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#could you believe its my first time drawing Hank since Madness Day?
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Commission for @the-slitherings !!
Im very happy with how it turned out!
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Male Selkie: Jaemos
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Anon ask: Could you write a love/lemon story about a lonely 17 year old who goes to the ocean to shed seven tears into the sea in hopes to summon a male selkie? And perhaps you could have the selkie be named Jaemos or Robert. As for looks the selkie should have a fair complexion, sparkly hazel eyes, and gorgeous curly brown hair. Tysm. ;)
I would feel uncomfortable writing a lemon since the reader would be under 18, but I will probs write another part to this soon.
Warnings: some language
Male monster x GN Reader
Seven Tears to Shed
It seemed easy enough, but it appeared ridiculous. But in the end, what more could you lose?
The water waded through you, swaying and parting as you got deeper into the lake of sapphire. Hopping into your small boat and sailing out, you appreciated the weather being so calm – thank God – with few to no ripples that swayed the boat you sat on the further you got out. You didn’t want to be dealing with nausea if the boat was swaying from bad weather, so that was something to be thankful for.
Would this work though? You held your scepticism, unveiling the crude crumpled note from your jeans pocket, the scribbles of jotted notes you had taken that you had copied so plainly. Seven tears to shed to gain another. The fable was spread from fisherman wives than to book and to social media; some holding the theories that it worked compared to some who thought of it as nothing more than a hoax.
But you liked to think of yourself as someone who expected so much but only got so far for disappointment, knowing full well that this would not go so well.
You looked to the jotted down instructions, each numbered with your own notes added to help your thoughts. Now, the easier part was done, the hardest was getting into the mood to cry. Easier said than done. You snorted, looking over the calm water, seeing the glum figure you couldn’t recognise staring back up at you.
Number one: Someone you once loved.
You snorted unflattering in the cold air to yourself, “This is ridiculous.” 
But the ridiculousness of it all would help. Someone you once loved, simple: your crush of Jeremy Miller in the 7th grade. Popular, smart, blond hair and blue-eyed, he was the golden child, not a jock like all the other boys your age, Jeremy was well known for his love for acting. You had only shared a conversation with him maybe once, and that had been by accident, but you and your naïve mind looked way into his simple word of kindness for someone like you. But that crush died and crumbled like ash to the ground when you found out that your secret crush on him had been spread thanks to your cheerleader Eloise got hold of your diary, choosing to tell everyone and him. He turned out to be just as much as a dickhead as she had been, and for the rest of the year, you chose to hide along the school walls, the standing joke everyone looked for.
That first tear had come easier than you had expected: the anger helped especially. It ran down your cheek and slipped into the water with little force to break the surface, disappearing. So long, fucker. You anger dissipated before moving on.
Number two: Someone you lost.
This was more sentimental to you, and upon seeing the way how your handwriting became illegible, shaky to the end of the line, it told you it would be rather difficult. You clasped the side of the boat with an unsettling exhale, the one person that only came to mind was your grandmother you had lost a few years ago. Old age had taken her but it had taken her away so beautifully, bringing her to join the nature you were surrounded by now. You could feel her no matter where you went, a twirl of the breeze in your hair, a canary’s singing when your window was open, you knew she was always there.
The second tear was followed with a cry that resounded in your chest, too close to your heart, and took some time to finally calm. The water rippled with its decent to guide your tear gently, engulfing it smoothly. You wiped the back of your red wet face with the back of your sleeve, telling yourself to resume before you got too caught in the moment.
Number three and four were similar, both requiring you to of lost something but for you to gain it once again. In the end, it didn’t matter whether that thing was personal to you, you had to say goodbye to it. You had lost the happiness you once felt as a child, but to the benefit of it all, you resided to your privacy by drawing. It wasn’t much, but it helped keep bad thoughts away on some days, allowing you to do what you loved best.
Number five was someone you missed the most in your life, and although the memories stung like the previous tears, the face that stuck was your best friend at the time, Jade. And although the good times could be seen, it didn’t hide the stuck up and two-sided personality she wielded, using you for her own gain. In the end, the friendship ended with much more ease than sorrow. But seven years’ worth of torment could get anyone relieved for it to be over, and so those tears were in her farewell.
Number six and seven had arrived with little to no faith you held in how it would end. Proving that maybe after all that crying, it would be pointless. You sighed heavily, reading over the last two, drawling the right thoughts.
Number six: Yourself
Though there were many things you loathed of yourself, you didn’t want others to feel sympathetic to your story, nor other the fact that you were indeed lonely. Your story was long and convoluted, but you wished someone was good and decent enough to read it from the beginning. This farewell for your own loneliness was the one you wished to see gone the quickest.
All these tears: one for anger, two for loss, two for relief, one in farewell whilst the last was for a new beginning. It could be anything you wanted, wished or craved for – but better beginnings sounded all too promising.
Number seven: A final wish
“I wish… I just wish for someone patient to listen, not to question, but let me feel something.” You said aloud, finally ripping at the paper as you scattered it to the wind, allowing that final droplet to run down your cheek.
You weren’t expecting instant miracles and in those seconds of having said your wants and crying away the past, you listened to the rush of water surging closer to your boat, and at that moment when you opened them, you were surprised with a little visitor.
The fur of the seal was plump and grey, silvery in contrast to the murky waters as it twirled and moved closer to your boat, its wide black eyes staring up into yours as it made eye contact with you as it continued to travel, passing by you and coming up behind the boat, where you believed it would disappear on with its journey.
You snorted to yourself, “I’m losing it. I can’t believe I was talking to a seal.”
“Correct, but I suppose that’s what people like to believe.” A sudden voice was so clear as rain, smooth and whimsical startled you so that you almost rocked off the side of your boat, coming from behind you. “These waters have never been so calm, heh, though… it’s not every day someone comes to shed their seven tears.”
This couldn’t be true… you were in the middle of a lake, yet you were certain you could hear a clear voice almost next to you. “Who’s there?” Your confusion and worry were evident in your tone, where the voice - clearly male - replied, “You could call me what you want, but I would like to call myself your listener.”
“That’s bullshit—you must’ve followed me… there’s no way you could’ve magically appeared… unless,” then it hit you. The grey seal, following along the side of your boat when you cried your final tear, moving behind the boat. No-
You turned to peer over the edge of your boat with some hesitancy, believing all you would see would be a small adorable seal, when in fact you were totally wrong. The first thing that came into your sight was the blinding porcelain white skin that seemed almost blinding in the deep waters. They were drenched, with only their mop of wet curly brown hair on show, and wide hazel eyes that seemed to almost sparkle in the water’s surface. This man was too beautiful to be anything but your saviour. No, maybe a swimmer coming through or just a weird dude who was creeping on a 17-year-old-
“You seem lost, dear,” the handsome male stretched up until more of his bare torso was out from the water. “Penny for your thoughts?”
This person could’ve been a madman, preying on young people like you, and you were out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to defend yourself with. That’s what you should’ve been thinking, but your mind only came to think of one thing at that moment.
“You’re a seal?”
“A selkie, your people usually call me, though it’s not every day I’m called that.” The male laughed, supporting himself so casually by propping his lithe arms against your boat. “Any other questions?”
You shook your head in disbelief, trying to gauge at what you were really believing. Was your head that mad that you were imagining a completely different creature to you? “Were you listening to me? Listening to me cry?”
“As creepy as it seems, to shed seven tears grants you the final everlasting wish you so dream for,” the selkie replied. “You wished for someone – a friend – perhaps, and well… here I am.”
“So, you listen to everyone crying and you grant wishes? Do you grant the same wishes to everyone?”
“Not quite,” he laughed. “Everyone has different wishes, and so did you, but I just so happen to give the perfect gift of all.”
You titled your head, eyebrows raised incredulously, “Yourself?”
“My power does not lie between what I allow and grant, but… I thought I would allow myself to help with your certain request.”
There was an awkward pause that waved itself in the air between the two of you. “So, you’re like my friend or something?”
“I’m a protector, whatever you wished for, so a listener,” there was a loud thud that resonated within the boat, and when you looked, he had thrown something thick like a grey blanket in, sopping wet. “That there is yours to keep.”
“What—your skin?”
“You don’t know many things about selkies, do you, dear?” He laughed, pointing to the pelt. “When a human catches a selkie and keeps its pelt, the selkie cannot transform or return to the water. So, forever more until you get bored of me, I am forever bound to you.”
You snorted out in disbelief, “No, you can’t be serious.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot lie, I tell the truth as we speak.” This man-
“No, listen, I’m 17. What are my parents going to say when I return with some naked stranger who I found in a lake? They’ll think I’m insane, more so than already!” I can’t be this guy’s carer, I can barely even look after myself.
“Hey,” the selkie’s voice was calm yet cheerful when he brought you out of your freak-out. “We’ll get through this together. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind me looking after you.” If only you knew my parents. You dreaded, before finally coming up with an idea.
“I cannot keep your pelt.”
The pale male’s face had dropped suddenly at the drastic sombreness of your words, his eyes turned downcast. “Oh, right.” He went to let go of the boat’s side but you were quicker to grab his hand, making him turn back to you with surprise. “No, what I mean is, for the safety of both of us, you can stay here. Where you’re at home, and I can come to visit, since if you are to be my listener, we need to make sure you’re comfortable too, right?”
He wanted to reply to you, his mouth opening and shutting but finally, he said, “I guess. But, you must promise. If we are to be friends, we must trust each other. I am certain on my word, are you?”
You still couldn’t believe everything that today had thrown at you, let alone you were wanting to agree, but you were too curious for your own good. “Yeah, sure. I promise.”
He beamed a white smile back at you again, your chest rising and falling as something warm replaced what was usually so empty, fading again before you could realise. It was… nice. 
“What’s your name then, Mr seal?”
The selkie was halfway through putting back on the seal pelt, melding seamlessly with his human body as if he was zipping up a costume without needing a zipper. It looked comical to you, but it was still amazing to witness.
“Jaemos, or Robert, though that was thanks to some little girl deciding to call me that one time,” he laughed to himself, his teeth just as white as his skin. His bright eyes looked back into yours once more. “Whatever is easier to remember.”
“Jaemos it is then since it was the first option.” You smiled softly, grabbing at the ores to begin your way back to the shore before you looked back on him. “Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, could you lend me a flipper to push me back to shore?”
“You would never be too much trouble, dear,” he replied, lifting himself onto the side you were on so suddenly, almost like he was throwing himself in the boat, before affectionately twisting a piece of your hair behind your ear, laughing when he saw your beet-red cheeks warm. “That’s something troubled people would say.”
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shyflameweasel · 3 years
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This is in the same universe as this. I honestly have no clue why I wrote this but here it is.
Once more, your impromptu roommates never cease to amaze you. Its still up in the air on whether or not that was a good thing however. So instead of anymore health questions (you think it stopped cause at one point someone hurled on the carpet) things had relatively settled into some form of mad normality.
Until the new neighbors got involved. They moved in maybe a week ago and seemed relatively normal at the time. It wasn’t that they were crazies or a bunch of murders, which was apparently your house instead, nope. It was that they seemed to think that they had the full reign to be in everyone’s business while letting their kids run amok. And that as neighbors they could bug you at all hours of the day for ‘neighborly favors’. You don’t mind helping someone out now and again. But you draw the line at someone complaining that your door wasn’t unlocked for them to waltz right in.
‘Oh I’m sooo sorry about that. Here let me give you my bank information, the keys to my house, my social security and my ID. Ya nooo.’
You refused to be pushed around like that. And it wasn’t much better when one of their spawn ‘At this point you couldn’t call them kids but calling them gremlins would be an insult to the gremlins’ for some reason were just...looking through your window cause that’s an entirely normal thing to do and saw one of your roommates. How do you know that? Because they told you after banging on your front door and trying to force themselves into your home demanding to quote unquote see the alien.
It was a bit of a hassle but you had managed to get out of the door to close it behind you so they wouldn’t try to get into the house. Leaving yourself and the two kids outside. The older of the two, a little girl of nine, stamped her foot. “We wanna see the alien!” she harrumph, glaring as well as small child could. Her little brother, six years old, nodded his head. 
“Ok, why do you think there’s an alien in my house?” “Cause we saw them in the kitchen.” “Well you’re wrong there- wait” you paused for a second realizing something. You’re kitchen couldn’t be seen from the front window so that would mean... “Why were you looking in my window? More importantly why were you in my backyard?” “Bored.” You take a deep, calming, breath in. It wouldn’t do anything if you got mad at the kids. It took a lot of convincing that no, there was no ‘alien’ and that they wouldn’t be taking them on any space adventures. Luckily they didn’t throw their normal fit and headed back home.
You thought that was the end of that...until a couple days later another neighbor, this one non-crazy, came up to you. Apparently the spawn you caught trying to break into your house had told their mom you had an ‘alien’ living with you. But she took that as a different kind of alien and started spreading that you had an illegal person living with you. You may not have been too sure if the dudes could legally be at your house since they were a completely different species but still! Thanking them you went back to your house, neither of the parents would be back for a couple hours so you had to wait.
You fell face first into your couch groaning. These people have been trouble from day one. “Hey, you okay there?” Reluctantly removing your head from the cushion, you saw Deimos standing in the hallway. You gave a half-hearted wave before face planting back into the couch with a grumble. Maybe you could put off the inevitable headache. Apparently he didn’t get the memo as a few moments later something poked your cheek. Repeatedly.
Tilting your head enough to uncover an eye, you glared at his toothy grin. “Ah come on. No need for that. Why not tell little old me what’s got ya panties in a twist?” You considered that for a moment. They had heard you complain about the neighbors before. (”If they’re so annoying why not kill them?” “Hank, no. That’s illegal.” “Not in Nevada.” “Well your Nevada was a free for all murder fest.”)
Grumbling, you momentarily drop your plans of suffocation by cushion and sit up. “It’s the neighbors again.” You think he raised his eyebrow, kinda hard to tell from his lack of eyes. “Again? What they asking ya to babysit their brats again or gettin huffy about ya not lettin them come over.” Groaning you drag your hand over your face, “No, the mom’s spreading rumors that I have illegals in my house.” “Illegals?” “People that got into the country without a passport and paperwork.”
Deimos seemed slightly confused at that “Huh. And that’s bad why?” You reconsider your suffocation plan “It’s bad because if someone believes what she says they could call the cops.” He snorts. “No I’m serious Deimos, I have no clue how they would react to you guys. If they don’t arrest you for not being...y’know” you gestured to all of him “Plus I’m pretty sure you guys are living here free.” “One rude and two we pay rent.” “Dude I’m pretty sure you’re all committing tax evasion.” You had absolutely no clue how they were even paying rent and a part of you didn’t want to know.
Shaking that thought and its implications away, you get back on some tract. “I’m gonna try talking to the mom when she gets home from work in a couple hours to try and fix this mess. Hopefully things will go my way.” You really hope you didn’t jinx yourself...
And you jinxed yourself. When you tried to talk to her she did her best to brush you off. And when you brought up how her kids shouldn’t be in a strangers backyard she had the gall to laugh at you. Not only had she not punished her kids for basically trespassing on your property, she congratulated them on finding out about your ‘alien’ friend. If this woman wasn’t crazy you’d eat your favorite hat. So after unsuccessfully trying to talk some sense into the woman she slammed the door in your face. Sighing, you decided that you’ll try to catch the husband before he leaves for work tomorrow and see if he could talk some sense into his wife.
You’re pretty sure this is where things seemingly went off the rails. Because after having just as much luck with the husband as you did his wife, you didn’t hear from them for about two weeks. When you did hear from them it was when you got home to see a moving truck in their freeway and a for sale sign in the front yard. Catching a glimpse of them the parents looked disheveled and twitchy. Trying to catch their attention had them flinching and scrambling back into the house when they saw that it was you.
You found that a bit weird but went inside anyway to be greeted by a smug atmosphere. Deimos was sitting on the couch with a laptop but turned to you with a sharp toothed smirk. You had a gut feeling that something had happened that you wouldn’t like. It was proven right. “So I saw that the neighbors are movin out. Pretty weird I gotta say.” “Deimos-” “Real shame, they seemed like such nice folks.” “Deimos.” “They were just getting settled in and everythin.” “Deimos!” That got him to quiet down but did nothing for his shit eating grin. “What. Did. You. Do.”
Apparently he and the others took offense to the possibility of law enforcement. (”Not like it would do much but it would be annoying to loose a cozy place like this.”) So they, not including 2BDamned who seemed to be the only one with some kind of sense, decided to go to war with the neighbors. Which included but not limited to: messing with their cars, hacking their computers, ominously standing somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, sharpening weapons, moving everything in the house slightly off by an inch. Three fully grown and fully trained men decided that one annoying family in the suburbs was a threat.
You stood there blinking unable to grasp exactly you just heard. So you did the next best thing. Go straight to your room and sleep because you sure as hell did not know how you ended up with these loons.
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thedarkplume · 3 years
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Throwback Thursday
Dust off those browsers, friends. We’re gonna travel back in time to the stories that brought us into the fandom or the ones that have stuck with you through the years.
Share your super old faves and reblog them, showing the authors their classics are not forgotten. Leave them a love note showing them how much it means to you.
Then reblog the first story you wrote for your current fandom or even the first one you wrote for each fandom you belong to. The world is our oyster. Let’s rediscover some pearls.
I'm not going to lie. This Ask made me a little bit sad. There have been some really great writers on this site that have left us for unspecified reasons, and some for the childish bullying that seems to be a daily thing.
One of my favorite blogs was @chocolatecherubs. They were a blog that was written specifically for black female characters in the Marvel Universe, with Steve and Bucky as the central love interests, particularly during the 1940s.
However, all is not lost! There are still plenty of blogs that I follow and love and can always count on to provide the most entertainment you can achieve without picking up an actual book. One of the blogs who always delivers on this front regardless of the subject matter is the beautiful and talented @avintagekiss24 . I've been following her for a year and it has been a nonstop rollercoaster of fun, excitement, surprise, and even a little bit of heartbreak.
@avintagekiss24 has so many stories that I reread over and over again, it's nearly impossible to pick just one. But...if I did have to choose a classic in a split-second decision it would be Night Shift. This was my first time ever reading a story about Andy Barber and since then I have not stopped!
As for my own forays into fanfiction, I've written for Twilight, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Cruel Intentions, a few WIPs for We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Knives Out, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and that's not counting all of the stories knocking around in my head vying for attention!
Here is a VERY old Buffy the Vampire Slayer story I wrote.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Buffy/Angelus
Setting: 1700s, New Colonies
A/N: This story is a little different from the others I’ve written. This story is set in the days of Angelus’ life when Drusilla had just turned Spike. Bear with me if everything is not exactly up to par historically – I am not a history buff! NSFW 18+ Warnings for offensive language, subject matter, violence, blood, gore, and sexual abuse.
His features could not be termed uninteresting—there lay in them something bold and daring—but the expression on the whole anything but benevolent. There were contempt and sarcasm in the cold dark eyes, whose glance, however, was at times so piercing that no one could endure it long.
from The Mysterious Stranger (1860) – Anonymous
What is obsession? Is it the madness that consumes a man when he’s confronted with the one thing he knows he is not supposed to have? Is it the burning desire to possess the aforementioned object, ensuring that she will only think of him as he only thinks of her? Angelus paced back and forth in his chosen room of the mansion. Darla was still off reconnecting with Dracula and giving Angelus some much-needed breathing room. While she was off having her own adventures, he moved his childe and grandchilde to the American Colonies. They were in the colony named New York. Angelus loved the New Colonies. The women were not as sexually repressed, and the humans as a whole were more trusting. Since their arrival, government officials, writers, artists, scholars – everyone who held wealth and power had invited Angelus, his “sister” Drusilla and her husband William, to parties. There was nothing Angelus enjoyed more than drunk socialites.
And it was at one of these parties that he saw her. The object of his obsession. Elizabeth Anne Summers. Buffy, to those who knew her intimately. She had long, golden blonde hair, not unlike Darla’s, but hers had more of a silky texture. Her eyes were large and hazel, brimming with innocence. She had sun-kissed skin that seemed to glow underneath the moonlight.
Angelus wanted her. He wanted to bury his fangs and his cock inside her. Her scent proved that she was untried, but that would only last so long. Angelus found out everything he could about her. She was promised to the governor’s son. She lived with her parents Hank and Joyce Summers. She had a baby sister – Dawn – who caught pneumonia and died at the age of six. Her father worked as a developer for the colony and his wife owned a prominent boutique. She had two best friends, Willow Osbourne née Rosenberg and Alexander Harris, husband to the beautiful and licentious Cordelia Harris née Chase.
The first time Angelus spoke to her was at a party that was thrown by an oil barren. Angelus, as usual, found himself surrounded by three potential meals. Drusilla stood by William’s side, smiling proudly as he recited poetry. It was terrible, but the women thought it was the most beautiful thing they had ever heard.
“Do you hunt, Mr. McConroy?” one of the women – Mrs. O’Hara or something or another – said, pulling him from his thoughts.
Angelus flashed an enticing smile. “Why yes, Mrs. O’Hara. ‘Tis one of my many pleasures.”
She wet her lips and fluttered her eyes in what he was sure was meant to be attractive. “Well, in that case, you should come to my husband’s estate in the country. You two can hunt and later you could tell me more about your pleasures.”
“How can a man of sound mind resist such an enticing offer?” he said, kissing the back of her hand.
The woman continued to place unnecessary hints concerning secret rendezvous and Angelus almost lost control and snapped her neck on the spot until one of the younger women spoke up.
“There’s that Elizabeth Summers.”
Angelus’ attention immediately shifted, seeking out his dark obsession. She came in with her parents. Her large hazel eyes seemed sad, and Angelus suddenly wanted to seek out that which had caused her misery and destroy it. He wanted to be the sole source of any pain she felt. But he could not gaze upon his obsession in peace as one of the three women continued her verbal assault.
“How a strange girl like that was lucky enough to have a contract with Governor Finn’s son is baffling.”
“She is a strange one, Harmony,” Cordelia Harris vehemently agreed. “My husband says that she spends all of her time reading. Reading! Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
“Well, I hear that she wishes to become a writer! As if any respectable man would want anything written by a woman! A proper lady should spend her time learning to attend a household and concern herself with pleasing her husband.”
“Yes, well, we all know that Buffy,” she sneered the name. “Is as far from a lady as one can be. It baffles me why Alexander enjoys her company so. It’s embarrassing!” she glared as said husband made his way over to Buffy.
“I see nothing wrong with a properly educated woman, Mrs. Harris,” Angelus said, drawing their attention away from Buffy. “It would be refreshing to hear a woman contribute something to the conversation beyond how pretty the dresses are overseas.”
Cordelia Harris’ expression darkened so that if Angelus had been human, he might have been afraid. “Well,” she sniffed, highly offended. “It is upon the hour, and I believe I shall take my leave.” She stood and scowled at Angelus when he broke societal conventions and refused to stand when she did. “I bid you goodnight, Mrs. O’Hara, Harmony, Mr. McConroy.”
“Mrs. Harris,” his flourishing bow was meant and taken in all its mockery. He smirked as she huffed and stomped away. He watched her approach Buffy and Alexander, and used his enhanced hearing to listen in.
“…husband and I must be going,” she said in a clipped tone.
Buffy knew that her friend’s wife didn’t like her, but for Xander’s sake, she at least made an effort. “I am sorry that you must be leaving so soon. I hope you will feel well, Cordy.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, how many times must I remind you to call me Mrs. Harris?” she said tightly.
“Of course. I apologize.”
“Alexander.”
The dark-haired young man looked between his wife and his friend, wishing he could stay, but knowing he would never hear the last of it if he did. “Of course, dear. See you soon, Buffy.”
Her other friend, Willow, who had watched the scene from across the room, performed her usual damage control ritual. “You know I think one of these days he shall divorce her.”
“Willow!” she whispered, linking their arms. “You should not say such things.”
“Well, he should! I’m fairly certain the only reason he puts up with her is for the sex and we both know the pregnancy scare was the incentive for the marriage to start with…”
Angelus watched the two young women disappear out onto the gardens. “Ladies, if you will excuse me.” He left the woman at the table and sought out William. He didn’t have the same mental link with him as he did with Drusilla, but William could feel when his grandsire called him.
“You called?” he said, appearing moments later.
“Yes, I’m stepping out for a moment. Make sure no one sees Dru nibbling on the livestock.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s so special about this bird? I mean, she’s a cutie and all, but is she really worth our queen mother handing you your own arse?”
“What Darla doesn’t know won’t kill me.” Angelus knew William had a point. Darla was extremely jealous and possessive of him, but he was still sore around the edges where she was concerned, considering that she left him to die in a burning barn. Darla was his sire and that was a bond not easily broken, but nothing could reestablish the trust he lost for her. He glanced at Drusilla to see if she was keeping out of trouble and caught her thralling Harmony. “If you want the blonde as a party favor you should take her out of here. She’s as dumb as a post but has a pleasant peach scent to her.”
Angelus left his grandchilde to attend to Dru and followed Buffy’s scent through the large garden maze. She and her friend, Willow sat on a bench in front of a pond talking quietly.
“…says?”
“You mean when she’s not nursing a bottle? She blames me. She says even whores aren’t low enough to chase their own fathers,” she sniffled.
“Oh, Buffy, have you thought about telling Riley?”
“No, I can’t tell him, Will. If he thought for a moment that it’s gone further than a drunken fumbling, he’ll never speak to me again.”
“And right now, he’s your only way out,” Willow sighed in sympathy to her friend’s plight. “You know Oz and I will let you move in with us.”
“People will talk.”
“They’re already talking. One of New York’s most beloved sons married to a kike?”
“Willow!” Buffy admonished. “Don’t ever call yourself that.”
The redhead shrugged carelessly. “I have been called much worse. I am just telling you that Oz and I do not care what anyone else says about us.”
“I appreciate it. And if the wedding was happening later than next month I would say yes.”
“But what if he goes too far before Riley can save you?”
The unanswered question hung heavy in the air. Angelus seethed. He barely restrained himself from going back inside, grabbing Hank Summers and tearing off his worthless cock with his bare hands. It didn’t anger Angelus that the man was taking liberties with his daughter. It bothered him that his touch would not be the first she had known from a man.
“I should get back inside before Oz starts looking for me. Come with?”
“In a little while. I just want a little more time away from the noise.”
“Don’t take too long. Your parents,” she mumbled.
Angelus watched the Osbourne woman return to the party from his place in the shadows. He turned his attention back to Buffy realizing that they were finally alone. She leaned back, her hands flat on the bench and her face turned up towards the starlit sky. Her eyes were closed, and the subtle breeze disturbed the tendrils of silky tresses framing her face. Angelus had the perfect view of the golden skin of her smooth throat. His face shifted as he imagined sinking his fangs into her throat as her naked body writhed helplessly underneath his.
Buffy’s eyes suddenly snapped open. She stood and she looked around her as if sensing she was not alone. “Is someone there?” she called.
Angelus contained his excitement and returned to his human visage. “Just me,” he said, pretending as though he was simply out for a stroll through the garden’s maze. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Buffy stared at the man before her. She was certain that she had never seen him around before. He was tall, very tall. He had long dark hair that was bound behind his head. He had a wide mustache and she wondered if it was as soft as his hair looked. He had dark eyes. Eyes that were mischievous and secretive. She started to believe she was dreaming. She always thought Riley was cute in a boyish way, but this man before her with the long brown hair, his piercing dark eyes and his enticing smirk was…beautiful. His smirk seemed to widen, and Buffy realized with startling clarity that she was rather rudely staring at him.
“No, you did not frighten me, sir,” she recovered.
“You are Elizabeth Summers, correct?”
“Yes, but everyone calls me Buffy.”
He took her hand – it seemed tiny and engulfed by his – and pressed a small kiss to it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Buffy. I am Angelus McConroy.”
Recognition flashed in her large hazel eyes. “Of course, Mr. McConroy! You live in the Crawford’s old mansion. Your brother-in-law, William, is it? He ordered a gown from my mother’s boutique for your sister.”
Angelus suppressed another smirk. He had sent William on that particular mission to scout out the boutique and Buffy’s work hours, and to spread the word to the local undead community that she, her family and friends, were off limits.
“Yes, my family and I moved there a few months ago.”
Buffy fidgeted with her dress before resuming her place on the bench. “Would you…would you care to sit?” she offered timidly.
He flashed a dazzling smile and took his place beside her. “Now what is a lovely girl such as yourself doing out here all alone? It’s really not safe,” said the wolf to the rabbit.
Buffy glanced up at him and flushed as he stared down at her unblinkingly. “Oh, well, I just stepped out for a moment. Just for some air,” she shrugged.
“You don’t truly enjoy parties, do you?”
“They are…acceptable.”
“Ah, but a lass such as yourself would much rather be at home in front of the fire with a book. You prefer the silence and solitude to the noise and excitement.”
She flushed an attractive pink and looked up at him from under her lashes. “I realize that those are not exactly the qualities one looks for in a woman, but…”
“But you are far from a woman, lass. You’re still a wee child.” He watched appreciatively as her skin flushed a darker red.
“Sir, I will have you know that I am of sixteen years and will soon be a wife,” she said, not really succeeding in sounding offended.
“Yes, to Governor Finn’s lad no less. I find it difficult to see what it is the boy could have done to deserve the hand of such a fair lass.”
Her hazel eyes met his and she wore a smile befitting that of the most experienced of coquettes. “Do you tell all your ladies that, Mr. McConroy?”
“Only the pretty ones,” he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.
She started laughing and Angelus thought it was the most enticing sound he had ever heard. “You are indeed a charmer, Mr. McConroy. If I may be so bold…?”
“You may.”
“Why is there not a Mrs. McConroy? A gentleman such as yourself should have amassed quite the number of prospects from the fairer sex.”
Angelus, seeing his opportunity, angled his body towards hers. “Perhaps it is because a man can only have ale for so long before he starts to long for a fine wine.”
He could hear her heart pounding in fear and excitement as their seemingly innocent conversation began to take a different turn. “But what if you’re not supposed to have the wine?” she breathed.
“That’s when it’s the sweetest.” His hand cupped her cheek and her eyes fluttered from the contact. “Look at me, Buff,” he commanded. “Look into my eyes.” Angelus knew he could have waited rather than jumping at the first opportunity to thrall her, but he was anxious to have her in his bed.
“You have pretty eyes.”
Angelus felt his eyebrows rise. You have pretty eyes? Angelus concentrated harder and Buffy flinched as he suddenly seemed to be scowling at her.
“What? Men can have pretty eyes,” she pouted slightly, thinking he was offended.
Angelus blinked. He surveyed her carefully, playing close attention not to let himself linger on her pouting pink lips. He didn’t understand how it was possible for her to resist his thrall. No one had ever resisted! The girl was obviously human. She smelled human. She had a heartbeat. What had gone wrong? His eyebrows knitted together as he ran through any and all explanations as to why his gift had failed him. He felt her warm hand press against his own.
“Angelus? Is something wrong?”
He recovered, wearing his signature smirk. “You think my eyes are pretty, do ye?”
Buffy fiddled with the sleeves of her dress looking anywhere but at him. “Yes, they resemble little pools of chocolate.” She felt his fingers lace through hers and looked down. She liked the way their hands fit.
“Now which one of us is the charmer here, Buff?” he watched her shiver as his fingers idly stroked hers.
“There you are!”
Buffy stood, withdrawing her hand from Angelus, completely missing his darkened expression. “Riley,” she said, her heart pounding heavily as though she’d been caught doing something terribly wicked.
“I have been searching all over for you, Bethie.”
He took her hand in his own, missing her subtle wince at the nickname she loathed. “Forgive me if I have caused distress. I only stepped out for a moment.”
“Your mother and father are looking for you. They –.” Riley stopped short when he saw movement behind Buffy. “Hello,” he said to the man who sat on the bench watching them unabashedly. “I do not believe we have met. I am Riley Finn, Elizabeth’s husband-to-be.”
“Oh, yes, the governor’s boy,” Angelus said, taking in the blue-eyed baby-faced boy with mocking eyes.
Although the sarcasm went completely over the boy’s head as he puffed out his chest and stood a little taller, Angelus smirk only grew when Buffy gave him a warning glare.
“Yes, yes, I am,” he said proudly.
“Riley, this is Mr. McConroy.”
Riley tensed slightly, something neither Angelus nor Buffy missed. “McConroy. You purchased the old Crawford Mansion.”
“Yes,” he confirmed, his eyes glinting slightly.
“Well, it was nice making your acquaintance, Mr. McConroy, but Elizabeth and I must be going.”
“Of course. Nice meeting you, Finn.” He turned his penetrating eyes to Buffy. He picked up her hand and gave her a lingering kiss that left her near breathless. “T’was a pleasure makin’ your acquaintance, Buffy.”
“Mr. McConroy,” she blushed.
Riley’s jaw clenched as he led Buffy away. But his annoyance over what he saw as a threat to his future wife was nothing compared to Angelus’ fury over Finn impeding the progress he had made.
“I do not trust that McConroy fellow,” he confided when they were of a safe distance away from him. Or so he thought. “He worries me.”
“Riley,” Buffy sighed. “Mr. McConroy is a nice man.”
“You know him well, then?”
“No. We only made acquaintance tonight.”
“Yet he already calls you Buffy.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Riley Finn, I do believe you are jealous.”
“Perhaps I am,” he admitted. “Do you find him attractive?”
Buffy blushed and lowered her eyes. “He is…agreeable. But it is you who will become my husband. Your name I will carry and your children I shall bear. Tell me once more why you are jealous?”
With a few well-executed words, Angelus could see Finn’s worries and inferiorities fade away. He leaned down and kissed her lips as carefully as if she were made of glass.
“Bethie?” he whispered, still holding her close.
“Yes?”
“If I asked you to do something, as your future husband, would you do it?”
Buffy tensed. Her small hands fisted the sides of his shirt as her mind twisted and turned over in itself. As her future husband, he could ask almost anything of her, and she was duty bound to obey. She trembled against him and swallowed the bile suddenly flooding her mouth. “Yes.”
“I wish for you to have no further contact with Mr. McConroy or any of his family.”
Buffy stepped back from him so that she could see into his eyes. “Riley, I have already told you that Mr. McConroy bears no threat to us.”
“But he does,” he argued. “Have you noticed the strange occurrences in our town?”
“Are you referring to Madeleine Archer?” Maddie Archer was two years younger than Buffy and had gone missing from her bed in the dead of night.
“Yes, as well as Rebekah Harte, Joshua Black, Edward Morton, Christine Adams, and countless others.”
“Riley, how do these unfortunate people pertain to you desiring distance between Mr. McConroy and myself?”
“They all vanished or perished inexplicably after McConroy, and his family took residence in the Crawford Mansion.”
“You are not suggesting…?” she gasped.
“There is something amiss about them. His sister is said to be touched in the mind, but there is more. She speaks in prophecies. Her husband, William, the poet, who may I say is not very good, he was seen with Rebekah Harte before she went missing. Then there is your new acquaintance. He never leaves the mansion during the day. He does not work and yet he attends every party and somehow amasses enough wealth to support his family. They have no servants or cooks. Their skin is unnaturally porcelain – must I go on?”
“Are you suggesting to me that Mr. McConroy, his sister and her husband may be…nefarious individuals?”
Riley smiled humorlessly. “Why does it frighten you to speak the word, Bethie? You once told me that what most would believe to be a monster, you see as a beast maintaining his nature.”
“I was referring to the work of Bram Stoker, Riley. Beasts exist, yes, but not of that sort, and certainly not amongst Mr. McConroy and his family.”
“You have always had faith in the most undeserving of creatures, Bethie.” He reached inside his trouser pocket and withdrew a silver cross on a chain.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I wish you to wear it whenever you leave the mansion.”
“Even in the sunlight?” she quipped.
“Even in the sunlight,” he answered, unaffected by her glibness. “All of the victims’ blood was drained through small punctures to the throat.”
Buffy paled as she gasped. “What? But you never said anything!”
“My father thought it was best that the families were not informed of this. It would lead to panic and at this time, the authorities have declared it a beast. Wear it. For me.”
“Okay,” she whispered, still struggling with the concept of the creatures she learned of as a child could truly exist beyond the pages of a novel.
Riley secured the cross around Buffy’s neck and exhaled in relief. “Now I believe we should find your parents. They can hardly fault a man for enjoying the company of his love.”
The couple left the garden arm in arm, completely oblivious to the heavy stare on their backs.
Angelus was beside himself with fury when the Finn’s and the Summers left the Hardy Mansion. He had covered his tracks and the tracks of his childe and grandchilde carefully. Yet, the Finn boy seemed to have linked all of their victims back to them. Although he tried his best to come across as noble and caring in Buffy’s eyes, the boy was far more concerned with her affections rather than her safety. The thought in itself caused a malicious smirk to befall his angelic features. They would have to be careful. Meticulous. One mistake and all would be lost. Nevertheless, Angelus would have Buffy Summers…even if he had to eviscerate every townsman to get her.
Angelus itched to relieve his fury and he knew just how to do it.
“Margaret, is it?” she was nothing. An aide in the Hardy household with the burden of a fatherless son. She was not remotely attractive, and her blood was not in the slightest appealing. But her polite smile and cautious eyes appeased him.
“Yes, sir.”
“I regret to bother you as I can see you are terribly busy, but I am afraid I require your assistance.”
“In what way, sir?” still so trusting.
“Come with me, please.”
Ah. There is the hesitation. “Very well, sir.”
He led her to a dark corner underneath the stairs hidden from the rest of the intoxicated socialites. “Ah, that’s better, isn’t it? Not complete privacy, but it should do for what I have in mind,” he said, letting his eyes drift over her, hoping to discomfort her. She predictably squirmed under his gaze, unaware that her used and aged body held no appeal for him.
“Sir, I…I should get back,” she stuttered, her heart pounding beautifully, forcing her blood to flow quicker through her arteries.
“Why not stay a while? After all, you did say you would help a fellow with his problem,” he purred, moving even closer to the frightful maid.
*“Sir, please, I should return to the party.”
*“Margaret, Margaret, there’s no hurry.”
She tried to pull away from him, hoping that someone might see. *“Mistress will be wondering…”
*“Sshh,” he cooed. “Mistress will be wondering how to get the good Reverend Chalmers into bed and will not notice the absence of canapé.” He stroked her chin for good measure, and she shuddered in spite of her fear. “Stay with me,” he urged.
Angelus could tell by her eyes that she was considering it. How could she not? A lowly maid, past her prime, receiving the attentions of the young and wealthy Mr. McConroy, a man that all women, be they married, betrothed, or divine worshippers, have attempted to lure into their beds.
*“Sir, people might talk,” she weakly protested. “I’ll be put out on the streets. My little boy would…I can’t lose this job,” she said, forgoing any thoughts she might have had about taking a chance with the beautiful Angelus McConroy.
Angelus, sensing her resolve, lost his temper. He grabbed her arms. *“Then you must keep quiet.”
*“You’re hurting me!” she said, speaking a little louder than she intended.
*“Ah! Cry out. Call for help. I’m sure Mistress will believe your behavior beyond reproach,” he sneered.
*“Please!” she gasped, wriggling in his embrace.
Angelus shook her roughly. *“Come, make a scene, huh?” he taunted. “Shall I?”
Margaret hesitated. *“No,” she whispered.
*“No, no. We’ll be as quiet as mice.”
Margaret lowered her head. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. If she closed her eyes and didn’t put up a fight, maybe it would be over soon. No one would believe her if she said their familiarity was forced.
Angelus could almost taste her defeat. His face shifted and when she looked back up at him, her fear and terror flooded his senses. *“No matter what.”
*“Sir!” she trembled, tears welling in her eyes. “My son!”
Good, he had almost forgotten. *“Oh, he’ll make a fine dessert, huh?”
He grabbed her, sinking his fangs into her throat before she could scream. He drained her quickly. She was unsatisfying and not at all fulfilling. He released her, letting her body fall carelessly to the floor. He tucked her away in the corner, knowing one of the other servants or perhaps her Mistress herself would find her. Angelus maneuvered around the intoxicated guests, following Margaret’s scent to the servant’s quarters. He found Margaret’s whelp sleeping in his bed. He was a boy of no more than seven years. His hair was curly like his mother's and a brighter shade of blonde. Margaret’s pallet lay positioned beside the boy’s bed. The boy clutched a worn brown bear that was missing its left eye. He was a beautiful child, clearly taking after his father. The boy opened his eyes and startling emerald green eyes met his own.
“Are you an angel?” he whispered.
His lips twitched as he fought the smirk that threatened to reveal itself. “An angel?”
“Mum says when it’s time an angel will come and take me to see my Da. Will you take me?”
He arranged the boy’s body in his bed and retrieved his mother, placing her on top of her pallet. From a distance, it would look as If they were merely sleeping. He returned to his mansion an hour before sunrise.
“Daddy, we saved her for you!” Drusilla called over the screams.
He strolled down to the “playroom” in the cellar. The room smelled of sex, blood, and fear. The young woman from the party, Harmony, was naked and railroad spikes had been driven through her hands and ankles, courtesy of William. Her legs and stomach were flayed, and Drusilla greedily lapped up her flowing blood.
William leaned against the wall, a pipe in his hand. “How did it go with the bird?”
Before he could answer, Harmony turned towards Angelus. Her face had been clawed, most likely by Drusilla, and her right eye hung out of its socket and lay limply against her cheek. “Mr. McConroy, help! Please help me!” she whimpered.
A cold smirk drifted on his lips as he played with her blood-soaked hair. “I could help you, Harmony, but you would have to do something for me first,” he taunted.
“Anything, anything.”
“Open your mouth.” A single tear fell from her good eye. She opened her mouth without hesitation. Angelus released his semi-hard cock and shoved it into her mouth. She choked and gagged as his hand knotted in her hair. “She resisted my thrall.”
William pushed off from his relaxed stance against the wall. “Resisted? How the bloody hell did she do that?”
“Gee, William, I have no idea. I’ll be sure to ask her next time,” he growled, shoving his entire length down Harmony’s throat.
“She’s not like the others,” Drusilla whispered. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. She was having a vision.
“What do you see, pet?”
Just as Harmony’s heart stopped beating, Angelus felt his seed spurt into her mouth. He pulled out, using her hair to clean himself off, smiling lightly as his seed and her blood dripped from her mouth.
“She was almost Called.”
“Called?”
“As in…?” Angelus had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“But the Powers…she was unworthy…innocent blood on her hands…now she is just a human.”
Angelus ran a hand through his hair, attempting to process what they had just learned. Buffy was meant to take the Calling. She was to be a Slayer, but she killed someone. The Powers deemed her unworthy and now she will never be a Slayer. But even though she didn’t have the Call, she was still equipped with the typical Slayer attributes. A mental block to resist the thrall. Possibly strength to fight against any demonic creature.
“Darla is going to kill you,” William snickered.
“Darla is too busy fucking Dracula to care what I do!”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
Drusilla hunched over, moaning and hugging her stomach. William’s good mood faded quickly as he and Angelus flocked to her side protectively. “What do you see, Dru?”
“Bad man…bad man…bad man…”
“What bad man? What is he doing?” Angelus questioned her as she leaned against William.
“Touching…bad touch…bad touch…wants to keep her…wants to hurt her…!” she moaned.
Angelus growled deeply, startling his childe and grandchilde. “Hank Summers is a dead man. William, at first dark, I need you to do something for me.”
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thebibliomancer · 3 years
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Essential Avengers: Avengers #232: And Now... Starfox!
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June, 1983
“From Titan with love... Starfox!”
oh god no
Err. Anyway.
Last time on Avengers Z, the Avengers were bad enough dudes and lady dudes to rescue the president from wooden dopplegangers. The sinister and badly dressed Plantman (not to be confused with a Mega Man boss) summoned a giant-sized man-shaped swamp thing to battle the Avengers. They were doing a decent job fighting it when Starfox crashed his spaceship into it in his rush to join the Avengers.
And now, what happens after that.
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Hawkeye is a terrible patient.
So also last time, a ceiling fell on Hawkeye’s leg and it be broke. He’s apparently the kind of dude who thinks its more manly to refuse anesthetic so She-Hulk has to literally pin him down long enough for Ordinary Doctor Donald Blake to cast it up.
And wow, that cast goes all the way up!
Where did you break your leg, Clint? At the sternum?
Actually this reminds me of Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes because Hawkeye got his arm snaked and in-this-version-a-paramedic Jane Foster was asked to look at it but Hawkeye was similarly uncooperative there.
I wonder if that was an intentional reference or whether an accurate portrayal of Clint’s sparking personality just gets you there naturally.
But with the casting call done, Dr. Donald Blake makes to leave, making a point to mention how lucky that he was in town instead of in Chicago where he supposedly lives.
THUS Thor’s secret identity is secure forever.
Wasp and Captain America take Ordinary Doctor Donald Blake to the elevator to show him out but really, he just transforms back to Thor in the elevator.
Because Cap and Wasp already know his secret identity. As does Dra- oh wait, he��s dead. As does Iron Man.
In fact, after Cap mentions he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing Dr. Donald Blake transform, Thor mentions very few mortals have ever seen the change.
Thor: “E’en Iron Man -- with whom I did share the secret of my dual life -- seldom watched me assume my godlike form. I believe it disturbed him.’
Wasp: “Uh-huh.”
Uh-huh is right. That’s a weird, random character beat! I wonder why it bothered Tony. Is it the god part? Transformation in general? Would it bother him to watch Bruce Banner turn into the Hulk? Or Captain Marvel/old broke version and Rick Jones chaaaaange places?
I’m intrigued. And yet there’s no further information. Hmm.
Anyway, the three founding or retroactively made a founding Avengers pass through two sets of ultra-security doors because obviously the thing in your base you most want to protect is your conference table.
Its got the cool, personalized chairs. Don’t judge.
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As always, I wonder what symbols the other Avengers get.
Wasp delayed the resumption of the Avengers meeting (because it got interrupted by presidential ransom situation last issue) by a half hour because she wanted to run some things past Thor and Cap.
Wasp: “After all, we are the only core members on active duty and... well... I wanted to ask you both first... should I step down as Avengers chairwoman?”
Thor asks if she feels unduly burdened by the job but she says no, in fact it makes her feel so aliiiiiiiiiiive.
Cap: “Then stick with it, Jan! You’ve been doing a fine job! What on Earth made you even think of stepping down? Surely you don’t blame yourself for Iron Man leaving -- ?”
Surely in fact, she does do.
That weird call they got from an Iron Man quitting the team has shaken her. She probably thinks its because of Wasp dumping him. And in fairness, Tony ghosting the team happened not very long after that. But its not actually related.
Also apparently, Captain Marvel (the new cool one) was made a full active member and not an in-training to fill the vacancy Iron Man left. But now Hawkeye has gotten injured and there are no reserve members available.
Hercules is off doing him knows what. Beast is with the Defenders. Wonder Man is on the West Coast, presumably trying to make it in Hollywood. Vision and Scarlet Witch are trying to be civilians.
Wasp: “We used to have too many members around. Now we may not have enough!”
Yeah, ever since the roster shake-up that was soon followed by Hank’s No Good Very Bad Day, the Avengers have had a bit of a difficulty in keeping the team at good numbers.
Dammit, Hank!
Thor suggests, hey, we have Eros of Titan hanging around asking to be made a member. Why not... let him?
Thor: “Perhaps we should induct the brash Eros! He is swift -- and nearly as strong as an Asgardian!”
Cap: “Yes, but is he Avengers material? Does he have the proper training?”
Wasp: “Training! That’s it! We could try him out as an Avenger-in-training! It worked for Captain Marvel! She was almost totally unused to super-powers when she came to us, but she developed into a peach of an Avenger! With a little on-the-job training, I’ll bet Eros would fit in, too!”
So she calls the White House and asks if the president is back from his kidnapping yet. She has networking strings to pull.
And this honestly brightens her right up. Being group leader really does make her feel so aliiiiiiiiiiive. That and being able to call in favors from the government.
Twenty-six minutes of calling in favors later, Wasp reconvenes the meeting, this time with special guest Eros.
She asks why he wants to be an Avenger.
Eros: “Why not?”
This gives Hawkeye an anger and he bangs the table and also accidentally bangs his broken leg.
Eros decides to expand on his answer and says that he’s a lover of adventure and what better way to seek it than as an Avenger? He’s already aided them in the past so they already know of him.
Thor: “Aye! Against the threat of your mad brother, Thanos!”
Eros: “Too true. But I believe your brother Loki has also given the Avengers trouble hasn’t he?”
Wasp has to interrupt and tell the two to keep family matters out of the conversation. She makes a better moderator than some.
Eros: “You are quite right, Wasp! I hold no one -- god or man -- responsible for the actions of relatives! I seek but your fellowship! Indeed, I can think of no assemblage so appealing... so charming... anywhere in the cosmos!”
Wasp, Captain Marvel, and She-Hulk seem to approve of this answer.
... WAIT ARE YOU USING YOUR CHARM POWERS ON THEM? EROOOOOOOOOOOOOS!!!
Anyway, since Hawkeye is out of action-
Hawkeye: “What do you mean, ‘out of action’? Who says I am?”
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Cap(tain America) says he is and tells him he can’t be expected to charge into action with his leg in a cast. Which Hawkeye sadly agrees.
Anyway, since Hawkeye is out of action, Wasp decides that the Avengers can accomodate Eros as an Avenger-in-training. But the government did have one condition for letting his alien man become an Avenger.
He needs a codename.
Wasp: “Frankly, the president was hesitant to approve of anyone named Eros. He would rather you were called something less provocative in public.”
Hey, fuck you, Reagan.
But Wasp has an idea.
Wasp: “You’re a pretty foxy guy... and you’ve been out among the stars... how about ‘Starfox!’”
Good god, Wasp. Did you really just name this man Spacehunk? You’ve gone mad with power.
Also, I jumped the gun last post. I didn’t realize that Wasp comes up with his codename here so I was using Starfox to refer to him already.
Also also, he has a fox emblem on his shirt. Why does he do that if he wasn’t Starfox yet? What does the fox represent in Titanian culture??
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Eros: “Starfox? I don’t know... Is this necessary?”
Captain America: “Well, it could make things easier, and you’d still be Eros to your friends. After all, my real name isn’t Captain America!”
Eros: “It isn’t?”
Hah.
I adore that last exchange.
Imagine the incredulity in the tone. ‘I thought that Earth names were Just Like That.’
Anyway, Eros accepts the name Spacehunk Starfox and the position of in-training so Wasp decides to get him started right away.
Remember that thing with the president and the wood men? Happened like an hour ago?
Well, there’s a Navy task force tracking the submarine which was spotted escaping from the scene and they’ve requested Avengers help. But, eh, why send the whole team?
So Wasp sends Thor, Captain Marvel, and Starfox-in-training.
And in fairness! That’s a trio that can handle a whole heck of a lot with their respective powers!
So off they go.
Starfox: “Duty and glory, Thor! Songs shall be written about this day -- even if I must write them myself!”
You know. That’s actually a very good attitude to have. Eros will be the fanfiction he wants to see in the world.
With that issue handled, Cap(tain America) and Wasp head off to take care of some other business.
Leaving She-Hulk and Hawkeye with only each other as company.
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Hah.
On their way to the mission, Captain Marvel zooms all around, practicing her cornering in flight. As a new superhero... like its been under a month, I think? Captain Marvel still thinks flying is the neatest thing.
And she’s right!
But she’s also discovered a new ability. Since her energy form is made of energy and she has control over energy. Instead of flying around as a vaguely her shaped glowing blur, she can concentrate to create a light image of herself, why not!
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She has made herself harder to draw but easier to portray!
Thor: “Your radiance rivals that of the golden apples of immortality!”
Captain Marvel: “I’ll have to take your word for that!”
Hah.
She zooms over to where Starfox is flying. Captain Marvel has been eyeing him throughout the book, which Wasp has been assuming was because he’s a space hunk.
But maybe she just wanted to learn more about Captain Mar-Vell because that’s what she asks Starfox about.
Starfox: “He was a gentle warrior... a noble soul. He was a true hero... Worthy of rank and name!”
I guess the description or the sadness Starfox still has at Mar-Vell’s death makes Monica feel like shit, like maybe she isn’t worthy, so she zooms ahead to let the navy know the Avengers are on their way.
Starfox: “Have I offended her?”
Thor: “Eros, I begin to wonder if your reputation with the ladies is truly deserved.”
Hah.
But also: If you have magical fuck-me powers you don’t need to actually be charming, I guess? Dammit, Starfox!
Captain Marvel arrives on the deck of the navy task force flagship as a bolt of lighting (SHAZAM!), alarming the navy in two ways.
First, lightning. Its just so loud! But second, wait the Avengers only sent one person?
Captain Marvel goes nah I got Thor and Spacehunk but they’re slowpokes. Not moving the speed of light. Imagine.
Admiring Admiral: I don’t know who the redhead is, but I’d sail into Hades itself with Thor in my crew!
Its fun the insight we get into how respected and beloved Thor is. I don’t think that’s the case anymore with modern Thor. The marvel citenzry has just become jaded to the cool hammer man.
The admiral explains the situation. That they’re chasing the submarine seen in the area of the presidential ransom attempt. But its hiding in an undersea canyon that navy frogmen kero kero can’t reach and that its somehow been deflecting depth charges.
The admiral was going to wait for navy subs to arrive but hey, if the Avengers want to try, this is their book.
Meanwhile, in aforementioned sinister submarine, the horticultural horror... Plantman! Nah, just kidding. He’s a goofus and I will point and laugh.
His cool sub lets him pre-explode the depth charges before they reach his sub but even he doesn’t want to tangle with trident-class submarines so he wants to skedaddle. And if the navy is blocking his way, the navy gotta pay.
He activates his PLANT RAY which is a real thing, look it up, and energizes the kelp in the undersea canyon.
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The kelp reaches up like a kraken, a kelpken, and starts trying to pull the navy ships under.
Thor: “‘Tis an attack by yet another form of plant! Our unknown foe has struck again! Stand you back... the son of Odin shall end this threat!”
And then Thor jumps into the ocean, leading a confused Starfox to ask whether Thor needs to breath.
Captain Marvel helpfully informs him and the audience that Thor can hold his breath for hours.
Thanks, Monica!
And then some kelp yanks Starfox and then Captain Marvel off the ship.
Meanwhile, a very expensive Manhattan apartment occupied by a grumpy Tony Stark.
Tony Stark: “Why waste good money getting a T.V. remote control fixed, when I can do it myself faster an’ better? Hah! When I’m done with it, it’ll do more’n change channels... it’ll walk the blasted dog!”
... Tony, how though?
And do you have a dog?
What is going on in your mind?
His remote repair reverie is interrupted by a binging and a bonging on his chamber door. Only this and nothing more.
He grouses about the interruption but HEY ITS HIS FAVORITE PEOPLE! Its Wasp and Captain America!
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They’ve been stalking him, a little.
The pressing matters they had to attend to was running down a list of homes owned by Tony and searching them one by one to find him.
He’s happy to see them though and offers them some morning whiskey. Or bourbon. Or perhaps chocolate soda.
Look, I googled eyeopener and its booze you drink in the morning to wake up although I’m pretty sure its afternoon now and if you need to drink booze to wake up, you might want to consider limiting your intake actually. Especially for Tony Stark who had an entire story arc about alcoholism. Dammit Tony!
Wasp: “Eye-opener?! Tony Stark, where’s your mind? We’ve been worried sick about you! No one’s been able to find you for days on end -- you haven’t answered Avengers emergency calls -- and when you did call this morning it was to resign!”
Tony Stark: “Now jus’ hold yer horses! Maybe I have been outta touch... but I’ve had my own ‘mergencies to handle! An’ I didn’t call you this morning! I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”
Iron Man: “He’s right! I’m the one who made that call!”
Imagine being someone who reads Avengers and not Iron Man. How blown would your mind be seeing Iron Man fly into a room Tony Stark is already in?
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Somewhat, right? Somewhat.
Imagine being Captain America and Wasp and seeing Iron Man fly into a room where Tony Stark is when you know for sure that Iron Man and Tony Stark are the same guy.
Cap demands to know whats going on and who is in Tony’s armor.
Tony Stark: “Jus’ who he appears to be... Iron Man, my faithful armored companion and bodyguard... jus’ like it says in the Stark International press releases! Ya see, boys an’ girls, ol’ Uncle Tony has decided to quit the hero biz while he’s still ahead of the game! No more playin’ Iron Man for me! Nosirrebob! Time to let a younger man wear the boilerplate!”
Oh.... Tony.... if this only weren’t the perpetual superhero narrative, you might be able to bow out gracefully.
And its not like this is gracefully anyway. As indicated by the charmingly tousled look, the slurred speech and the morning drinking in the afternoon, Tony is quite drunk.
Wasp asks New Iron Man to confirm and he does. He clarifies that the reason he quit the Avengers is because he doesn’t feel experienced enough yet to hold his own on the team.
And apologizes for the confusion. The Iron Man helmet has voice modifying circuits so New Iron Man (secretly James Rhodes) sounded just like Old Iron Man (aka Tony Stark). He didn’t realize that the Avengers knew Tony’s secret so didn’t realize he’d just be creating an intriguing mystery prompting readers to check out the Iron Man book slash confuse the Avengers.
Tony Stark: “Yeah... I forgot to tell ya that Cap an’ the Wasp were in on the ol’ secret. Thor, too! Oh, well... no harm done!”
Then he drinks some more booze alcohol. Cap asks him doesn’t he think he’s had enough? And Tony is like hey no I don’t and don’t butt into my life kthx.
Wasp: “We don’t want to pry, Tony! We just don’t want to see you throw your life away... like Hank did.”
Tony Stark: “I am not Hank Pym, lady! I’m nothin’ like your ex-hubby! I don’t need your help -- an’ you don’t need mine! The Stark Foundation will pay the Avengers’ bills with or without me! So, if you’ll kindly get out of my life -- !”
Oof. Why does everyone Wasp dates turn out to be a jerk?
I assume she was just leaning into it the time she dated Havok. But otherwise, oof.
They really have no choice but to leave Tony to make his own bad decisions. At least he was responsible enough to get someone else in the Iron Man armor?
Geez though. Geez.
Hate seeing you like this, Tones.
Meanwhile, back in the Atlantic Ocean... Captain Marvel fairly casually assesses the situation of being dragged into the water.
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Captain Marvel: “Never saw any kelp like this before! It grips tighter than an octopus, and it feels as tough as steel! I could just turn to some form of energy and slip out of it, but then it could grab some poor sailor!”
So instead she explodes, which she can do, shredding the kelp holding her.
Then off she goes to find how Starfox is faring.
He’s faring okay. Just casually punching some kelp like it ain’t no thing.
But since teamwork does make the dream work, she blasts the kelp for him. Starfox thanks her though also says that he could’ve kelped himself.
They discuss how they can hear each other perfectly well underwater thanks to SCIENCE! The science of water conducting sound. I find it a bit dubious but whatever. Not as dubious as the next bit.
Captain Marvel asks how Starfox is breathing underwater.
Starfox: “A thin shell of air clung to me as I was pulled under... due to the gravitic potential of my body, I suppose! It all relates to my flying abilities. I was surprised myself! This is the first time I’ve ever taken an ocean plunge!”
Fun way to discover that, huh!
Also, heck, how long does a thin shell of air last underwater? How shallowly do you breathe, man!?
-google- Huh, Wikipedia has this description of his powers using almost the exact words (although not the word order) from this scene. I feel that it does not come up much so this is the primary source.
It also says that he doesn’t need to breathe as much as a normal hooman. So that’s answered.
The two newest Avengers find Thor already has things well in hand freeing the propeller without need for any further kelp.
So all three Avengers surface (and Thor retrieves his helmet, which in a nice bit fell off when he dove into the water and just floated on the surface).
Thanks to ex-boat cop Monica Rambeau knowing navy semaphore, she recognizes the signal from the navy vessel that the enemy sub is making a run for it.
And since none of these three Avengers have trouble fighting underwater, Starfox suggests they give chase.
Plantman: “NO! Not the Avengers! Not again!”
Yes, again. Yes, always.
He shoots some anti-personnel torpedoes, hoping they’re enough to stop the Avengers.
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“They’re not.”
Hah. I love when captions get sassy.
The Avengers soon are busting into the sub, breaking through bulkheads and coming for Plantman.
Plantman realizes that they’ll have him trapped in the control cabin in seconds. So he pulls the last resort lever that his silent partner told him to pull as a last resort.
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Some manner of escape sphere forms around Plantman, launching him high into the stratosphere and capsizing the sub right on top of the Avengers.
I mean, they’re beefy. I’m sure they’ll be fine.
But no time to verify that, SCENE CHANGE.
Over on Central Park West, She-Hulk has carried Hawkeye all the way from Avengers’ Mansion to his apartment. On foot.
Dang! Mighty nice of her! Even Hawkeye points out that he could have gotten a cab.
(But do we believe that Hawkeye has money for a cab?)
After gently dumping Hawkeye on his couch, She-Hulk asks if he wants to have her stick around. She literally has nothing better to do today.
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Hawkeye: “Will you get out of here and leave me alone!!”
She-Hulk huffs off in anger because this is a rude way to thank someone who helps you home.
Hawkeye even realizes that he shouldn’t have yelled “but I can’t stand to have anyone mother-hen me! Besides, I have things to do... important things!”
Yeah, Hawkeye does seem like the kind of guy who hates getting any help at all because men are self-reliant and junk. Toxic masculinityyyyyyy!
And the important things? I dunno! He calls his head of security workplace Cross Technological Enterprises and tells them to send a car for him.
That’s probably going to be a thing in another issue. God forbid it be a thing in another book. I’m not made of time. I’m still dreading West Coast Avengers where Hawkeye goes off and makes his own team. The jerk.
Okay, back to the plot.
Thor, Captain Marvel, and Starfox of course shake off a submarine imploding on their heads without much effort. Starfox is the most shaken by it. Guess the new guy isn’t used to submarine implosions lol.
Meanwhile, Plantman’s escape pod keeps escaping up, up, and away but mostly just up.
Then a prerecorded message from Plantman’s ‘silent partner’ and/or ‘mysterious benefactor’ plays.
Wizard: “Plant-Man! This is a recording. If you have been so stupid as to get yourself in a predicament where you needed to use the emergency handle, you are now hearing this message.”
“While I appreciated your aid in escaping prison, the equipment I gave you should be considered payment in full. I owe you nothing more than an explanation.”
“Thanks to my anti-gravity generators -- which you activated along with this module -- you will soon find yourself safely in orbit!”
Plantman: “In orbit!”
Wizard: “There, you will be of no further embarrassment to me or our ‘partnership’ as you so distastefully called it. You will be beyond harm... for as long as your oxygen holds out. Farewell!”
Oof. Ice cold.
Ice cold, the Wizard.
Captain Marvel phases through the pod floor to basically say the same thing.
Plantman begs her to save him from his own dumb decision making. She’s like huh look, I don’t really know about anti-gravity but I do have an idea.
Then she blows a hole in the side of the pod.
And the pressure difference blasts Plantman out of the pod, right through Captain Marvel who has turned into intangible energy.
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Captain Marvel: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
HAH!
That was mean, Monica. I love it.
But as Plantman hurtles screaming toward the ground, Thor catches him and tells him to stop screaming beside.
Thor: “Cease your cowardly whining! The Avengers do not wantonly kill their foes... not even such as you!”
These days though... well... probably still not wantonly? Depending on how you define it? Maybe during War of Realms though. The kid gloves came off then.
Starfox is loving this by the way. The whole thing that just happened.
Starfox: “What grand sport! Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy being an Avenger!”
‘Ha ha we made that guy think he was going to die!’
Also, Plantman’s outfit looked green and purple in the sub. I guess it was the lighting because its just jolly green now. But its still a terrible outfit.
Meanwhile, back at Avengers’ mansion, Wasp is back from Tony Stark locating duty! She-Hulk is back from being angry at Hawkeye duty!
She-Hulk mentions that she took Hawkeye to his apartment and for a loudmouth, he has a really nice apartment.
She-Hulk: “I wish I could find a nice apartment, but I’m still getting lost in this town. I don’t know where to begin looking.”
Wasp: “Well, if you’re so set on getting a place of your own, why don’t I give you a hand?”
Wasp is going to fulfill her delayed promise to take She-Hulk apartment hunting! And hey, why not focus her efforts on a friend that will let her help?
So Wasp changes into street clothes (or since we see her shrink later, its more that she changed her Wasp outfit and put clothes over it, which is almost like getting dressed in street clothes) and takes Jen out on the town.
Apparently, the Daily Bugle has the largest section on rentals and real estate of any New York paper. I guess they need something aside from diatribes about Spider-Man to attract subscribers.
Ben Urich’s award winning investigative journalism can’t pay all the bills.
Because this is the same New York which frustrated Tigra, some idiot immediately starts hitting on She-Hulk at the newsstand.
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Some idiot: “‘Ey, beeg mama! I love that green body paint! You need any help removing it? Huh?”
She-Hulk: “Stuff it, creep! Or better yet -- stuff you!”
And she puts the garbage man in the garbage can. Where he belongs. While Wasp literally looks the other way.
She-Hulk: “Sorry, Jan, I just don’t care for men with fresh mouths. This sort of thing would never happen in California.”
Wasp: “Oh, fer shure...”
That sounds like the polite way of saying ‘Doubt.’ Surely there are sexist jerks everywhere?
Sadly for the She-Hulk Apartment Hunt, her expectations are also a little LA centric. You’re just not going to find an affordable condo with a hot-tub in New York.
Wasp asks what She-Hulk has against the free rent at Avengers Mansion with its built-in sauna that they’ve apparently always had but never mentioned.
Avengers Mansion is real nice!
She-Hulk says she can’t get behind the idea of living where she works but as someone who works from home its actually highly recommended! Although, She-Hulk’s situation is more ‘firemen live in the firehouse’ so it lacks the ‘don’t have to wear pants to work’ aspect.
Then the apartment hunt is interrupted by an incoming crossover slash a stampede.
She-Hulk grabs a random panicking passerby out of the crowd and asks whats going on but he can’t give a good answer.
She-Hulk: “Hot dog! I was hoping something would happen to break up the monotony. So far, this afternoon has been a big, dull...” -THUD-
First, I love She-Hulk’s enthusiasm for punching.
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Also, hey, who put thin air in She-Hulk’s way!
There’s some kind of invisible barrier right across the sidewalk.
She-Hulk instantly decides that the thing to do is to TEAR INTO THE PAVEMENT TO SEE HOW DEEP IT GOES.
Instead of, y’know, feeling to see how wide it stretches.
Wasp tries blasting thin air too but to no avail.
Despite She-Hulk reminding everyone that “at close range, your sting can knock down a wall!”
And when she really tries, a whole house.
She-Hulk: “Wasp... This is impossible! We’re Avengers! Nothing can stop us!”
Wasp: “She-Hulk... I’ve the strangest feeling it just did.”
And apparently: this is to be continued in THE ANNIHILATION GAMBIT! Which is a crossover with Fantastic Four!
Which means I actually need to pop over to an Avengers Annual first because despite running into the invisible wall (Sue, is that you?) the Avengers are doing stuff on the Moon before getting involved.
I dunno. I’ll see when I get to it.
And you will too! Provided you follow @essential-avengers​! Also maybe like and reblog? Who can say.
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superman86to99 · 4 years
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Superman #82 (October 1993)
REIGN OF THE SUPERMEN! The climax of this 19-part storyline, the entire "Death and Return of Superman" saga, and seven years of long-ass plotlines. And it only took this blog a mere six years and six months to get here! PREVIOUSLY: After Superman’s death, five different Supermen popped up to reclaim the mantle, some more convincingly than others. The front-runner, the Cyborg Superman, kinda ruled himself out of the competition when he nuked out a whole city and replaced it with a giant engine. Now the other would-be Supermen converge in that place...
The Last Son of Krypton/Eradicator finally arrives on Engine City, having set off from the Fortress of Solitude two weeks ago. We noted back then that he suddenly looked like an old man, but he's back to Superman's age now. If this storyline had gone on any longer, he would ended up Benjamin Buttoning himself into a grumpy, ultra-violent baby.
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Superboy also flies in from Metropolis. It's the fourth time he makes the Metropolis-Coast City trip in a few days (not counting the time he got a ride on a missile), so he's gotta be pretty bored of it by now.
Steel, last seen getting crushed by some giant cogs, emerges from the bowels of Engine City with his armor in tatters but his body intact. Dude’s a tough nut to crack.
Supergirl and the powerless Man in Black continue making their way through Engine City. Supergirl's like "Wanna step out and let those of us with powers handle this one, chief?" but the Man in Black ain't having it. Wow, that's pretty heroic. Maybe... maybe he's actually the real Superman?! Nah, that's crazy.
And Green Lantern Hal Jordan is also there, because this whole issue takes place on top of the ashes of his old city and childhood memories and all. We see the end of his fight with Mongul from Green Lantern #46.
The Cyborg watches as the Super-People invade his fortress from his control room, but he's a glass half full kind of guy, so he's choosing to focus on the fact that he (apparently) gets to kill Superman again.
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After the Eradicator joins the party and the Cyborg reveals his true identity, the Man in Black finds himself in the awkward position of having to team up with one of Superman’s worst villains (the one who wanted to turn Earth into Krypton) to fight a good guy driven crazy by space travel (and who once looked like Johnny-5). It's only after the Eradicator goes on a two-page exposition dump about how he brought Superman back to life that the Man in Black goes "alright, guess you're cool".
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The Man in Black and the Eradicator follow the Cyborg to the center of Engine City, where a giant chunk of kryptonite powers the entire fortress. The combined powers of the Eradicator's Eradicator-ness and the Man in Black's punching (OK, mostly the first thing) seem to be winning -- but then, in a desperate move, the Cyborg shoots a blast of concentrated kryptonite at the Man in Black. The Eradicator, however, heroically jumps in front of the blast...
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...which has the unexpected side effect of restoring the Man in Black's Superman powers, allowing him to dispatch the Cyborg with a swift "broosh". What's a "broosh"? You know, a "broosh":
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After Supergirl uses her convenient clothes-shifting powers on the Man in Black's costume, it only takes one second of him in the classic red and blue tights to convince everyone that HOLY CRAP HE'S THE REAL SUPERMAN AND HE'S BACK FROM THE DEAD! (Side note: I like how Green Lantern goes "We'll mop up here! Not like I have anything better to do, what with all my friends being dead and stuff. Haha. I-I’m okay, seriously.")
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It's him! It really is him. I knew it all along. Never doubted it.
Character-Watch:
The Eradicator is this issue's real MVP. His whole arc has been about slowly turning him from an emotionless robot into a sentient being through his interactions with people (Lois, Steel, even Loose Cannon and Guy Gardner), and it pays off when he jumps in front of that kryptonite blast yelling "I WON'T LET YOU DIE [AGAIN]!".
Also, when he tells Superman "We have always been linked, you and I", that's true. While their psychic connection influenced Superman negatively for a while (the Day of the Krypton Man saga), it looks like it also worked in the other direction and some of Superman's goodness rubbed off on him. By the way, it might be a stretch but the climactic shot of the kryptonite blast always reminded me of the Day of the Krypton Man's climactic shot, with Superman finally overcoming the Eradicator’s influence with Pa Kent's help.
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Anyway, sorry, Superboy and Steel. The Eradicator had the best sacrifice scene in this storyline, hands down. Of course, they eventually brought him back again and turned him into a lapdog for the Cyborg and then Zod, but let's enjoy his dignified retirement while it lasts.
Plotline-Watch:
I'm not kidding when I say that this issue represents the convergence of seven freaking years of storylines. Let's recap (strap on, this is gonna be long):
John Byrne's Man of Steel #1 (1986) introduced Superman's birth matrix, the flying artificial womb that took him from Krypton to Earth. When young Clark sees the matrix for the first time he feels weak, because there's some kryptonite lodged into it. In Superman #1, a few months later, we find out that a crazy scientist stole the matrix and used it to build Metallo, so Superman decides to leave it suspended in orbit to prevent it from being used against him again. Three years later, the distraught mind of a disembodied astronaut called Hank Henshaw jumped into the matrix, and he made himself a tiny little spaceship from its technology, then sped off into deep space. Eventually, he went mad, hooked up with Mongul, and used the DNA information he got from the birth matrix to make himself a half-Kryptonian body. Hence: the Cyborg Superman. (As for that kryptonite rock, it ended up in Lex Luthor's hands... soon to be "hand".)
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Also during Byrne's run, Superman briefly visited a "pocket" universe inhabited by a Silver Age-type Superboy, who died by the end of that storyline. Months later, the pocket Earth had turned into a hellhole thanks to three Kryptonian criminals. They too died by the end of that storyline... by Superman's hand. Feeling guilty over killing those killers, Superman exiled himself in space, was captured by Mongul's Warworld, and found an ancient egg-shaped relic created by his ancestors: the Eradicator. Superman brought the Eradicator back to Earth and it built him a nice Fortress of Solitude, but it also took over his mind and turned him into the emotionless Krypton Man -- who became an entity of its own after Superman overcame it. After Superman's death, the Fortress' robots rebooted the Eradicator so he could follow his “preserve Kryptonian life” directive and restore Superman back to life, but he got a little confused and thought HE was Superman. Hence: the Last Son of Krypton.
Another concept introduced by Byrne was the idea that Kryptonian DNA is too complex to be duplicated by Earth scientists, which led to the creation of Bizarro. Byrne's World of Krypton miniseries also established that Kryptonians used clones as spare parts to extend their lifetimes, and the conflict over clone rights literally tore the planet apart. So when Superman learned of a cloning facility near Metropolis called Project Cadmus, he immediately felt uneasy about it. After his death, Cadmus got hold of his body so they could create a replacement, but, again, you can't clone a Kryptonian... so they simply created an approximation of Superman's powers and features using human DNA. Hence: Superboy.
As for Steel, he's just Steel. Hence: Steel. Incidentally, if you’re wondering why his armor has been reduced to just some metal shorts by the end of the issue, here’s the answer. Pretty self-explanatory.
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The only major plotline left dangling after this issue (aside from Dr. Stratos, of course) is Lex's own death/return/cloning misadventure, but the Super-Squad will deal with that in a big way pretty soon. Oh, and then there's the mess they left for Green Lantern, but that's another creative team's problem. (SHAMELESS PLUG: Follow my new Green Lantern '94 to '04 blog to see how that mess turned out.)
Believe it or not, there's even MORE stuff to talk about in this issue, so don’t miss the great Don Sparrow's section after the jump:
Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):
In the first place I have to say that this issue is an all-time favourite of mine, probably in my top three of this era of comics we’ve been so dutifully covering.  The excitement at my local comic shop for this issue was incredible, and already being the Superman fan that I was, I felt like I was on the ground floor. [Max: I also remember the excitement when I first saw this issue in my cousin’s hands after he showed it to me the day he bought it... then didn’t let me touch it, so I read it years later.]
We start with the cover, and I got the deluxe edition, with the chromium cover.  Back when this issue came out, I had a love/hate relationship with Image comics.  I wasn’t interested in the dark & gritty characters like Spawn and the like, and generally thought the Image books favoured flash over substance and storytelling.  BUT, man, did the colouring and paper they used at Image ever look cool!  So I was a bit torn about DC using a “gimmicky” feature like this—it looked amazing, but I also felt it was leaning a little far in the direction of sizzle over steak.  But I didn’t mind that much, since this had been such a great story to this point.  Aside from the metallic 3D look of the cover, the drawing is great, too.  It was the first look at the returned Superman in the full suit, and also with the long hair present.  DC must have thought that the long hair was a gamble on some level (even though we’d seen it for months in the actual issues) because they hid it from the covers for so long. [Max: This was also the cover they used in both the Spanish and Mexican editions I have, so that’s what I went with for the top of this post. The “normal” cover looks like a historic oddity to me.]
Inside the issue, we jump in with another splash page—there are a lot of these, and it really calls back Superman #75, as most of the pages have one main image, with a few small panels laid overtop.   This one features another interpretation of the Eradicator, with short, non-spiky hair—it’s interesting to see these characters reinterpreted week to week.  This opening page also commits the unpardonable sin of demanding that we stop reading the issue until AFTER we read Green Lantern #46.  Being a naïve 13 year old when I read this issue, I of course complied with the demands of DC editorial, and read Green Lantern first, not realizing it has a near identical plot (albeit from a different point of view), right down to the “broosh” at the end, very much spoiling what is about to come in Superman #82.  I remember being pretty steamed that my first glimpse of a returned Superman didn’t come in a Superman book.  While I appreciate the coordination, I do find the caption misleading.
Also similar to Superman #75—it’s very hard for me not to talk about every panel or page, because this whole book is just gorgeous.  The badassery from the last issue continues into this one, as Superman with his tough-guy attitude and giant gun is pretty cool.  One quibble I have with this team is that when they bury Superman’s eye’s in shadow, it can have a sinister or tired look, which I don’t think is the intention.  Some panels it’s more prominent than others, but in one panel on page 6 where it makes Superman look pretty rough, and a lot less handsome.  We get more big gun Superman later when he starts taking it to Engine City in general, knowing it is connected to the Cyborg.
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The Cyborg taking different shapes is done pretty effectively here, particularly when he forms himself out of what must be a lead-like metal to accuse Superman of a bunch of nutty stuff. The reveal of the Kryptonite heart of engine city is very well done, in part because of Eradicator’s bulging red eyes.  It is a bit weird to imagine a lipless robot saying “mmm, hmm” though.
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We get another great full-page splash as the Eradicator goes all-out in his effort to defeat the Cyborg.  The captions here always confused me though, where it says “(The Eradicator)  was built to kill…the other (the rocket that brought Superman to Earth, which the Cyborg used to create his new body) to bear new life.  The victor would be obvious.”  But to me, it’s not obvious.  I would think that in a Superman comic, a vessel of LIFE would be the big winner over ancient weaponry, but I think the caption intends the inverse. I guess it’s saying a gun would beat a baby crib? It’s one of those passages that sounds cool, until you think about it.  Or think about it excessively, as I clearly have. [Max: To be fair, a gun WOULD beat a baby crib. It would kick that baby crib’s ass.]
Superman’s haymaker knocking off the Cyborg’s jaw is an incredible visual, and there’s a subtle set-up for the great cape visual call-back that comes later.
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The entire sequence of the Eradicator taking the blast of Kryptonite is well done, in particular the panel when we see Superman through the vanishing Eradicator.  I’m a bit confused as to just how the Kryptonite suction thing works here—the Kryptonite meteor is shrinking and shrinking, but nothing is attached to it except for that one hose.  
Jurgens and Breeding do a great job of showing the physical cost of Green Lantern going toe to toe with Mongul.  It also sets up for my all-time favourite Superboy quote, one I think might be seen on this site from time to time in meme form, “Check it out! The Lantern looks so totaled it makes me want to hurl!”.  This entire saga has been worth it, to get to that line.  Just magnificent. [Max: I think Hal went evil because of that one comment.]
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The glimpse of the burnt-out husk of the Eradicator is also incredibly well drawn—and painful looking—but even by the end of this story he seems a lot more recovered.
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The scene of the returned-to-full-power Superman decking the Cyborg is a stand-up-and-cheer moment, and I love the detail that Superman is holding the cape for this whole scene. It’s interesting that as the Cyborg starts to get damaged in the fight, we see how little organic material there is. Metal seems to poke through the skin on his face, as if only a thin sheet were laid over the metal.  and when Superman punches right through him, there’s really no blood or anything, just a dry, cracked crater.  I had thought, up until this issue that the cybernetic parts were beside real skin and bones (as if to replace the damaged parts of Superman’s body from his fight with Doomsday), but this issue seems to posit that he’s all robot, with only a veneer of Kryptonian flesh overtop.  
The normally merciful Superman is pretty blood-thirsty here, vibrating his arm fully in the knowledge it might kill Henshaw (who helpfully reminds us, he’s survived before).  [Max: That moment kind of rubbed me the wrong way, and I think Jurgens himself felt uneasy with it too. One of the highlights of his recent “Rebirth” run was that Superman deliberately decides to jail Hank instead of killing him to at least give him a chance to be rehabilitated, which would be cool to see happen one day.] I love the little glimpse we get of the restored, and re-costumed Superman before the full reveal, and as a character moment, I love that he would think to show gratitude for the heroes who filled in when Superman was dead.
The next few pages are pure joy, as it’s such a treat to see our Superman soaring around in the sunshine, even with the new Tarzan haircut.  It’s such a show of restraint that they didn’t pack a reunion with Lois into this issue, instead allowing a different superteam to tell that story, which very much deserves its own issue.  Overall, though, I just remember feeling such a sense of joy, and relief that Superman was back, and back to full power. [Max: SPOILERS: And then some...]
STRAY OBSERVATIONS:
I do love this era of comics before swearing (or even censored swearing) was a thing, because they have the weirdest phrases. John Byrne would always have characters saying “blast” instead of “damn” to an absolutely ridiculous degree.  In this issue, I don’t know for sure if “crud” is a stand-in for another word, but it does strike me as downright odd for Green Lantern to use it as a noun against Mongul.  The concept of “a crud” just amuses me, though I suppose it could be meant in the same vein as “scum” or something.
Is it me, or does Jeb look like Ricardo Montalbon here? [Max: Oh crud, I forgot Jeb was in this issue! Jeb was in this issue, everyone.]
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I love they don’t even give the Cyborg a moment to be cool.  Just as he’s about to reveal his true identity in a villainous speech he gets clocked by Superboy, in one of my favourite moments with the character (but not my very favourite, as we’ve seen.)  I also like the low-level burn that Henshaw assumes that Superman must already know who he is, but Superman’s like, nope.
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I do like that this issue goes to great lengths to explain that Superman can’t just keep returning from the dead, even going so far as to say it would never work again.  My pet theory is that the Eradicator’s Resurrection Matrix only worked because Pa Kent’s spiritual journey in Adventures of Superman #500 really did happen. [Max: I might be misremembering, but I think the upcoming issue of Action pretty much confirms that.]
I’m glad to see him recovered, but I kinda think Eradicator spoiled the moment a little with his observation about Green Lantern.
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[Max: Blast it, Sparrow! You’ve done it again!]
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