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silkling · 3 years

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Could you do a fic where High tide finds out how bad M.E.C.H is after Optimus shows up on the deck of his ship because the ground bridge is down and High tide is the closest, I don't see much of him so I wanted to ask

I’d love to! High Tide is a fun character, first impressions aside, and I always wished the show gave a little more on his relationship with Optimus. I understand why they didn’t, but hey, I can dream!

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When Optimus Prime sent High Tide a comm. message asking him to dock his boat at a specific set of coordinates so he could board, and to be prepared to make a very quick getaway, High Tide’s battle protocols flared to life. They hadn’t activated since coming to Earth, since he didn’t need them when it came to working with that team of bitty younglings, and he certainly didn’t need them for his secondary mission given to him by the Prime, which was to scout Earth’s oceans for energon and mine and gather as much as he could. So when the familiar protocols roared to the forefront of his processor, it was easy to have his ship shift into its battle form, which involved the side narrowing a slight bit and a very large amount of weaponry unfolding from various parts of the boat or humming to life in hidden turrets. He easily did as his old friend asked, expecting that the Prime was facing Deceptions and possibly injured, and that’s why he needed a rescue and an escape route and not a battle assist.

Optimus Prime was indeed injured as he ran onto the ship, limping heavily, but High Tide caught no Decepticon signals on his sensors. His battle protocols whirled, trying to calculate what was going on and attempting to lock onto a target for High Tide fo fight. Still, he did as he had originally been asked and as soon as Optimus was on board he had the ship leaving and heading towards open waters. His processor still whirling with the urge to fight, the soldier grabbed his field first aid kit and went to help his commander patch himself up. He crouched next to the large mech, who was seated on the deck of the ship, and got to work.

“So Optimus, mind tellin’ me what you were runnin’ from?” he asked, his engine rumbling with battle-lust in tandem with the rasp of his voice.

The Prime only shot him a look, easily reading his posture and understanding what was going on in his processor. “Stand down, High Tide. There will be no fight today.”

“No fight!” he growled. “I think not! What ‘Con did this to you and where are they now?” he demanded, welding shut a leaking gash in the red armor.

“It was no Deception, old friend.”

High Tide froze, his optics narrowing. “No ‘Con? Then who? Humans?”

And that’s when his long distance sensors picked up the energy signatures of approaching vehicles. Approaching earth vehicles, coming from the air. High Tide’s engine snarled in displeasure, and he shot the Prime a dark look.

“This happened cause of your insistence on not harming humans, didn’t it?” he demanded. “Optimus, your dedication to being just and sowin’ as little violence as possible is one of the reasons I follow you. It means you care about life first and foremost and that makes you a very good commander. But sometimes, you take it too far!”

He sent the command to his ship to activate long-range weapons. He’d shoot the little insects out of the sky. Optimus obviously that saw the weapons on deck engaging and locking onto currently unseen targets, because he locked a hand around High Tide’s wrist.

“High Tide, do not!” he ordered.

The submarine glared at the Prime. “Tell me who they are, Optimus. I need an explanation.”

Optimus sighed. “They call themselves M.E.C.H. They are a human terrorist organization whose goal is to possess and control the most powerful and advanced technologies on the planet.”

High Tide narrowed his optics. “And right now, that’s us.”

A nod was his only reply.

“So they’re hunting Cybertronians, then? Why?”

Optimus hesitated before he answered, before he decided it might be best if his friend knew the whole story so he could understand the dangers. “They wish to cut one of us open and take them apart in order to figure out how we work. They want to create one of us themselves, on that is sparkless and mindless and follows only their commands.”

High Tide went rigid, and that was when the helicopters broke cloud cover and started barking down on the ship. He snarled, and his ship’s weapons began powering up.

“High Tide!” Optimus protested. “I said-!”

“I heard you the first time, Optimus.” High Tide said coldly. “And normally, I’d follow your orders. But you forget one thing: my primary duty as your soldier is to ensure you survive. So if I have to disobey your order to ensure you do, so be it.” He strode to the edge of the deck, gaze locking on the helicopters.

One of them stopped to hover closer to the water, and High Tide turned a cold glare onto it. “I suggest you and yours leave, little human.” he rumbled. “My ship has the firepower to take down a Decepticon war vessel.”

The apparent leader, a human with silver hair and a facial scar, only chuckled. “I think not. You robots are so squeamish about taking human lives. And besides, you’ll find that we are more than capable of handing a little heavy weaponry. We’ll come away from this endeavor with two prizes and a warship, it seems. How lovely.”

High Tide only bared his teeth in a savage grin. “I think you’ll find I have far fewer reservations about killin’ you little bugs than my commander.” he said coldly, and his ship fired. A high powered blaster bolt hit one of the other copters, blowing it to pieces and sending the wreckage falling into the sea below.

The human was obviously startled by the show, and he narrowed his eyes at the large blue Autobot. “So I see.” he said darkly.

High Tide could almost see him getting ready to give an order to attack, so he sent the ship another command. There was more fire, and then all the helicopter’s except the one in charge were nothing but flaming wreckage falling from the sky.

“Leave.” he snarled. “Last chance.”

The human narrowed his eyes, glaring, before nodding at the pilot next to him and then the helicopter was leaving, flying away and into the clouds. High Tide only relaxed when his long range sensors pinged back telling him they had left, and then he returned to his friend. His battle protocols started to cycle down, and the harsh glow of his optics lessened.

“High Tide…” Optimus sounded pained.

“I’m not going to apologize, Prime.” he said stiffly, returning to fixing up his commander. “I admire your desire for peace, I really do. But sometimes, the peaceful solution won’t work. You can’t just let them hunt you down like that. What if your refusal to fight back or let your team fight back means you lose another bot? What happens if those slag-heaps find the Rescue Bots?” he demanded.

Optimus winced, looking away. “It is wrong to use our might to kill so easily.”

“It is.” High Tide agreed. “But they weren’t non-threats, Optimus. If you keep letting them hunt you down without fightin’ back, then one of these days someone is going to suffer grievously at their hands, and with how determined all your team is to protect you…it won’t be you.” he said seriously.

Optimus was silent as High Tide finished, only looking up when the submarine stood and put the kit away. “You are right, of course.” he sounded exhausted. “But…”

“You don’t want to compromise another piece of your spark.” High Tide heaved a sigh. “I get it, Optimus. I really do. So I won’t say anythin’ about your decisions when it comes to you alone fightin’ them. But know this: I refuse to bow down and run from those humans. If they come after me, I will fight back and take out as many as I must. What happens if Blurr or Salvage are with me when they attack, Prime? Am I supposed to run and let those monsters have a chance at hurtin’ young bots who haven’t ever fought in the War?”

“…no. No, you are right, High Tide.” he heaved a sigh. “I will not protest your choices, and I thank you for your aid and for protecting me.”

High Tide relaxed, and finally let his ship return to its normal form. “I understand you, Optimus. We might disagree sometimes, but at the end of the day you’re still my friend and I will follow you, wherever this War takes us.”

Optimus shot him a tired, warm smile. “Thank you, old friend. I do not deserve such devoted loyalty from you, but I’m glad to have it nonetheless.”

High Tide grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Of course, Prime. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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Here we are! Shorter than my usual fics, but I hope you like it nonetheless!

Silas just got a very harsh lesson that not all the ‘bots will be hesitant about using lethal force. He’ll be more wary around them from here on out! And Optimus is just tired of the War and violence and death. He doesn’t want more violence, but sometimes it’s the only way to stay alive. Poor guy.

Until next time, folks!

#silkling request fics #request fic #tfp #transformers prime #transformers rescue bots #tfrb #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime #high tide #rescue bots high tide #tfrb high tide #MECH #tfp silas #high tide does not like MECH #Optimus is tired #maccadam

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ships-bynoa · 3 years

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The Titans are almost back, bitches. aka 3x06

Guys, literally every time the titans are together-or even paired up-the episode gets ten times better, but in 6 episodes there is simply not enough Kory and Gar. I can easily forget that when I’m basking in the episode they are in, especially when they’re giving us family dynamics.

Kory:

“You’re not mad that I left. You’re mad I came back.” Kory’s face tells us Blackfire is right on the money, and who would know her better than her sister?

So, Kory, oh boy. Our girl is on edge. She is slowly unraveling and is super vulnerable and raw with Kom around and little sister is going to exploit it and her guilt, which I think she’s carrying a lot of. So far their dynamic has been fascinating because there’s so much to read between them and so many accusations being flung back and forth, from both. From Kory; you sense guilt and even contempt and from Kom there’s envy and resentment, but also there’s a sense of idealization for her older sister, too, which of course, with younger siblings, there always is an element of that. And as an older sibling, there is always an unspoken and sometimes spoken responsibility placed on them for their younger siblings. Parents often don’t realize it, but they can create a lot of tension within siblingships by assigning roles.

They remember home and family very differently, which is often the case, too. Kom was often thrown in the pit and to that, Kory attributes her sister’s constant rebellion as the reason, and yet, Kory herself was a bit of a rule breaker, sleeping with her guard, Fiddei.

Kory was being suffocated by the laws and customs of her home planet; one could say she rebelled by going on a mission, to escape her duties. Home did neither of them any favors because while one rebelled because she did not fit in, the one who did fit in was dying inside, surrounded by little robots and becoming one herself. Being told what to eat, wear and who to love or be friends with is yikes.

I was thinking Kom began her game of manipulation in the bunker, but she really started before that when she sent Fiddei to bring Kory home when she probably intended to kill him all along. After all she would’ve castrated him if she’d had the chance to for sleeping with Kory in the first place. Shortly after Fiddei’s death, Kory flamed out. No powers. Emotionally wrung out from the news her family was dead and now the culprit is here. These two know each other very well and know exactly how to get underneath each other’s skin. Right now Kom is getting underneath Kory’s and our girl is losing patience fast.

I’m wondering when exactly Dick will tune into Kory’s anxiety-ridden state and step in to support.

Ultimately, I just want to see what truly happened to the girls on their planet and how we have the versions we have now. Like, Kory said to Rachel, “No one is born good or bad, we are defined by our choices.” I get the feeling Kory has given Kom so many chances to make a different choice and has become disillusioned, meanwhile Kom believes nothing she does will give her the respect she feels she deserves anyway, so she may as well blow shit up, figuratively and literally. At least then she’ll have Kory’s attention.

Gar:

Gar losing it on Dick was so cathartic and yet he could’ve gone much further, considering Dick abandoned him last season to go jail and hallucinate Bruce. It ultimately led to Gar (and Conner) being kidnapped and experimented on by Mercy. It’s actually all the adults fault this happened, but as the leader promoting his family everywhere he goes, he needs to keep his eye on the ball. He would know if he spent five minutes at home with them that Gar is struggling. Last season Gar was #OperationSaveTitans and this season he’s #ThisFamilyIsDying. He’s doing what the adults should be doing, or at least leading the charge on it. He’s the glue, but who will hold him together?

He’s carrying too much emotional responsibility and Dick’s dismissal, because he is fully locked into Gotham and being Batman, makes me mad. Get your head in the game, Grayson. Gotham is going to eat your family while you retread the nostalgic steps of your past.

We all know Dick’s not good at expressing himself emotionally, though he’s usually forced to express something when talking to or being confronted by Kory, so I was proud of him for giving Gar the floor to speak. I just wish Gar spoke about himself, but then again, he needs more time and consistent offers to be heard. I’m happy Dick followed up the conversation up with a bonding/training session. There was definitely pride in Dick’s face because Gar really has come a long way in this group, but he needs MORE SCREEN TIME. I’d like to see the two of them out in the field together the way we’ve seen Kory this season with Gar and Conner.

I wonder if Gar losing control is the start of all his trauma bubbling up to the surface, will being in Gotham, hunting down a friend be too much?

As a side, has the CGI tiger face gotten worse?

Kom (and Conner):

First thing’s first, what music are we thinking Kom listens to? Probably the kind of music she can break your tailbone to, like, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole and Jay Z, or Prince, Jimmy Hendrix, Stevie Nicks and Led Zeppelin? Rihanna?

Kom is absolutely a villain this season and if she isn’t, what a waste that’ll be. A mastermind at mind games (see, her picking up the chess piece), who is going to drum up Kory’s paranoia and anxiety around her being there. Trying to kill her suspicion by guilt tripping her while simultaneously being a do good-er to the group, feigning interest in helping the Titans to earn her way in, a tip from our boy, Conner.

She says she wants acceptance and I believe that’s absolutely true, but she doesn’t know how to get that without using power, so she’ll continue to covet acceptance through and with power because according to Kory, she’s always been a climber. Add to that, being born the cursed child and the only royal member born without the gift of fire, something that differentiates them from the common folk, being too frail to participate in the same games as Kory, having a speech therapist be her only friend while being the object of ridicule and you have a villain origin story nicely set up.

I really enjoyed Conner and Kom’s exchange. The boy lit up when he spoke about seeing his family happy and it made me light up. He’s so genuine and has a big heart and Kom is going to take advantage of it, that’s not to say she won’t develop real feelings for him, but she can like him and still use him.

Conner’s “you have to earn your way into the family,” is perhaps an internal and personal struggle he has from sharing blood with Luthor. I think it may come from an insecure place because he was made a titan as soon as he woke up and no one questioned it, but as he’s only half of superman, he’s constantly trying to prove his usefulness for good, which losing Hank has rocked, leaving him vulnerable to Kom’s recognition for his otherness. Their otherness.

She gave us insight into her mind, but also she has likely seized an opportunity to use the vulnerability against Conner and to her favor by making him her kindred. Outcasts. Will she gain influence over him? He’s still young and learning, and trusting, too.

Her interest in him felt layered, ignoring the ugly customs of sex servants, she was also observing Kory’s relationships and ranking them in her sister’s life. Her being able to determine who may have Kory’s interest (which Kory gave away with her vulnerable display of worry over Dick’s welfare in front of Kom) will surely come into play at some point, right? After all, Kom did kill Kory’s last lover/royal guard. This may be me projecting. LOL.

Romantically, I’m waiting to see how they play it before I decide if I like it or not, but so far, they have a nice chemistry. Friendly.

Dick (and Barbara) :

What a lovable dumb ass.

I was so happy Kory lost it on him and called him on his lone ranger shit, at least when it’s her, even when he’s being an idiot, he’s still listening. “Let’s go.” and I thought it was hilarious that he tried explaining himself, but when Gar called him out, he got all huffy with, “Excuse me, young man.”

Gar asking Kory not to have words with Barbara over Dick getting shot was so funny because Dick’s face seemed to ask the same when she asked how it happened. We love a protective Kory. I’ll be looking at him when it’s his turn to reciprocate.

I don’t like him dismissing their concerns about his personal safety and how it affects them, it’s like he’s learned nothing after running off alone to battle Trigon, or rather has unlearned his lessons of S2. I’d like to see some more permanent emotional growth from him by this season’s end. In his current state, he’s not an exuding leader. He can’t be when he’s still wrapped up in Bruce and all things Gotham. He’s not tuned into Kory’s anxiety, or Conner’s grief and insecurity, or Gar’s emotional burden.

He’s started making it up to him, but he has much to do in taking Gar’s concerns and emotional needs seriously.

I’m not even going to try and work out the timeline between Barbara and Dick and Dick and old Titans in San Fran and S1. But it doesn’t bode well that Dick’s dream with Barbara ended in a nightmare.

I wish they’d never did the whole Dick and Dawn relationship in S2 because they’re basically repeating some of the beats in showing us how they don’t work as a couple, only his relationship with Babs makes a lot more sense even though I don't care. Dick has unfinished business with that relationship, Bruce and Gotham and I can only hope he’s wrapped it up for good by this season’s end. I want to see relaxed, smiling and happy Dick in THE PRESENT. I still Babs will be the one to notice and point out Dick's feelings for Kory.

Barbara (outside of Dick) is being downplayed a little, no? Dismissing Dick’s suspicions about Jason when he arrived, showing no knowledge of Jason’s visits to Crane and then taking the bait and moving Crane after he got a light beat down. A commissioner who was also a very capable vigilante is tricked by a recording and goes to meet “Bruce” on her own. I really enjoyed that she could hold her own and the fight scene was really good, but it was a bit baffling that she fell for that ruse. So far, she’s not entirely good at her job.

Dick’s a distraction in his own right and her feelings clearly get in the way, which is why she keeps asking him to leave the precinct and Gotham; because she’s pining a fantasy and he’s ruining it. Lastly, I really like the way Savannah plays Barbara.

Why’d they do that to Tim?? :(

Overall, it was a better episode and I enjoyed it more than latter episodes, but they’re not quite there yet for me. I’m still waiting for Team Titans.

#dc titans #kory anders #koriand'r #stafire #gar logan #beast boy #dick grayson #nightwing #conner kent #superboy #noa posts

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introvert-no-chameleon · 4 years

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Of Monsters and McGuckets

Fiddleford just wanted to have his morning coffee in peace, but Gravity Falls and the Stan brothers had other plans.

AO3

Fiddleford Hardon McGucket considered himself to be a patient, level-headed individual. One had to be if they ever hoped to survive Gravity Falls, and, even more daunting, live with Stanford and Stanley Pines. Keeping them in line was an occupation in itself. His co-workers were two of the most chaotic and morally questionable people he’d ever met in his life. (Then again, as someone who had once made a giant robot to terrorize his ex-wife in an admittedly misguided attempt to get her back, maybe he shouldn’t be throwing stones in that last department).

The point is, when it came to dealing with uncommon and frustrating situations, he usually managed to keep a straight head. But on one deceivingly lovely morning, just when he’d went out to the porch to sit back with a nice cup of coffee and the sun had just begun to kiss the horizon, he saw two large monsters sprinting towards the shack, and. Well.

It was only reasonable that he’d react the way he did.

The first thing he did was spit out his early-morning coffee, ruining his only clean tie in the process. The second thing he did was dash into the shack like the Devil Himself was on his heels. Lastly, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and began combing the living room for the shotgun he knew for a fact Stanley kept around. He thanked the Lord Stanford wasn’t here, lest he’d be chastising Fiddleford for “harming” (defending himself against) a perfectly healthy specimen. Never mind the fact that half of these subjects of study had tried to eat him, no sir. Scientific discovery was always more important.

(Sometimes, Fiddleford wondered how on God’s green earth Stanford Pines hadn’t fallen to his death into a ravine or some other nonsense in pursuit of an anomaly. Heaven knows the man, while undeniably brilliant, was severely lacking when it came to common sense).

A bang rattled the wooden door of the shack. Fiddleford yelped, dropping the pile of books he’d been in the process of moving in his scramble to find the gun. He eyed the secret lab entrance and wondered if the door would hold them back long enough for him to make a dash for it.

“Fidds, we saw you run in, will ya just open the door?”

Fiddleford froze. That voice, while even more gravelly than usual (a thing he hadn’t thought possible) was definitely familiar.

“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” he said, dazed, as he walked over to the door and unlocked it. “Stanley?”

Upon closer inspection, he couldn’t deny that the square-jawed face that peered down at him belonged to Stanley Pines. There were some…notable…differences, such as the fact that he had glowing orbs for eyes, all his featured seemed to be carved from stone, he had ridiculous pointy ears and fangs to boot. He’d be right at home next to the gargoyles from those pictures of cathedrals he’d studied for his History of Western Art course.

“Took ya long enough,” said Stanley, ducking his head under the doorway and lumbering inside. Each step made the floorboard groan loudly, and for a few seconds Fiddleford thought the man would break through the wood floor. “Thought we’d never get back.”

“Stanferd, do ya have…fur?” said Fiddleford, stepping away from the door to let the other man in.

Stanford—it couldn’t be anyone else, not with that straight-backed posture and furrowed brow peering over thick-rimmed glasses—walked in behind him, hands behind his back.

Hearing the question, Stanford adjusted his glasses, with a large, six-fingered paw. His facial features were lion-esque, as was his entire body, save from the colorful green, blue and red feathered wings that trailed behind his body. He even had a cute little lion tail poking out from a hole in his pants. “It appears so, yes.” He cleared his throat. “We may have a…problem.”

Stanley, who had gone to the fridge to get a beer, came back glaring at Stanford with those bright yellow orbs. “No shit, Sixer. I hadn’t fucking noticed.”

Stanford’s ears flattened against his skull. Fiddleford would’ve found it amusing if Stanford wasn’t now 7 feet tall and didn’t have large, sharp teeth. “Language, Stanley.”

Fiddleford considered grabbing some alcohol as he took in the situation. After a few attempts at forming words, he finally settled for the question he found himself asking on a near-daily basis. “What in tarnation did ya two get yerselves mixed up in now?”

“Oi, don’t look at me,” said Stan. He jerked his clawed thumb at Stanford. “Mr. Science here was the one who just had to walk right into a mysterious, glowing lake that he almost drowned in.”

Stanford’s tail twitched, and he growled. “We almost drowned, Stanley, because you turned into 300 pounds of moving stone.”

“I was only in the lake because you started flailing around growing a tail and screamin’ for help!”

Ford sniffed, chin held up in that way it got whenever he’d start getting defensive. “Swimming with wings is incredibly difficult.”

“Yeah, I would know, I have them now.” Stanley stretched out his bat-like wings for emphasis.

Judging by Stanford’s bloodshot eyes and Stanley’s slouched posture, along with the fact that they seemed even more short with each other than usual, Fiddleford guessed that they’d been arguing on and off about this for a while. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Now see right here, the two of ya best calm down, you’ll tear the shack apart if you start fighting bein’ like this.”

The two of them, while far from calm, quieted down.

“Right,” said Fiddleford. “So ya discovered some magic water that turns folks into monsters?”

“Yup,” said Stanley. “We found it in some hidden path behind some bushes and a couple of boulders.”

It’s almost as if it was hidden away for a reason. “Did ya at least remember where the path is?”

“Of course,” said Stanford, having the audacity to look indignant. “What do you take me for?”

“An idiot who got us turned into two walking Summerween costumes because he couldn’t just collect the water in a cup and some gloves like a normal scientist?” said Stanley.

“As if you would know what a “normal” scientist does,” said Stanford, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright, fellas. Let me just get some food in me and then we can go back out and get some samples,” said Fiddleford. “I need me some caffeine to deal with this.”

Stanford opened his mouth but Fiddleford stopped him with the same withering glare he’d give his son whenever he tried to step out of line. “Stanferd Pines, if ya think I’m gonna run around the woods with the two of you, in this here state, on an empty stomach, yer sorely mistaken.”

“Fidds has got a point,” said Stan. “You probably haven’t had anything other than that piece of toast since you woke up.”

“I suppose some food wouldn’t hurt…” said Stanford. “I did have an incredibly strong urge to maul a deer we spotted on the way over.”

Fiddleford was getting some bacon out of the fridge when he heard the end of the sentence. He straightened up and slammed the door with more force than strictly necessary. “Y-ya did?”

Stanford seemed to come to the same conclusion Fiddleford had, because he raised his paws up. “Oh, n-no, rest assured. I don’t have any inclination to eat you.”

“Thank the Lord…”

“After all,” said Stanford, rubbing his chin. “According to mythology, sphinxes only consume humans if they are unfortunate enough not to know the answers to their riddles.”

“Don’t I feel better,” said Fiddleford, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do ya reckon ya can still have some bacon and eggs?”

“Yes, that’ll do,” he said. “Oh! I must write down our findings in my journal. Now, where did I put it…” Stanford went up the stairs, muttering to himself the entire way.

“Ya know, he actually started running on all fours at least twice on the way over.” Stan grinned through another sip of beer. “was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week.”

Fiddleford sighed. That would explain the fighting. He rolled his eyes as he saw Stanley reach in the fridge for another can and shut it before he could. “Stanley Pines, it is 8 o’clock in the morning.”

“Ooh,” Stanley raised his eyebrows. “Two last names in less than five minutes, it’s a new record.”

“Stanley.”

Stanley pouted, and even with his new…physical features, Fiddleford still found it endearing. “Aw, come onnnn, Fids, I’m emotionally distressed!”

“Yer no such thing.” He smiled a soon as back turned to the other man. He took out their skillet and placed it on the stove.

“Y’know, I gotta hand it to ya. You’ve gotten a lot more assertive since we’ve met, it’s kinda hot.”

“Yer flattery will not sway me into lettin’ ya get another drink.”

Stanley laughed behind him. “Yeah, yeah. I’m still bein’ serious. Ford didn’t even try to fight you about getting breakfast. If it was me, he’d be yelling at me by now about how we were wastin’ time and crap.”

“It doesn’t take much for the two of ya to get at each other’s necks.” Fiddleford cracked an egg on the edge of the skillet. Anyhow, that’s because he’s hiding away scribblin’ field notes. The moment he’s done, he’ll be tryin’ to drag us on out of here.”

“Eh, true.”

For a moment, the eggs sizzling and snapping on the pan filled the warm silence. His stomach grumbled as the savory smell of cooking food reached him. “Stanley, can ya hand me the coffeepot?”

The floorboards creaked behind Fiddleford. A shadow loomed over him. “Stanley?”

“…You’re not, uh, scared of me or nothin’?” Stanley’s voice had gotten so quiet Fiddleford had hardly heard him.

Fiddleford glanced back at Stanley, who despite his size was hunched over, looking mighty small for someone who was now a literal boulder.

“Why on earth would I be?”

Stanley blinked meekly. He gestured towards his entire body. “Uh…’cause I look like this?”

Ah. He did try to threaten them with a shotgun. Some of the unease he’d gotten rid of returned, but he tried his best not to show it. He swallowed down his fear as best as he could. “Should I be?”

Stanley frowned. “Eh, I mean, I feel different, but not in a “eat somebody” kinda way. I do have a very strong urge to perch on the roof and attack pigeons.”

“Fascinating.” Even without his caffeine, his scientific curiosity was finally starting to get the best of him. “Well, gargoyles are known as guardians meant to ward against evil. Perhaps you’ve developed some sorta protective instinct…”

He stopped mid-ramble. Even without eyes to speak of, Fiddleford could tell Stanley was avoiding his gaze.

Fiddleford brought his hand to Stanley’s cheek. It felt warm, to his surprise, like rock that had baked under the afternoon sun. Stanley peeked up at him. “Darlin’, the only thing I’m afraid of is the damage you’ll cause around the lab if we don’t turn ya back. Yer like a bull in a china closet as it is.”

Stanley chuckled, leaning into Fiddleford’s touch. “Somebody has ta make things interesting around here.”

Something crashed overhead, quickly followed by a string of curses. A series of heavy objects thumped against the wood overhead.

“I’m alright!” called Stanford’s voice. “I simply knocked a bookshelf over my person, but this new form is surprisingly durable!”

“Things are interestin’ enough as it is,” said Fiddleford, his brief moment of curiosity gone as soon as it came. “Where in tarnation is the coffeepot?”

“Relax, Fiddlenerd, I’ll make ya a fresh one.” He went over by his side, giving him a playful shove that sent Fiddleford to the ground. “…Oops. Sorry, uh, forgot about the whole…stone thing.”

Fiddleford glowered up at his boyfriend, taking his hand as he helped Fiddleford back up. “Yer lucky a got a soft spot fer ya, else I’d be mighty cross.”

Stanly gave him the gentlest peck on the top of Fiddleford’s head. “Once I have my human body back, I’ll make it up to ya.”

Stanley gave him a cup of his precious lifeblood, black with two sugars, just as he liked it. Smirking, Fiddleford took a sip, getting warmed by more than just the coffee. “I’ll hold ya to that.”

Somebody please give Fiddleford a raise.

Comment on what monster you all think Fidds should be, and I may do a second part. I've read some people make him a scarecrow, and I considered making him a centaur.

#mystery trio au #mystery trio #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #young fiddleford #young stanley pines #young stanford pines #young stan bros #fluff #fiddlestan #monster falls #gargolye!stan #sphinx!ford

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duckprintspress · 3 years

Note

So excited by the possibility of the anthologies!! I personally got very excited by the "Masquerades in any setting" and the "Love across time in any setting" themes (I think they're much more broader and there's more liberty in creation) but all the other suggestions sound awesome!!

Hey anon!

We're excited too! Our post about Patrons having the opportunity to vote did drum up a handful of new Patrons (THANK YOU, you know who you are. <3) - we now have 27 supporters, which is amazing - and 18 of them have voted. The vote stands as follows:

[Image ID: a survey with bars for each item on the list and a percentage indicating what percentage of the votes the item received. First item: Solarpunk, 17%. Second item: Hurt/comfort in science fiction settings, 11%. Third item: Robot uprisings, 11%. Fourth item: Masquerades, 28%. Fifth item: Love in the public eye, 11%. Sixth item: Love across time, 6%. Seventh item: Trapped together in science fiction settings, 17%. End ID.]

The management team sent 7 themes to our Patrons (when we'd meant to send 3 to 5) because we loved all the ideas and just couldn't narrow it down, and you can see from the how the votes are spread across the categories - our backers are facing the same challenge! All these ideas are pretty popular, and no theme has a majority. At best we can hope for a slight edge of one amongst a plurality. Still, we're going with majority rules - if nothing changes, the theme for our next anthologies will be Masquerades. (don't consider this an official announcement, though! We won't make that until we open applications later this fall...well, except on Patreon, our Patrons will know sooner which is the winner.)

We'll accept votes through tomorrow (Saturday, August 21st) so it's not too late for folks to back us and influence the final decision!

(and for folks seeing this who want to vote - you can access our Patreon here!)

(edited a couple minutes after posting when I realized the picture was illegible, sorry about that! Also added an image ID.)

#duck prints press #anthologies 3 and 4 #unforth replies

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

timeless - 07

PAIRING: medieval!james “bucky” barnes x reader

WARNINGS: mentions of war and wounds.

A/N: i’m so sorry i’m late with this, i’ve been going through a bit of writer’s block and couldn’t finish this but here we are. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

There wasn’t a sound in the castle or even outside the castle walls. The whole kingdom seemed to be mourning the future departure of their Duke to fight a war that everyone saw as pointless. Yet, no person in the whole kingdom seemed to carry the same weight of an anchor of sadness in their eyes than the Duchess of Addia herself. Nothing hurt more than look into those eyes and Bucky’s heart broke a bit more every time he looked into them.

- Bucky, please. - she pleaded with him for what to her seemed like the hundredth time. - Buck, my love, please. You’ve already fought a war, you don’t need to fight this one.

- Dove, I need to go. They’re our greatest allies and our people don’t deserve a war just because I decline their request. - he moved his hand to rest upon her cheek but she took a few steps back, denying his touch. - Please don’t do this, dove. I don’t wanna leave with you upset at me.

- And I don’t want you to leave and never return, Buck. - her hand rested on her opposite forearm. - Please, if you love me please stay. Stay with me, we have other allies and we ... I don’t want to have to be at your funeral, James. Don’t put me through that.

Bucky watched as she cleaned his wound, silent as a mouse. Her eyes would dart slightly towards the scars that held his skin to the metal appendage. She had taken to start sewing the wound shut to the best of her abilities, tugging the string with her right hand, closing the big gash on his chest. Nevertheless, her eyes were glued to the metal arm and the scars at his shoulder, almost feeling the pain that the now healed cuts once inflicted upon him.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line unsure of what to say and, followed his comment about war which created an awkward silence between the two of them. Y/N finished the gash, placed gauze on his wounds and wrapped a big piece of linen around his body for everything to stay in place.

He was a poor sight for the eyes, he was, looking as broken as a man could look. When she ordered him to stand up for it to be easier for her to wrap the linen cloth around him, his wounds cleaned and taken care of but in pain, made him project his shadow onto her. His brown hair fell in front of his bright blue eyes which seemed glassy and lifeless from the corner of her eye but when their eyes met, there was still a small twinkle of life there.

- It’s my fault, really. She told me not to go and I still went.

- Your wife? - she looked up at him and this time it’s her who makes the questions and making him very uncomfortable. James refused to meet her gaze and when she moved closer, his whole body froze and became stiff as if he was hiding some sort of locked up pain which seemed to become free whenever he looked at her. - You must’ve really loved her.

- She was the only right thing in my life. - he answered quickly, shaking his head slowly while biting his bottom lip in distress before sitting back down on the small stool while she fixated the bandage. - I know you believe I killed her but I would’ve never harmed her.

- I don’t believe anything. - she sighed knowing her mother would have her head on a plate if she dreamed her daughter had disobeyed her. - I think they make up rumours because you’re an widowed man of power. At least that’s what they do with women.

- Then why are you so scared of me, milady?

- I’m not scared, milord. I just ... I would rather keep my distance. - her eyes quickly moved from her feet up to his baby blue eyes. - I know my place.

- You don’t strike me as the type of woman to remain in her place.

- You don’t know me well enough, sir. - she gave him a shy smile, like a naughty child or untameable woman. The type fo smile that made Bucky unable to hold in a smile himself. In any other situation, she would’ve giggled at how he had tried to hide a little smile but the never leaving magnetism hovering over them made her just stare into his eyes. Time seemed to halt, stop existing even as she stared in the blue ocean eyes of the man who seemed to hold a thousand storms yet to brew.

Mindlessly, her hands went to cup his jaw in a warm touch which he relished, leaning into it as if it was the safest place in the world. Her finger caressed his jaw, as she blankly looked into his eyes. Bucky seemed to be stuck on the same trance, his thumb coming to slowly swipe her cherry painted lips. Magnets can’t ignore the pull for much longer, in due time, they’ll collide and Y/N and Bucky seemed to falter in their ignorance, standing closer to each other.

- Bucky? - the trance was broken by the door opening followed by the sound of rustling fabric which broke through the silence. The ignorance of the magnetism was immediately restored as Y/N took a few steps back, looking to see the princess of Genoa standing right there. By second nature, she took a small bow, her face burning as she thought about what would Odette think if she dreamed Y/N was standing in James’ bedroom after the festivities of past. She needed to get out. Fast.

- Your Royal Highness. - she took a step forward towards her, bowing again robotically. - I ... I was just checking on Lord Barnes injuries.

- I don’t think your services will be necessary anymore, Lady Y/N. Your princess must be looking for you at this moment. - Y/N didn’t even think about how harsh those words were, instead escaping the room at the first opportunity she could leaving Rosaline with James who just stared at the door, lifeless nature returning to his eyes as if she herself held the last shred of hope in humanity. - I must say Buck, I never thought you to have a easily turned head.

- You didn’t need to be harsh with her. She was only providing me with some aid, Rosaline.

- I’m sure she was. - she walked around like a folk stalking a prey. - You’re lucky my father adores some gossip to discuss with his whores.

- You must forgive me, Rosaline. However, you have gotten the crown several times, what is one time loss?

- For someone who enjoys to go by unnoticed, you caused quite a stir. It’s not like you, James.

- I don’t think you know me well enough, Rosaline.

Y/N was back in her bedroom, hands sweaty as she wondered what Odette was going to say once Rosaline went and told her about her visit to Bucky’s room. Along with that, Odette would probably tell her mother and soon enough she would be thrown into a circle of guilt which she could never escape. Quickly, but surely, she decided her best shot at getting some rest would be best to just take a warm bath, sleep and not think about the consequences of her actions.

She should be guilty, in all honesty she knew she should feel guilty or at least afraid but when he spoke of his wife. God, whenever he just mentioned her his voice would immediately soften and his eyes seemed to weight down his body as if the mere mention of her would sink him into a place where he seemed to constantly be trying to escape from.

Slowly, and trying to hide her worries, she tiptoed towards the large tub: it was beautifully decorated, made of solid gold, a shinning proof of Genoa’s wealth, on the outside and marble on the inside; the whiteness of the marble gave it an almost ethereal look while, on the outside, the most beautiful reliefs were made in gold of many fantastical beings and creatures, even the feet of the tub were sculpted, looking like the paws of a wild animal. Slowly, she dipped her leg in the tub and then another, moaning as she entered the fresh water that immediately cooled her body of her worries and heat. She could just fall asleep inside the tub and spend the night there however the noise of the door being opened called for her attention attention. Looking up from the clear waters of the bath, she saw him, standing there in the room with a large bowl of wild fruit, bread and one big chalice of liquid. He laid in the ground near the bathtub, setting the bowl, bread and chalice on the ground as well while she found it hard to say anything.

- Open your mouth. - he ordered as if they had known each other from the beginning of time itself. Tilting her chin slightly towards him, he pulled it ever so gently so that she was facing him. With that, he placed a grape in her mouth and closed her chin, as she began to chew it.

The flavor is incredible, exploding in her mouth in squirts of sweetness which , made her moan quietly. He grinned and chuckled at the scene, leaning over the edge of the tub basking on watching watches her savour said grape before her mouth opened again, just with parted lips, allowing him to place a small piece of mango on top of her tongue - and the same thing repeats itself in a pattern which she couldn’t explain why she allowed it to happen. It just felt right.

Once again she was stuck in actions she couldn’t exactly explained, yet felt natural.

tag list: @lookiamtrying @kmuir1 @anxiousdreamersworld @tinymalscoffee @navegandoaciegas @cinnabanuxoxo @sideeffectsofyou @krismeunicornbaobei

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alpaca-writes · 3 years

Text

Mystics, Chapter 19

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-18 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: psychological whump, emotional whump, memory whump, angst... like so much, Lyrem centric chapter

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

CHAPTER NINETEEN: A BLAST FROM THE PAST

Daffodils and tiger lilies.

Lyrem had to admit that they went well together. The sunshine colours would brighten the deathly cold winter’s day in an instant, and he desperately needed some warmth right now. The frigid January day was threatening to bring him under the tide of darkness. He had been away for a while. A job that was supposed to take a week turned into a month of running around and making deals with all sorts to please a certain U.S. senator. A republican, no less. He was dying to have Maria back in his arms again. It had been too long.

The radio lit up on its own.

“-great start to 1991 from Janet Jackson, folks! Next up we have Madonna with ‘Justify My Love’”-

“Scared?”

Paimon appeared in the passenger seat. Lyrem looked past him to glance at the bright yellow door at the end of the walkway. The snow had been cleared already, and the lights in the house were all out save for the porch.

“Why would I be scared?” he asked.

“You missed Christmas. Women love Christmas. They build up so much hope and sing Baby Please Come Home!” Paimon chuckled. “And you know, if you’re not coming, then she might be singing it to someone else- in more ways than one, if you know what I mean.”

Lyrem scowled at him and opened his truck door. It closed with a loud creaking at the hinges and being stupid in the moment, re-opened the door to retrieve the lovely blooms that he had picked out.

“She’s my true love,” he stated, peering in to Paimon. “Isn’t that what you promised me? She’d never hurt me like that. She’d never betray me.”

“She’s not a robot, Lyrem, she’s a human being with control over her own choices. Even true love can’t compete with free will.” Paimon shrugged and forced a small smile. “But, you know, perhaps she’s one of those really special ones. You best take care of her.”

Lyrem grew disgusted at the insinuation and slammed the door. Paimon had already vanished into thin air.

Before he realized it, he was facing the yellow door, and holding the flowers close to shield them from the cold. The door was unlocked, and he stepped through. It was just after dinner-time. Something about the house felt wrong. There was too much energy. Lyrem wasn’t much of a psychic, but he could feel the heat in the air- oppressive and… suffocating. The words that Paimon had spoken lingered in the back of his mind- or maybe it was the front of his mind disguised as the back of his mind…

Get rid of the thoughts Lyrem. They are not yours-

He turned, kicking off his shoes and flicked on the light.

“SURPRISE!”-

He ditched the flowers, and pressed his back against the door. Lyrem prepared to defend himself with a knife that would have been on his person if it weren’t for security confiscating it as he tried to take it as carry-on. The rest of the lights in the house lit themselves with the help of some extra hands from recognizable faces- but Lyrem was on high-alert. They may as well have been strangers. In reality, they were friends.

Well, Maria’s friends. Lyrem didn’t have any friends- not human friends.

There was a bright flash of light, that caught his scowling glare and froze it in time. The grinning face of a dark-haired man looked back at him over the camera as it spit out a polaroid.

Slowly, Lyrem caught himself up. There were streamers of bright colours draped along the ceiling and a shining banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY hung across the entranceway to the living room. Realizing that his reaction to the event was less than ideal, he smiled. Maria popped in front of him, escaping her hiding spot from behind the couch.

“What… what is all this?” Lyrem started. He knew what it was. It was his 42nd Birthday, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled.

“It’s your birthday, you goose!” Maria wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him quickly on the lips.

“Right.” He picked up the flowers off the floor, and handed them to her, in a less ceremonial fashion than he was hoping.

“Awe, aren’t you sweet.” She accepted them and played with the petals idly. “You forgot last year’s too, but this time, when I heard you’d be coming home, I knew you couldn’t miss out on Christmas and a birthday party! Just wouldn’t be right.” She ran off into the kitchen, abandoning him.

The rest of the guests, couples mostly milled about and filtered into the hall. Lyrem nodded and smiled to them kindly.

“Good trip?”

He nodded, taking the questions like a politician surrounded by nosey reporters.

“Where did you have to go this time?” Kelly, a blonde lady with thick lenses in her bright pink bifocals inquired of him. Her husband wrapped an arm around her waist. Lyrem always forgot his name but it was something very basic. He was the one with the camera.

Valhalla. “Norway,” he replied.

“Remind me, what is it that you do again, Lyrem?” the husband asked.

“I’m… a liaison. A third-party negotiator of sales. Very boring work, I assure you.”

“Oh? What kind of sales?”

“Depends on the client,” he answered shortly. “I’m a freelancer.”

“Happy Birthday, to you… Happy Birthday, to you…

Happy Birthday, dear Lyremmm, Happy Birthday too you!”

The chorus of voices broke out amongst the chit-chat as Maria carried the cake all the way into the hall. It was lit up and lighting up her face. Kelly’s husband lifted the camera, and snapped a quick photo.

“What are you all still doing in the hallway?” She snapped playfully. “Get in the dining room already so we can eat cake and play Pictionary.”

They all filtered off to the dining room to the side of the Georgian style house. Kelly ran off to bring in the wine that had been left chilling in the fridge. Her husband handed off the pictures to Lyrem.

“This one of you didn’t turn out, I don’t know what happened. Your face went all black and fuzzy- but this one of Maria’s looking pretty cute, eh?”

Lyrem took the photos graciously and clicked his tongue.

“Philly, could you open this one for me?” Kelly ushered her husband away to help with the wine bottles. She giggled out loud and sneered. “I have the worst grip.”

“Lyrem!” Maria scolded. “You need to blow out your candles! Make a wish!”

He sighed. He wished that the party would be over. He wished that these people would go home. He wished he could get a night alone with his fiancée. He wished that he could find something… anything that would bring him comfort. Then, he wished he wasn’t constantly wondering if he was a bad man.

And that was all he wished even before he reached the end of the table.

By the time he leaned over the cake he was completely out of wishes, but blew out the candles anyway. Maria smiled. He loved it when she did that.

The room went dark, delving into the shadows and engulfed by the confusion, Lyrem blinked, and realized suddenly that he wasn’t back in the old Georgian house, with Maria and surrounded by friends and… Phillip.

. . . . . . . .

“No, go back!” A light voice said through the dark.

“Persephone, it is unkind to spy on the lives of others, even if they are guests in our realm”-

“Pfft,” the higher voice brushed off the scolding lower one. “This isn’t our realm and you know it.”

“Nevertheless, he is our guest. We ought to treat him with respect.”

“But I want to see them kiss again”-

“Persephone, stop”-

. . . . . . .

Lyrem almost woke, but was jolted back to a time… different than his birthday and he lost control over his own mind once again.

They were awake and lying in their bed, bodies bare and snuggling beneath the quilts as the powdery snow fell, piling against the bedroom window and onto the boughs of the trembling aspen outside. It was a bit less than a year later. They were married now. The little gold ring was on his finger and hers matched just as simply. Carolers were outside, they were a week too early, but then, he didn’t mind the soft sounds that seemed to leak their way in through the window on the second floor.

He wasn’t looking out the window, entertained by counting the snowflakes like she was. He was enjoying her, watching her. Kissing her olive skin and wrapping himself in closer to her back as one hand played with her soft hair and the other stroked her waist. He felt like himself. He felt warm, and safe, and loved.

“I have to tell you something.”

He stopped kissing. Maria rolled over to face him and stared into his eyes. Suspiciously, he leaned his head away from hers and she pursed her lips nervously.

“What do you need to tell me?” he prompted.

Maria took a long breath, putting Lyrem on edge.

“You were gone a long time for this last client, you know? I didn’t have a lot to do, and I tried to start my own travel company after Jet Rover let me go. I tried to stay busy… you know?”

Lyrem nodded and swallowed. The travel agency went bankrupt soon after. Maria had been left by the wayside to pick up her life and start something new just before Lyrem needed to travel out to Belize for work. He came back with one hell of a tan. The tone of her voice grew shakier. The anxiety was growing stronger for both of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He said gently. He was gone too often. For too long. Dammit all. He should have told Paimon to shove it instead of going along with his ridiculous schemes. Huitzilopochtli, an Aztec God of War, never did end up striking a deal with them to give the Pentagon a little morale boost after all. Lyrem ended up losing money in that charade too. Not the wisest bet he had ever made. He wouldn’t blame her for leaving him- for sleeping with another man. These winters were hell on earth, after all-

“I bought a place,” she said.

Lyrem twisted his face-

“You bought a place?” he repeated, confused. They had a place. It was a beautiful place. He wasn’t always in it either. She didn’t need her own place.

“On seventeenth. I thought to myself, you know, there is no point in me wandering around and trying to make a living for myself in travel if you’ll be off travelling for work too. And I can’t just eat, cook, and clean for myself all the time- I’d lose my mind so... I’m starting a business!”

“Oh,” Lyrem’s eyes grew wide, and then interested. “What kind of business?”

“I… I don’t know yet”- Maria grinned excitedly, glad that his interest was showing. “I just bought the space on a whim. I don’t even really know why. I just needed to do something.”

“Well… That certainly is something.”

“You don’t like the idea?” She asked. Puzzled by his sudden change in demeanour, taking it as a briefly condescending tone.

“No, no. It’s not that. I just…” he was lost in thought as the air grew chilled. He watched the skin on her shoulder pebble up as she sighed.

“You thought I was about to tell you I was pregnant,” she surmised.

“Mm.” he nodded, even if it wasn’t true.

The thought of having children had crossed his mind. She wasn’t as old as he was. It wouldn’t be so risky to bring kids into this world except-

“Not really on my mind, you know that,” she commented in a rush.

He nodded again.

“I know… But what if we did try?” the words fell out of his mouth suddenly and without much thought. Entertaining the idea of being a father was something that he often did before Maria had announced her opposition to the idea. Perhaps something had changed in her since she was let go from Jet Rover Travel Inc.

She turned away from him, focusing on the snow as it fell from one white blanket to another.

“I just... I don’t want to be a mother,” she said quietly.

He didn’t remember how painful this moment was. Though quiet in her refusal, his heart was still brutally torn open by her words. That was her choice, and he would respect it. That didn’t make the reality any less painful to accept. True love didn’t include a perfect family. There wasn’t a written agreement for something like this, but if he wanted Maria to be happy, he would have to learn to live with her decision. He rolled off his side of the bed.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, isn’t it?” he commented, rubbing one eye. “I’m going to turn up the heat.”

. . . . .

“Are you happy, now?” the voice from the darkness asked.

“No, I thought there was more love here than that”- the light voice said annoyed. “Ugh! Did I skip over something?”

“Look at what you put him through, the man is crying.”

Lyrem searched the darkness as it quickly enveloped him once again. He remembered his place, a dead man reliving his time with Maria and how it had been squandered and painted with resentment.

He always imagined it happier than this.

“The poor thing was enraptured by her- there’s just something so bittersweet about that.”

“Hey!” Lyrem shouted into the air angrily. “I can hear you, you know!”

There was a low grunt from somewhere in the darkness. “We cannot waste our time. We need to find the right moment. The one with his call, or else we will never be able to find him again.”

Lyrem spun around. There was nothing. Nothing up, nothing down, nothing anywhere. The voices, however, emerged from every direction.

“Find who?!” Lyrem called out, brimming with frustration and an added vulnerability to the idea that these intruders could see whatever they wanted.

“Fine,” Persephone settled reluctantly. Slowly, her voice faded away. “But I get to watch their wedding after! I want to see a happy ending after all this sadness…”

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overwatchworks · 4 years

Text

That Pretty Face:

Inspired by art done by a good pal, they always draw the Blackwatch boys for me and it keeps my sanity.

It had been weeks. Weeks and weeks and Jesse had not truly thought about him since they had picked him up in pieces back in Hanamura. He had been busy. Mind occupied with other things. Genji Shimada was not the only thing being built from the ground up again.

Red eyes, silver metal covering most of his face, white and black synth skin. The Blackwatch insignia on his chest, outlined in glowing crimson. He looked angry. He looked resigned. Jesse didn’t blame him.

"Your life in return for your services". Jesse had heard the story, knew the drill. He’d had the same talk.

Death or Blackwatch. They were basically the same thing.

Guard duty was taking up his time now. Protecting Dr. Liao while she worked tirelessly on the AI that would, as she said, save the world where she could not. Jesse had seen enough of the world to know it could not be saved, but he was not about to tell her that. This was her life’s work, and who was he to dissuade a little bit of good in a world so riddled with evil. A world where people murdered their brothers in cold blood, left them shattered, left them for dead.

Just a few perks of the job.

The only reason Genji Shimada was back on his radar was because he was standing with them for training. Red eyes, silver metal covering most of his face, white and black synth skin. The Blackwatch insignia on his chest, outlined in glowing crimson. He looked angry. He looked resigned. Jesse didn’t blame him.

Your life in return for your services. Jesse had heard the story, knew the drill. He’d had the same talk. Death or Blackwatch. They were basically the same thing.

He was a cyborg now, wires hanging off the back of his head and whirring with each movement. The only parts of him that were obviously human being his left arm and what little of his face was still showing. Even that was mutilated with scars and marred by tubing. But he was a sight to behold when training. Fast, unbelievably agile. Ruthless. Violent. Every movement calculated and striking to kill.

It was beautiful, in a terrible sense. Clearly, Genji was skilled, but clearly, he was also unhinged. Pushing his body to the breaking point, steam coming up from odd places and eyes gaining dark circles as he overworked the human parts past their limits.

The weeks passed like that, training and missions going the same way. Genji liked to rip things apart. Genji liked to rip himself apart. Coming back with sparking wires sticking out of his arm and chest, blood that was too dark and glistening dribbling from holes in his armour. Covered in it. Some of it was his. Most of it wasn’t.

Jesse was generally assigned to missions with him, and generally they went well. Genji was quiet, the comms hardly ever going off on his end besides to give a general warning or a check in. He knew Jesse’s name, though, which surprised him the first time he used it. They had been caught in a crossfire, Talon ambushing their escape route and bringing in a sniper. Jesse had heard her rifle winding up, saw the laser sight flash to his chest. A single spot of red.

“She’s on you, McCree!” Genji had called, voice sharp and accented. Concerned, even. And then, of course, he had been shot. The bullet was armour piercing, but he had managed to move out of the way enough for it to not hit anything vital. Something he could survive, something Dr. Deorain had healed fairly quickly on the ride back to base. Genji had watched her work on him for a while, gaze boring into Jesse every time he looked up at the ninja.

For the first time, he wondered what was under that mask. If anything even was under the mask.

His eyes were expressive. They were pretty, all long lashes and dark intensity. They could be soft, at times. It was rare, but it happened. Mostly when Genji thought no one was looking, when he thought no one would notice the human parts of him anymore. Jesse did. But he did not let on just yet. They were not quite close enough for that. He didn’t know if they ever could be. Not in this line of work, not with what they had to do and the promise of death at every corner, a mission always a hairsbreadth away from going in the wrong direction, a bullet always missing them by the skin of their teeth.

Jesse loved it.

Jesse hated it.

Genji did too, he had learned, was born and bred for it. Made for it when he was born a second time, unable to escape the fate of a warrior, an assassin. Jesse wondered if he was bothered by that. The fact that his life was nothing but war and blood and death. Had asked him about it when they were stuck in the med bay together, drugs in his system making his lips looser than they already were.

Surprisingly, Genji had answered.

No, I am not bothered by it. I grew up knowing it was my fate, my duty. But I do resent it, and what it has done to me. What I have lost and had stolen away from me.

Jesse had listened raptly, the sound of Genji’s voice soothing in a way. Robotic, accented. Soft. His eyes were soft in that moment too. Lost in memory, perhaps. Jesse did not look too far into it.

Genji had gone quiet again after that, shifting where he could with the wires attached to his neck linked up to a computer behind him, something pumping modified biotics into the tubes in his arms, on the ports of his stomach. Uncomfortable, but not because of everything he was hooked up to.

I don’t know if I quite understand your situation, but never bein’ a normal kid? I get that. Nothin’ was ever normal for us except a weapon in hand and aimin’ it at someone else. Bein’ told to shoot. I guess in the grand scheme of it all, makes us no better than the bad guys, huh?

Genji looked back at him, assessing for a long moment.

We are not bad, we are just doing what we have to in order to survive. Kill or be killed. Join us or die.

I wish it wasn’t like that.

Another long moment passed, Genji gripping the edge of the examination table, eyes downcast.

Me too.

It was a long time before they spoke like that again. Missions kept them busy, and then training when they were not scheduled for them, Jesse occasionally going to meetings with Reyes while Genji went to the med bay with Dr. Ziegler to continue his modifications. They would pass one another in the halls. Jesse gave a tip of his hat and then added a wink until Genji finally began to acknowledge him back with a slight nod or raise of his brows. He liked to imagine there was at least a bemused smile under that faceplate when his eyes scrunched just a bit. Maybe.

They sparred together, started to train together after Reyes saw how well they worked as a team. Genji was good at quick, agile attacks up close while Jesse took on the long distance and range targets. Genji protected Jesse, and Jesse protected Genji in return. They got closer. Near death calls tended to do that to folks.

Genji talked to him more. Jesse told him stories and would get a few in return on the rooftops where the air was crisp and the sky was clear. Genji tried on his hat. Genji laughed. Just a small, quiet chuckle, but it left Jesse staring for a little too long. Genji noticed, Jesse tried to pretend his red cheeks were attributed to the cold as he snatched his hat back and drew it low over his eyes. He did not see the way Genji’s had softened again.

The next morning had them sitting in an airship, waiting to be dropped into a volatile zone overrun by null sector forces. They started out okay, but slowly, everyone got tired. They were only human, they made mistakes, slipped up. Null sector did not.

Genji did not.

Jesse was shouting into the comms for evac after he had to watch their third agent get shot down by a bastion unit, gunfire and static the only thing he was hearing in return. Jammed signals, bad luck. He dragged the corpse of a friend behind a building and had to leave it there, or they would all be one by the end of the day.

“We gotta get to higher ground where these things can’t jam our comms!” he called, Genji turning to him and nodding once before taking off towards the highest building. Jesse did not need an explanation, not between them. He motioned to what was left of their drop team.

“Move outta this hot spot! Stay behind cover, don’t leave one another’s backs unguarded. Get down that alleyway and take the first left, it’ll take you behind that main square, got it? We can find a place to hide out there, there’s just too many of these damn things here when we don’t have a shield!”

Jesse ordered, wishing not for the first time that he had someone like Reinhardt with him. Or at least a fully outfitted team like Overwatch always sent in. That would have been nice.

As it was, they had to run, Jesse getting everyone accounted for that was left before following up on the rear, eyes peeled for any sight of Genji.

He turned, gun spinning in hand and resting at his side as he counted the omnics marching towards him. Fifteen. He could do it. Six shots went of in tandem, six perfect bullet holes steaming through the first line of omnics. Jesse reloaded and did it again. Finished off the last two and ran down the alleyway, catching up with the rest of his team, ignoring the throbbing starting up behind his eyes.

“Bought us a little time. Come on, keep movin’.”

“McCree, we need more medical personnel,” Martinez urged, setting an agent down against the wall.

“Where’d Frazier go?”

“Dead.”

“Dammit.”

“There’s too many wounded right now if we need to make a quick getaway. Did Shimada not make it...?”

“Nah, he’s callin’ in evac for us. Stay here and do your best to patch everyone up, can you do that for me?”

Martinez nodded shakily, pulling out her med kit and going to the worst of the wounded in the group. Jesse made to check on the others, then saw a flash of red above them in his periphery. Genji landed in front of him not a moment later, the sound heavy, blood dripping down his shoulder. He did not seem to notice.

“It was all static, but I was able to find what was jamming them,” he reported, pointing to a building further into the hot spot. “I can get in there and take it out.”

“You ain’t goin’ back in there alone, that’s not how we do things around here. I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t need you slowing me down,” Genji bit out.

“How about we not think about it like that and instead say, ‘wow, thanks McCree for havin’ my back for me in case I get in over my head like I always do’, yeah?”

“I can do this by myself, you will only get hurt following me!”

“And what happens if you get hurt alone and then we all get killed ‘cause you couldn’t stand havin’ to take help from someone?!”

“Hey, boys, how about instead of arguing about it, you both hurry up and get us out of here. McCree’s right about one thing; if we don’t get out of here soon, we’re all toast, alright? We have people dying!” Martinez interrupted, glaring at the two of them as Jesse sighed.

“Come on,” he grumbled, moving in the direction of the building Genji had pointed out. Genji fell in stride with him after a moment, eyes shifting to him. Crimson narrowed darkly.

“If you die, I won’t let you rest peacefully.”

Jesse snorted, gaining a devilish grin.

“Darlin’, I ain’t ever planned on anythin’ but another spot deep in Hell when I die. Peace wasn’t even on the radar.”

Genji did not offer him a reply, simply quickened his pace and took off, leaving Jesse to follow behind with a sharp eye. They slipped past the rows of null sector stationed in the plaza in front of the building quietly, Genji motioning to a window just outside of their surveillance. He climbed into it, leaning over the edge with a hand outstretched. Jesse took it. Hauled himself inside and took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Genji waited. Static was running through the comms this close to the jammer, giving Jesse a headache. It was a large structure, pulses of blue light that shimmered leaving it in intervals.

“Damn...How’re we gonna take that thing out?”

“A detonator,” Genji offered, Jesse frowning.

“You wanna lure one of them in here?”

“It’s the best option we have. I cannot get near that thing, it interferes with my cybernetics.”

“And you were plannin’ on doin’ this alone?”

Genji merely glared, then pointed again. “There are three posted just outside the entrance. It should not be hard getting them inside.”

“But this signal will jam them too, right?”

“Not if we move them manually.”

Jesse stared at the ninja, sitting back on his thighs and pushing his hat up as he faced him fully.

“Lemme get this straight. You wanna shove one of them in here, somehow push them close enough to the jammer so that when they explode, it takes it out, all the while not letting the massive amount of null sector troopers out front know that we’re here?”

“Well, actually, I was thinking we let null sector do it for us. They have more fire power than we do, and if we stay behind the detonator, they will shoot it. They are programmed to neutralize enemies, no matter what is in front of them. We can take advantage of that.”

Jesse blinked. Frowned and ran a hand over his beard, chewing on his lip.

“Is it bad that I think that might actually somehow work?”

“Only if we do it right.”

“Alright. Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

It took some finagling. Genji’s steps were stuttering as if his limbs were not synching with the rest of him when he got too close to the jammer. It was just the two of them. Jesse was sweating. But they got the detonator inside the door, and it was hell unleashed as soon as they did. Genji knocked it in with a kick, Jesse shooting at the null sector omnics running in after him.

“Go! Get behind it now!” he shouted, Jesse ducking towards the jammer. Genji deflected, stumbled, found his feet again. It was close. A lot of cover fire from Jesse’s end needed just to get him behind a wall. He was shaking his head, blinking hard. They needed to get out of there.

Jesse was taking most of the attention from the null sector troops, staying just close enough to the detonator to ensure it was being pushed towards the jammer. And it was working. The detonator’s armour was falling, bright, fiery oranges and reds being revealed, the whole thing starting to shake. Jesse ran from it, back towards the window they entered through.

“Genji! Come on, it’s gonna blow any second!”

Genji looked up, eyes widening a bit, the red in them flickering. He tried to take a step, flesh hand going to his head when his leg buckled.

“Shit...” Jesse muttered, glancing at the detonator. He had time. He could make it. Peacekeeper sang as he ran. Ran for his life, ran to Genji. There was another window by him, they could go out that way. It lasted a lifetime. It lasted a second. Jesse grabbed Genji when he got to him, tugging him back up to stand.

“Come on! Just focus for me a little longer, alright? I need you to get up to that window and help me up, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The stutter was not intentional, Genji’s voice sounding more robotic than usual. Voicebox glitching. He blinked some more, then climbed the wall, reaching down for Jesse. His hand was taken, and they jumped from the window. Jesse jumped from the window.

Genji was not behind him.

“Genji? Genji!”

The detonator went off. Rubble flying, chunks of concrete, dust, fire. Jesse was blown back, arms up to cover his face. He felt debris hit him, his armour bending and cracking. Hit the ground and curled up, covering his head, eyes squeezed shut. When the rumbling stopped and the world was no longer shattering, Jesse finally glanced up. Ears ringing, dust in his lungs. He picked up his hat, blinking hard, coughing. Shook his head and ran into the rubble, calling for Genji but not hearing himself say it. Sound slowly started to come back to him, though, it was eerily quiet. Just the crackling of flames and debris falling.

“Genji! Come on, Shimada, where are you?!”

Jesse paused when he saw Genji’s sword laying toward the centre of the blast and he ran to it. Stumbled a bit, grabbed it from the ground. And there was Genji, lying just ahead of it, cybernetics sparking, blood running off his arm. From his nose. From his lips.

Jesse stared.

Genji’s faceplate was nowhere to be seen, scars littering his cheeks and around where synthetic met human. The bottom half of his jaw was black synthskin and mesh. A bruise was forming around one eye, cuts above it bleeding down his temple. With his eyes closed like this, he could almost be sleeping. Jesse stepped closer, kneeling beside him. Rolled him over and tilted his chin to the side, shaking him gently.

Pretty. Gods, he was so pretty.

“Genji? Hey, come on, do me one last favour and don’t be dead...Come on, bud...”

Genji’s eyelids fluttered, taking a shuddering breath in.

“Oh thank god. Alright, alright I got’cha. I’ll get us outta here.”

Jesse took his arm and hauled him over his shoulders, grabbing his katana once more and standing. Genji was heavier than he looked deadweight. Limp.

“You’ll be alright, we just gotta get back to the team, okay? Just hold on.”

Jesse did not even notice his limp until he was back in the alleyway, ducking behind cover and keeping one arm over Genji’s legs so he would not fall. Eyes peeled for any sign of danger. Three detonators going off all at once, destroying a building and the jammer within it was bound to draw in swarms of null sector. They needed to get out, and fast. Jesse tapped his comm.

“This is Agent McCree callin’ for immediate evac to Blackwatch team A-1207. We got lots of wounded and this place is about to get real hot. Does anyone copy?” Static was his only answer. Genji groaned softly, Jesse glancing at him.

Head hanging just off his shoulder. So close Jesse could see the veins under his eyes, the way his cuts were beginning to tack up. How long his lashes were, the little white scars by his temple that looked too old to be something he got from his brother or the cybernetics. Jesse’s comm crackled, drawing his focus back to the present.

“McCree, this is Fio, I copy. Commander sent me in to pick you all up when comms went down, said it was too risky leaving you like that. Been having to fight my way around null sector’s anti-aircraft weapons. I’ve got your coordinates, ETA five minutes.”

“Fio! You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice, sweetheart,” Jesse laughed breathlessly, Fio giving a chuckle back.

“Glad to hear you’re not dead, cowboy.”

“Don’t jinx me, now, I still got five minutes to survive.”

“I think you’ll manage. Hang in there.”

Jesse grinned, making it back to the team and setting Genji down gently. Something felt off about letting anyone else see his face, though, so he wrapped his scarf around Genji’s shoulders and neck, his head hanging down into it and covering what normally was hidden. It felt like a violation of privacy, in an odd way. Jesse didn’t think Genji would have wanted to be seen by anyone, not even him.

Fio landed on time as promised, taking what was left of the team back to base. Jesse’s body was beginning to hurt, adrenaline wearing off and leaving him exhausted and throbbing. His foot was messed up, and his shoulder. His armour was torn in some places, but it had done its job for the most part. Bruises were all he would be left with instead of bullet holes and a punctured lung. His nose was bleeding. It took Martinez coming over to him to tilt his head back and press some gauze beneath it for him to notice.

Jesse was too busy looking at Genji to notice much else.

He was patched up, made Martinez move on to someone else after insisting he was alright, that everything else could wait until they got back to the med bay. The ride home was long, and Jesse slept through most of it.

His scarf was returned folded neatly, Genji presenting it to him without a word. His faceplate was back, eyes shifting to look at anything but Jesse. Jesse, who grinned and took it back, leaning against the doorframe when Genji did not immediately run off.

“Lookin’ all shiny and new there, bud. Good to see you up and movin’ again. You saved us back there with that idea of yours, you know.”

Genji stood there for a moment, nodding after another.

“I could not have done it alone. I know I said otherwise, but. I needed you there.”

Jesse tisked and waved his hand goodnaturedly.

“Aw, shucks. Makin’ me feel all special now.”

“Do not get used to it,” Genji huffed, his eyes crinkling just a bit. Jesse could imagine a smile on his face now. How good it would look, how pretty he would be with it.

“But thank you. For pulling me out of there. And for that,” Genji motioned to the scarf, arms settling across his chest.

“Anytime. We’re a team, yeah? I got your back when you need me, alright?” Jesse hesitated only a moment, reaching out and placing a hand on Genji’s bicep, squeezing lightly before letting go.

Genji watched his hand drop. Eyes flicking up to his, stance shifting. He set his shoulders and nodded.

“Alright.”

“I’ll see you at trainin’, then.”

“Yes, see you then.”

Jesse slipped back into his room when Genji turned to leave. Ran a hand over the scarf. Set it on the foot of his bed and went to finish typing up a report, Genji on his mind. Jesse smiled.

#mcgenji #jesse mccree #genji shimada #blackwatch era #as if you have not been force fed enough of this already #WhiskeyWrites #that's all the tagging I'm doing I'm tired #enjoy my friends

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ayankun · 3 years

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WandaVision episode 6

FIRST OFF

Whenever I go back to pause things for clues, and find exactly what I’m looking for, I don’t feel justified, I feel that much more insane:

It’s really hard to make out, but I had an alright look at it on my folks’ QLED, and it’s definitely a flying saucer doing an alien abduction on what looks to be a person inside an old CRT TV (with some kind of robot head/boombox on top???) There are secret aliens in this show, you guys, the facts don’t lie.

HmmmMMMM I wonder if Agnes is as innocent as she looks:

Also, I didn’t see that she was wearing the brooch in this ep, and I was majorly disappointed in that.

Two things here:

No, that’s not a twins joke.

Another Moonmen Confirmed

I know green is his color or whatever, but that hat is literally 10 years ahead of its time

Also, I took the playing-DDR-at-home scenario at face value, and only on the first rewatch did I realize it was a very pointed turn-of-the-century reference. I am an Old.

There’s a good, subtle Rule of Threes in this ep. The Setup:

The Sokovian Halloween flashback works on so many levels. It’s so funny:

The fact that they went trick-or-treating at all

The “speaking Sokovian”

The treat being a fish

They have to share the fish

The concept that this event gave them an infectious disease

“You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma” -- it’s a good sitcom joke but. the trauma is the joke. The joke IS THE TRAUMA!!!

Elizabeth Olson is a dream with all her wonderful faces she has this ep.

Vision’s unsettling passive-aggression-sitcom-cooperation whiplash is WOW, consider me unsettled!!!!!! “Be. Good.” UGH.

(Just noticed one here, but there are a number of continuity errors in this episode, enough to be distracting later on, and is this a deliberate choice? Please let it be deliberate. I didn’t watch a whole lot of Malcolm in the Middle, is it known for its continuity errors?

)

“It’s their first Halloween.” LOLOLOL they are TEN YEARS OLD and this is their FIRST halloween I LOVE IT

DOUBLE RED HERRING CONFIRRRRRRRRMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Agent Jimmy Woo accidentally identifying himself as the sassy best friend added 20 years to my life.

Found. FOUND. Not “created,” “manifested,” “willed into being using my insane witch powers.” Third Party Confirmed.

I like that it’s the 90s and we can swear on TV now. “Hell” “kick-ass” “damn it” “fu---dge”

I think the most biting part of Vision finding the whacked out folks is that the soundtrack just kind of ... ignores that anything’s wrong. Yeah, it’s kinda-spooky Halloween music, but it’s still 100% in-world kinda-spooky-sitcom-Halloween-episode music.

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE AD:

As a 90s child, let me tell you, this is a blisteringly accurate representation of children’s marketing from the period. The shark is wearing sunglasses AND he has a surfboard!!! And he’s selling you yogurt of all things!!!!! This is the supreme distillation of what being a child in the 90s was like.

How disappointed I am that they went with crab instead of lobster.

Heard it through the grapevine that this is a representative of Wanda’s imprisonment on the Raft. That happened in Civil War, right? So the next ad is The Snap? We’re running out of iconic decades, too. so, hold on, new thought.

90s: Civil War

00s: Infinity War

10s?????: Endgame???? or?????????

??: Whatever happened between Endgame and WandaVision, given that the ads are stepping forward through Wanda’s IRL life events!!

I don’t want to know how many episodes are planned/announced, but I don’t know what to expect from the format after they run out of decades from which to draw. Maybe there are only one or possibly two “sitcom” episodes left. Maybe after that it just breaks down and they can pick and choose from the worlds/styles we’ve already established. That’d be p neat. A very unique kind of chaos.

god she’s so cute

Okay, somebody explain to me Pietro. I honestly walked away from last week thinking he was just some townsperson chump, but then I was reminded that this is the Quicksilver actor from all those X-Mans movies I never watched, soooo people are saying Multiverse Confirmed? But, if this is X-Mans’ Pietro, then why did he die the same as MCU Pietro? Or is he literally MCU!Pietro’s corpse, given that he looked all dead same as when she saw Vision’s corpse? If MCU!Pietro, then why different face???

????????????????

Also I found him highly suspicious, what with all the questions he was asking. But the only sort of person who would truly want to know the answers to those questions would be someone who already had them ... so I think he was just asking on behalf of the audience, and the delivery was all wonked out.

Rule of Threes - The Reference:

Ok, real talk, whenever computers/networks/data/encryption/servers/mainframes et al come up in mainstream media, I just look away. I don’t need the kind of psychic damage that comes with such egregious mishandling of the topic.

That being said, does Hayward having eyes through the barrier mean that he could possibly be involved in getting it set up? Because look. If Hayward-after-Hayward’s-Villianous-Ends is one antagonizing force, then is there really room for the Third Party (Confirmed) antagonizing force that’s lurking in the negative space silhouette of the Inciting Incident? With Wanda as the Red Herring antagonizing force, that’s just. There’s just too many villains, alright? We gotta start merging these plotlines.

(then again, when I just said “eyes” I realize probably understanding the true nature of his new secret “CATARACT” project will clear a lot of things up. I’ll wait for enlightenment)

Agnes’ license plate in this episode is 0A1-B2C, which I think is a reference to the way reality is getting pared down to bare bones at the edge of town. Note that this is not the same license plate number as seen last ep.

ALSO, I drove home behind a NJ plate just an hour ago, and was staring at it for a long time, trying to fit it into the puzzle before A) realizing that this was Real Life and not part of the show and B) WTF is a NJ plate doing in front of me in California. In any case, I can confirm that NJ plates do not appear to have this number-letter repeating format.

So let’s talk Agnes.

Demonstrated knowledge of the situation in ways others haven’t (”There’s the star of the show” “kids, you can’t control ‘em”)

Shows up when needed most (explained as being Wanda’s doing, but is it)

When Wanda was having her babies, though, who was trustworthy enough to be summoned? Was it Agnes?

Wanted to babysit REAL BAD

Was in the opening credits framed possessively with the twins

Doesn’t appear to have an IRL identity according to Jimmy’s crime board

Keeps talking about her husband but we’ve never seen him. Highly unlikely that he’s real

Was the one to find Sparky “dead” - internet thinks she was lying to Wanda about how or possibly if he was dead (I’m trying not to read the theories, so idk exactly what the angle is there)

In an episode where everyone is wearing their original comic outfits, Agnes is dressed as (and laughs like!) a witch

She name-drops Wanda as the one controlling everyone; Norm (or the guy playing Norm) only said “she” and “her” -- meaning Agnes?

Naughty

So we’re 99% sure Agnes is Agatha Harkness, right? I never read no comics, so I’m taking the internet’s word for it, but from what I can tell, I think we must be right. If that’s the case, then I’m thinking it’s not impossible for her to be pulling some strings around here (giving Wanda a justification for her “that wasn’t me” doorbell ring, for example, and pulling a double red herring on the fact that she shows up whenever the narrative Wanda her nefarious scheme calls for it).

To devil’s advocate myself, though, we also have Monica’s word that it was Wanda in her mind, lessening the impact of Agnes falsely confirming what Norm only implied. Also she’d have to be acting for Vision’s sake (and ours) and, if so, then what did Vision’s brain-touch really do, and how did she know he’d find her there, and what did she intend as the result of that interaction etc etc.

If Wanda’s (or Wanda + Third Party Confirmed (Agnes??)’s) powers aren’t enough to sustain the simulation of life on the edges of town, how much worse is it going to be now that there is even more area to try to control???

I don’t know if this is strictly an intended read, but the idea of Halloween as a fun, scares-for-entertainment’s sake type holiday, the rounding off the edges of concepts like “skeletons and ghosts are what people are after they die, let’s decorate the town with them and have a good time” kind of is a haunting parallel to the nature of Wanda (et al) covering up the horrible truth of the situation with this happy-go-lucky sitcom glamour.

How much does one hate seeing Vision giving his life for the greater good (the greater good) for the second time? In other news, I think I’m seeing some specifically Mind Stone type energy-colors coming off of him, and very little Wanda type energy-colors. Third Party Confirmed.

Also, I was thinking from last week that perhaps Hayward’s Villainous Ends included capturing the reanimated Vision to be one of those Sentient Weapons his organization is all about, but I Do Not Think his reaction to seeing that sought-after prize disintegrate in front of his eyes really matches up with that theory. Again, will be patiently waiting for Jimmy to check his email to see what CATARACT is all about!

Rule of Threes - The Payoff:

Also, anyone ID the movie playing in the background?

Ok, final thought. I watched this about four times today, and on the big-ass TV at my parents’ house finally paused and got up close to see what that white shape is in the reflection. Thought it might be a skull, but, it’s worse.

These caps do not contain enough data to verify my claim, but I PROMISE YOU it’s a TV

A square old thing with a round screen and antenna on top.

I SWEAR to you, when I looked into the TV, into Wanda’s eyes, only to see the reflection of a TV, of her looking at me looking at her I had a visceral fear reaction. Like. LEGIT nauseous skin crawl.

(All the other episodes have ended with our POV as the fourth wall, from the general (or exact!!!) position their household TV is known to be.)

This is my favorite show Of All Time.

#WandaVision #1x06 #All-New Halloween Spooktacular!

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autisticblueteam · 4 years

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It’s that time of year! RvB18x01 Episode Thoughts beneath the cut:

I watched this episode 4 times. And that’s not even counting the times I watched it when it dropped after RTX. So yes, I’m hyped for this season.

The animation is going to take time to get used to, but the more I watch the more I adapt. There’s less head bobbing sometimes because of the mo-cap and it’s a little uncanny, at first, but honestly I like it overall. The fights are fun, the body language is fun. The general aesthetic has obviously changed but I don’t really care, honestly. I can handwave most of it with personal explanations. (edit: on yet another watch through, I’ve realised that despite early complaints from some folk, there are halo weapons being used. the non-halo ones are clearly going to be used by the villains and shatter, instead, whose circumstances are different, so I care even less now)

Plus, there’s some tiny details that I really appreciate. The marines using stun batons feels like a call to Lina’s old use of them as a non-lethal measure.

I already love all the characters. One and East’s rivalry, Raymond’s general vibe, the villains... since the first time I saw the ep we’ve had more info and (spoiler for another clip they put out) since it looks like we might be getting Axel being One’s adoptive dad, it’s given me more appreciation for their interactions in the car chase. He gives her the dad finger. I really hope that reading of that clip is right now.

Phase is fun, and I really want to know what her thing is with Carolina. Calling her out by name, when none of the villains call Wash by his name. The fact Diesel had to tell her not to get distracted when facing down Carolina. The fact she specifically was the one to knock Carolina out, the ‘next time, freelancer’. Something is going on there and I’m living for it.

Now, Wash. First of all, I love him, his snarking at Viper was so fucking him but also why do you think she’s going to stick that thing up something, sir? Sir? I had to laugh.

And, okay, I get why people’s gut reaction to the start of the episode is to assume they’re purely handwaving or ‘fixing’ his brain damage but there’s a couple things about that. One, the line is: fixed it with ‘...cutting edge robotics and old kitchen appliances’. Which... that sounds like Sarge bullshit. Moreover, it’s clearly gossip, going by the fact they then claim he has mundane superpowers they can’t actually name. What I could honestly see being the case is Sarge either did something in his Sarge-y way that’s helped Wash cope or its a result of Sarge helping to spread rumours.

The other option is... Wash actually got better. Grey herself said in s16 that it was possible that, with time and treatment, Wash’s cerebral hypoxia would fade to a more manageable level (’ You know, the brain is an organ. Like any other part of the body, it will repair itself! To a point.’) It’s a condition that can get better. So... as much as it’s maybe annoying that they might be handwaving it (which we don’t know that they are yet, this is only episode one and our only source is a marine gossiping) it’s not something I’m too riled up about.

Overall I am really enjoying this, I know it’s only episode one but if it sticks strong... I’m going to enjoy this season. I miss the OGs, of course I do, but the new characters interest me and I do love my Freelancers. I’m here to have a good time, as long as it’s enjoyable I can work around anything else, just like I have with every other season of this wonderful mess of a show.

#rvb18 #rvb zero #rvbzero #rvb zero spoilers #rvb first spoilers #rvb spoilers #rvb18x01 #blue talks about fandom #rvb18 spoilers

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rollingthundermusic · 4 years

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Some Albums I Like (1966-2000)

In my years on this Earth, I’ve had the pleasure of listening to a lot of music. It’s my belief that all music is redeemable to some extent. To the average listener, whatever gets their toe tapping or their head banging is good enough. But some music is truly horrendous. I mean an especially sick brand of diarrhea. This list is not dedicated to those crappy songs. This list is to give you an idea of the songs that get my toes tapping and my head gently bobbing (I’m not about to catch any neck problems). Because I can be pretty type A sometimes, this list is in chronological order of release. This is also not a definitive list of the music I like. That list would be an unreasonable length. This is just a small smattering, a peek at my biases, and a little blurb to sum up my thoughts. This will also help me keep track of my own biases, and I’ll update these lists as more music permeates my ears.

1966, Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan: You want blues? Bam! You want folk? Wah-Bam! You want rock? Boom! A musical three-way for the history books.

1966, Black Monk Time by The Monks: What do you get when you give 5 American GI’s stationed in West Germany band equipment? A proto-punk classic that really convinces you that LSD hit differently in the 60’s.

1969, Back in the USA by MC5: At the cost of sounding like Dave Marsh, this album fucking rocks.

1969, Loaded by The Velvet Underground: Lou Reed would leave the band over some pettiness in the production of this record, but besides that drama it was an amazing record. And considering Reed would go on to make atrocities like Metal Machine Music, it’s best that this album be the band’s swan song.

1970, After the Gold Rush by Neil Young: Young’s folk rock masterwork. Thoughtful, beautiful, and oh so graceful.

1971, Let’s Stay Together by Al Green: A basic choice, no doubt, but I’d like to believe that love is something fun, and Green lets me revel in that fantasy.

1974, Apostrophe(‘) by Frank Zappa: Again, pretty basic, but the lyrical and instrumental content is anything but.

1975, Blood On The Tracks by Bob Dylan: Emotionally violent and full of resentment, Dylan teaches us how to truly hate ourselves.

1975, Born to Run By Bruce Springsteen: We’re all losers, but us losers have the biggest dreams, and Springsteen is the loudest loser of us all.

1975, The Who By Numbers by The Who: Townshend, Daltry, Enwistle, and Moon (but mainly Townshend) present: Getting Old Sucks But We’re Fucking Rockstars So Fuck You! A Musical.

1975, Zuma by Neil Young and Crazy Horse: A pointed and strong record; Young is relentless and alive on this LP.

1976, Trans-Europe Express by Kraftwerk: Humans will soon be boinking robots and cyborgs on a mass scale, and this album will suddenly become very relevant again.

1977, News of the World by Queen: Why make prog rock when you can make bombastic, anthemic albums like this one?

1978, Darkness on the Edge of Town by Bruce Springsteen: Raw, focused, mature, and powerful. Our dreams are dead, but we’re still kicking.

1980, Bebe Le Strange by Heart: Men suck.

1980, Empty Glass by Pete Townshend: The one thing about love that Townshend leaves out in this album is that love is blind, which may explain why I like this album so much.

1983, Rescue by Clarence Clemons and the Red Bank Rockers: Came for the Big Man’s saxophone, stayed for Bowen’s sexy voice.

1984, Suddenly by Billy Ocean: Soul music has always had a home in the American South, but the English, in their imperialistic ways, really wanted to get in on that action. This is the only time that imperialism actually contributed something good to the world.

1989, Bleach by Nirvana: Kurt Cobain is screaming at you, but he’s really screaming at himself. It’s chilling to hear the words on this album when you know how his story will end.

1991, I Wish My Brother George Was Here by Del tha Funkee Homosapien: Del’s voice is the butter on this Culver’s Burger of an album.

1993, In Utero by Nirvana: Soul crushingly hopeless and angry, an inside look at the mind of a man who already decided he was gone. It’s painful.

1994, Illmatic by Nas: Never will we see a record utterly destroy the competition like this one. A watershed moment for rap, one that we still feel the effects of today.

1996 Iron Man by Ghostface Killah: Wu-Tang either prepared him for a solo career, or it was holding him back. This album proves it was the latter.

1998, The Shape of Punk to Come by Refused: Name any underground/hardcore punk song that came out in the 2000’s and 2010’s, and I’ll tell you how this album influenced it. I think they knew what they were doing when they named this record.

2000, Deltron 3030 by Deltron 3030: Del tha Funkee Homosapien teamed up with Dan the Automator and DJ Kid Koala to make a hip hopera that’ll still be good in the year 3030.

I’ll have a list of 2000’s/2010’s albums coming soon, because this one’s getting a bit too long. Until the next time.

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themirthfulroadrunners · 3 years

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D.C. - His and Hers

Debbie’s View of Planet D.C. & Beyond:

Unlike Sparky, (read below) I am not steeped in the subjects of history and politics. When in a so dedicated place, I tend to look for other things that attract my interest, and in many cases, find bits to point and laugh at.

As Wayne describes below, our visit to the nation’s capital/capitol was done in very unique societal circumstances which was actually fine and dandy with moi. I loved the fact that most tourists chose to stay away and await a future time when normality returns, if there even is so much as a hope for such. The fact that we could drive our car safely and efficiently into and around the Mecca of Democracy and Tourist Magnet thrilled me.

We did, however, take a ride on the city’s Metro train. At one point, we were the only riders in our particular car. Zounds! The train was clean and felt very safe, affording us several minutes to watch our fellow man going through the paces of what was likely an ordinary day in the life (I read the news today, oh boy …). I didn’t capture any funny or blog-worthy vignettes from these rides but low-drama is desirable on subways anyway, especially in these politically-charged times.

East Coast food disappointed both of us. Maybe we merely chose wrongly, but we awarded zero 5 star reviews. In the category of Grossest Thing EVER there is Scrapple. Feeling a bit uncharacteristically adventurous, Wayne ordered some with his breakfast at an Annapolis, MD deli (Chick & Ruth’s Delly). Myself, apparently osmosing some of the above-mentioned adventurousness, tasted one bite. My taste buds immediately sounded an alarm, sorta like the one that the robot in Lost in Space blared continuously to Will Robinson: WARNING!! DANGER!! Every part of my being wanted the hateful stuff REMOVED FROM THE AREA IMMEDIATELY. A gag SO wanted to happen, but I comported myself as a lady should when in public and the alien substance safely went down the correct cavity, followed by a long gulp of water. You’ll have to Google scrapple’s recipe, but when asked, our waitress replied that it is made from “pig.” Most everything else I tasted in this region was bland, but that beats gag-worthy, huh?

The offensive scrapple is the brown block on the upper plate. Closer plate is a ginormous crab cake.

Annapolis was, um, Claustrophobia Central, at least to me. Beautiful and historic houses, but streets about 6 inches wide with parking on BOTH SIDES had me holding my breath to somehow magically shrink our Ford Edge to Matchbox Car size in order to squeeeeeeeze through. Streets everywhere, going every which way. They’ve never heard of an urban grid, I guess, but these neighborhood houses are roughly 400 years old. Apparently, SUVs were much smaller back then.

Delaware was a destination one day, just because, why not? We get a kid’s kick out of dipping into nearby states merely to check them off the list. So … we went there, ate lunch, went back to Maryland where we were house sitting. Sorry, nothing of interest that would fill up a paragraph.

D.C. was heavily guarded, or at least it sure looked that way to me. Very understandable in light of January 6, but access was almost not to be had, though we did see all the pertinent exteriors and the monuments. We did enjoy a boat ride on the Potomac, past the infamous Watergate Building and a couple more sites of interest to politics/history junkies, blah blah. Not technically D.C. but we walked a bit in Arlington National Cemetery. Barricades kept us from actually seeing JFK’s grave, but we did see the eternal flame, which is kinda the bigger icon, at least to this Baby Boomer.

The Watergate Office Building

Robert E Lee’s home in the background.

Our housesit was in a tiny burg on the west coast of the Chesapeake Bay. It is very low there, just plain swampy in some areas. We had one unseasonably warm day before a storm when the humidity rivaled anything I’ve felt in Arkansas. The trees in the region are rather unimpressive in circumference, but grow to towering heights, making me fear a bit for their sturdiness during a very windy day/night. Maybe they’re slender but elastic; there was no news of massive tree loss afterwards.

That’s it for me, folks. Take it away Sparky …

Wayne’s take on Washington D.C. –

This was my third trip to D.C., and somewhat disappointing in that our visit was while Covid19 limits were still in place, and it followed the January 6 insurrection.

We were restricted not only from visiting and touring the Capitol, but even from getting close enough to have truly said we were there. Thank you very much you “Big Lie’ Insurrectionists.

I can’t/won’t say that I’m proud to be an American because after all, that is just a matter of the fortunes of birth. I could just as well have been born to anyone else, anywhere else on the planet. I have done nothing American to be proud of, even if pride was a notable quality. I have voted, and I have honorably served in the United States military. So there is that.

The Capitol building is where our elected representatives decide whether to go to war, or not, who does, or does not, get healthcare protections, who pays taxes, and who does not, whether we protect the environment, or not. This is where our representatives determine who won our democratically elected president. And thanks to the battle of January 6, democracy prevailed over autocracy. The flag above the Capitol is the one that all flags flown from every Post Office to every front porch represents. This is the flag of our nation. This is the flag of America.

The White House has been the home of our elected leader for well over two hundred years, the virtual leader of the free world for a century. It was burned up in 1814 by the soldiers of England, our present greatest ally. Residents of the White House have ranged from the awe-inspiring to the heinous. Andrew Jackson defied the Supreme Court, refusing to comply with their ruling on the Cherokee Indians, and then compelled all Indians to forfeit their lands, despite legal treaties and in many cases total adoption of the American culture, and to remove themselves to the Oklahoma Territory. Other presidents started wars while yet others saved our country, and even the world with military involvements. Our president(s) live/lived here.

We toured all the memorials – memorials to our national heroes, and to the servicemen who fought and died in our wars. I expect most of our true heroes remain unsung. Some might say that too many of our infamous remain unhung.

Forrest Gump’s spot

Supreme Court Building

America Bless God

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