beneath the sleeves of his shirt. He was bearded, and even in the low light of the room, you could see the glint of something else in the depths of his blue eyes. You ignored the way it caused the breath the catch in your throat. “Yeah, yeah… Figured I’d come out and keep an eye on the party. You know how some of these folks can get after a few choice cocktails…” He scratched absentmindedly at the back of his head.

Larry laughed loudly at this; a shrill and utterly bogus sound that made you cringe inwardly. “Ah but surely the chief of police has better things to be doing this evening, no?” You knew your husband well enough to know that he wanted that one to sting but if it did, Jim never let it show. “Have you met my wife?” Larry offered quite suddenly.

Jim’s gaze travelled to yours and he smiled warmly at you. This simple act alone caused goosebumps to rise in patterns along your arms. “Nope, I have not yet had the pleasure.” You held your hand out for him to shake, which he accepted graciously. You were struck silly by the size and the warmth of it, and it caused you to shiver involuntarily into the touch. When Jim pulled away from you, it was to grab another cigarette from his pocket. He placed it between his lips and bent his heads towards your husband. “I will leave you two be… Take it easy Lar,” You couldn’t help but notice Larry’s wilted smile. Jim turned back to you as he lit the cigarette. “Lovely to meet you Mrs. Kline.”

“And you as well,” You murmured almost inaudibly.

You watched his figure disappear from the room as Larry turned back in his seat and deposited the rest of the wine into his open mouth. “What a goddamn creep.”

How ironic, you thought with a smirk and smoothed the front of your skirt down.

You were young when you first crossed paths with Larry Kline, and there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t wish things could have been different in any way. He had been an entirely other person then; sweet, and soft-spoken... had had possessed an innocence that simply made it difficult to see him running for mayor of a town. But then life changes, and people change too, and Larry had been no different.

“I am going to be home late tonight, darling.” Larry announced a week later, over coffee at breakfast. He held the newspaper up to his face, unwilling to meet your gaze. “Don’t wait up for me. There’s quite a lot going on at the office and such, and I will have Candice grab some food for me there.” You physically recoiled at the mere mention of her name, and the audacity that this man possessed was simply beyond your comprehension. She was ten years Larry’s junior and having any semblance of a conversation with her was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could see the attraction Larry felt for her; she was young, pretty, fit, and she couldn’t string together a comprehensive sentence. She was barely out of high school.

“That sounds fine Larry. Thanks for letting me know.”

On the rare days when you didn’t have to spend ninety percent of your energy pretending to be someone you weren’t, you painted. It had started out as a hobby when you were young; you watched your mother do it and you simply glommed onto it for dear life. It had been something of a reprieve for you, and whenever you had time to pick it back up, you did so with immense happiness. You had just left the store, bags of gorgeous new oil paints and clean canvasses tucked away in your trunk. You hummed along contentedly to the song on the radio, visions of what you were about to create danced around your mind. The sound of a distant siren floated in on the wind through your open window. You glanced uneasily through the rearview mirror, the red and blue lights from the cop’s truck behind you were almost blinding. “What the…” You frowned down at your speedometer, signaled right and pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. The truck stopped a few yards behind you, and you watched with wide eyes as Jim Hopper exited the vehicle and made his way over to you.

He was clad in his beige uniform; the stifling July sun beat down on him hard as you took note of the sweat stains spreading steadily beneath his arms. “Well, well, well…” He clicked his tongue as he bent his head down to speak to you. Subtle scents of cologne and cigarette smoke caused an unfamiliar sensation to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kline.” He lifted the aviators from his eyes and pulled a pad of paper from his back pocket. “Can I have your license and registration please?”

It was extremely bright out and you shielded your hand over your eyes as you peered up at him. This man had to have better things to be doing than pulling you over. “Can I ask what this is about? I don’t think I was speeding…”

“You weren’t.” He confirmed. “I need your documents.” You reached into the glove compartment and handed the paperwork to him wordlessly. “Mrs. Kline you were pulled over this afternoon because you have a broken left taillight.”

Silence hung heavy in the air before you, the only other sounds were the whoosh of the cars speeding past. “I’m sorry?” You asked again, as if you hadn’t heard him right.

Jim sighed and gestured to the back of your car. “Your taillight is broken. Here in Hawkins, it’s illegal to operate a vehicle when a taillight isn’t working.” He scrubbed a large hand down the length of his bearded face and continued. “This will fall under what’s called a non-moving violation. It carries with it a fine and you will have up to one month to get taillight seen to- do you comply?”

You rolled your eyes despite yourself and nodded your head. “I guess I have to.”

Jim tilted his head back and elicited a hearty guffaw. “It ain’t so bad. I have it on good authority that your husband makes pretty good money… I’m sure he’ll help you out.”

You were taken aback at this, your cheeks burned red as you thought of what to say in reply. “You don’t know anything about us and you sure as hell don’t know anything about me. I will pay this asinine ticket, and I will pay it myself thank you very much.”

Jim pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and nodded his head in finality, a small smirk in place on his features. “Well alright then, Mrs. Kline. I’ll be seeing you around.” He handed you the ticket through the window which you accepted rather begrudgingly.

“Not bloody likely.” You murmured under your breath as you watched him saunter back to his truck. You allowed yourself one last look at the broad plains of his back and shoulders and of the rounded curves of his ass, and shoved your car back into drive.

Normally you made a habit of saying no when you were invited out to spend time with friends, but when Elaine Green called you up and asked if you wanted to have a few drinks at the local bar that evening, you were more than happy to oblige her. You already knew that Larry wasn’t coming home, you could vent to her about your preposterous ticket and the man who issued it to you, and then you could go back home and continue painting.

“A double gin and tonic please,” You told the bartender and turned to Elaine, whose eyes were wide and glittering in the dank light of the bar.

“A double hey? Rough day?” She asked sympathetically. Elaine was the wife of one of Larry’s closest friends in the city, and you and she had acquired a special bond of sorts over the years.

You thanked the bartender and squeezed the lime into the drink, sucking the rest of the overly tart juice from your thumb and forefinger. “Uh yep… You could say that.” You had just begun to go into detail, when suddenly Elaine’s gaze travelled to the person standing behind you and lit right up.

“Hello chief!” She beamed up brightly at him, lifting her glass of Malbec in greeting.

Your stomach sank as you turned on your barstool to see him. “Evening Mrs. Green,” He turned to you and winked. “Evening Mrs. Kline.”

Elaine excused herself from the counter to use the washroom, as you slugged back the rest of your drink. You slapped the glossy wooden top twice to signal another and turned to eye Jim suspiciously. “I do believe you are following me.”

Jim scoffed and took a sip of his beer. “Hawkins is small. We’re bound to run into each other. Say,” He murmured. “How did you get here tonight?”

“I hitchhiked.” You offered listlessly. It was a moment before Jim got the joke and began to laugh loud and hard. It was contagious, the alcohol had started to seep into your veins, and you found yourself laughing along too. “I didn’t hitchhike,” You offered after you had contained yourself. “And I didn’t drive my car with the broken taillight either, because I know that’s why you asked in the first place.”

Jim milled this over and shrugged complacently. “Sounds good. Can I buy you a drink?”

Elaine had returned from the washroom just before you were about to say no. “Well,” She sighed and clocked the watch on her wrist. “I should get going… Janey will be up with the rising sun in no time.” She fished into her purse and placed a twenty-dollar bill on the counter for the bartender. She turned to you, car keys dangling from the tip of a manicured finger. “You ready to go? You want a ride?”

“I’ll take her home, Mrs. Green.” Jim suddenly offered up. He drained the last of the amber liquid into his open mouth and turned to you. “If that’s alright?”

Elaine eyed you to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah, that sounds fine. You go on home Elaine, and I’ll catch up with you later in the week.” Elaine smiled graciously at the both of you and left.

Jim immediately took the stool to your right and sat down. When the bartender asked if he wanted another one, he simply smiled and shook his head politely. “That’s awfully nice of you to offer to take me home.” You picked absentmindedly at a chipped patch of paint on your nail.

Jim shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing on the go this evening.” The bartender approached you again and Jim simply said, “Anything the lady wants.” You ordered another gin and tonic. Best not to mix it up too much. You found yourself happy in the haze of your alcohol induced buzz; you were warm, and comfortable, and talking with Jim was as effortless as breathing. “What are you doing with the rest of your night?” He asked after a while.

You traced your fingertip around the rim of the glass, reveling in the feel of his gaze on you. It was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol flowing through you… almost. “I am painting tonight.”

“Painting?” Hopper quirked an eyebrow in question.

“Mhm… painting. I like to do it in my spare time.”

Jim cleared his throat. “And what kind of painting do you like to do?”

You closed your eyes and smiled; images of the canvases you’d created swam past your eyes like a blurry movie. “All kinds. Still lifes, models, nature landscapes, you name it. I’ve been going for a while.”

You sat in silence for a few minutes, you felt lightheaded and content. “So, if I were to drive by your house, and it was late in the evening, but your light is on… I should assume you’re painting?” He asked.

You grinned at him. It was a silly sort of look that made him beam right back at you. “Yeah, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet.”

Jim could tell you were growing ever more inebriated- perhaps it was the glassy look to your eyes or the way that your words fell from your lips jumbled and quick, and set down forty dollars. “Shall I take you home now?”

Though you had wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment for an indefinite amount of time, you knew that it was getting late. But more than that, you knew that you lived in small enough town, and that if you weren’t careful people would talk. “Yes, please Jim.”

The ride back your house was mostly silent, save for the muted sound of the radio in the background and Jim’s intermittent tapping on the steering wheel. The crescent moon hung low in the sky and cast an opalescent glow over the street in front of your home. “This is it,” You murmured when Jim had rolled up in front of it.

He shifted the gear into park and squinted up at the house. “No one’s home?”

You cleared your throat and shook your head. “Larry had to work late… probably be home in a couple of hours or so.” You sensed that Jim had about as good a time believing that as you did.

“Well then,” He stopped and fixed his gaze directly on you. It caused the breath to catch in your throat, and you were shocked when something deep inside you stirred. “It was an absolute pleasure to see you this evening, Mrs. Kline.” He unbuckled his seat belt, got out of the car, and made his way around to your side of the door. He walked you up to your porch and leaned in so close to you that you could practically taste the cologne he had on. It made your head spin even more than it already currently was, and for an entirely different reason.

“The uh… The pleasure was all mine.” You offered up easily.

He turned to leave and smiled back at you. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around again… Happy painting.”

The effect with which Jim Hopper had on you was all-consuming and quite frankly astounding. You had gone to sleep that night, entirely unable to focus on painting, but extremely able to focus on almost every aspect of him. It was his warmth, the inflect in his voice when he spoke to you and the feeling that came along with being in his presence; like basking under the last few golden rays of a late summer day.

About a week later, and over coffee and croissants like usual, Larry informed you that he would be late again that evening. “That’s fine… I have taken to painting again in the spare room.”

“Sounds great honey.” He had offered up rather mindlessly.

You had cooked yourself a nice little dinner; roasted chicken, fresh garden vegetables with herbs and butter and some mashed potatoes to finish it off. There were currently three new bottles of wine on your wine rack that friends had dropped off for Larry that he was never around to drink anyway, so you uncorked them called them yours. You tied your hair back and threw on one of Larry’s old plaid shirts that he wouldn’t miss and set to work in front of your easel. You were two glasses of wine in when the doorbell rang rather unexpectedly. You set your flat brush down and frowned up at the clock on the wall which read 8:17 pm. You stood from your stool and padded down the hallway, taking tentative steps down your spiral staircase. You stood on tiptoes and peered uneasily through the peephole in your door. You gasped in surprise when you saw that it was Jim on the other side. Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you smoothed down your ponytail, straightened your paint-encrusted shirt and opened the door.

“Good evening Mrs. Kline…” Jim took note of your attire and cocked his head to the side. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

You shook your head. “Not at all, I just finished dinner and was starting to uh… to paint.” You stood in the doorway, awkwardly regarding each other. “Would you like to come in?” You offered.

“That would be great.” Jim bent his head low and ducked into the doorway, planting both feet firmly in the rug of your front foyer.

You ushered him into your kitchen and offered him a seat at the island. “Please feel free to call me by my name, by the way. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? I think I’ve got a few bottles of beer at the back of the fridge…” You were entirely too nervous, and could feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle in discomfort.

Jim smiled graciously and shook his head. “I’m uh… I’m good, thank you.” He leant forward and reached into the back pocket of his jeans. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by to drop this off for you.” He slid a small piece of paper towards you. “It’s the name and number of a guy here in town who would be happy to fix up your taillight for you at a pretty reasonable cost.”

You picked up the paper and deposited it into the front pocket of your shirt. “Thanks Jim… I really appreciate that.” You were silent for a few moments before you remembered the leftover food you’d put away only an hour before. “Are you hungry at all? I definitely made too much chicken for dinner.”

Jim shook his head. “Sounds delicious, but I already ate before I came here.” You were about to say something else when he cleared his throat. “May I…. Uh, see some of your paintings?”

Your immediate response was to say no. Larry had never taken an interest in your art, and you had never showed it to anyone, so it was natural for you to be somewhat self-conscious about it. Yet you found yourself agreeing to it. “Sure… follow me,” You made your way silently up the stairs to the spare bedroom. “Watch your step,” you murmured and threw a glance back at Jim as he followed along behind you. “Here it is…” You pushed open the door and watched wide eyed as Jim stepped into the room and peered around.

He was silent as he stepped around discarded brushes and splotches of paint. He stopped in front of a piece by the window and your cheeks grew hotter the longer he continued to stare at it. “These uh… these are breathtaking.”

You swallowed hard and walked over the few paces to join him where he stood. “Thanks Jim.” You watched with baited breath as he traced a fingertip gently over the raised bumps of dried paint.

He turned to you, blue eyes wide and glittering in the light of the room. “I’m serious. You’ve got quite the gift here.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off by brushing the pad of his thumb along your jawbone. “You had a speck of blue paint there.” He murmured in explanation. He was close to you now, close enough that you could detect the subtle hint of menthol and cigarettes. It was a scent that was inherently Jim, and it made you lightheaded. He stared at you openly, there was something undetectable there; a want that both of you knew needed yet had no idea how to vocalize. And then he did the one thing you were praying he would do and he closed the distance between you, took your face into his hands and kissed you hard. You pushed him away immediately; the effect was like grazing a finger over a hot stove. The precise softness of his lips on yours, the need with which he was kissing you, made you both extremely horny and extremely conflicted.

“I’m married Jim.”

He squared his jaw and stepped ever closer to where you were. You took a step back but he only followed you, and soon he had you backed against the wall. “That doesn’t stop him now does it?”

You swallowed hard and without thinking whispered, “Do it again.”

Jim quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “Do what again?”

You tapped your index finger twice against your lips. “Kiss me.”

And he certainly didn’t have to be told twice, because within seconds the gap between you was closed and he was on you. It wasn’t a slow ebb and flow; there was a keenly electrical element to the way he touched you. It was as if his lips left sparks at every inch of skin he kissed. His hands were deliberate in their movements; he tugged impatiently at the hem of your shirt and you wordlessly lifted your hands above your head so that he could shimmy it from your body. Once you were free of the useless material, he reached around with a hand and unhooked your bra. You watched, gaze half-lidded, as the flimsy material fell to the floor in a pool. “So fucking beautiful,” Jim murmured against the crook of your neck. His hands roamed freely; they caressed each breast, and he bent his head low to suck a pert nipple into his mouth. You groaned loudly into the touch and cursed as he pulled away to blow a steady stream of air over the sensitive bud. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His voice was low and gruff, like black velvet.

“Probably about as long as I’ve wanted to.” You tucked your fingers into the waistband of your panties and leggings and shimmied them down your legs, kicking them to the side. This was the first and only time you had been utterly naked in front of a man who wasn’t your husband and the notion was liberating in every way.

Jim sucked two thick fingers into his mouth, got them nice and coated with his spit and danced his way down your abdomen, where he hovered teasingly just above your clit. “Mmm… so you want this just as much as I do?”

You laughed, throwing your head against the wall with a dull thud. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You had barely gotten your sentence across before Jim’s thumb brushed across the swollen bundle of nerves, and pushed his fingers into you. “Jesus fuck,” you gasped loudly and grabbed onto his clothed shoulders for dear life. He started off at an innocent enough pace but he began to curl his fingers at the end of each pump and it didn’t just have you seeing stars, it had you seeing the whole fucking solar system. Jim slowed when he could tell you were unravelling, pulled his fingers from your pussy and sucked them into his mouth, eyes on you the entire time. When they were cleaned to his satisfaction, he got down on one knee and hike a leg over his shoulder. “What about you?”

Jim grinned up at you, his eyes bright and shining merrily. “This isn’t about me tonight, baby.” He rested his head against your lower abdomen and inhaled deeply, reveling in your natural scent. Wordlessly, he licked a warm, wet stripe up the length of your dripping slit. You held your wrist against your mouth to keep from crying out. “None of that shit tonight, I need to hear you.” He repeated his movement again, though this time he sucked your clit into his mouth as he went, his bottom teeth grazed the swollen bud there, causing you to grind yourself against his face. This earned a loud groan from him, and he palmed the ever-growing erection in the crotch of his pants. He began to delve his tongue further into your folds, starting at the bottom and always ending at the top to where your clit was. He swirled his tongue over it multiple times, and then suddenly and without warning, added two fingers into the mix. You were falling apart before his very eyes; trembling and moaning and trying to glean as much friction from him as possible. “That’s it baby,” He groaned against your wetness. “Come for me whenever you want, but come hard…” He spit against you and pumped his fingers just a little bit harder, hitting your G spot with each thrust. “That’s a good girl,” He cooed as you stilled your movements around him. You were sure he could feel your walls contracting around his fingers as his name ripped from the base of your throat. You came hard against him, to the sound of him groaning praises. “Such a good girl…” His voice was hoarse- yours was wrecked. He pressed a chaste kiss to your pussy and stood up straight, his form towered over you almost entirely. Again, he sucked his fingers into his mouth and helped you pick up your discarded articles of clothing.

You noticed the moist patch of pre-come just beneath the zipper to his pants, his cock still entirely erect. “That looks painful… I could help you with it?”

Jim moved a strand of hair behind your ear, shaking his head. “I’m on cloud nine, miss. Nothing hurts.”

You followed him downstairs and waited by the front door for him to leave. He bent his head towards you and kissed the center of your temple. “I’d be happy to let you take care of me next time.” He let himself out before you could say anything in return. You stepped barefoot and pant-less onto the front porch, and watched him take off down the darkened street, still wanting him… always wanting him.

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