#it seems that all you have to do is dump some guy adjacent characters into XIX/XXc London and I will love them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mjsparkour · 3 years

Note

Okay, I asked you a while back for some fic recs and I am in need of more. Have you read any Gina x Ricky lately? Would love for you to share the ones you've loved

Hey!

I’m so glad you liked my rec the last time, there have been alot of fics that have been written since you last asked so this list was super hard to limit. There are alot in this list alone (17 overall I think). I could always recommend more, Rina writers are just so talented. So here's a list of some of my favorites <3

The Story of Us by peculiarblue

‘gina learns that sometimes things have to fall apart so that they can fall back together, right where they were always meant to be’ This is a complete 2 part chapter fic

Thee Rina bible. It’s everything we could ever want and need. Everything we want s2 to be and more. It’s an absolute masterpiece in every way. So many parts where I nearly died, the angst in the fight scene, the tension before they made up (the dress scene that reminded me so much of that amylaurie scene I lost my mind a little more), them being absolutely gone for each other!!! it’s just perfect in every way.

When Your With Me and Were Alone by orphan account

‘Ricky Bowen remembers everything.’ This is a one-shot three-part completed series.

My favorite series, it’s gotta be. It’s the first of its kind for rina fics. Lore does an incredible job of realistically writing rina’s characterization and reactions to Gina moving and what would happen after. A wonderfully talented writer, utilizing the power of her words while minimalist carries an effect.

You Know Me Better by This_is_Riri

‘Gina was moving. This would be her sixth move in seven years. She was used to it by now...only this time, it felt different. Post episode 7.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

This one really gets you at your gut. Heart-wrenching for both characters but mainly gina. The vents that happen to both characters, it just makes sense that so much more than their vunerabilities bonds them together. Perfect execution of the mutual understanding trope.

and I know I’ve kissed you before by ptrprkrs

‘but I didn’t do it right / can i try again, try again, try again? or: 5 times ricky kisses gina + 1 time she kisses back’ This is a complete one-shot.

I love a good five times plus one fic. This one is heartwarming, cheeky and cute. It gives a healthy balance of the inevitable anguish that comes with pining (and not just for the character but for frustrated readers that just wanna put these kids together already) but also the sweet innocence and fluff from first love (or first love adjacent).

what love might have done by rradioh

‘Ricky follows his gut. Everything changes. Some things stay the same.’ This is a completed one shot.

A good look into what could've been for season one. Reflecting moments that felt like they could’ve easily been placed in the show and showed the subtly of the growth of rinas relationship. It wasn’t something that was thrown into our faces but came gradually and this fic facilitates that growth with key moments that add to that. A Great one-shot.

And the 7th Thing I Hate The Most That You Do (You Make Me Love You) by iknowpIaces

‘It doesn’t help that he really does look good in his costume. God, she hates him. She hates him. She hates him. Then, he has the nerve to smile at her. And Gina hates how that smile alone sends her over the moon.’ This is a completed one shot.

SOOOO GOOD. No one understands, I love the trope where one person has a crush on the other and it's unrequited (or it seems that way) but eventually it's apparent that they're also just as gone for that person as soon as they start moving on, or feeling fine with having their feelings not reciprocated. Then they're both just mutual pining messes, ugh I love it. This fic handles the trope with care and rina just comes together organically.

lesson in love by finelineholland

“Give me 4 weeks. I’ll help you out. Like… a crash course, if you will. 'How to be the perfect boyfriend for Nini Salazar-Roberts': A class taught by yours truly.” This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

A rom-com in the form of a fic. It’s so true to Ricky and Gina as characters and their dynamic. The writing is really good and gives so much in terms of plot. I really hope it updates soon because I love a good makeover/transformation fic, it gives she’s all that and geek charming in the best ways.

take me to the feeling by peculiarblue

‘gina meets a stranger at a party she doesn't want to be at, and let's herself fall in love for the night, wherever it takes them’ This is a completed one shot.

Katie does it again. Another classic that makes us fall for rina while they fall for each other under the stars. You can’t help but feel something for them right off the bat because theirs something about the cheekiness of the dynamic and so real. You can’t help but fall for them, a must read.

The Last Time by mytearsricochet

‘this is the one where gina meets ricky and nothing is against them. except for a few misunderstandings, forgotten birthdays, wrong people, and missed opportunities. because as much as love doesn’t care about time, this is the one where time cares about love. and with time, everything falls into place.’ This is a completed one shot.

SO UNBELIAVBLEY UNDERRATED. This fic is too excellent, it's everything rinas could want. it’s an incredibly well done long slowburn that makes you strap in for the ride. With all those teasing moments where they're mutually pining and they're just on the precipice of finding out their feelings for one another only to hold back and stay friends (until the end of course). The end makes you work for it, but so worth it when you get to it.

10 Days in “Love” by kindredspiritsxo

‘It was almost the end of high school and nobody had it figured out. Especially Ricky Bowen. His parents had recently divorced, he had no idea what he's doing for college, his longtime girlfriend dumped him the month before and now he's been replaced by one of the most popular guys in school.

To make matters worse, he leaves for Europe in two days for his senior trip. The same senior trip that said ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend were going on. So, Ricky did what any desperate teenage boy would do to try and get his girlfriend back: he devised a plan. A plan that included the help of Gina Porter and playing pretend for 10 days.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

I love a good traveling fic. Sometimes all it takes to get a character to wake up about things going on in their lives or feelings for character b is a good change of scenery. This fic does a great job of utilizing the enviornment to facilitate rinas love story through one of my favorite tropes, the fake dating trope. There's some angst along the way because nothing can ever come easy but it's not without its reward. It gives me major spiderman far from home vibes just solely because of petermjs adorableness and how that energy kinda translates to rina in this fic more so in the beginning before they have this repertoire.

on the line by peculiarblue

‘with everything in her life finally at a stand still for once the last thing gina needs is one curly haired skater to come in and give her a reason to change again

(or, gina lets ricky back into her life the only way she knows how, at a distance, through daily voicemails, until her heart remembers why she can't love him anymore.)’ This is a completed one shot.

It hurts in the best way possible! that is the best way to describe this fic. Were taken on a journey where I personally wanted rina to just talk to each other in person but the magic was all in the voicemails and the power of their connection. There was a satisfying ending, I couldn't ask for more. If you haven’t read literally everything written by Katie go read it, it won't disappoint.

but everywhere just brings me back to you by ptrprkrs

‘or, ricky is just a little in love with the voice of the girl at the starbucks drive-thru’ This is a completed one shot.

An amazing fic that hits every spot effortlessly, even the ones you didn’t know you had. Like Ricky being a lovesick puppy going to a drive-thru just to hear Gina’s voice for coffee, he doesn’t drink or like. All the while they’d been connected all along. I’m a sucker for any kind of soulmate implications or stories where people are unknowingly connected like that so this ones a real favorite for me. It’s sweet, lighthearted and funny and a great read.

About Love by goldenthread

‘a series of Interconnected one shots and canonical aus for Ricky and Gina <3.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

Here's where I enter some shameless self-promo...I wrote this recently. It’s just some loosely connected one-shots I have of rina based on canon. I write about an alternate first meeting, what would've happened if Gina had to understudy Nini in a rehearsal and (for a future chapter) a babysitting au (for what happened when Gina actually told Ricky the truth, she was babysitting her neighbor's kid when she talked to him at the skatepark). Check it out if it sounds like your thing!

in your eyes by finelineholland

‘you always try to hide the pain, you always know just what to say. i always look the other way. i'm blind, i'm blind. in you eyes, you lie, but i don't let it define you.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

There is something about Rina being written about from an outside perspective that is just so excellent. The story starting with Nini noting the obvious chemistry and their connection and being threatened by it, I don’t know it's just so pleasing to me. Another fic like that one of my favorites (one that I’m pretty sure I’ve suggested in my other rec list), pretend i don’t see it in your eyes by spobylol. Another absolutely excellent read that does not miss once. This story in contrast also writes from rina’s perspective as well which I also thought was well done.

right from the start I knew by anonymous

‘“Uh.” Ricky really didn’t think this far ahead. To be fair, it’s not like he’s ever thought ahead about anything ever in his life, so this is really to be expected. “We - forget about it? Maybe. Or like - I don’t know. I think I have to figure out how to be like - a person right now. By myself.”

“Same.” Gina says absently. “I’ve spent what feels like my whole life thinking about what other people think of me. It’d be nice to - to be able to try looking beyond that for a change.”

Post-Season 1. Ricky and Nini break up, but that doesn't mean things work out right away.’ This is a completed one shot.

The most iconic love confession I’ve read in a rina fic to date. it’s just so good, a certified rush every single time. The mutual pining hits spectacularly especially when you see just how soon it starts to hit Ricky that he’d made a mistake getting with Nini and him paying for that mistake. The writing only amplifies it. Also Ricky telling Gina he’s obsessed with her? yeah, I automatically added this fic to my list of faves.

If they only knew by goldenthread

‘Ricky Bowen never really bought into the whole soulmate thing (except he did) but life got in the way and now he's sort of pretending to date new (totally not intimidating) girl Gina Porter to win back the one and only Nini Salazar Roberts. Not a single thing could go wrong.

The one where Ricky and Gina aren't so good at the whole soulmate thing and they fake date.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

More shameless self promo, sorry y’all but I’m super proud of this one. It’s a soulmate and fake dating au, combining two of my fave tropes into one to make this (surprisingly) long fic. It’s a whirlwind of emotions and a lot of moving parts in the story. I plan on updating within two months then after that there's three more chapters until its finished :) hope y’all enjoy it if you decide to give it a read!

you are the best thing & the worst thing (that’s happened to me this whole year) by tophsgf

‘Gina's roommate Nini is unbearable. What's more unbearable, however? Her very charismatic and totally off-limits sort-of boyfriend.’ This is a completed one shot.

An amazing fic, I need more people to know about it! I really like fics where the development between Ricky and Gina is gradual, which seems to be the case for a lot of fics but for this one in particular I like its execution. Obviously, at first, he’s with Nini so it’s like the dynamic is at a point of comparison from the start but we quickly learn that thanks to good ole mutual understanding and overall compatibility Ricky and Gina are just right for each other. A fun read that hits all the bases.

#rina #ricky x gina #ricky bowen #gina porter #hsm #hsmtmts #high school musical #high school musical the musical the series #nini salazar roberts #rini #rina fanfic #rina fanfiction #rina fics #gina x ricky #disneyplus #disney

111 notes · View notes

redantsunderneath · 4 years

Text

DC COMICS: Incoherence as Not-a-Bug-but-a-Feature (Spoilers for Batman 89-100)

Due to the emergence of the new Batman villain character Punchline, I wound up buying the last 12 issues of Batman and reading them in a single sitting. I’ve had trouble following DC comics for a while, constantly feeling that they were in trouble since back in the mid 2000s (with a glimmer of hope here and there). The act of reading DC comics has been a frustrating experience, where individual good stories and runs were laying around in the context of a lot of things that didn’t make sense while the company’s thrust felt chaotic and ideas not well blended. Every status quo change seemed hard to figure out the rules of enough to parse the context. We’ll get into the background of this, but my reading today of this extended stretch of comics that keeps losing the plot in favor of a fever dream of what’s happening at the moment with specific characters that refuse to cohere, it became obvious that what I had been looking at as subtext or critique was actually the text. I could see the messed up trees but was missing the the forest the universe was trying to describe.

What happens in these issues (Batman current series 89-100, I missed the beginning of the first of 2 arcs) is rolling war between the major Batman villains and the heroes (plus Harley Quinn and Catwoman), which shifts into a Joker and Joker adjacent vs. all as the Joker double crosses everyone then manages to steal Bruce Wayne’s fortune. We meet 3 new baddies – Underbroker, whose schtick is putting ill-gotten gains beyond the reach of the legal system (with an explicit line to rich globalists drawn), the Designer, who back in the day offered the four A list Batman villains plans to achieve what they most wanted, and Punchline, who is your toxic ex’s new millennial GF who really has it in for you (there is also a new good guy Clownhunter, which is a whole different thing, and a new costumed detective that predates Batman). This doesn’t convey the chaotic nature of what is happening issue to issue, but there’s more than one Batman hallucinogenic spirit quest, dead characters ostensibly walking around, a plan revolving around the Bat’s origin story that tells some version of it several times, and a no-nonsense declaration that the Joker, as the Devil of the Batman spiritual system, cannot die. The whole thing has the effect of convincing you there is no definitive sequence of events, only versions.

Alan Moore’s Killing Joke is not a favorite of mine, for a number of reasons. But the ending holds up. The Joker has done terrible things there is no antecedent for, and Batman wonders aloud if this never-ending dance they do ends in anything but both of their deaths; can they uncouple from the unhealthy duality the cycle of which simply repeats. The Joker responds, well, with a joke about two lunatics trying to escape an asylum. One jumps the roof to the next building, while the other is too scared to try. The escapee offers to hold a light while the other crosses on a beam but he says no, no you’ll just cut the light while I’m half way across. This not very funny joke nonetheless has a bunch of resonances – BM and Joker as conspiring co inmates, BM wanting to break out, a commentary about their natures (almost a reversal of the frog and scorpion story where the scorpion won’t go because he knows how this ends), but mostly it implicates BM as the one who is enabling the cycle, the reason why it won’t end. They both laugh uproariously, and the ambiguous final panels can be read as the fundamental realization of his complicity causing BM to kill J. A lethal joke indeed… except, next month, we see the both of them again. In broader context, the ceaseless cycle of the diad is reaffirmed. This has been hellaciously sticky as an idea in the Batmen universe.

My realization of what DC has been doing is pretty banal in its pieces. Marvel has “ground level” heroes while DC has a mythos, a pantheon. Their archetypal makeup is strong, the seven JLA members lining up with the pantheon of Greek gods and the Chakras weirdly closely. DC has big characters that are somewhat flat which they can use tell big bold individual stories that are cool the way legends and fables are cool. But these stories require bold strokes that a bit incompatible with each other. People get attached to these iterations. Meanwhile, Marvel trucks in soap operas where the characters give you an empathetic stand in and are narratively flexible. Marvel events are usually about the writer vs. the company, asking you to sympathize or deconstruct the creative impulse amid efforts to impose control or order. DC’s events are about editorial vs. the audience, the shapers vs. the forces of the world. It may seem obvious, given this description, that DC’s focus is on an archetypal tableau though it may be less obvious that this tableau is under extreme pressure from expectations when trying to tell ongoing tales month in, month out (or semi-monthly in some cases). The stories are constantly compared against the big stories that have gone before, and the audience’s ideas of the characters exert pressure to push them in directions that capture “the” version they believe in. This circle is not possible to square.

DC and Marvel both have a multiverse of sorts. DC used to tell “Elseworlds” stories which were later tucked into pocket universes. DC invented crossing over between “realities.” DC’s continuity is heavy baggage and they began to have “Crises” to resolve the narrative incompatibilities. These only made things worse as you can’t get rid of the past people have a relationship with – it will come back. Now you have to explain that away too. Marvel just lets it lay – forget about the iffy stories, they count, sure, just no one is ever going to talk about them unless they have an angle. Marvel continuity is all angles and amnesia. This is just easier to do with dating and rent and your ancient aunt’s medical bills than with Gods. Marvel’s multiverse is about sandboxes that you can always dump into the mainframe if they work (and never really mention the sandbox again).

There is a shift that occurred in the industry in the 2004 to 2005 era that is less remarked upon than many upheavals in comic’s history. Marvel had gone through a period of incredible new idea generation in the early 2000s after a late 90s creative cratering but had just fired the pro wrestling inflected soul of that moment (Bill Jemas). DC was coming off of a period of trying to do moderately updated versions of what they basically been doing all along. The attitude was “yeah we’re under stress from the combined history of these characters, but we got to keep telling the stories.” Geoff Johns was one voice of DC over the 99-04 period that showed potential - he seemed to get how to find the core of characters and push them into a new in sync directions if they over the years have lost a clear identity. But mostly he had internalized a basic schism between something mean that the audience wanted, and something good and wholesome about the characters themselves, and figured out how to mess around with this in a equilibrating fashion.

Interestingly, the ignition point of the main forces that were going to blow DC over the next decade and a half was a comic that had virtually nothing to do with any of those main forces. Brad Meltzer, a novelist, was hired to do a comic called Infinity Crisis, which sold extremely well and was, justifiably or not, recognized as an event. At the same time, everyone also kind of hated it because the dark desires of some DC fans were pushed forward just a bit too much for comfort and for a comic with Crisis in the name it didn’t do a whole lot other than “darken” things. Nonetheless, this lit an “event” fire at both companies. Marvel chose a shake up the status quo for a year, then do it again, pattern and was off to the races (I have written about this, and more, here) while continuing its Randian framing of beleaguered do-gooders opposed by rule making freedom haters.

As this was playing out, Dan Didio quietly took power in DC Editorial. His outlook was more Bloomian – he seemed to spark off of writers who exhibited anxiety of influence. He recognized Johns was the one person they had could be promoted into something of a universe architect, starting work on two key projects from which the rest would evolve. The first, was bringing back Hal Jordan as Green Lantern and diffracting the GL universe into its own symbolic system, with parts frisson-ing other parts, and almost a Magic the Gathering color scheme of ideas. The other was to build up to Infinite Crisis, which would become the model for most of their universe changing events until the present day.

The basic frame is this: DC heroes want to be good (in a sense of their inherent nature) but forces outside form a context that makes them fall. It’s a very gnostic universe, DC. They examine reflections of the concepts, invent scapegoats for certain tendencies (see Superboy Prime as entitled fanboy, Dr. Manhattan as editors that try and fail to mend things, etc), make characters violate principles, rehabilitate them, then show that the world if anything is more broken than before. This is kind of Johns’ thing and it fits Didio’s narrative as historicval tension fetish. But then came Scott Snyder (not to be confused with Zack) who began to work on Batman in 2011. Since then, as much as Justice League is pushed as the central title and Lex Luthor has been pimped, Batman has been the core of the universe and the Joker the core villain.

Snyder had the same continuity conflict wavelength but was significantly more meta and able to contain multitudes than Johns. He was the first to make an explicit mystery of how there could be several Jokers around at one time (who are the same but not, he posited 3 – man, Christians!) that seems prescient given the near future coexistence of filmic Jokers that are not able to be resolved. I believe he was the first to begin to tease out an idea – that different versions of things in comics are not a diffraction or filter effect, a using the set of things that work best for that story and leaving the rest, but are a matter of the archetypal system of the audience coming apart. From an in story perspective what appears to happen is that multiple versions of incompatible things exist in the collective unconscious of the continuing narrative, and this is something that the characters may become conscious of.

The run I just read is written by James Tynion IV building on the above trends. The trick seems to be going all in on the Jungian aspect (at Jung’s most religiously epiphanic). The Designer was a progenitor and adversary to Batman’s predecessor and his intellectual approach eventually defeated the detective… broke him. At some point in early Batman history, the Designer brought the top four Bat-baddies together and offered each, in turn, a plan to achieve what they most desired: the Riddler, a way to achieve an empire of the mind; the Penguin, power; and Catwoman, money. They are all elated as they await the Joker to come out. The Joker emerges with a furious Designer on his heals and promptly shoots him dead. He explains that he didn’t like his joke in the form of a fable – the devil offered four people the path to their greatest desire: the three chose earthly things, but the Joker’s wish was to be him, to become the devil. The story proceeds to suggest that the Joker just exists, he is present as a necessary component in the system. You can kill him, yet he is alive.

DC has been using physics metaphors for the nature of their reality since Flash of Two Worlds in 1963. The multiverse as a continuity concept was their idea and the holographic universe of the hypertime was a thing. It seems like since Dan Didio took over, they’ve been heading towards a concept of broad superimposition, of measurement effect being weak, of the universe being like a quantum computer with all possibilities coexisting and the story instantiating not one reality but a path through all the possible ones. By making Batman trip balls through quite a few issues and relive his origin from different angles, the story is one of its own instability and the heroic task that confronts our hero is attempting to actualize the world. The Joker is the Devil in the sense of lack of fixed meaning, of relativistic chaos, of the world not making sense because it’s unmoored nature with ultimately no knowability. Batman, in this story, functions as a postmodern knight crusading against the impossibility of epistemological grounding.

There’s more going on, sure. One plot is, literally, defund Batman. There is rioting, people brainwashed by being exposed to toxic ether, people paid to go to theaters even though they will die as a result, and questions about neoliberalism similar to that one Joker movie. Punchline has no personality yet (Tynion’s not the best at that) but she serves well as a generational foil for Harley – a rudderless ideological vacuum susceptible to Joker-as-idea-virus rather than an unfulfilled MD who felt alienated due to the structures of her life and was seeking escape into structureless possibility. The Designer stuff is both continuity play (See why they changed from goofy villains to more “realistic” ones! Look how pulp heroes informed superheroes!), a comment on the nature of a longstanding narrative (strong intentions die out as Brownian motion overwhelms momentum), and a lawful evil/chaotic evil setup of the dualism of apocalypses (overdetermined authoritarian vs. center does not hold barbarism). But the thing that ties this to the past decade and a half of DC is the sense that the reality is fluid and susceptible to change or outright s’cool incompatibility.

This is different than other flavors of meta in superhero comics. Grant Morrison believes the archetypes are stronger than the forces that seek to bend them. Alan Moore wants you to deconstruct your sacred cows and probably hates you personally. Marvel might play with self-awareness, but effortlessly resolves inconsistencies after it’s finished playing. DC, at this point, allows you to watch the waves solidfy into symbols and dissolve, and the constant confusion and lack of grounding is more of a choice then I thought this time yesterday. The conflict theory of DC reality has been in full swing but this looks to be turning towards a kind of Zen historicism, holding contradictory things in your mind at once. Warren Ellis’ JLA/Authority book is the nearest comparable text I can think of. I need to call this, but I didn’t even talk about Death Metal, DC character multiplicity as meta-psychosis event extraordinaire. Comics just keep getting weirder.

#DC comics #batman #joker #punchline

90 notes · View notes

aethylas · 3 years

Text

For anonymous: a series of answers/clarifications/amendments on The Goldenrod Revisions! (I've answered these all in one post just to make it easier). Thank you so much for the asks, this helped me a) clarify my thoughts b) solve some canon continuity issues so I really appreciate them!

THANK U for agreeing to answer my questions! I'll have to ask them separately so they're not in 1 super-long impossible-to-read ask. I have 3 about 15x19, 1 about 15x20, 2 about 15x21, 2 about 15x22, and 2 about 15x23. quick disclaimer: i don't mean any offense at all by my question count! I didn't even notice these oddities the first time I read this; once I read it and accepted it as the true canon, I took a closer look and then noticed. but plz don't think these made your fic any less great!!

No worries anon! It is literally my pleasure to answer them and I am VERY very happy to find discrepancies with canon in the fic - then I can hopefully fix them and make the fic better :) Also I really appreciate the very systematic way you laid all these out, it really helped me reply, and also subsequently make a couple of edits to the fic!

For 15x19:

1. Why did Chuck trust Michael with the task of killing Jack? As God he should know Michael betrayed him in 15.08; did he expect Michael to disobey him again?

I think in this case we're/Chuck is relying on knowledge from the canon 15.19, i.e. Chuck would assume the outcome predicted by the show - that Michael WOULD betray the Winchesters/the world in order to please his father. So God assumed Michael would act the way he did in Inherit The Earth. But additionally, Chuck isn't actually very keyed-in to his own characters' motivations (esp. when love is involved) or very attached to certain results - he basically sends Michael and Lucifer to kill Jack because he figures it will entertain him no matter what happens - whether Michael and Lucifer kill each other, whether they kill the Winchesters/Jack, etc. - either Jack dies this way or Chuck will think of another way to do it.

2. How was Sam able to kill Lucifer? It was said only an archangel could kill another archangel with the archangel blade; was this a total lie or could Sam do it since he's Lucifer's true vessel? (plz don't change it to have Michael kill him; Sam being the one to do it was perfect, I just wanna understand how he could do it).

So glad you raised this because I honestly totally forgot! But now that you have, I have corrected that lore continuity with a line about biblical metaphors.

3. How is Rowena alive? She said she was dead in 15.08, so I initially assumed as a witch and the Queen of Hell she found a way to travel between Hell and Earth despite being dead. But then Sam says "Michael could've killed you" and then Chuck kills her twice in 15.21, both of which indicate she's alive here - does this mean Michael resurrected her when she summoned him?

God okay this is like - please call me out if this is incorrect or still confusing - but it's kind of like, based on the very inconsistent and confusing lore of the SPN afterlife that I assume Rowena is 'dead' but also 'alive' in the sense that Crowley was 'alive' and is now 'dead'. Does that make sense? She's not 'alive' as a human but rather as a demon (or something like it). So as Queen of Hell and a presumably demonic-adjacent entity, when she's 'killed' she gets sent to the Empty now vs. being 'killed' as a human and going to Heaven/Hell. (Based on when we see her in Hell, I assume she possesses her own body? Unclear. Just go with it. They've never been great with what it means to show vessels in Heaven/Hell etc.)

4. I thought asked all I wanted to know about Goldenrod but I just thought of 1 more thing: I don’t get why some dialogue implies Michael was dead? He mentions how he “found himself back on Earth” and tells the Empty it couldn’t stop Chuck from resurrecting him & Lucifer, but prior to 15.19 we last saw Michael leaving the bunker with Adam alive and well in 15.08, and it seemed like he was gonna stay on Earth for Adam’s sake. So what happened to him?

Oh that's a great point! I think that is actually just a confusing choice on my part that Chuck killed absolutely everyone including Michael/Adam in 15.18 Despair and THEN chose to resurrect Michael (but not Adam) alongside Lucifer when he was bored/wanting to kill Jack. I made some slight adjustments in-text to hopefully make it less confusing because I know that's different to the lore of canon 15.19 Inherit the Earth.

For 15x20:

1. How did the angels and demons in the Empty wake up? Did Michael use the last of his grace to wake everyone up? Were they already awake thanks to Jack blowing up in 15x18 or did they somehow sleep through that? (Not expanding on the Empty's claim that "you made it loud" is one of countless things I'll never forgive the actual show for, so THANK YOU for taking the show back to the Empty in the first place; I was just curious about this one element.)

So the Empty was already 'loud' according to canon, but since canon is vague on what exactly that means (thank you writers!...) I got the impression it meant the Empty wasn't 'peaceful' anymore but still powerful enough to suppress the beings inside, like the beings in there were awake and suffering but unable to rebel. Sort of what we see with Cas in this version of 15.20. Maybe like, additional suffering in sleep paralysis? Regardless, Michael does expend his grace to weaken the Empty enough that other beings wake up and/or are able to fight back and exist outside their own personal nightmare chamber. So whatever your impression of 'loud' is with regards to the other beings in there, assume Michael was able to free them from the Empty's control.

For 15x21:

1. Having Jack & Amara take out Hell & Purgatory was a BRILLIANT idea; I love that they ended all the places of suffering and changed the system. I just wonder - what happened to the souls and the demons still in Hell at that point, and the Leviathans and other monsters still in Purgatory? Were they just wiped out completely and sent to the Empty? Or did Jack turn them human and add them to the cycle? (I don't think the show clarified whether or not Leviathans have souls, so...)

No matter whether they were monster or demon or even angel, they would eventually be given human life. I broke it down to 'human enough souls' vs. 'not human enough souls'. Human-enough were immediately brought to life with memories and versions of their original bodies, and not-human-enough were sent to the Soul Queue to be born as infants. I assume Leviathan and most demons fall into 'not human enough', therefore, whatever tiny microbe of personality/soul they had was added to the cycle of rebirth and would be translated to a new human soul. Of course this might have a WILDLY different impact on the world depending on how many people go to hell in this system, how many people were 'human enough', etc.... But we're basically fudging those numbers a bit one way or another just to give certain characters the revival they deserve haha.

2. Did Cas drown and die after Chuck threw him in the lake and Jack left their limbo-dream world? If so, did he go through the same question-&-answer situation with Death that Sam & Dean did? Or was he with Jack & Amara when they rebuilt the world?

Cas was already dead/dying even when he was talking to Jack, he was sort of in a different version of the 'Veil' per se. VERY wishy-washy, but basically he and Jack were on a different dream-plane that they were jolted to in the chaos of the disorganised no-Death world.

I think Cas, Rowena, Lucifer, Michael, etc. as beings who were killed after the snap is a bit ambiguous. Rowena and Lucifer, I think, as entities who were demonic-dead or Empty-level-dead pre-Snap probably went through the reincarnation Yes/No Death questionnaire. Cas and Michael might not have since they were technically 'alive' and human before the Snap. Regardless, I think they probably wouldn't remember the interaction even if they had it.

The reason the question happened to the Winchesters AND that they remember it is Main Character Syndrome... they were the only people left alive when Jack and Amara did a hard reset, and that honestly Death took time to chill/exposition at them because he likes them. Really. Despite all appearances. Or respects them enough to let them know what's gone down, anyway.

Metatextually, it was really just to reaffirm to the audience that Dean (and Sam) want to live, in contrast to 15.20 Carry On 😅

3. Did all the snapped people (Eileen, Adam, the Waywards, etc.) also go through the Death question-&-answer process but not remember it, or did Jack & Amara just send them back?

Snapped people were reset automatically! Normally the new-humans also wouldn't remember their interactions with Death/reapers, just like in canon lore when someone like Dean has a near-death experience.

I realise this whole section and various other lore reformation parts of the fic aren't SUPER clear on specific logistics but on some occasions I'm like, I've done enough info-dumping, I don't want to overwrite exposition. But if you think it's worth clarifying certain points let me know and I can try to do so!

For 15x22:

1. The twenty something blonde guy in sunglasses getting hot tea, is that Belphegor? sure sounds like it but I wanted to confirm.

Yep!

2. Since Death mentioned that Jack only resurrected the angels, demons, and monsters from the Empty who had enough of a soul, and since all the human souls from the Veil went to Heaven as confirmed by Kevin's presence, how exactly are Anna's human parents and Bela alive now?

Great question - 1) I SOMEHOW FORGOT ANNA'S PARENTS DIED? Complete screw up on my part, I don't know how that happened. I fixed this so it's her grandparents now. 2) Bela was sent to Hell as part of her deal, so I was assuming she was a demon by this point in canon (since it would be... MANY Hell-years since she died.) Therefore she had a 'human' enough demon soul to be put back as a human.

3. Oh, and the tall woman with the flyer in 15.22; who is this supposed to be? Hannah I’m guessing?

To be honest I didn't have anyone in particular in mind for that scene; it was kind of a catch-all for missing characters like, it COULD be Hannah. It could be Raphael. Hell, it could be Abbadon. I didn't want to do a full shot of every single person missing from the cast who had died (esp since like - we wouldn't know who they were anyway! Their bodies would be different). So this one is literally just fill-in-the-blank. But if I had to assign a character there I'd say it would probably be one of the more arrogant angels like Raphael or Uriel.

For 15x23:

1. How is Bobby in the Roadhouse with the gang? 10x17 seemed to imply the angels were about to throw him in the dungeons to punish him for helping Cas; did Ash hack him out of prison, or was he never imprisoned at all? Also, is Jack not surprised to see another Bobby in Heaven because the boys already told him there was another Bobby besides the one he knows from Apocalypseverse? (I was half-expecting him to comment about that and confuse Bobby).

Oh that's a great point! I think that's another sort of fill in the blank since it's been five years since 10.17... even if he was in prison of some kind, I think it's likely either Ash helped him get out in the same way he helped everyone else, and since the angels were extremely short-staffed I doubt getting Bobby suitably imprisoned/punished was their top priority. But honestly I'm not super clear on how the angels intended to punish Bobby, I don't think canon is clear either... like, We Just Don't Know.

Finally I'd like to know, has Sam proposed to Eileen yet by the end of the final episode? The script doesn't mention a ring on her finger, and as Sam's fiancee, I'd assume she'd also have carved her name on the table. Sam mentions the innuendos Dean has said "in the past year," so it's been a while since Jack's prayer scene, yet Cas says Dean & Claire's argument was the last time they spoke, and it doesn't seem likely to me that Dean wouldn't call Claire in a year given how close they are...

Nope! I think Sam is saying 'I'm going to marry her' as a declaration of certainty of his feelings and faith in the future, not neccessarily as something that immediately happens. With regards to 'in the past year', that referred to the period when Eileen was alive during s15 as well! I assume Dean did teasing off-screen (and I mean, he did plenty on-screen too.)

I honestly think that Sam and Dean are just very very busy in the aftermath of the events of the 15.20 reset, like they have to deal with the new world AND try to wrangle all these hunters into this new system of collaboration. I didn't put Eileen on the table because she isn't there in the finale and because I do think the Sam/Dean/Cas/Jack family unit was a bit more central and important to the show, but maybe they add her (and any possible kids, if they have any) later on. God, imagine generations of hunters and/or Winchesters carving on that table. Sacred Artefact...

(1) Ok that's all the questions I have. Again, so sorry to blow up your inbox - I really appreciate your willingness to clarify these things! If there are some things you'd rather not explain and leave ambiguous, I totally get that. And in spite of these aforementioned confusing parts, I still ADORE your fic and will continue to read it whenever I feel like re-"watching" how Supernatural really ended! Thank you so much!! .... (2) I’m SO sorry to overload u! I know I asked a lot and I didn’t mean to sound like a hater saying “none of ur story makes sense”; that’s not what I meant at all! If this was a regular good ol fix it fic I wouldn’t have said anything but since u said u wanted it to wrap up the show as replacement canon, I thought maybe I should point out places that didn’t line up. But take as MUCH time as you need! Good for you working to meet your deadlines; I hope you succeeded!! And again I really appreciate you taking the time to answer whenever you have time—absolutely no rush!! Have a GREAT Memorial Day Weekend!!!

Anon thank you SO SO much for all these questions, as you can see it really helped me identify problems or straight up errors in my work wrt continuity and I'm so happy that means I can improve it. If any of the answers weren't clear or you think I should modify the fic to make certain things clearer than they are right now (other than the things I said I'd fix in-text for sure) let me know! It's really been a pleasure answering them too, I'm sorry it took me so long to get around to it, I actually went back and proofed/edited the whole fic as part of adding some of these corrections in (and that took like... three weeks...) and as you said, it's very important to me to get it as true to canon as possible so - yeah, just, once again, thank you!! You're wonderful! ♥♥♥

#my fic #anonymous #ask #I should make fic-specific tags. someone remind me to go back and re-tag this blog with those sigh #every time I post on this blog I say that every single time #on round like. 20 of corrections now for this fic #post-posting #'goldenrod' revisions. laughable #we're easily on second cherry revisions now #the goldenrod revisions #my meta

5 notes · View notes

19mrs-barnes17 · 4 years

Text

Assistance

Summary: Castiel find himself helping a stranger despite her background.

Part:1/1

Pairing: Castiel x witch!reader

Warnings: minor cursing, arguing, mention of hunting

Word count: 1,826

A/N: I selected a list of dialogue prompts and characters, @cantnkrusshedevil matched them. This is 1 of 9. (prompt in bold)

Your fingers slid along the spines and the binding, the covers rough beneath your touch. Letters ran through your mind as you mouthed the call number until your finger fell into an empty slot between books. Not there, but not checked out. Someone stole it.

“Bastard.” You muttered under your breath as you scanned the surrounding shelves, praying silently that you had misjudged the situation and the previous reader couldn’t comprehend the dewy decimal system. “I’m fucked.”

Walking up to the desk you took note of a gentleman in a tan trench coat emerging through the glass doors and immediately disappearing amongst the stacks. The elderly woman sitting atop a high stool glowered down at you unflinchingly, clearly not believing you as you explained her book was missing. She waved you off, slowly descending to the floor and making for the shelf you had just searched. When the woman emerged she was furious, shouting for you to leave her store immediately.

You were too stressed about finding the copy of that book to care, it was of utmost importance you did. The lives of your family were in your hands, their protection fading as you ran around searching for it.

A graveled voice calls out to you but you refuse to face it, no time could be wasted on some man who ‘just had to tell you how beautiful you looked’.

“I have it.” Slowing to a stop you turned on the heel of your shoe to look the stranger in the eye, nearly forgetting to hold your ground as you almost slipped into the pools of crystal blue. “The book, I was the one who took it.”

“Who are you?” That book was a grimoire, one from your family in fact, and anyone desperate enough to steal it was not likely any friend of yours. You narrowed your eyes and took a single step forward, hands at your side for the time being. “What are you?”

“My name is Castiel, I’m an angel of the lord.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” He tilted his head to the side, eyes betraying his polite demeanor clearly having had this conversation one too many times.

“I am not.”

“Sarcasm, not very angelic.” He sighed, eyes moving to watch those passing by to their cars. “So… where is it?”

“It was taken from me.” You wanted to scream, of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Why do you want it?”

“Uh-uh, I speak the truth and you smite or something. I’d rather live to find another way, thanks.” He watched you curiously, gaze trailing to the sky as a soft sigh escaped his lips.

“I promise I will not smite you if you tell me the truth.” You laugh and he returns his focus to your eyes, bewilderment painting his features.

“What, am I supposed to believe you just because you’re an angel?” You take a deep breath before tearing your eyes from his. “I don’t trust anyone, especially not a higher being. I’ve read that story too many times to believe it could ever change.”

“I’m different.”

“Welcome to the club.” He stands silent, almost as still as a statue whilst his mind deliberated upon a thought.

“You’re a witch.”

“Clever boy, well done blue eyes. But, you really needn’t say it with such disdain, don’t forget that you too are classified as a monster.” He seems thrown off by the nickname, as you begin to walk away he calls out once more.

“I know where it is.” You stopped, glancing over your shoulder at the man as he began to catch up. “I didn’t mean to offend you, but I have yet to come across a witch who did not serve only herself.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting? I would’ve thought an angel would have more sauve.” You walked around him, his voice beginning to become a pestering annoyance as you made your way to your car. “Listen, if you have anything helpful to say then just say it. Otherwise, I’d rather not stand around as you accuse and insult me.”

“Why do you want it?”

“If you ask me that one more time I might just get a little less friendly.” You faced him one final time and the empathy in his eyes stuck a chord, but not well enough. “Why do you have to know? So you can determine whether I’m evil? Hate to be the one to tell you but nothing is that black and white, blue eyes.”

He said nothing, eyes studying you with more curiosity as the seconds pass by, unsure of what to think of you.

“It’s my family’s grimoire, can we just leave it at that for now?” You opened the door to your car, turning to bid him farewell when his next words cut you off.

“Very well, but I am coming with you.”

“Oh goody.” You roll your eyes and start the engine, shaking your head as the angel piles into the passenger’s seat. “Seatbelt, angel or not. House rule.”

“Yes ma’am.” Oh this was going to be fun, you could just tell.

“If you give me one more wrong turn I swear I’m going to toss you out that door. You’re an angel, you’ll heal.” He grumbles something under his breath and you shove his shoulder. “Where is the actual turn?”

“On your left.” You chuckled to yourself, but he was simply left baffled at how directions were suddenly comical. “It’s from a movie.”

You shut off the engine, the light that guided you fading into the darkness as you emerge from the vehicle. One glance at the angel beside you and you were hit by a sudden wave of anxiety. Why were you trusting this guy, he claimed to be an angel and yet he directed you to this dump via an actual map. You hadn’t seen any powers yet, so you were still weary. But he knew about magic, so he was either a hunter or telling the truth.

“What’s in there?” The entrance resembled what you imagined a fall out or a survivalist bunker to look like. It was in the middle of empty land and appeared to be deserted.

“The hunters who took it.” That was not what you wanted to hear come from his lips, not when you were far enough out from the nearest town to be murdered in broad daylight.

“Hunters?” He must have seen the fear in your eyes for raised his hands in peace and his features softened. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, not even as little as I did.”

“Hold on, they won’t hurt you. I swear.” He approached the door, hand on the knob as he turned to glance back at you. “I won’t let them.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But I have a feeling you aren’t, how did you put it, evil.” He smirked, eyes watching you again with that same curiosity in them.

“Is that supposed to comfort me after you continuously insinuated otherwise?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. Well, I did but I was not sure where you stood as a witch.” You knit your brow, locking gazes with the man. “I needed to know what you wanted spells for, some of those listed within are deadly.”

“Gee thanks, I just need it back for my family’s sake. Their lives are at stake without it. I need its protection.” You did your best to convey utter sincerity as he studied your eyes, judging truth from fiction within them.

“I believe you.” A fluttering in your chest had you breathless for a moment, and you allowed yourself a second to be lost in the pools of blue.

You sat at the table on your phone, scrolling through apps and trying to ignore the texts that screamed for you to hurry and not disappoint. The arguing in the adjacent room muffled by the door was becoming a frustrating obstacle. There was no time for this.

Without feeling an ounce of remorse you began searching the shelves, but with no luck you determined they were intelligent enough to hide it. Room searching it is. You were beginning to wonder if you’d find it before they stopped arguing, however the angel appearing as you poked your head down another hall meant otherwise.

“You should have waited.” You rolled your eyes and continued searching the rooms, Cas placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not in any of these rooms, come with me.”

He led you back to the entry room, the Winchesters stood looking rather displeased to have a witch wandering their halls freely. Cas tries to defend you again but the two hunters don’t seem to buy what he is selling, their eyes on you.

“I wasn’t about to sit there and waste time listening to you all scream about who’s right in some macho match off. I need my family’s grimoire so they stay safe. I don’t care if you believe me, you’re welcome to continue the long line of hunters who refuse to see the supernatural as anything but destructive. But me? I’m going to live in reality and use our book to revamp the cloaking spell that keeps us safe from trigger happy hunters looking for an excuse to draw blood.”

Your eyes land on the grimoire in the elder Winchester’s hands, his grip white knuckle tight and unyielding. An arched brow and an extended hand left him gripping the book even tighter. He wasn’t relenting.

“You said you’d help me blue eyes, was that a lie to get me here?” Cas met your gaze and shook his head, the two hunters perplexed at the response. “Your angel seems to trust me, but you never will. So just hand over what isn’t yours. Please.”

The younger Winchester nudged his brother, features still wary but trusting their angel friend enough.

“Dean.” Those blue eyes never looked so assertive as he gripped the other end of the grimoire, slowly prying it from the man’s grip. He turned to you and placed the large, leather clad book into your arms.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell any witches. Your reputation is safe.” Dean simply nodded, watching you closely as Cas walked you out of the bunker.

The grimoire is safely locked in its chest, your trunk slamming shut to reveal a blue eyed angel still standing there. He remained silent, eyes a confliction of emotions as he shifted his weight on his feet. You placed a kiss to his cheek before sliding into your car and rolling down the window.

“Thanks for the help blue eyes, I owe you one.” A wink and crimson flushing his cheeks, you rolled the window up and sped out of the area in a hurry.

Perhaps you would come to regret such a promise one day, but for now you would dream of those hypnotizing blue eyes and the angel they belonged to.

Tags: @qtmeryr @broken-hearted-barnes @asphalt-cocktail @gstran18

#supernatural #cw #castiel #cas #castiel x reader #cas x reader #match ems #spn #witch reader

33 notes · View notes

iamfitzwilliamdarcy · 4 years

Text

Title: His Father’s Heart

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne (some), and OCs

Summary: A priest must have a father's heart, and Fr. Todd has had a good example. Or, the one in which Jason is a priest and starts a school. (a03)

Note: -shows up 4 months late with Starbucks and too many epigraphs- Happy (extremely belated) birthday to @catie-does-things!!! I finally finished this fic and have 9 pages of a google doc to give you <3 We discussed this once and then I just Ran with it (this fic is also how i learned there is no midnight Angelus???)

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their affliction....

-James 1:27

“Without confidence and love, there can be no true education. If you want to be loved…you must love yourselves, and make your children feel that you love them.”

“The school was not the end; it was rather the instrumental means for improving the way of life.”

-St. John Bosco

The school that never was supposed to be started with three boys.

Many would say it was Fr. Todd, who worked tirelessly for the crime, addiction, poverty ravished community he served. But Fr. Todd knew, and he knew God knew as well.

The school started with three boys, huddling behind the dumpster in the alley adjacent to St. Maria Goretti Catholic Church.

It was, when Fr. Todd reflected on it, the Hand of God, pushing them where they needed to be, beyond where they thought they ought to be. He was, after all, a diocosean priest, not of a teaching order, and kept plenty busy by the daily happenings of parish life. He had no room in his life for a school.

He was, though, also very much his father’s son.

And his father was not the kind of man to leave three, shivering boys in an alley because he was busy. Neither was the Lord, Jason reminded himself, who was in the least of these.

So he squatted down beside them, enough of a distance they didn’t feel cornered but close enough that he was a presence. And said, “Good evening.”

They were clearly brothers, with the same almond eyes and thick black hair. Even the one whose was curly fit in the set. Hunger made their faces gaunt, but beneath it, if one knew how to look, one could see the same jawline, the same off center nose.

The oldest one shifted to be in front of his brothers, glaring at Fr. Todd. “Go ‘way,” he said. “I know what you collar people do my momma told me and I say go way.”

Fr. Todd frowned, but kept his face and voice soft. “I promise,” he said. “I’m not here to hurt you. My momma warned me about dangerous men too.”

The boy continued to glare, not convinced. “I have food,” Fr. Todd offered, and the younger boys shifted behind him. Even the oldest betrayed himself with longing in his eyes, though he quickly masked it. “And a warm bed.”

The little ones were sold, but the oldest was smarter. He clearly wanted the food and the bed, but he didn’t trust a stranger.

Smart enough, Jason thought. He himself hadn’t trusted Batman when they’d first met.

Better the evil you know, right?

Jason rocked back on his heels, thinking. “Stay here,” he told them. “I’ll be right back.”

He got up and quickly returned to the rectory. He called the Bishop, waking him up in the middle of the night. Jason, who had requested the exorcist more than any priest in the entire state, had earned that privilege.

“Almost time for the Angelus,” he said cheerfully, before the bishop warned him about the optics of three boys staying in a priest’s rectory, then added a small lesson of what the Lord would do, contrary to the optics.

He made a few sandwiches, snagged a couple of water bottles, dumped Fr. Dominic’s hot chocolate from the stove into a thermos, grabbed a blanket, pocketed his cellphone, and made his way back to the alley.

He sat down, cross-legged, still enough distance the boys didn’t feel trapped. “Here’s the deal,” he said, handing out the sandwiches; the oldest boy didn’t stop the younger ones, but he still eyed the bread and meat in his hand like it was poisoned. “You can let me help you or I’m going to have to call someone else who can.

“The cops?” asked the littlest one, and Jason nodded. “I can’t leave you out here. It’s going to drop below freezing tonight. I have a contact with GCPD, but I won’t lie to you, if we go that route, likely you’ll end up in a group home and the foster system, if they can’t find your mom or she isn’t able to take care of you.”

“She’s dead,” the oldest said abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. He knew what that was like, to find your mother dead, to have nobody else. After a pause, he added, “When my mom died, my adopted father caught me stealing the hubcaps off his car.”

The middle one laughed a little and Jason smiled at him. “It was pretty scary, but he turned out to be a good man. He’ll help you, too, if you let him.”

“We don’t need help,” the oldest boy asserted. The sandwich seemed to give him strength and he glowered at Jason again. “I told you.”

“That’s not one of the choices,” Jason said.

“Who’s your dad?” the middle one piped up.

The older boy threw him a dirty look, but Jason answered, “Bruce Wayne.”

The little one leaned forward, eyes wide, and whispered, “He knows Batman.”

Jason whispered conspiratorially back, “So do I.”

That, more than anything, sold the younger two. Even the older, still wary, agreed to come back to the rectory with him.

Fr. Dominic was awake, grading papers at the table. He eyed the three small boys, smiled, and said, “I was so sure my hot chocolate went to a good cause and looks like I was right. Who do we have here?”

The oldest boy gave his younger brother’s a stern look, one that looked out of place on his young face, but they ignored him. The littlest piped up that his name was Joey and Liam was the middle and his biggest brother was Tucker. Dominic shook each of their hands solemnly, even Tucker’s, and then let Jason slip away to make a phone call.

Dominic was still awake when Bruce Wayne showed up in Lululemon joggers and a henley at the rectory and deposited a sleeping nephew into Jason’s arms.

“Since I’m a good Catholic and all,” Dominic said, “I won’t say there are too many kids. Just seems like a lot for a rectory at 1am.”

“We’re night people,” Jason said apologetically, raising his eyebrows at Bruce.

“Dick’s sick,” Bruce explained as Johnny snuggled his head into the crook of Jason’s shoulder. “And Barbara’s out of town. I couldn’t get out of the Mansion without this one tagging along.”

He held up a bag and said, “It should be enough clothes for a couple of days. I swung through the store and got some toothbrushes too.”

“You’re a blessing,” Jason said, stepping back to let Bruce in.

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement. Then muttered something about needing a throat blessing before he caught whatever illness Dick had come down with. It was, apparently, hitting him hard.

“St. Blaise’s Feast Day isn’t for a few months, but I think I know a guy who could hook you up,” Jason teased, shutting the door and following him towards the kitchen.

Dominic had gone ahead of them, and his grading had turned into discussing the religion test questions with the younger two boys while their brother watched from his place leaned against the counter.

Tucker eyed Jason and Bruce as they came into the room, and Tommy in Jason’s arms. “Who’s that?” he demanded.

“Nephew,” Jason told him. Jerked his head at Bruce as an introduction, but Bruce beat him to it, holding out a large hand and saying “Bruce Wayne.”

Tucker did not shake it, eyeing Bruce suspiciously. As Bruce dropped his hand, the kid said, abruptly, “My momma used to work for you. ‘Fore she got sick.”

It was the most he’d said after telling Jason to go away, and it was the type of thing Bruce would take personally.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help her,” Bruce said after a moment. “I would like to help you now.”

When the boy didn’t answer, Jason gestured to the bag and said, “Bruce brought some clothes for you to change into after you clean up. You can take my room for the night, the bathroom’s attached.”

Tucker eyed them like he was waiting for the catch, but when none came, he abruptly moved away from the counter to usher Liam away from Dominic and snatch up Joey’s hand. He glared at the adults as he shut the door to Jason’s room behind them, as if daring any of them to try anything.

“You were that defensive,” Bruce reminded him quietly, so that Dominic couldn’t hear. “When we first met.”

Jason knew. He’d been cocky and brash, but it had never really covered up the fact that he’d been a distrustful 11 year old who didn’t really know how to look out for himself.

“I got ahold of Jim,” Bruce continued, louder. “Said he’d send a social worker in the morning but odds were in my favor of being able to foster while they sort it out.”

“Gordon can’t decide that,” Jason muttered, with a head shake, but the way Gotham rolled, the commissioner did have a lot of influence.

“Do you need me to stay?” Bruce asked. He glanced at Dominic, then took a step forward and settled his hand on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason smiled at him. “I think I can survive on a couch for one night.”

“He slept on a cafeteria floor at last year’s high school retreat,” Dominic piped up.

“Kid forgot his sleeping bag,” Jason said with a shrug, shifting his nephew’s weight. Johnny had crashed since getting here and was dead weight in Jason’s arms, drooling slightly on his shoulder.

Jason caught Bruce’s eye, who smiled a little. They both knew Jason had slept on harder than a cafeteria floor before.

“I’ll come back in the morning,” Bruce said.

Jason raised his eyebrows higher. “For Mass,” Bruce agreed. He paused, and added, “Alfred will send food I’m sure.”

“Yes,” Dominic cheered quietly, raising a hand in victory.

He rose to lay his hands on Bruce and Johnny with Jason, to offer them a blessing before they left.

“You know,” Dominic said thoughtfully, after they were gone, watching the closed door of Jason’s room, behind which the shower was still running, “those kids are smart. Think Bruce would enroll them at St. Xavier?”

Jason frowned. “It’s far from Wayne Manor. He’d do it, but I don’t know how the kids would like that commute.”

“Far from here too,” Dominic agreed. He yawned and stretched as if to prove his point. “Speaking of, I should get some sleep. Take my bed, I’ll take the couch.”

But Jason shook his head. “I want them to be able to find me if they need to.”

***************

It took a long time for the boys to settle in with Bruce as a foster; the younger two settled better They’d had to switch out of their public schools because they were not districted there anymore. They hadn’t been to school in a while anyway, Jason gathered.

There was plenty of catching up for them to do, Dominic somehow found time to tutor them in between his own papers and gradings and other priestly duties.

The boys, like the rest of Jason’s family, became a semi-permanent fixture at the rectory.

***************

That was how it started. There was Dominic’s numerous mentions of St. Xavier being too far away, of the boys’ intelligence, the need for a more individualized approach that private school would afford.

There was the lady at the parish who sobbed to Fr. Todd one morning that she could not afford Catholic school and her district was not a good place for her children--no education, she said, just violence. She was scared they’d join a gang or start using drugs. St. Xaxier had scholarships to offer, but it wasn’t enough, and she had no way of getting her kids to school so far away.

“St. Maria Goretti parish has always been in the thick of the throes of poverty,” Fr. Paul, the pastor, had said gravely when Jason had mentioned it to him later.

There was the altar boy who tarried too long at the church after Mass, following Fr. Todd like a duckling, asking theological questions. He never wanted to go home and sometimes sat on the church steps doing math homework until Jason let him inside to pray.

There was the 17-year-old drug dealer Officer Grayson picked up off the streets; Dick got him set up with a WE program but conditionally that he stop dealing and earn a high school degree, but going back to high school hadn’t put him in the best environment, and he was dealing again within the year.

There was child after child, and family after family, who needed something more.

***************

Cardinal Tolan was the one who first brought up the school. Fr. Paul was retiring, and Jason appointed pastor in his leave.

“The Nashville Dominican sisters are looking in this area to open a school,” the cardinal said. “I think maybe St. Maria Goretti parish could be benefited by that.”

Jason nodded. “A boys school,” he said, as way of agreement. “We’ll need one for the girls as well. The Sisters will know what to do.”

“We have a donor,” Cardinal Tolan added, thoughtfully. “I’m sure he has enough for two.”

“And boarding,” Jason said, thinking hard. “We’ll need housing for some of them. Students need to feel like it’s home.”

Cardinal Tolan looked at him a long time, then said, “Truly, you have a heart after the Father’s.”

“I had a good example,” Jason replied, flushing a little.

***************

It was another two years before the school was built. The sisters moved in, Fr. Todd was appointed chaplain, and the first year saw only 15 students from 9-12th grade, Tucker among them.

He’d been the most resistant to Bruce and Fr. Todd over the years, though Jason accepted that he loved as best he could. His brothers adored them, more than Jason anticipated. They’d become altar boys at St. Maria Goretti’s as soon as they’d been able, and had cried when CPS had finally tracked down an aunt nearby to take them in.

They stayed in contact throughout the years. They continued in their service as altar boys, and had dinner at least twice a month with Bruce. Jason usually joined, when obligations allowed him.

When the school opened, their aunt enrolled Tucker, the only one high school aged, right away. Full scholarship, she’d told a bewildered Jason, who knew the diocese hadn’t been able to set up any scholarships yet.

Leave it to Bruce, he thought ruefully.

***************

By the time the schools were ready to open younger grades, Joey and Liam were ready for high school, and they joined Tucker, now a senior, at Maria Goretti’s. The younger ones were still rambunctious, but Tucker had grown into a rather solemn young man. He frequently did his homework at Jason’s kitchen table, mouthing quietly to himself or asking Fr. Dominic to read over his papers, while the younger boys played sports or just waited for their aunt to be off work and pick them up.

He graduated salutatorian with a full ride to Catholic University in DC.

Jason, handing out diplomas at his graduation while the school secretary announced names, didn’t cry a bit when Tucker shook his hand, and then leaned in to whisper, “thank you.”

He did look out and find Bruce, caught his gaze, and smile.

Bruce understood.

***************

Two years later and new Masters degree to join the one he already had, Fr. Todd was appointed principal and chaplain of the school. He’d been involved from the start, as the parish pastor, but now he took even more responsibility.

“Should’ve been a Salesian,” the cardinal teased, when he told Jason.

Fr. Todd laughed and shook his head, “Maybe a Domican at that. But God saw fit to use a simple parish priest.”

***************

Four years later, Tucker sat in his rectory, a month out from his college graduation.

Bruce had been over for dinner but Tucker declined a ride home to his aunt’s. There had been something on his mind all night, Jason knew. He’d danced around the issue of a post-graduate career, awkwardly steered the conversation away from a Wayne Enterprise job waiting for him as soon as he said the word.

It wasn’t until Bruce left, after exchanging a significant look with Jason, and Jason had poured them a rather heavy nightcap, that Tucker blurted out, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, “Will you wrote me a recommendation for seminary?”

Fr. Todd lowered his glass and blinked at the boy in front of him. Now 22, Jason could still see the small defiant, malnourished boy that had huddled in his alleyway. Something like pride and warmth rose up in his chest. Had this been how Bruce felt, all those years ago, when Jason himself had given up the red hood for a white collar?

After a long pause, Fr. Todd managed, “For here or for Mount St. Mary’s?”

Tucker looked up, surprised. “Here,” he said firmly. And still too much of a hooligan, finished what could have stayed unspoken, “obviously.”

Jason said, “Of course.”

He took a sip of his scotch, suddenly feeling the prick of tears at his eyes, and looking at the young man before him, remembered a little boy hiding behind a dumpster on a cold winter night, and then a little boy stealing hubcaps off the Batmobile, and then man God had sent him to save his life.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #Fr. Todd AU #fanfic tag #my fic #batfam #katie's adventures in writing

16 notes · View notes

yourkeeperoftherunners · 6 years

Text

Novice [1]

Plot: AU Your neighbor summoned a demon for a good time, except he somehow overshot things and landed in your apartment. (Despite the lack of a pentagram.) He keeps showing up and oddly, he makes it a point to stop by after he’s done with her.

Rating: PG-13 (Language, implied sex, incubus mythology)

Characters: Incubus!Jungkook x Older Female Reader, Riley OC, plus mention of other members.

Notes: I am not an expert on demonology. This was based off a comical dream I had about someone accidentally ending up in my apartment when in reality they were looking for someone else. (The figure in the dream wasn’t a demon per se but a rookie individual that wasn’t human who appeared in places without using the front door.) Eventually there will be a take on this plot with RM as the incubus – it will be a different universe from this one.

Please no reposting anywhere!

[2]

“HOLD THE ELEVATOR!”

You blinked as you looked up from checking your phone, pressing the button to hold the elevator doors open for whoever yelled. Once you saw the familiar face come into view, you were wishing you let them close on her.

“Fuck these are heavy!” your neighbor whined as she slipped in. She dumped the books onto the floor and rubbed her arms as the doors closed.

You snuck a peek at the book titles and frowned when you saw the subject matter. Now, you had planned to take this as a silent elevator trip up without any verbal exchange between you and your neighbor Riley, but the books piqued your interest.

“I didn’t know you were into demons and angels,” you offered.

Riley tore her gaze from the floor and nodded as she stacked the books neatly by her feet. A quick glance at her face told you that she must have finally stopped sobbing over her dumb ex. You didn’t know her very well or her ex, but when they broke up, the whole building seemed to know in one way or another. Perhaps you were being heartless, but you really thought the girl needed to grow up and refine her taste in partners. You had a gut feeling that the last boyfriend was into drugs or the mafia, judging on his appearance and how secretive he was with his phone.

“Have you seen how hot some of the demons are?” she asked. “I mean, no wonder they’re luring us with promises and deals! Hell, I’d fuck a group of them if I could!”

You only nodded, trying to keep your face neutral. You wished the elevator would go faster already – all you wanted was to cook dinner, take a shower, and relax. When the elevator made the ding sound, alerting you that you made it, you pressed the open button and held it open for Riley to haul her books out.

She collected them and walked out of the elevator without a thank you. You exited a few steps after her, rolling your eyes. Parent of Year Award to her folks for raising this hot mess of a young adult with no manners!

“Dating apps are so last year, so I was thinking, how can I get back into the game?” she babbled.

You muttered some kind of fake polite thing before grabbing your keys and inserting it into the door. You raised a hand to bid her goodnight, slamming the door shut before she could ramble more nonsense.

“Demons?! Is she okay? Does she need a counselor?!”

“She’s young and dumb Jin,” you grumbled as you tossed in some spices for your pasta sauce.

“Or maybe she’s possessed,” he shuddered on the other end. “That does it, I’m bringing a cross next time I visit you! She’s lost her mind!”

“Fine, bring your cross,” you sighed. “Jin, forget her. She’s a stupid brat who didn’t learn that romances will burn out if you don’t compromise with your partner. Not to mention she has no class – you should have seen how she walks past me with her old ritual books without a simple ‘Thanks’ cause I held the door. That’s the last time I ever hold the elevator for her.”

“I don’t know Y/N,” Jin murmured. “You’re not scared she’ll end up like that little girl in The Exorcist?”

“It’s not going to work whatever she’s planning,” you said. You paused when the lights overhead began to flicker and you turned off the stove.

The lights went from bright to a faint glow, then back to bright for a few times. Then everything went dark, which made you groan as you fumbled around for the emergency flashlight in your drawer.

“What was that?” Jin asked.

“Power outage,” you grumbled as you switched the light on. “It’s probably some idiot hitting the generator by accident – it happened a few weeks ago.”

You waited a few seconds before hearing the generator kick back in and your lights were restored in your apartment. “Yeah they just came back on. Hey, I need to go – gotta get the pasta going.”

“Okay, but just be safe,” Jin begged.

You hung up and turned the stove back on, placing a pot of water onto one of the burners. You put your phone down and leaned back against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.

You heard something that sounded like a poof and frowned as you strained your ears. At first you were prepared to dismiss it as nothing – probably the building showing its age. Then you heard a male voice murmuring something in a language you didn’t understand.

You straightened your shoulders, opened the closet near the entrance hall, and reached for the staff from your Halloween Rey costume, prepared to defend yourself. Unless your alarm went off thanks to the power outage, it sounded like someone was in your room.

You approached your door, pushing it open and the staff raised high. The light beside your nightstand was on, set to the dimmest setting. The lamp cast a soft light on the young man sprawled on your bed, making his flawless skin glow.

His eyes widened when he saw you in the doorway and his lips parted.

“…Whoa, you’re definitely not what I expected…I mean, wow!”

“Who are you exactly?” you demanded as you gripped the staff in your hands. “How did you get in here?”

The male pushed himself to a sitting position on your bed, tilting his head in amusement. His eyes fell on the staff and you noticed his eyes were an unusual shade of amber brown. “Are we roleplaying Riley-noona? I thought you summoned a demon for a good time.”

You raised a brow and began lowering the staff. Noona? What the heck?

“Um I don’t know what kind of dope you’re smoking, but I’m Y/N. If you’re looking for Riley, she’s a few doors down from me. By the way kid, you didn’t answer my question of how you got in here.”

His eyes widened and he looked around your room, before meeting your eyes. “You’re not…? Oh um, I guess, I guess that explains why there’s no pentagram on the floor?”

The bottom of the staff tapped the floor and you stared dumbfounded. Pentagram? Then you remembered Riley’s armful of weirdo books she had been lugging and it hit you.

Unbelievable, you thought. That little snowflake actually managed to get her psycho summoning crap to work! But why the Hell did he end up...?

Remembering the incubus asked you a question, you nodded and he winced, standing up and bowing his head in apology. The sheepish reaction and politeness threw you off – was this guy really an incubus? He struck you as being too polite, almost too innocent to be one. But Riley hadn’t been far off with saying that demons were capable of looking beautiful or innocent to lure in their victims.

You heard him mumble sorry to the floor and you dismissed it with a shrug of your shoulders. You propped the staff up against the adjacent wall and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well you’re in the right vicinity – I’ll show you where she lives,” you sighed as you motioned for him to follow you. “We look nothing alike by the way – you’ll see that soon. She’s probably waiting for you to screw her brains out. Think she said something about a bad break-up?”

The incubus blew out a breath of air at that comment and shook his head. “That’s sad. I’m sorry I messed up, but thanks – I’ll leave you be Y/N.”

You held the door open for him and shrugged. “Don’t mention it. Question though, are you new to this whole summoning thing? Cause most of the time the others are spot on with their arrivals, or at least that’s what I’ve heard in theory.”

“Don’t say that out loud!” the incubus whined, jutting his lower lip out. “Okay, yeah this is a big one for me, but it’s a fluke! Everyone screws up the first time, right?”

“Sure kid,” you mumbled.

He pouted at the nickname and protested, “Hey, I’m not a kid! I’m 21 and my name is Jungkook!”

“Sorry Jungkook,” you replied. “Habit I guess, it happens when you get older.”

“Oh you’re older? How old?”

“Older than 21 that’s for damn sure,” you sighed. Your stomach growled and your patience was wearing thin. All you wanted to do was eat and never see this punk again. You were grateful you were further down the hall from Riley and didn’t have to suffer listening to her scream.

You began to close your door, leaving it open a crack for your arm. You gestured down the hall, noting that Riley was a few doors down.

The incubus stared at the door you pointed out and bowed, murmuring his thanks to you.

“Don’t mention it kid,” you muttered as you slammed the door shut.

#BTS Jungkook #BTS Jungkook AU #BTS AU #BTS incubus AU #incubus AU #tw: incubus #tw: implied sex #BTS Jin #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2536

103 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 6 years

Note

Omg I love your writing style so much ❤️ It always hits in the right places 😏 As I see you have requests open may I ask for historical AU with Taehyung being a nobleman son and his and reader's wedding night when they never (or barely) saw each other before a wedding? You know they don't know each other but they have to do it 😩 If you don't feel like writing this anything else with Tae will be fine with me 😉

My Word To Treat You Well [M]

length | 3.5kgenre | angst, soft smut, enemies to lovers, fluffy endnote | The other members are side & main characters!warnings | bullying, homophobia, child abuse, evil kings… doing evil things

Appalling. Twenty or more people would offer you a hundred bucks to know whether Prince Taehyung was good in bed or not.

Probably to sell the juicy secret to The Daegu Herald or Gyeongsang Sentinel for twice the money. You’d get extra pay for revealing what he was into. Meanwhile, you yourself wondered about that. The cash went past your gloved hands under mid-July’s oppressive evening heat, waiting for the crowds to disperse with your relatives departing, too. The tedious diplomatic talks, over-the-top banquets, shrill music, and painful dances were over. Familiar stars shed soft lights on the rattling carriages that headed north from the Kim Palace. That was the only thing good about this day. It was hard knowing Ilsan was so far away. You mother, widowed Queen Choi, had left you with a plea to all the strength you possibly have. And she must know how it is.

You were looking forward to throwing your heeled shoes into the palace pond, not fucking the Crown Prince. He had been acting arrogant with his friends all day, tripping waiters. In fact, you thought he was Daegu’s number one blockhead. Next to his unruly partner in crime: Yoongi from the local Min family. He loved to harass and mock the elderly guests while Taehyung laughed along. The Min clan wears their blue emblem with such a toxic haughtiness, even Prince “Phony” Jimin of Busan wouldn’t compare. Thankfully, the latter had remained absent today and didn’t make things worse. Because that Min guy was already prickly, a textbook bad influence to Taehyung. The kiss in front of the altar had been enjoyable, that was true. He didn’t smell, he didn’t use tongue or teeth, he kept it short and smiled courteously. The Prince was attractive and well-dressed, sure. That was good enough down the aisle. He wouldn’t start too many dances either. But Kim had soaked up the aristocratic mannerism so much, at the ball it felt like he wanted to own this place. Which he didn’t. Namjoon was still the one in charge in both this province and the palace. It seemed like the Kim patriarch’s iron rule had raised a glaring thorn in his crown. And you had to deal with him now: In bed. It’s a cruel world.

Prince Taehyung comes waddling along the marble corridor with relative unease. He seems aimless, maybe drunk. Prince Prick is not with him. They had been glued together the entire day, more than you were supposed to spend time with Taehyung instead. On the one hand, protocol breach would cause atrocious chatter. On the other hand, having Taehyung off the hem of your hanbok frankly was congenial. Maybe Yoongi was quite a convenient figure on this chess board. You’d keep that in mind. Waiting for Taehyung to arrive was awkward enough. But as he just stood there blank-faced like a statue for a solid minute, you took the liberty to just drag him to your chamber by the lapel. What a huge moron. He lands on the canopy bed quite frightened, but it leaves you cold. “Let’s just get it over with,” you tower at the lower end of the bed, “you whip your cock out, shove it in three times, dump your jizz so Daegu gets an heir, and we’ll go to bed. Me, I’ll just pretend I’m dead.”

Taehyung looks even more flabbergasted. You don’t know if it was the language or the directness. Probably both. You let yourself fall right next to him, kicking off the nasty restrictive shoes. The chambermaids had at least managed to remove your bride headpiece and the ridiculous, scratchy ceremonial wig. It was one of the major reasons why you hated marrying in summer. They also fidgeted at your head to wipe off the goo that was supposed to be face paint before you snapped and sent them away. They should enjoy the evening and not bother with your oh-so costly attire that was only designed to trouble you anyways. It didn’t even look as beautiful and regal as what Taehyung had worn. He was all the rage while people slandered you the second you were out of sight as your mother had remarked. It was just important that he was married. It preserved the patrilineage and elevated his status, not you as the wife and new member of the family. The future Queen of Daegu, in fact. But they didn’t seem to respect that.

That way, they had “decorated” you. Criticizing all sorts of things about your appearance. Nobody in Ilsan had bothered, thought something was not right or good-looking. Nor did you. Queen Choi had insisted beauty was not a female ruler’s most important asset. It was power, plain and simple. That is what rulership is about. She warned you that the house of Kim had more double standards. You yourself didn’t think making a Princess less confident and secure in herself was particularly benevolent. Nose too long, hands too broad, voice too loud, height too tall, hair too coarse, eyes to narrow, skin too tan, hips not wide enough for having kids? All they wanted was a weak, pregnant fairy glued to Taehyung’s side by day. And a mute fuckdoll to keep his dick wet by night. You weren’t wrong saying you would play dead. That is how passive they wanted you to be here. And as anxious and self-conscious as possible, that no deeper thought about this rotten palace would ever cross your mind. “My ears are too ugly for me to have authority!” thought no king ever.

You undress ripping away the satin, pearls, embroidered sticks, emeralds, ribbons. All the layers of hanbok have to go. They land on the floor while Taehyung remains dumbfounded. Once the work is done, you’re in the underwear that’s been itching and sweaty all day. You lift the blanket, then roll your eyes at the Prince. “I’m kidding. Move, I want to sleep. Everything hurts.” You’re about to blow out the candle on your nightstand that Taehyung finds his words. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I had hoped you had fun with us today.” He looks depressed now. “It’s arranged, this is not cloud nine,” you reply, “Good night, I don’t need your fake concerns.” Taehyung jumps up from the bed. “At least put on something comfortable, Princess,” he points to the showy wardrobe left to the entrance. “You just wanna see me naked to jack off while I sleep,” you growl, pulling the blanket tight over your chest. Taehyung rummages in the wardrobe, then tosses over a plain, long nightshirt. “I’ll go to the other chamber until you open.”

And indeed, he slips into the adjacent dressing room and closes the door shut. He turns the key, flicks it into your boudoir underneath the door. You quickly change into the green gown in a dark corner. It’s light and cooling. You tiptoe across the room and yank open the door after you unlocked, suspecting to catch Taehyung while he eavesdrops or looks through the keyhole. But no, he’s sitting at the window in a chair watching the night sky, startled at the vehement entrance. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he whines, pale and daunted in the moonlight. “Nothing,” you snarl and return to bed. He just follows reluctantly. Where did insolent Prince Taehyung go? It has to be another joke or farce. He had entertained everyone with offensive shenanigans all day.

You curl yourself together at the farthest possible point from him as he comes to lay down. Soon, some of his warmth sneaks across underneath the blanket. Disgusting. The topmost dipshit of Daegu is in the same bed as you. That alone makes you want to puke. On Namjoon’s throne, at best. He raised the scum. For a while, everything remains silent. But the heat, moonlight, and his breath won’t let you sleep, let alone his mere presence. Who knows what he does to you when you don’t pay attention any longer. You would be glad to pass the night without getting groped at least once. After what felt like hours, you just wind back and forth. At some point, you accidentally ram him hard in the flank with your elbow. The following whimper sounds so horrifying that you jolt up in a cold sweat. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” he trembles, holding his ribs in pain. Serves him right. “I didn’t want this either. He beats me already. Please don’t hurt me, please!” He’s almost bawling. You’re quite impressed by these acting skills. “Calm it Kim, I was just trying to turn around. Can’t sleep, thank you very much.” - “Me either… I’m very sorry!” Now you bellow at him. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry all the time. Are you no longer mean or what?” Taehyung looks like he might as well wet himself any second. The guards might have heard, but you’d be happy to get thrown into a cold jail cell. “Y/N, if I’m not acting like that I’ll get hit,” he answers, pulling down the impossibly high neckline of his gown.

Oh.

Fuck.

Green and blue marks — everywhere. One above the solar plexus looks new. Taehyung notices you staring at it. “He did it so I would promise to be tough with you tonight,” he says, covering his chest once the shame becomes too unbearable. “It’s really all an act?” - “It’s how everyone here does it, it’s normal. But we shouldn’t speak about it…” - “And Yoongi? Jimin?” - “They’re not like that when we’re alone,” he affirms, “it’s all to play along. Jimin got shoved down the stairs by his dad last week. He broke his leg just because he refused to marry an unknown woman. Yoongi’s dad threatened to do the same. All three of us have to marry this year, it’s protocol. Jimin got denied medical attention by King Park. That’s why he’s not here.”

Now you get why Taehyung showed up dizzy and shut down after you grabbed at his suit. The dressing room reaction was similar. He’s not drunk, or anything like that. The King just gave him a heavy disciplining minutes before he appeared in the corridor. And Jimin — there’s no way the life of the party would stay at home without something this severe going on. It’s Prince Taehyung’s wedding, after all, the event of the year. They really pushed him down the stairs. You can’t believe it. He could be dead by now. The southern royals are as fucked up as you suspected, just in a way that’s… ten times worse than you’ve seen at the ball.

There’s a legitimate reason as to why you thought they were all completely unlike themselves. It really is a tragedy behind the scenes. You enclose Taehyung in a caring hug while he’s crying his eyes out, your nightgown soaking it all up. “I have to apologize, too,” you soothe while he hangs feebly in your embrace. The tears slowly disappear after you’re petting his hair, mumbling excuses. His body feels slack and empty. You suggest going outside to visit the small palace garden. Walking through the solemn corridors barefoot, hands intertwined, it feels much closer to how you wished your day should have been like. The guards at the main gate appear quite surprised to see you walk around at such a late time. But both stand tall with a nod and the obligatory congratulations as you state the destination. Taehyung hides his swollen eyes behind his bangs as you inform them. They let you pass without resistance.

You seat your husband on the edge of the central fountain. The surrounding roses, hydrangea, and dahlia flower beds emit a tranquilizing haze, along with the bubbling water and warm summer breeze. Your throbbing headache says goodbye. Walking on the tingly grass is a welcome relief, too. There are no clouds above you, the sky is lucid. The Prince looks up sighing deeply. “Taehyung, you like the stars, too?” He nods. You point out your favorite constellations to each other. Boötes, Virgo, Scorpius. Cassiopeia, too, she’s among the easiest to spot. Taeyhung looks handsome and frail in the tender moonshine. He’s really a beautiful man, rivaling the stars. Or complementing them. You pluck a cream white rose for him to hold, and he is careful with the thorns. “That’s for scaring you.” You pick another, coral red. “For the elbow accident.” A third one is bright orange and yellow. “To heal your chest.” You lean close to his face for the fourth flower – your mouth brushing over the bridge of his nose, then uniting your lips. “And this, Prince Kim, is my word to treat you well.”

Back in bed, you’ve cast away the heavy blanket and gowns. The clear moonlight has come to serve as an advantage now. Taehyung’s head is buried between your legs, tongue curling up and down gently. His large hands cup at your hips with fondness. You’re mindful not to put pressure on his upper body while you’re above him, facing his feet. His chest looks times worse than what you’ve seen when he first showed it. There are thin scars on his legs, too. You hope that every kiss mends them just a little bit, even if it’s just inside his heart. Taehyung tastes balmy and mellow when you circle your tongue around his length. It’s fun to plant your lips on his tip to sink down swaying right and left with your head, feeling his serpentine veins brush past the corners of your mouth. That’s a dick you’ll keep wet three times a day when the mood is right. He’s magnificent, better than all the savory cakes from the buffet. You regret having rejected a bath in your imperious fury earlier, now feeling ready to earn the title: Most obnoxious and smelling Crown Princess that the kingdom has ever seen. But Taehyung doesn’t care one bit, indulging you with graceful little flicks and dips at your clit. It’s so amazing. Maybe you’re not as malodorous and unbearable as you think. Because you’re comparing yourself to the sky-high golden standards of Taehyung. Which is probably what Namjoon’s mind control aims for. Then you will indeed think you’re just a meaningless fairy puppet by sheer comparison. That, you realize, is something to cast away. Taehyung is Taehyung, a wonderful delicate person and spouse. You are you. Queen Choi’s most unyielding daughter, to-be sovereign among her ranks of power, and impending defender of the Prince to install justice. Namjoon will pay for every mark he left.

After sunrise, you already have to confront a perverse mob of “two hundred bucks? three hundred bucks?” fanatics led by chief servant Hoseok. You command them to rather spend the money on sending Prince Park a proper doctor. They swallow the bait, pester for details. You know better not to get hanged for treason on your first day as Princess of Daegu. Instead, you send them off with a trusted contact’s name at Park Palace, knowing they will not stop until they discover the truth. If they can expose the secret on their own, they’ll think they’ve invented it. And then comes the craving for big money, and more investigation. Especially the Daegu Herald is predictable in that regard. You hope the story blows up. Someone has to take care of Jimin. Maybe you should send a letter.

The throne room is the next obstacle. You’re glad there was no breakfast yet so you are maximum ill-tempered. A heavily bearded King thrones golden at the very end, and almost loses his crown when you enter without bowing, still in your plain dress. But he catches himself – back to the fake smile, fake words, fake posture. “Ah, this is what I call a regal sense of duty. A good early morning!” he says jovially. His own father must have slapped him into this demeanor. They’re all despicable. This is the generation where it ends. “The whole palace talks about your tryst. Everyone is impressed by the Rose Prince! Truly a man. Making such romantic gestures.” You’re angry that someone watched and couldn’t keep it to themselves. But then again, the palace harbored many guests tonight that had been equally restless and curious. The garden is public anyways, and visible through many windows. But it seems like everybody had twisted the story around and pretends you’re not even part of it. “I’m not here to talk about that. I have a request, actually.” - “Oh sure Princess, go ahead?” Namjoon falls somber now. “I’m not happy with this situation,” you furrow your brow. “Just like I expected it to be,” he huffs into his beard, “Well, we can always nullify the marriage after a certain time. But that needs a special legal procedure and at least two produced infant heirs. I advise you to wait anyways. Taehyung will become a good man for you even if you don’t like him now.” This place is truly hell. Produce an infant heir. King Namjoon has lost his mind. You fortify your stance before the throne. “I wouldn’t divorce because of Taehyung. I would divorce because of you. I’ll take him back with me to Ilsan.”

“Because of me? You wouldn’t dare. I have organized the best wedding of the last fifty years. Kim Seokjin is not ready to become the Crown Prince yet! Taehyung is the heir. You have to be his Princess. The alliance with house Choi is important for trade, too.” - “All the reasons to leave. Without heirs. Just with Taehyung. From your words, I can tell he’s not as important to you as the lineage and your reputation. Nor am I.” The King looks like he is about to combust. He can’t hurt you. Taehyung needs kids and Daegu resources. “Choi, what do you want?” he bursts out, hammering his staff on the ground. “Stop beating Taehyung. And don’t treat me as secondary. That’s all I ask for.” - “But this is protocol!” - “Then why do you keep it hidden when it’s all fine and necessary?” There it is. The King is gritting his teeth hard. Who would have known the doll bride would have this much leverage. “I’ve sent a giant horde to Park Palace. If you don’t put King Park and King Min in their place and abolish the protocol, they will. If my mother comes to know about it, Ilsan and the Northern Kingdom ban trading gold, silver, spice, and silk. Say goodbye to your dynasty and alliances.” - “You’re lying…” - “Then wait and see. It’s the truth. The crowd just left. Jung Hoseok called in sick today, didn’t he? Guess why.” - “Stop, stop the crowd! We’ll revise the protocol all you want, just stop the crowd!”

For five hundred bucks, Hoseok gets an in-depth story about the ‘Rose Princess’ garden tryst. With a lot of embellishments and inexplicable plot holes, but still immensely detailed. Two days after, even the notoriously stuck-up Gyeongsang Sentinel readers send you presents after Hoseok sold them the story for a fortune. The five hundred bucks you spend for the messenger on horseback who had raced to the neighbor province, calling back the wild mob headed to Busan. Instead of you having to write a letter, Crown Prince Jimin sends you one instead. His leg has received treatment by the kingdom’s most expensive doctor. His father begrudgingly appointed him. Jimin is delighted to marry his lover in October – the beloved childhood friend and son of Busan’s Grand Duchess, Jungkook. An adoption is already on its way. The public is nowhere near as enraged as Jimin’s father had dreaded. Jungkook is very popular for good looks and charm and already well-known as Jimin’s second half. Queen Park appears to be very excited, too, especially since lifting the protocol has impacted her beneficially.

You’ll have to live with the fact that King Namjoon cares about grandchildren more than Taehyung’s less “tough” side or, well, you. That you hope will change with time. But he busies himself with Seokjin instead of you where his prospects fall on fertile ground, and Queen Kim keeps an eye on it. At least he is happy that Jimin’s marriage does take place and has decided for the family to travel to Busan in late September. Taehyung has developed a habit of walking in the park with you often in the meantime. Also, you meet with the citizens on the farmer’s market by horse. Huge masses of people gather to see and talk to you. Namjoon had security concerns and sent fifteen high-strung guards along. But Taehyung allowed them to stroll on the market (you called it “patrol”, tongue in cheek), keeping only the four that seemed not exhausted from being constantly yelled at by the King. It was about time anybody left the dusty walls of the palace. Many had only seen you in the drawings of herald papers and heard mostly peculiar stories save the garden one. After a pleasant afternoon you buy Taehyung fresh apples and tangerines, pick up the guards and ride towards the forest. There, you spend time with Yoongi who has earned your nickname of “Prince Perfect” after some initial misunderstandings. Together you practice arching or swim in the river, and discuss wedding presents that Jimin might like. You’re very happy with Taehyung who’s always watching you with a beaming smile, and glad that he’s able to wear normal necklines again.

My, this was a great prompt as usual. Thank you historical Tae anon (I’ll just call you this way) for the request. Asks: Always welcome my sweet cubs 🐯 I love you. - Caro

629 notes · View notes

i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 7 years

Text

Likeness - Bucky x Reader One-shot

A/N: I don’t know what the hell happened here. Apparently my new coping mechanism for anxiety is writing Bucky Barnes fanfiction. Anyways this story took like 18 different directions while I was writing it. I mad delete this in the light of day but for now I hope you enjoy it.

Title: Likeness

Summary: Reader is an empath/can remove emotions from people but can’t make them feel things. She and Bucky grow close due to them being insomniacs/night owls together. Sam and reader are best friends (glossed over) and he encourages her to come to movie night with the team. Nat knows you have a thing for Bucky and for Sebastian Stan because you’ve been watching the movie the Covenant (2006) on repeat. So she picks that movie and you have no poker face. Anyways, hope you enjoy.

Rating: T

Warnings: vague mentions of dark emotions (nothing too specific), gets a little heated at the end (nothing too serious), i kinda dump on the Covenant (but in all reality I am a sucker for that movie and everyone in it)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Word count: 2,465

Your ability to remove emotional energy was what got you an invitation to the Avengers initiative.

At first you kept to yourself, overwhelmed by the high emotions in the tower. Bucky was the same way when he first returned from Wakanda. The two of you often bumped into each other at odd hours of the day and night. You usually respected each other’s space, just offering a nod of acknowledgment or a mumbled hello. Over time, you began to wait for one another late at night. On good nights you would retire to your room or his and watch movies or listen to music or talk until you fell asleep.

But some nights when the nightmares flooded his sleep and you found him gripping the kitchen counter, you would sit to his left and place your hand gently on his metal arm, siphoning the anxious energy that radiated off of him. Despite the anxiety and sorrow that sometimes rolled off of him, you enjoyed being with Bucky. He grounded you, at least when he wasn’t giving your stomach butterflies.

Sam was a totally different story. He immediately took a liking to you and did everything he could to get you to hang out with him. Most of the time, you were okay one on one. Sam had a lightness to him despite everything he had seen. You slowly became inseparable. After months of him plying you with your favorite foods and movies, you agreed to come down for a team movie night.

When you arrived, Sam was already situated in the recliner with a big bowl of popcorn. There was another sitting on the coffee table, and the popcorn machine was still hard at work.

“You finally made it,” he grinned, tossing you a beer from the cooler beside him.

“Hey, Sam. Thanks. So what are we watching tonight?”

“It’s Widow’s turn to pick.”

Right on cue, Natasha walked in with Steve and Clint. Wanda and Pietro followed directly behind. Steve grinned at you and you felt your stomach flutter. Anyone who said that Captain America’s smile didn’t make them swoon was a damn liar. But it was nothing compared to what you felt when Bucky cracked a smile, even if it wasn’t directed towards you.

“I’m glad you came, Y/N,” Steve said, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

Feeling more at ease, you smiled genuinely. “Me too.”

“So, Nat, what did you pick?” Wanda asked curiously.

“It’s this random B grade movie I found online one day. I haven’t seen it, but the reviews were pretty good.”

“What’s it called?”

“The Covenant.”

You tried to hold back the nervous giggle that escaped you, but you couldn’t help it. It bubbled past your lips and you ducked your head, mortified.

“Something you want to share with the class, y/n?” Sam asked in a lilting voice.

You glared at him.

“Nope, nothing at all. What’s the movie about, Nat?” You tried to sound casual but knew you were failing.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Nat challenged clearly enjoying herself. “You’ve clearly seen it.”

“It’s about these four guys who have magic powers and a fifth one who wants their power.”

“Is it any good?” Wanda asked, intrigued by the premise.

“It’s okay. I’ve only seen it once or twice,” you couldn’t hold back another embarrassed giggle as you lied.

“Riiight,” Sam drew out the word.

He wasn’t the only one who didn’t believe you, and you buried your head in your arms, occasionally letting out a giggle.

“Why does y/n sound like she’s a fourteen year old girl talking about her first crush?” Tony asked as he walked in with Bruce and Bucky.

Vision followed through the wall to her right.

“Miss y/l/n’s heart rate is elevated and her body is flushed. She seems to be experiencing both embarrassment and infatuation.”

“Vis, not helpful,” Wanda said sharply.

“My apologies,” the android remarked taking a seat next to Wanda.

You threw her a grateful smile anyways.

Sam and Nat seemed to put together what your reactions meant at the same time.

“Which one of them is it, y/n?” Sam asked, sitting up in the recliner.

You felt the couch dip next to you and looked over to Bucky who was watching everyone, but especially you in confusion.

“Which one of whom is what?” he asked.

“Which one of the four guys in the movie was y/n’s first crush?”

“None of them,” you answered honestly.

“Which one of the four guys in the movie is the reason you’ve seen it fifty-two times?” Nat asked pointedly.

It was only then that you realized that the battered DVD case she had brought down was yours. Nat had probably heard it playing on repeat in your room. Busted.

“Why don’t we just start the movie?” Cap suggested firmly.

You shot him a grateful smile and he rubbed soothing circles into your back. You thought you heard a low vibration from beside you, but decided to ignore it. Pulling on Steve’s calm, you focused on not giving yourself away.

Nat obliged and popped the DVD in and hit the lights.

The opening credits played and you really hoped no one else would notice which avenger one of the actors oh so closely resembled.

Your hope lasted all of four minutes. Surprisingly, it was Cap who realized it first. Well not so surprising in retrospect. He choked on his beer when Chase Collins came onto the screen.

“You okay, Cap?” you asked hitting him on the back a little more forcefully than necessary.

“I’m fine. Just went down the wrong pipe.”

Once everyone turned back to the movie, Cap looked at you with wide eyes, arching an eyebrow curiously. You sent him a pleading look that was met with an understanding nod and a mischievous smile.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms tightly around them, leaning your head on your forearms. You still didn’t feel small enough to avoid scrutiny. Steve lounged gracefully next to you, arm outstretched along the back of the couch. Bucky on the other hand sat with his elbows resting on his knees, watching intently.

Occasionally, the other team members would sneak a peek at you to gauge your reaction, but lucky for you never when he was on screen. An hour into the movie, Steve tugged you closer and wrapped an arm around your waist as he whispered in your ear.

You barely contained a squeak in surprise at his comment. Bucky was the only one who noticed the sound and turned, teasing smile in place, but it faded when he saw Steve’s hand on your waist. You felt the tension build in him next to you. Instinctively, you moved away from Steve towards Bucky, sliding your hand into his metal one and pulling away the feelings that plagued him. You could also feel Steve’s triumphant gloating beside you, but did your best to tune it out.

Bucky looked at you confused but content. You looked back at the television at the exact wrong moment. Chase was waiting by the pool to race, shirtless and you gulped audibly. Bucky turned to you with a shit eating grin, finally putting it together. He glanced at Steve who nodded, amused. You started to pull away, but he held your hand tighter.

Just before the movie ended, Bucky let go of your hand, stretching widely as the lights came on.

“That was actually not that bad,” Sam admitted, eyeing you.

“So, shall we vote on which of the four gets y/n’s motor running?” Tony teased.

Rolling your eyes, you unfurled yourself.

“All those in favor of the main tall brooding but sensitive archetype?”

Bruce and Vision raised their hands.

“All those in favor of the immediately adjacent, surprisingly even more brooding, but macho sidekick?”

Tony, Clint, and Pietro raised their hands.

“All those in favor of the sneaky, brooding, not as bad as he wants to be supporting character?”

No votes for that one, and you actually chuckled.

“And finally all those in favor of the generically attractive, only there so there could be four main guys supporting character?”

Sam raised his hand, surprised to be the only one.

“Oh come on,” Tony pouted, “You guys have to vote,” he whined at Natasha, Wanda, Steve, and Bucky.

“But you didn’t say our choice,” Natasha explained calmly.

You shot her and Wanda a betrayed look. Wanda just shrugged.

“Who? The blonde chick? I didn’t know you swung that way, y/n.”

“I was actually talking about the real bad boy.”

“That little dork on a power trip?” Tony asked in disbelief.

“Yup. All those in favor?”

You groaned as the four holdouts raised their hands.

“They were right? Really, y/n?” Sam asked incredulously.

All of them were smirking at each other.

“What do you all know that we don’t?” Clint asked Nat.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., give me a profile on the actor who played Chase Collins in the Covenant,” Tony ordered the A.I.

“Of course, boss. Chase Collins was played by actor Sebastian Stan. Known for his role in the TV shows Gossip Girl and Once Upon a Time. He was most recently in the news for being mistaken for…”

Sometimes you didn’t think the A.I. knew boundaries, but when she stopped reporting you realized you had been wrong.

“Mistaken for who, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony pressed.

“Bucky Barnes,” the A.I. reported.

You could almost sense the remorse in its tone.

“So that’s it,” Tony finally got it. “You’ve got a thing for the Winter Soldier.”

“And so what if I do?” You challenged, hoping your bravado would throw them off.

Luckily it did, mostly.

“Well, that would be okay,” Tony continued. “But I would be very curious about how the winter soldier feels.”

You felt panic, but you weren’t sure if it was yours or Bucky’s. You glanced over at Bucky who was glaring at Stark. You considered running away, but decided to stand your ground. Steve whether he knew it or not was lending you strength.

“How I feel about y/n, is between me and her,” Bucky stated sharply. “So butt out.”

Tony for once had the common sense to shut up.

“Well this is awkward,” Sam muttered a few moments later, “Movie night over.”

The team quickly disbanded after that. Bucky was the first to leave followed quickly by Steve. You stayed behind to clean up, despite Tony telling you his robot would do it. Once the room was back in order, you heaved a trash bag over your shoulder and headed for the trash shoot.

Still calming down about having your crush outed in front of everyone, you went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. You most definitely were not expecting to find Bucky there with a steaming mug waiting for you.

“Hey, y/n,” he cracked that smile that made your knees go weak.

“Hey, Bucky.”

“I thought you could use some hot chocolate.”

You couldn’t help but smile, settling onto the stool next to him.

“Thank you. I was just coming to make a mug.”

He let you sip your drink in comfortable silence, keeping his own mug of tea in hand.

“So, you must think this Sebastian Stan guy is pretty hot considering how much of a giggling mess you were earlier.”

His tone was light, teasing, and you decided to go with it rather than get upset.

“What can I say? The smile, the body, swoon.”

You swore you heard him mutter something about being buffer than him.

“What was that?”

“So the smile? That’s what does it for you?” He was no longer teasing. You felt sadness and uncertainty wash over him.

Throwing caution to the wind you decide on the truth.

“Yeah. Sebastian Stan’s smile reminds me of yours. That’s why I like him so much.”

Whatever the super soldier had been prepared to hear, it wasn’t that. His eyes flew open and he stared at you.

“So you like him because he reminds you of me?” he asked to clarify.

“Well, yeah. What did you think?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he chuckled.

“Well, I kind of thought that you liked me because I reminded you of him… I know I don’t smile much.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you stopped short when you saw his face. Turning so you could fully face him you took both of his hands in yours.

“Bucky, I like you. And yes, I love your smile. But I know right now that it takes a lot for that smile to come out, but that just makes it even more special to me. Every time I see you smile, everything around me feels lighter. And even when you aren’t smiling, being around you grounds me.”

“I feel the same way. I know sometimes you have to use your powers on me, but most of the time I feel better the second I’m with you. And I love your smile.”

He gently kissed one hand and then the other.

“And the way you blush.”

He leaned in closer, and suddenly you knew the butterflies weren’t just yours. He stopped millimeters away from your mouth.

“May I?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He closed the distance and for the first time you were kissing Bucky Barnes, and nothing else mattered. When he pulled back, there was a flood of emotions, both yours and his and it was enough to make you light headed. Noticing you swaying, Bucky swept you off the stool and carried you to the couch, settling you so your head was in his lap.

“I guess I haven’t lost my touch,” He commented with a smirk.

“Swoon,” you snarked back, though the effect was ruined by your panting.

Bucky smiled down at you, brighter than you’d ever seen and the buzzing, thrumming cacophony in your soul quieted. He stroked your hair gently as you stared up at him. You noticed when a flicker of curiosity passed over his gaze.

“What?”

“What did Steve say to you earlier?”

You laughed a little, but still blushed embarrassedly.

“He said that I had good taste in guys, but he didn’t think you’d cut your hair that short any time soon.”

“Do you want me to cut my hair, y/n?”

“I don’t think so. It be a lot harder to do this…” You grinned, sitting up and tangling your hands in his dark hair and tugging his mouth closer.

You stopped a hair’s breadth away from his lips.

“May I?”

“Anytime you want,” he whispered, before closing the distance. His hands settling in on your hips.

As his lips moved to your neck and you tugged on his hair, you made a mental note to never let him cut hair shorter than this.

A/N: So there you go, anxiety induced ramblings. Hope it was good for someone. Thanks for reading!

#Bucky x Reader #Bucky barnes #one-shot

232 notes · View notes

thebibliomancer · 7 years

Text

Essential Avengers: Giant-Size Avengers #4: ... Let All Men Bring Together

June, 1975

Hmm. Looks like a double wedding. And dread Dormammu is going to interject during the “speak now or forever hold your peace” bit.

Maybe its symbolic.

SO! Last time: There was a star that signaled the Celestial Madonna, that Celestial Madonna was Mantis, Kang tried to kidnap her and conquer the world, repeatedly, he failed, repeatedly!, Swordsman died, Immortus sent the Avengers on a timequest to learn Mantis’ origin and sent Vision on a different timequest to learn Vision’s origin, Moondragon showed up, as did a ghost? of the Swordsman and Mantis’ maybe dad Libra, Vision vanished into the dark, Wanda was possessed or something while learning magic from Agatha Harkness!

This time: the thrilling conclusion.

So Vision finds himself in some place and also under a noticeably different penciler and inker.

And because Vision is a comic book character in a comic book, he narrates to himself what has been happening recently. If there were any body just coming into the adventure, this would be helpful at getting them up to speed. But also, it must be relaxing since so many people do it. Like, a way to center yourself in times of confusion or stress?

But you know the drill if you’ve been following along. Ultron ‘borrowed’ the original Human Torch from the Mad Thinker, kidnapped original creator Professor Horton to force him to remodel the robot into the Vision, Horton refused to erase the Torch’s memories so Ultron killed him and replaced the Torch’s mind with brainwave data from Wonder Man, because it was available. Ultron is lazy.

So Vision’s question is this: obviously his timequest is over. He saw how he was created and filled in the gaps up to the point that he already knew. He should have been returned to Immortus. So whats the deal with this dark dimension he finds himself in?

... Its not much of a mystery. The answer is staring at you from the cover. Vision ended up in Dormammu’s Dark Dimension. And following the sound of a woman screaming, he finds the fire-headed man himself moshing in a fire.

Oh, also Dormammu’s sister Umar, who warns the fiery tyrant that the Vision is behind him. Dormammu has a sister?? Why isn’t her head on fire?

Dormammu has apparently been having a busy day. Clea visited him earlier, during Dr. Strange #7. Oh but also after that, a Scarlet Witch came to play. And Dormammu is gonna kill her.

Probably because of the time Scarlet Witch thwarted his takeover plan of Earth and got him shot through Loki’s brain.

Vision promises that he’ll use all his robot logic to stop Dormammu and save Wanda.

BUT FIRST: I bet you’re dying to know what’s up with Mantis, right?

Too bad.

So back at the Temple of Pama, Swordsman’s ghost? notices that Vision isn’t back from his timequest. He senses pain and sorrow and that Avengers are involved because of course. And despite or perhaps because it was a quest through time, Vision is overdue. So Immortus goes looking for him.

But by all means, continue the story Ghost Swordsman. Immortus already knows it anyway.

So we’ve covered pretty much all the historical aspects to Mantis’ backstory now. How the Kree are jerks and genocided their Cotati neighbors because the Skrulls maybe liked them more. How the Kree pacifists became the surviving Cotati’s secret allies and smuggled them off Hala. And how a pair of Kree pacifists founded the Priests of Pama.

So how does it relate specifically to Mantis?

Well. She’s the perfect human.

Mantis’ expression seems to indicate ‘hahahah what?’

The fact that Mantis doesn’t believe it is the reason why Mantis is the perfect human, apparently. Why, just look at near-perfect human, Moondragon.

See, Mantis and Moondragon were given very similar upbringings. They lost their family, were taken to a temple founded by Kree pacifists to be taught perfect control of mind and body, were worshiped by the priests for what they might someday become and how they could kick a thick pole in half. Their training also covered the arts of the mind and became the first non-Kree to commune with the Cotati. This is the basis for what Mantis called her empathic connection to nature.

But when they completed their training, the two women were taken in wildly different directions.

Moondragon was allowed to stay in the temple to continue her work as a priestess.

Mantis had her memories erased, was given false memories of a life on the streets of Saigon, and was dumped to fend for herself.

... Geez. That’s... geez.

Ahem, anyway. When the two completed their training, it was decided that Mantis had an earthier nature than Moondragon, perhaps due to actually living on Earth.

Swordsman?: “So she was selected to abandon her temple and walk amidst other humans -- to seek perfect humanity.”

Fucks sake.

Ahem again. A cloistered life in a temple was judged to be incapable of imparting complete understanding of life in the full society. Which is fair.

Moondragon is a bit surprised to hear that she was brought here to day to stand besides Mantis so that an ethereal Frenchman can point at her and say ‘see, this is what happens when you don’t make your prospective messiah build some character.’

Or at least that’s how I’m interpreting it.

A quick interjection here. According to Swordsman?? the reason why they trained two girls is because, hey, its better to have a backup in case one dies. By that logic, it would have been better to have multiple girls also going down the ‘learning humanity’ path with Mantis in case something happened and maybe a control group of not subjecting children to warped education schemes but its for the best that this weird conspiracy kept itself to only two girls.

Thor and Iron Man share a moment to talk about what a journey into mystery this is that they’re observing but Hawkeye has something to show them.

Its the Titanic Three (Radioactive Man, Titanium Man, Crimson Dynamo - who all decided that instead of going back to their home countries to be used as pawns or continue to attack America, they’d become Vietnam’s superhero team). And someone beat them up right in front of the temple.

Well, Titanic Three. It took you one additional appearance to go from patsies for a criminal not-so-mastermind to being worfed to show that something bad is coming.

And if you think I’m exaggerating:

Iron Man: “These guys are tough -- but something did a job on them!”

Its textbook worfing.

Anyway, the Titanic Three were investigating the Avengers’ disappearance (when they were kidnapped to Limbo) because hey they don’t like them but they’re committed to their new roles. But then they ran into Kang.

MEANWHILE BACK IN THE DARK DIMENSION:

Vision confronts Dormammu.

Dormammu tells Vision he shouldn’t even bother rescuing Wanda. She’s headstrong. She ignored Agatha Harkness’ warnings and called upon forces she couldn’t control.

So I guess that’s why Wanda was acting like a dick. Explicitly she was possessed by Dormammu when she attacked Moondragon.

Wanda sure gets possessed a lot. Part of messing with magic, I guess. Like how Vision gets hacked a lot. They really are a pair of peas in a pod.

Anyway, yeah don’t even bother rescuing her. You should just go. And hey, Dormammu ain’t got no reason to hate you but if you stick around, he just might.

Vision notices that Dormammu is talking an awful lot considering that this is his domain and he should be adjacent to all-powerful. Vision’s robot logic hazards a guess that Dormammu is bluffing.

So Dormammu summons some demons to attack Vision.

Its no big to just go intangible and let their attacks fly through him. But controlling density with precision in this hellish environment takes energy. And Vision is low on energy after his voyage through time left him little opportunity to replenish his solar battery.

BUT: he has just learned that he used to be the Human Torch, who could absorb flame within certain limits. And his systems were revamped but his plastoid flesh was left mostly untouched except for being made bright red. Hypothetically, Vision could absorb some of this demonic flame to replenish himself.

And yes, this turns out to be true.

I don’t know if it ever comes up that much, like Vision’s ability to remote-control his cape’s density, but for this moment right now, he can absorb fire through his solar gem.

And then he uses Solar Beam on the demons and it is Super Effective.

Umar wonders if Dormammu really will admit that he’s bluffing, that his powers have not fully returned after reconstructing himself from that being eaten by the Evil Eye thing.

But eh. No. He still has other pawns to throw at Vision. Like how about this Scarlet Witch? Remember how Dormammu is controlling her? That’s still a thing.

And he commands that she destroy the Vision.

Which is sure to be an exciting fight and oh we’re cutting away back to Vietnam, okay.

Swordsghost continues his story. Confirming that yes, the priests just dumped Mantis somewhere to fend for herself.

Swordsman??: “The Priests of Pama led their charge from their temple on the night of her eighteen birthday. Dressed in the clothing of the time -- she was abandoned unceremoniously in Saigon, left to make her way as best she could.”

That is the worst birthday gift.

Luckily? she was soon employed by her unbeknownst uncle Monsieur Khruul (he got killed by a dragon and deserved it) to work as a pretty face in a bar.

It was there she met the Swordsman and was drawn to the frail nobility in his soul and as previously relayed managed to convince him to turn his life around when he almost died.

And it was this trick of fate that brought her into contact with the Avengers.

Geez. This story is continuing for some reason even though its getting to the stuff Mantis already knows.

Although I guess Moondragon wasn’t there for it. But I’m surprised she’s still around since she was brought into this just as an unfavorable comparison. Learning that she was a failed attempt to make a perfect human might go some way to explaining how she acts later, except she pretty much always acted like that. So. I guess she’s taking it in stride.

Thor, Iron Man, and Hawkeye are less than thrilled that Kang is back again again and decide to split up and cover more ground that way.

Or rather, Hawkeye proposes the plan and Iron Man jokes that Thor better watch out or Hawkeye will be after chairmanship of the Avengers.

Which makes Hawkeye ponder. He always used to get on Cap’s case during the kooky quartet days about who should give orders but he hasn’t thought about leading the Avengers in a very long time. And he likes the thought.

Thor has different feelings. He knows that he has held the position long enough and that it is time for someone else to lead the team. But he enjoys the responsibility of leading the Avengers and wishes not to give up the position.

Thor muses on godhood for a while and how Mantis is poised to ascend to it but spots Kang.

Kang: “Curse you, Thor! You may have discovered me -- but you won’t turn the tide of battle this time!”

And blah blah blah. He’s going to get that Celestial Madonna for sure this time. Kang really doesn’t know when to give up.

So Thor hits him really hard with Mjolnir. Kang tries to zap him but then Thor hits him with Mjolnir a couple more times until the conqueror is out.

Thor contemplates killing the insensate villain to fulfill his vow to avenge Iron Man’s death in Limbo. But Immortus returned Iron Man to life. And it would probably be a dick move to kill a man’s younger self after he saved your friend and let you go on a cool timequest. So he ultimately decides against it.

Meanwhile, Hawkeye explores the grounds around the temple, still musing on being chairman of the Avengers. He decides that next time he does something impressive (like capture Kang, maybe?) he’s going to propose new elections.

And then he runs into Kang.

Wait what?

Kang: “Curse you, Hawkeye! You may have discovered me --”

Hang on. Anyone else getting deja vu?

BUT TIME TO CHECK IN ON VISION AGAIN

VISION VS SCARLET WITCH

I mean. Wanda is scary powerful now. Her new command of magic gives her control over natural forces. She attacks Vision with molten lava and with a giant boulder. But being able to control his density means he no-sells it all. And since he’s a synthetic man, he’s immune to her powers.

Except, not precisely.

There is one part of him that’s not man-made. And that’s the jewel on his forehead.

And Wanda simply has to command it to release all of its stored energy, and Vision’s goose is cooked.

Drained of power, Vision starts to collapses. But he tells Wanda that only she can save him now but she must remember who she is and who he is. And for one last time, he says he loves her.

SLUMP!

That snaps Wanda out of it and in despair she shouts “WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!”

TIME TO SWAP VIEWPOINTS AGAIN

Ghost!Swordsman is still telling Mantis’ story, including the parts she already knows that aren’t that flattering. He claims that Mantis actually knew nothing of love when she first came to the Avengers.

Libra: “He speaks of exploring the limits of your humanity... your attraction to glamor, your competitiveness, your selfishness, loneliness, lust-- all that which passes for love and is not. For all that you had learned, you could not love with so much of you still bottled up inside. Thus, there came a time when you needed to learn that there was more to learn about life.”

And that was Libra’s role, as the balance. See, this whole time Libra knew more than he let on. Part of the reason he became Libra of Zodiac was that as the leader of an international crime-cartel, he could be assured to encounter Mantis no matter where she ended up or what she ended up doing.

So after leaking enough information to Taurus to make him think Zodiac could defeat the Avengers (they couldn’t) he told Mantis enough about her past to make her question her life.

Which, as I theorized when covering those issues, is what made her turn to the Vision. She saw him as a pillar of stability.

NOW BACK TO THE DARK DIMENSION

Scarlet Wanda promises to make Dormammu pay for what he made her do. Dormammu isn’t impressed. He brought her here as a means of filling time until he could figure out how to conquer Earth. She’s not in charge here. He is.

Big mistake.

Dormammu tries to put Wanda under his control again but Agatha Harkness finally shows up, revealing that Wanda freed her when she regained control over herself. And Agatha Harkness returned the favor by stopping Dormammu from controlling Wanda again.

And that leaves Wanda free to strike. Which she does, using her newfound magics to cool the lava Dormammu has been sitting in. Which he needed the heat from to complete his regeneration.

Umar goes to intervene, less out of love for Dormammu and more because she has plans for him, but Vision pops up and fists through her skull, knocking her out.

See, when Wanda freed Agatha Harkness, she also restored Vision. She’s great at multitasking.

Dormammu desperately sues for peace, unable to afford further heat loss.

Not sure she can trust him, Wanda nonetheless lays out her terms.

1. He’ll return herself, the Vision, and Agatha Harkness to Earth with no further fear of himself or his sister bothering them.

2. He’ll free the Earth spirit (old woman tied to a wall or whatever. Its a Dr. Strange thing)

3. He’ll abandon his plans to conquer Earth

Dormammu agrees, secretly planning to renege (he only kept his similar vow to Dr. Strange because he owed Strange a solid) and make Wanda pay. But he does need to return them to Earth because those are immediate right now demands and he can’t afford to get on Wanda’s shitlist.

Meanwhile back on Earth but also on the temple grounds instead of Mantis listening to a story about Mantis:

Kang finishes his familiar statement about how nothing can keep him from the Celestial Madonna this time.

Hawkeye is slightly less of a match for Kang then Thor was. But Hawkeye has been giving it a lot of thought and blasts Kang with gas arrows. And Kang’s force field doesn’t keep out air, otherwise he’d suffocate. So Kang passes out.

Iron Man walks in on the scene, holding his own Kang. And then so does Thor. And all three think they fought Kang. The Kang they fought fought like Kang. And had his technology. and they have heartbeats so they’re not robots.

Realizing that this is some kind of deception probably, the three take their Kang prisoners and head back to the temple.

After loads and loads of exposition, Mantis is finally prepared to believe this story about her. But she’s still a bit unclear why this. Why this anything.

Swordsman????: “Woman, have you not seen that you are to marry that tree?”

Mantis: “What? What did you say?”

That’s the only reasonable response really.

Ghost Swordsman clarifies. That tree is the eldest Cotati on Earth. And in the prime of his life. Y’know, at that point where a young tree’s fancy turns to pollen. But also, he has spent years perfecting his mental powers. And now he is the perfect plant seeking the perfect union.

And Mantis is the perfect human.

Mantis: “This -- this is insane!”

Again, the only reasonable response.

Mantis insists that even if she could marry a tree and lets put a pin in that to come back to later because no, she couldn’t become a Madonna because a human can’t have a child with a tree.

Well, no. But that’s why Elder Earth Cotati resurrected Swordsman’s body and possessed it. As a wedding gift! Since she loved him!

And now a tree is wearing his body around like a meat suit!

Geez. The Swordsman gets no dignity in life or death.

But seriously, put your forehead to my bark and you’ll understand all, Swordstree promises. And a suspicious Mantis does.

SCENE CHANGE AGAIN, AVENGERS MANSION:

blip, Vision, Wanda and Agatha Harkness were transported back here. Which was mighty kind of Dormammu. He could have put them in the Everglades and kept to the letter of the agreement. Earth is a big place.

Wanda asks Agatha Harkness if they could delay her witch training for a bit so she can have a moment with Vision.

Agatha Harkness: “My child, this is your house. I am only a guest here. Besides, you are the woman who just saved the world, as well as three of its occupants -- quite skillfully, too, I might add. You’d make me feel silly asking my permission to do anything.”

Besides, Wanda has completed her training with Agatha Harkness. She has learning to do still but its learning she has to do for herself.

So Agatha Harkness scampers off to give the two some privacy while also noting in a dirty old woman kind of way that she’d love to hear what the two of them talk about.

And when she’s gone, Vision reveals that he too has been learning recently.

Vision: “Wanda... she spoke of your instruction, but it’s I who’s been learning over the past months. First we were apart because we quarreled... then because you were immersed in bettering yourself... and for the first time, I lived a life without your warmth. I found that such a life was far more barren than life with us together. I didn’t truly realize how I felt -- or that I felt as deeply as I do -- until Mantis offered herself to me -- and I felt no desire to accept her. Wanda, you are the only woman for me! I can make you happy! Forget all the human rules and please... marry me.”

Wanda asks why it is that Vision loves her. Is it only because she was the first girl he met?

And he answers that its partially because his life is so tied into being an Avenger that he could only love a woman who can understand that. And also because he has finally become fully aware of himself as a man. He’s no longer a mysterious synthezoid of unknown origin. He was created to be human. He had a father.

Vision: “Now I can be your man for all my synthetic flesh.”

Wanda: “I know you can. Don’t you see, love is for souls, not bodies? Yes, Vision -- yes, I’ll marry you!”

Aww.

SCENE CHANGE!

Back at Vietnam.

Mantis has just finished communing with the tree, having accepted her role as the Celestial Lorax. She realizes everything she’s been told is true and that this tree is definitely her soul mate. She’s gonna do it, she’s gonna marry a tree.

And then Iron Man, Hawkeye, Thor and three Kangs show up. Warning, hey Kang is probably about and causing trouble. But since forewarned is forearmed, they must stand ready for anything and- dangit.

Kang just materializes his time sphere above Mantis, puts a force field around her, scoops her up, and then amscrays to the ends of time.

Kang: “This was my most brilliant strategy of the war! As a time traveler, I can journey to the same moment many times, from different points in the future! Thus I appeared three other times this day! I expected you to take longer in battling my other selves -- but even with your early return, I yet emerge victorious! Despite all predictions, Kang has captured the Celestial proving me the most powerful man on Earth -- and when Mantis mates with me, I shall become ruler of the heavens!”

If she doesn’t bite your head off first.

Anyway, it was just that simple. One wonders why he didn’t just do that before. But remember, Kang is an idiot who likes a challenge. Until it becomes too challenging and then he cheats.

The Avengers and discolored Moondragon get ready to follow him... somehow... but Immortus stops them.

Oh, yeah, and Immortus is back. Look who he found at Avengers Mansion! Vision, Scarlet Witch, and Agatha Harkness.

Oh and also, yeah, he knew Kang would pull this. Because he is Kang and remembers doing this. So now its time to open the wedding gift he brought.

Remember that big box he brought, called attention to, and refused to explain?

He opens it now to reveal... Mantis?

Remember that Immortus is rule of Limbo. And Limbo only has one subject.

THE SPACE PHANTOM.

Yup. Immortus trolled Kang with a Space Phantom disguised as Mantis, while swapping the real Mantis into a giant simulated Limbo box.

The Celestial Madonna Saga as a whole is basically just Kang trolling himself through time. Like he’s Karkat or something.

Kang doesn’t take it well. But its not like the Space Phantom enjoys it either. Rawwwwww, its a living.

Anyway.

Mantis announces that she’s totally going to marry a psychic tree and give birth to a new lifeform. Because.

Cotati Swordsman: “Yes, beloved. Humans deal broadly with life, but not deeply... while plants deal deeply but not broadly. One has mobility, the other mind control. There must be a mingling of the two, for the benefit of both!”

Scarlet Witch: “If there’s any mingling going on, the Vision and I want in on it!”

Yup. Scarlet Witch crashes Mantis’ destiny wedding to make it a double wedding. Because she didn’t want a big ceremony anyway. She just wants to tie the knot with her love machine.

Although it also sounds like Scarlet Witch is into swinging?

Anyway, Immortus decides he’s going to officiate these weddings. Sure, he isn’t a registered minister or anything. But he has a cool castle. The weddings won’t be legally binding, having been performed by a person not yet born in another country. So Wanda and Vision will have to fill out some paperwork when they get back.

But also, how often do you get to have a double wedding alongside a tree and a Celestial Madonna officiated by a weirdo who lives in a timeless Limbo? None often, probably.

And before the ceremonies can get started, Thor does what should have been done a while back and officially makes Mantis an Avenger, instead of just a de facto Avenger that lives in the mansion and goes on all the missions.

And Wanda is happy for her. Sure, she didn’t like her for a long time and really only likes her now that she’s marrying a tree and not coming after Vision anymore... but.... um.... Hey, she’s happy for her! They were besties for five seconds once. I remember those five seconds sadly and fondly.

So then the wedding ceremony.

It happens.

And Mantis bids the Avengers farewell. Aww...

And then... she and her Cotati Swordsman husband turn into pure energy and fly into space?? To I guess mingle their essences and conceive a perfect god baby.

And having done that, Mantis will become a free agent, backpack around space, and flirt with Silver Surfer. Perhaps that’s why she agreed to marry the tree after all.

Get your destiny over and done with and then enjoy the rest of your life. That’s the way to do it, if you want to do it.

.... Yeah.

So. The Celestial Madonna Saga. According to the collected edition, it covered Avengers #123-125, 129-135 and Giant-Size Avengers #2-4. That’s thirteen issues, three of which are Giant-Sized. It covered that bit from Libra claiming to be Mantis’ dad and the Star-Stalker, took a break for some one-offs and for Crystal and Quicksilver’s wedding, and then picked up again from the appearance of the Celestial Madonna star to the double wedding.

A lot of weddings in this stretch of time.

It was a big, dense storyline that covered not only Mantis’ awakening as the Celestial Madonna but also revealed her true backstory, Vision’s true backstory, Kang’s future as Rama-Tut and Immortus, the first time an Avenger died that was an Avenger for more than a single issue, the backstory of the Kree/Skrull War, space intreegue, Wanda taking a level up by studying witchcraft, the development of Wanda and Vision’s relationship, Mantis becoming an official Avenger and leaving the team for pure energy space sex a page later, and a double wedding.

It covered a lot of ground and the final stretch of that was incredibly exposition heavy.

As you can tell from my hasty summary of everything, the Celestial Madonna Saga was arguably as important, if not more so, for Kang, Vision, and Wanda’s character development as it was for Mantis’.

Was it a good story?

Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Your mileage may vary? Parts of it were very good or at least entertainingly bad or batshit.

I liked the backstory confirming that the Kree have always just been the biggest assholes in space.

But. You can see the shadows here of how Carol Danvers leaves the Avengers in issue #200.

In fact, just like Chris Claremonte had Carol blast the Avengers for that story, the Crossing was supposed to be Mantis’ revenge for the Avengers letting her be bamboozled into going off into space to marry a tree wearing her dead boyfriend.

And, in fairness... Cotati Swordsman does stress that the Eldest Earth Cotati is super good at mind control.

I guess what I’m dancing around here is that Mantis’ grand destiny as the Celestial Madonna means that her destiny is in her womb. She’s going to have an important baby. Its a terrible version of the Chosen One.

And it means that nearly her whole life, Mantis has been groomed into an arranged marriage by her biological father and by the priests that raised her.

She’s guided and railroaded into this decision. And although it (seemingly) is her decision in the end, she’s really pressured into it.

In so many ways she lacks agency in this story. The Celestial Madonna Saga is the story of things happening to Mantis while everyone else gets cool character development.

Oh and also I know that Celestial here refers to heavenly things but it occurred to me when Kang called Mantis the Celestial full stop that Celestial is a term that used to refer to things Chinese and maybe calling a Vietnamese-German woman a Celestial Anything was a misstep.

Still cool that the Perfect Human was a Vietnamese-German woman. Not as cool that being the Perfect Human meant you had to marry the Perfect Tree.

I think based on modern sensibilities, a lot of small things could have made it less bad. Although modern sensibilities would probably not do it at all. And that’s probably why modern portrayals of Mantis act like the Celestial Madonna is still something she has to get around to doing eventually.

So. One thing would be to make it so that it was Mantis’ decision to leave the temple, live among normal people, learn humanity, and her decision to wipe her own memories for that goal. Instead of being dumped to fend for herself and build character, it would have been more like the Buddha’s journey. Except with more auto-mind-wiping.

Going along with that would be to make becoming the Celestial Madonna an explicit goal of pre-mindwipe Mantis. Something she was working toward. Something that was, again, her choice.

Another thing would be I guess, to make the Cotati Swordsman have the Swordsman’s memories and soul or whatever. So its less of Mantis marrying a tree with basically a picture of Swordsman stapled to it. Except worse.

So aside the big Mantis marrying a tree elephant in the room, what else is there to say about the Celestial Madonna Saga? Just some structural complaints.

Its a very long and dense story. Perhaps longer and more dense than it needs to be. It gets very exposition heavy at the end. Its possible that some of the reveals could have been spread out to be less back loaded.

The exposition heavy nature means that for the last few issues of it, the Avengers (sans Vision) are just hanging around, spectating, and peanut gallerying Mantis’ backstory. Because moral support and because they don’t have anything better to do. Perhaps why Kang attacks in this issue. Gives the Avengers some reason to be hanging around.

And Kang comes back about one too many times. Or three too many times at the same time? He’s very much the big villain of the piece but he attacks three times in fairly rapid succession, with diminishing effectiveness. I did like Immortus trolling him though so iunno.

I will also say again about Swordsman that it was a shame to see him die without fully living up to the potential as an Avenger. And that his tenure and death and post-death were so ignoble.

Next time, the Avengers go through a period of change but first a rerun.

#Avengers #Kang the Conqueror #Scarlet Witch #Vision #Mantis #Cotati #Dormammu #Titanic Three #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging #mantis and a tree sitting in a.... er.... um....#goodbye mantis #possibly the weirdest double wedding #Thor #Iron Man #Hawkeye

22 notes · View notes

impandagrl · 7 years

Text

Devils’ Trap

Devils’ Trap Part 2

Characters- Sam, Dean, (female)Reader

Pairings- None

Summary- Canon fic: Sam and Dean rescue the reader from demon possession and realize she could hold valuable information- if only she could remember …

Word Count- a little over 4k

Warnings- Canon-typical action violence; Mild (censored) language

A/N- The second (final) part to my first spn fanfic. I was less confident about this part, but here it is. It has its moments. Feedback is welcome (please keep comments constructive)

First Part Here

Thanks again to my patient and generous betas @jalove-wecallhimdean, and @deals-with-demons

To @seenashwrite and @neversatisfiedgirl, who are two of several amazing writers that inspired me and who were cool enough to read the first part and make me think they might want to know how it ends.

To my CAH peeps. I just really wanted to shout out to you guys (I’ve probably forgotten some of you though, sorry!). Do not feel obligated to read it, but know I think y’all rock :) @hamartiamacguffin, @avasmommy224, @amanda-teaches, @niamandthings, @greeneyesinlaceandangelsgrace, @luciisthebest, @idreamofhazel, @castielhasthetardis, etc.

And to @whovian1077 for these amazing late-night fandom chats

(Y/N) leaned her head against the car window. This was torturous. She wished she knew what was going on in there. Checking the phone for the dozenth time revealed that only eight minutes had passed. She groaned in frustration and went back to staring out the window.

Sam covered the demon’s mouth with one hand to muffle the noise as his other drove the blade deep between its ribs. He slipped into the next small room, relieved when he confirmed it wasn’t occupied. The building had most likely been used as a church. The main room was wide with a small stage and rows of benches. It was too open. If he’d stayed there he would be dead or captured by now, but he had fought his way through, and was currently playing a deadly game of hide-and-seek in the maze of small offices and classrooms. With whatever attention he could spare while trying to stay alive, he was desperately trying to find the door that would lead him to the basement. He could only assume since he hadn’t seen or heard from Dean that he was still down there- most likely in serious trouble. He heard voices down the hall and picked up a desk lamp. Waiting in the doorway until he was sure the demons were just around the corner he hurled the lamp into the adjacent room, ducking out of sight behind the door. He listened as the three demons tripped over themselves rushing toward the noise and, through the sliver of gap between the door and the frame, he caught their reactions as they reached the body Sam had left in the hall. Two of them took the bait, diving into the room Sam had thrown the lamp, and began to tear it apart searching for him. The last one stayed crouched over the corpse looking around suspiciously. Waiting until the demon’s back was mostly turned he made his move, reaching his target in a few quick strides and driving the blade down into his back. He barely stopped, heard the thump of the body hitting the ground as he passed, and reached the door of the other room in time to slam it on the arm of one of the demons who had heard the slight noise and decided to investigate. The demon screamed. His buddy was right behind him and they crashed into the door to try to force it open, but Sam swung it wide as they collided, their rush sending them sprawling, off-balance, into the hallway. As they came through, Sam grabbed the first demon’s damaged arm and used his momentum to slam him into the wall, quickly dispatching him with the blade. He felt the hands around his neck as he turned, the other guy had recovered quickly. The hands were incredibly strong, crushing his trachea, and Sam knew he had to find a way to loosen the grip or he was going to get choked out- or worse. He tensed forward and felt the demon respond instinctively to his movement. Immediately he threw his body backward bringing them both to the ground. He stabbed wildly over his shoulder, pinning one of the demon’s arms and breaking completely the already loosened pressure on his neck. He rolled quickly, jerked the blade out of the demon’s arm and plunged it into his throat. Rubbing his neck and greedily gulping lungfuls of air, Sam knew he couldn’t rest for long. Had to keep moving. Where the hell was Dean?

Dean woke to a sharp pain in his upper arm. He jerked and inhaled sharply and the pressure went away. His eyes shot open and he quickly assessed the situation. The demon that had punched him out was gone. There were two of them left in the room, though they were no longer focused on him. They were fixated on the door leading up to the main floor. That ginger b–ch had stabbed him in the left shoulder before they tied him up. The wound was flaring and throbbing now, the source of the pain that had roused him. He felt a light pressure on his wrists. They were nearly numb from the rope biting into them, but he could feel someone working on the knot. He couldn’t turn to see- he didn’t want to alert the two clowns by the stairs something was up- but he could hear the slight whisper of breath, feel the slight shakiness of the fingers as they tried to manipulate the cords. It wasn’t Sam … Son of a b–ch! He clenched his jaw, biting back a growl. If they made it out of this, someone was going to have to explain exactly what was so difficult to understand about the words, ‘sit tight’. He rotated his shoulders back as far as they would go, trying to give her a little slack to work with. It seemed to help, he could feel his bonds loosen. Then suddenly, he was free. He felt cool metal pressed into his hands and he gripped the flask of holy water. He hoped she would know to stay hidden. He had enough to worry about at the moment without having to divide his attention trying to keep her alive, but couldn’t risk communicating that to her. He measured the distance between him and the stairs. He was only going to have a split second where they were caught off-guard. He’d better make it count. He had his plan and made his move. Springing up and crossing the space in a blur of motion, he whipped Ginger in the face with holy water causing her to shriek and cringe to the right of the stairs before barreling into Baldy sending him sprawling to the left. He let some space open between them and used a spray of holy water to make him stumble back further. He could feel Ginger coming up behind him. He sent another splash of holy water right to the face of the snarling demon in front of him and grabbed the edge of the shelf nearby, pulling with all his might. He felt sharp nails bite into his shoulders as she tackled him. Their combined weight brought the heavy iron shelf stacked with canned goods down on top of Baldy. That would hopefully keep him busy for a while. Thankfully Ginger hadn’t been able to get a good hold on him. He twisted and whipped some of the contents of the flask into her face and was able to break free. He didn’t have much holy water left, maybe one or two uses if he was careful. The demon eyed him warily and circled. She was on her own now, but that could change any moment, and she knew he didn’t have any weapons that could kill her, not on him. If he could find a way to get out with (Y/N) he could regroup, restock, and come back in for Sam. Suddenly, she relaxed and threw back her head in laughter. That’s never a good sign … She sprang at him, throwing him into the metal pillar he’d been tied to. His back collided with the edge of the beam, knocking the breath from his lungs. He rolled out of the way and raised himself to a crouch trying to get his diaphragm to work again. She seemed in no hurry, she was confident now. “See, I was waiting, thinking your brother’s knife in my back was going to be the last thing I ever felt, but it was her, wasn’t it? She’s here.” She raised a hand, an invisible force slamming him into the wall, and barked out over her shoulder, “Show yourself or I kill him right now!” Dean couldn’t see with the pillar in the way, but he assumed (Y/N) had done as she was told. The black eyes snapped back to Dean, exultant. “You figured it out, right? The little cow was bait. We picked someone pathetic enough we knew you’d be sure to save her. Once you did, she was programmed to lead you right here, though I heard the demon in charge of riding her had an incredible time trying to get the location to stick. Not much upstairs, I’m afraid. Well it looks like she did her job well in the end.” She turned her head slightly. “Do you hear me, little girl? You think you can undo it; try to make up for all the blood on your hands?” She stretched her other hand toward (Y/N) and Dean heard the sick thump of her body colliding with something solid across the room. The demon returned her full focus back to Dean. “I suppose as a reward for all her help we could let her go free … killing her might be a kindness though, with all the trauma of being a demon’s meat suit, and the memory wiping- and then the knowledge of what she’s done … “ “Look, are you going to talk us to death, ‘cause that’s just cruel even for a demon.” His expression only showed exaggerated boredom, but he swore he was going to enjoy wiping that smug look off her face. She snarled, and he felt his throat constricting. Now would be an excellent time to come through that door, Sammy! Suddenly a shot rang out.

Sam heard the shot and froze for a second before racing toward the sound. A second shot followed a few minutes later. He knew every demon in the place was going to be swarming in the same direction, so he was prepared when he rounded a corner and met two goons pulling at the handle of the heavy metal door. He dispatched one of them with the knife and kicked the other one down the stairs. He felt a surge of relief as he saw Dean grappling with a tall demon with a buzz cut. A woman with flaming hair lay on the ground seemingly lifeless. He fought a grin as his brother used the last of his canteen of holy water on his opponent and then neatly bounced the flask off its head too. Propelling himself down the stairs, Sam took care of the writhing demon he’d sent down ahead of him and tossed Dean the knife. A half-dozen demons poured down the stairs, but they were met with the unstoppable force that was Sam and Dean. What followed was like an elaborate choreographed dance. The brothers had fought together all their lives and knew exactly where the other was going to be and what they needed without having to speak. A few more demons joined the party, but most of the second wave eventually ended up bailing their hosts when they realized what they were up against. Finally, there were only two left standing. Dean dropped his opponent with the blade. Sam had a hold of a black eyed woman who was trying to get purchase on his throat. Realizing it was alone, the demon left her and she went limp in his arms. He searched for a pulse as he slowly lowered her to the ground, but he didn’t feel any. He shook his head. None of the previously possessed were moving and he was afraid their souls were long gone. Dean wiped the blade on his jacket, straightened and looked over Sam’s shoulder. “(Y/N),” his voice was low and calm like one would talk to a wild animal. Sam spun and saw her leaning with her back against a shelf. Her face was pale, eyes unfocused. She had a death grip on Dean’s shotgun. Dean cautiously approached her from the side and grabbed the barrel of the gun. “Hey, you can let go of that.” She started and turned to him, still dazed. “I’m not sure I can.” She gave a weak attempt at a chuckle. Sam came around the other side and put one arm behind her shoulders supporting her. He rested his other hand on her arm. “Yes, you can.” She stared at her hands as if it required all her concentration and released the weapon one finger at a time. Dean set it aside and they lowered her to the ground till she was seated still using the shelf for support. Sam kept one of his hands where her shoulder met her neck, he could feel her tensing, trying to keep the shaking in check. She was dangerously close to going into shock. “S-Sorry,” her teeth were clenched to keep them from chattering. Dean huffed, “We’ll talk about ‘sorry’ later. Sip this.” He held his other, smaller flask to her lips. She put up one hand to hold it, but Dean didn’t let go as she took a small drink. Honestly, Sam doubted she could have kept it steady on her own. She coughed as the whisky hit her throat, but she swallowed and took another sip, and then a third when Dean prompted. When Dean took the flask away to take a swig himself she closed her eyes and took a few deep shuddering breaths before the drink seemed to take effect. Her trembling stilled and she regained some color. Dean passed the flask to Sam, then eyed (Y/N), a hint of amusement on his face, “You ever shoot a gun before?” She licked her lips, “Um, yeah. Not a shotgun, but a rifle a couple times. And my cousin has a friend who’s an instructor; I had a lesson from her on how to shoot a handgun. I didn’t know how bad the kick was going to be, so I figured I should put my back against something.” Dean shook his head and chuckled, “Well, thanks for not shooting me.” “What happened?” Sam directed the question to Dean. Dean grimaced at him and shot a glance at (Y/N). She ducked her head. “I’m sorry,” her desperate apology was barely over a whisper. “Hey!” Dean managed to maintain a gentleness to his tone, without leaving any room for argument, “the only thing I wanna hear you say sorry for is going back on your word and putting yourself in danger.” He tilted his gaze back to Sam, but it was clear his explanation was for her benefit as well, “What happened, is six of ‘em jumped me and knocked me out after they tied me to that pole. She managed to sneak in here and wake me up-” he ruefully eyed a trickling stab wound on his left arm. “Then she freaking untied me and slipped me the holy water all without the two who were supposed to be guarding me noticing a damn thing. “She kept herself hidden while I pinned Baldy over there under a shelf.” He nodded toward the demon he’d been struggling with when Sam had first found him. “That ginger b–ch had me against the wall and started running her mouth about how this was all a set up. How they screwed with (Y/N)’s memory, and let us take her alive so she could tell us where they were waiting for us …” Sam’s eyes widened; he turned to study (Y/N). Her hands were on her knees, eyes on the ground in shame. His stomach twisted in sympathy. Dean went on in a lower voice. “(Y/N), everything that thing said, it wasn’t true. You know that, right? Demons lie; it’s what they do.” She wanted so badly to believe him, it was written on her face. “You don’t understand, I remembered everything while I was waiting back in the car. It made me kill that random girl because I wouldn’t help them. After that … I pretty much did whatever it wanted. You rescued me and then I betrayed you.” She didn’t look away this time, but she was braced waiting for them to react to this knowledge. Sam spoke up, “You think we’re going to blame you for what was done to you?” he shook his head, “(Y/N), you came running in here, risking your life to try to help us- which was stupid, by the way, you get that right?” he kept his tone and expression light to make it obvious he was teasing and she rewarded him with a small smile. He finished, “Honestly, I think the reason you were having such a hard time yesterday, was because even though you couldn’t remember, subconsciously you knew you didn’t want to bring us here. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She looked back and forth between them and let out a shaky breath. Dean smirked, “Dude, you should have seen that ginger b–ch’s face! She was mid-rant when (Y/N) blasted her with a salt round. The skank couldn’t wrap her head around what just happened. I was on top of her whaling on her before she could recover and I started to exorcise her, but she bailed. Then Baldy got free and was coming for me and (Y/N) shot him too … “See demons don’t get it. They see … you,” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “and- I dunno, the panda bears, I guess. And they write you off as weak. They figured out their mistake too late …” Sam interjected, “-That she’s actually a freaking badass and she knows her way around a firearm?” She laughed outright at that, “Yeah, not so much! I’m just glad Dean left the safety off when he dropped it.” Sam stood, chuckling, and he and Dean helped (Y/N) to her feet. Sam made a quick call to anonymously report suspicious noises coming from that address, and they all more or less limped out to the impala.

(Y/N) sat on the hospital bed trying not to nod off again. The nurse had assured her that her parents were on their way and she was determined not to miss being able to see them when they got there. A nice EMT had treated the worst of her wounds from when she’d been thrown across the room. It had been mostly mild cuts and bruises, but they still had insisted on bringing her here. The police had swooped in next and asked her a barrage of questions, but Sam and Dean had made sure she had her story straight before she made the call: ‘She had been kidnapped three weeks ago, they were keeping her in an abandoned church. She’d heard screaming and gunshots and decided to escape in the chaos.’ The last she’d seen of the guys, they were sitting in the parked impala watching to make sure everything went smoothly when the ambulance and police came to pick her up. She knew they weren’t planning on going too far. They were concerned about the demons that had escaped; that any or all of them might decide to exact some kind of vengeance with her as the target. She wasn’t worried. She had both brothers’ numbers in case anything went wrong, she had the sigils on her arm, and she had a salt shaker by the bed. The nurse had thought her request weird, but had humored her. Her eyes closed of their own volition. Maybe she would catch a little more sleep before her parents came. She supposed she could wait to find out what their reaction would be when she told them she was getting a tattoo.

#spn fanfic #spn fic #canon fic #reader insert #sam and dean #idk how to tag this #feedback welcome

57 notes · View notes

battleshidge · 7 years

Text

plight of the pizza

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Shidge (Shiro/Pidge) Rating: Teen and up; for language. Summary: Cooking was like chemistry, which she’d aced last semester, so she figured that it would be easy to whip something up. You followed a specific formula and would achieve edible success–simple. And even simpler was putting a monstrosity called a frozen meal in the oven at the right temperature and waiting for it to be done. Piece of cake, she thought.

Only...it wasn't.

Author’s Notes: From the prompt Character A tries, and fails, to cook dinner for Character B, resulting in a hoard of takeout food and a promise to never use the stove again for @shiroganeholt and @ohdearkamiwhy, who asked for it way back in like, August. I’m sorry it took me so long! I never forgot, I just got distracted and busy and here it is.

I hope you guys enjoy it!

Also on Ao3!

(shiroganeholt and ohdearkamiwhy, if you guys have Ao3 accounts, if you could comment or message and tell me the name so I can edit the Ao3 post to be gifted to you guys, I’d appreciate it!)

It had been a while since Pidge had tinkered in the kitchen.

She was a very technical sort of person. Machines were kind of her thing. But cooking was like chemistry, which she’d aced last semester, so she figured that it would be easy to whip something up. You followed a specific formula and would achieve edible success–simple. And even simpler was putting a monstrosity called a frozen meal in the oven at the right temperature and waiting for it to be done. Piece of cake, she thought.

Only...it wasn’t.

As the open oven allowed the plumes of dark grey smoke to disperse, Pidge stared blankly at what was supposed to be pizza. The center looked like it might conceivably pass as food, but the edges were blackened and the pepperonis were curling in on themselves, shriveled and much darker than she thought they should be.

She spared a glance for the smoke detector, abandoned and in pieces on the counter. That horrendous beeping would have given her a headache, if she’d let it persist. So she’d disassembled the device, because that was something she could fix later.

The pizza, however, looked like a loss.

“Holy crow,” she murmured, pulling the pan out and sliding it onto the stovetop, biting her lip. “What did I do wrong?”

She had set the timer for fourteen minutes, just like the box had said. And she was certain she’d had the right temperature. It should have been as easy as following the instructions on the box, so where could she have possibly gone wrong?

Pidge didn’t exactly have time to right this wrong. Shiro would be back to the apartment in about ten minutes, give or take a few, and would start asking her questions. Why does it smell like something burnt? he’d probably start with, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her. And despite how easy fibbing to her friends was, usually as a joke, she couldn’t do the same to Shiro. She’d probably end up spilling that she was trying to surprise him because they’d officially been dating for six months.

Six months.

Even now, it seemed impossible. Six months ago, she’d been a college freshman that was hopelessly head over heels for the teacher’s assistant in her Altean history class, and now here she was, a sophomore whose feelings had long since been reciprocated. It was almost unreal.

Shiro was in the middle of his obligatory student teaching semester, preparing for his career and life as a history teacher, and he’d been asked by his classroom mentor to attend a faculty meeting after school. He’d accepted, of course, because he liked to be useful and he liked to be prepared. And so Pidge had taken it upon herself to fix them dinner tonight, in celebration of six months together and the progress he had made.

Burnt pizza didn’t make for a good celebratory dinner, though.

After a few more moments of staring, wondering what she’d done wrong, Pidge pulled out her phone. If there was anyone who could help her come up with something in the next five minutes, it was the infallible Hunk. So she scrolled through her contacts and found his name in record time, pressing the Call button and lifting the phone to her ear impatiently.

“Hey, Pidge, what’s up?” he asked after the third ring, his tone familiar and warm.

“I need advice,” she said brusquely, prodding her catastrophic attempt at cooking with a spatula. “I’m trying to make something for Shiro for dinner and I burned this stupid pizza. He’s supposed to be home in about five minutes. Is there anything I can at least start in that timespan that might hide the smell of the burnt pizza and be ready pretty soon after he gets here?”

Hunk remained silent for a few moments, and she heard a few clanking sounds. He was probably cooking, too. But there was chatter in the background, so maybe he was at the store or something instead?

“How did you mess up on a pizza? I doubt you made it from scratch–sorry, Pidge–so how did you misread the oven instructions? Nevermind, I’m not sure I want to know, really. Um...do you have pasta? Pasta is pretty simple. Put some tomato sauce in a pan and let it simmer on low heat while you boil water and a dash of salt and put the pasta noodles in. Even you shouldn’t be able to mess that up.”

“Hey–”

“–sorry, sorry. Anyway, just let the sauce simmer for a bit on low while you boil the pasta. Easy-peasy. Even Lance can do it, so it should be easy enough for you to handle.”

A muffled, “Hey, I heard that!” sounded from the other end of the line, but Pidge merely snorted and focused on Hunk’s voice.

“Hush, Lance! But Pidge, as long as you keep the pasta from sticking to the sides of the pan while you boil it, you should be fine. Don’t overcook it, or it will be mush. But you’d have to let it boil for ages to get to that point, so you should be fine.”

“Somehow I’m not sensing much confidence,” she drawled, lips folding into a frown as she held the phone on her shoulder to rummage for the pasta in the cabinets.

“You burned a pizza, Pidge. One that you just have to put in the oven for like, fifteen minutes at the right temperature,” Hunk’s tone was flat. “Sorry if that doesn’t lend me confidence about your skills in the kitchen. Anyway, while the sauce is simmering, you should be able to add some cu–ow, Lance, what the hell–cumin, just for a bit of flavor. Personal family recipe, don’t tell Mom I told you that!”

Cinnamon? Pidge thought, Is that what he said? I didn’t think cinnamon went in pasta, but I’m a terrible cook.

“Yeah, yeah. Anything else you can tell me?”

“I’ve told you pretty much everything. It’s up to you. Make sure the pasta has enough water and a dash of salt, stir the sauce occasionally to make sure it doesn’t stick, and you should make it through. Lance is trying to run me over with the shopping cart now, though, so I’ve got to finish shopping. Later, Pidge! Good luck with the pasta!”

“Thanks, Hunk. I’ll let you know how it turns out,” she managed. “Later!”

The phone clicked into silence soon after, and she let out a disgruntled huff of air through her nose.

Formulas and calculations she could do with ease. Mixing chemicals and using a bunsen burner was nothing. But somehow cooking was proving to be a lot harder than expected.

With one last sigh, she gathered all that Hunk had told her she needed and got some water in the pan she’d be cooking the pasta in. Pidge placed it on one of the burners, turning it on to let the water start heating up. For a moment she paused, trying to remember whether she needed to wait for the water to start boiling before she dumped the pasta in. After a few moments, though, Pidge decided that it wouldn’t hurt and did so anyway. She poured some tomato sauce into another pan and placed it on an adjacent burner, turning up the heat to let the sauce start simmering. Shiro was supposed to be back any minute now, so after a moment she decided to turn the heat almost all the way up.

“I hope this is right,” she murmured, glancing at the ruined pizza on the cabinet. She started to step towards it to clear it away, but then remembered Hunk’s other tips and turned to reach for the seasoning instead.

She dashed some salt into the pasta pan. She wasn’t sure how much she needed, so she gave it three or four good shakes just to be safe before reaching for the cinnamon. With that in hand, Pidge actually hesitated for a few moments. It still sounded so weird, but who was she to judge? Hunk had said it was his family’s secret ingredient, and he was nicer than Lance. He wouldn’t play a trick on her to ruin her pasta.

After two shakes of the cinnamon, which she mixed into the tomato sauce, Pidge stirred both pans a little before moving to deal with her earlier mess.

Tentatively, Pidge reached out to touch the pizza pan. It had already cooled enough for her to hold the metal, and she reached for the metal spatula in order to lift the pizza and discard it.

The only problem, however, was that it was stuck.

“What the hell?” she murmured aloud, brow furrowing. Pidge redoubled her effort, wiggling the spatula and working it under the edge of the burnt crust. If she’d expected it to get easier after that, she was wrong, because she had to continue wiggling to get under the pizza. And when she was able to flip some of it over, she saw that the entire bottom was black.

Pidge groaned.

Muttering to herself, a string of swears and admonishments, she continued to pry the blackened crust from the metal pan. It was a slow process and she grew gradually more agitated as she worked.

Until she glanced over to the stove as the first drops of water rolled down the side of the pasta pan.

“Fuck,” she cursed again, abandoning the pizza and slipping back to the pasta on the stove. Pidge stirred it quickly, noting with disdain how a few noodles were sticking to the bottom and sides of her pan. “Fuck,” she repeated, trying to gently scrape the pieces away from the edges. Once satisfied, she glanced at the sauce, gave it a quick stir and grimacing when it felt like some of it had already been sticking to the pan. But as long as it was edible, she could count the endeavor as at least partially successful and not a disaster.

Pidge returned to prying the pizza from its pan, depositing the ruins in the trashcan that she had pulled over. There was nothing else she could do with it. Even strays wouldn’t have been able to eat that. It was so burnt it was probably poisonous. Not to mention that she didn’t even know if dogs or cats could safely eat pepperoni or cheese or any of that stuff. Some of the simplest things had the worst side effects, sometimes.

She noticed the smell next.

Something...burning? Burnt? Pidge paused, leaning forward to sniff at the last few pieces of pizza on the pan. And, once she’d deduced that the new stench wasn’t coming from her first ruined meal, her head whipped towards the stove again and she dropped the pan and spatula on the counter as she moved over to it.

She stirred the pasta–a little bit of sticking, but so far, so good.

Furrowing her brow, Pidge started to stir the sauce only to find that it was being stubborn. When she forcefully scraped some of the food from the pan, she stared blankly at it for a minute.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, turning off the burner and staring at the lumps of black in the sauce. “Of all fucking days for me to mess up,” she muttered angrily, rummaging for some serving dishes in the cabinet. Once she had placed her dish of choice on the cabinet, she started to scoop the pasta out into it.

Halfway through, she realized that she could have used a strainer, but the scooping was mindless and helped her vent some of her frustrations, so she continued anyway. Doing it like this also helped her gauge how done her noodles were. There were some with dark spots, and she assumed those had been stuck to the sides, and some that looked...rubbery? But she tried one, and it was at least edible, if a little salty.

She turned, then, to the travesty that was her tomato sauce. The pungent smell of burning food was even more pronounced now and she wrinkled her nose as she reached for the pan.

“Dammit,” was the swear of choice this time. And then Pidge carefully tilted the pan over the pasta, pouring out what remained of the tomato sauce–or at least what still looked edible–before returning the pan to the stove and sighing, staring at her concoction. Pidge felt incredibly weary as she fished out a fork, and a little more than nervous. She knew her own prowess in the kitchen, and she knew better than to test her luck on most days. But today wasn’t most days.

As soon as she’d managed to spear a piece of pasta with her fork, dragging it through the meagre drizzle of sauce for good measure, she took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth.

The first thing she noticed was that it tasted burnt. She wrinkled her nose and kept her eyes closed while she tried to decipher the rest of the flavors that were assaulting her tastebuds. There was too much salt–that’s what she tasted next. And then...cinnamon. Of all things, cinnamon. It didn’t work with the sauce, it was extra awful with the salt, and Pidge felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

She forced herself to swallow and slammed her fork down.

The next course of action had her pulling her phone to her ear, fighting back the frustrated tears, as she waited for the call to connect.

“Pidge! How did it go?” Hunk’s voice was carefully level, and it only made her eyes burn more.

Softly, grudgingly, Pidge admitted, “I fucked up again.”

Her voice was a lot smaller than she’d hoped, and it cracked, and she knew if it had been Lance she never would have lived that particular moment down. But this was Hunk–kind, benevolent Hunk.

As much as she hated to admit it, though, she was calling to get the warm rush of feeling that his comforting skills always provided. He was the best person to go to–aside from Shiro and her family, of course–when she was feeling particularly down. So she listened as he hummed softly in understanding and started to reassure her with little sentences–”It’s okay, maybe next time. I’ll teach you sometime, Pidge. Don’t worry about it. Just clean everything up and wash the dishes and everything will be okay”–and she felt her frustration start to ease.

“Pidge?” the voice rang through the hall, decidedly not belonging to the man on the phone, and she cursed. Hunk cut off in the middle of comforting her.

“What’s wrong, Pidge?”

“Thanks for the help, Hunk. Shiro’s home, so I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure thing, Pidge. You’ll be fine. Later!”

“Bye.”

She had just hung the phone up when Shiro poked his head into the kitchn, sniffing.

“Something smells burnt,” he observed, not unkindly, as he stepped into the room. He observed the scene as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her overlarge hoodie and failed to meet his eyes. He saw what was left of the pizza on the pan first, and with a glance she could see that he was putting the pieces together when he spotted the pasta.

Without asking anymore questions, and before Pidge could speak, he stepped forward and swept her into a hug, spinning her around.

“Wha–Shiro?” she asked, weakly, as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I thought you told me you couldn’t cook,” he said cheerfully, releasing her as he looked over at the pasta.

“I can’t,” she muttered, busy staring at her socks. “I messed up.”

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Shiro offered, gesturing to the meagre serving of pasta she’d dished up. He reached for the fork and she moved to stop him, opening her mouth to argue but unable to find the words to say.

Finally, as he looked at her inquisitively, Pidge settled for, “It tastes burnt. And I seasoned it wrong.”

“Well, you tried to cook for us, so the least I can do is try it.”

Shiro said it easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. With a reluctant sigh, she moved to let him pick up her discarded fork and watched with a bit of guilt as he took a bite. At first he seemed relatively unfazed, and then she watched his eyebrows rise in confusion. He chewed a little more slowly, and realized he was trying to process the taste information he was receiving.

He swallowed after a few minutes and cleared his throat a little. “That was...interesting.”

“I told you I messed up,” Pidge decided that her socks were more entertaining yet again. She did spare him a glance, though, and then held his gaze.

“Well, that’s nothing that a little bit of practice can’t fix,” he said optimistically, smiling down at her as he placed the fork back in its previous position. He opened his mouth to speak again but paused, brow furrowing, as he sniffed. Confused, Pidge followed suit and found herself wrinkling her nose.

Her eyes trailed, in horror, down to the burner she thought she’d turned off.

“Fuck,” she repeated for probably the hundredth time, lunging around her boyfriend to click the burner off.

The burnt sauce in the pan had bubbled, and after a few moments Pidge realized, with horror, that the non-stick Teflon was bubbled and warped, not the sauce.

“Oh no,” she breathed, eyes prickling again. “Shit. Fuck. I mean...shit.”

A warm, heavy hand descended upon her shoulder, and she didn’t dare look up at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Pidge, I’ve got another pan that same size. Your mother makes sure I have plenty of cookware, remember?”

“Because she knows I can’t cook,” Pidge mumbled numbly.

“And because she’s a kind woman who likes to make sure you and all your friends are well taken care of,” Shiro added smoothly, slipping his arm around her shoulders as he moved the ruined pan to the sink to cool. “So for now, why don’t we order some thai and watch some SyFy movies while you promise me not to mess around with the kitchen while I’m not at home. Okay?”

Pidge nudged Shiro in the ribs, snorting as she ducked out from under his arm. His methods were different than Hunk’s, of course, but they could never go wrong with thai and SyFy.

“Well, sure. You order the thai–I’ve gotta go grab something real quick.”

Shiro quirked an eyebrow at her, questioningly, but was already pulling his phone from the pocket of his black slacks. She beamed and dragged herself up on her tiptoes using his tie–which also pulled him down a little–to press a kiss to his cheek. She mouthed I’ll be right back as he smiled and pulled his phone up to his ear, and then she slipped into the bedroom, where her backpack was tossed haphazardly in the middle of the bed.

It took her only a few minutes, but she finally pulled out the box. It rattled and she grinned, turning and making her way back down the apartment hallway. She reached the living room from one direction just as Shiro stepped out of the kitchen, and he smiled at her again.

“The thai will be here in about forty minutes or so,” he announced, sliding his phone onto the wooden coffee table. “Now...what is it you had to rush off to do?”

“I went to get this,” she responded, crossing the distance between them to offer him the metal box in her hands. He glanced at it, then back to the tentative but excited grin on her face, and accepted it even though there was confusion written all over his face.

“What is it?” he asked slowly, reaching for the latch.

“You’ll see,” Pidge retorted simply. With a chuckle, Shiro opened the box and started to look through the bits and bobs inside. When he glanced back up at her, she found the words tumbling from her mouth without bidding. “I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I know you’ve been saying you wanted to get your prosthetic fixed and we already had the list of parts we needed, so I talked to dad about getting them for you. All the wires we need to remodel the inside should be there, plus some upgraded components, since you refused the last time the Garrison offered. And it’s just...well, it’s not an anniversary because those are annual, but it’s been six months now and I just thought I should try to do something for you because you’ve done a lot for me, and–”

Her words were muffled by his warm chest, and she sank into the hug, wrapping her arms around him and forgetting whatever she was planning to say next. She’d long lost her rehearsed speech, anyway, and had just been babbling.

“Thank you, Katie,” his tone was soft, and she squeezed him even closer.

“Thank you,” her voice was a lot smaller than she’d expected, but it was enough.

“I–” Shiro started, but the obnoxious clanging of the apartment’s doorbell cut him off. He extricated himself from the hug with an apologetic grin–it wasn’t even his fault, he didn’t have to feel bad about it–and moved to answer the door.

“Hi, thanks for ordering Hunan’s,” a familiar delivery woman stood there, offering Shiro a brown paper bag with a bright smile.

“I, uh, didn’t order Chinese,” Shiro offered her an awkward grin, and she laughed.

“Oh, I know. Your friend Hunk came to the shop and ordered it for you in person, and he already paid for it,” she pushed the bag into Shiro’s arms. “It’s your usual, anyway. You’ve got good friends, don’tcha?” with another laugh, she waved, “You guys have a good night!”

“Th-thanks,” Shiro leaned out the door, watching the delivery lady leave, and Pidge stood in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded, as Shiro turned around with the Hunan’s bag in his arms.

It smelled amazing after the concoctions Pidge had ruined.

“Well, I guess we’ll have Chinese and thai?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess,” Shiro shook his head with a grin. “I’m going to have to pay Hunk back for this.”

Pidge snorted, reaching up to unroll the bag in Shiro’s arms and peer in at the three boxes. One would be their fried rice, and the other two would be their normal entrées. She could smell them. Satisfied, she dropped back to her feet and rocked on her heels with a very pointed, “Hunk will never take your money.”

“I know,” he sighed, “but I still have to try.”

“Well, before that, you should probably change out of your nice clothes into something comfy. Especially if we’re going to chow down and watch SyFy movies!”

Shiro agreed, and with a grin, pushed the paper bag into her arms. “You get everything set up in here, then, and I’ll go get changed.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she let out an exaggerated groan and dragged out her spoken, “Fiiiiine.”

As he disappeared down the hallway and into the bedroom, Pidge deposited the takeout on the table, pulling it from the bag and rejoicing when she found the chopsticks at the bottom, as well as some plastic cutlery. It wouldn’t do to dirty any more dishes tonight, after all. And then she went about finding all of the SyFy movies they had, whether on DVD, Blu-Ray, or on the Roku.

One of the things she looked forward to most about their SyFy movie nights was the intense debate over which ones they’d watch.

Ten minutes later, they had just settled on a movie–Something Beneath–when the doorbell rang again. They shared a confused look, but then Pidge shrugged and got up to answer the door.

When she opened the door, she saw another delivery person...but he wasn’t wearing the thai restaurant’s uniform. Instead he was wearing Pizza My Heart’s uniform.

“Can I help you?” she asked tentatively.

“Is this where Shee-ro and Podge live?” he asked, trying to read a messy scrawl on his notepad. Pidge winced.

“I’m Pidge,” she answered instead, “and we didn’t order a pizza.”

“Nah, it says here that your friend Lens–or is it Lanny? Laney?–anyway, your friend ordered you a large pepperoni pizza. Here you go,” he handed her the box and, without looking back, turned and said, “Have a nice night!”

“Lance?” she said blankly at his back, but he didn’t hear. And then, when she stepped back inside and closed the door, Shiro first looked shocked at the box in her hand. The expression soon morphed into one of amusement.

“Let me guess, Lance?”

“Unless we have a friend named Lens, Lanny, or Laney, then yes, it was probably Lance,” she snorted, recovering from her own surprise to bring the pizza to the table. “And now we’ll have Chinese, pizza, and thai to eat while we watch some questionable cinematic masterpieces.”

“Hear, hear,” Shiro deadpanned, but they shared a laugh as she slipped back onto the couch next to him. He hit play on the movie and handed Pidge her Chinese entrée before grabbing a slice of pizza himself, with a wink. He leaned back, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing another soft kiss to her temple, before focusing his attention forward.

And if they were mostly full when their thai actually arrived, it didn’t faze them too much. Whatever they didn’t eat would serve them both as lunch and possibly dinner tomorrow.

“Love you,” Pidge murmured warmly into her pad thai, curled up against her boyfriend’s side as the credits rolled and he moved to start the next movie.

“Love you, too,” Shiro responded affectionately around the slice of pizza dangling from his mouth, one arm around her shoulders and the other fiddling with the remote.

19 notes · View notes

makeover-blog1 · 4 years

Text

William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, Star Trek TOS, “The City on the Edge of Forever,” 1967

Star Trek (The Original Series) Season 1, Episode 28, "The City on the Edge of Forever" Original U.S. broadcast date: April 6, 1967

Synopsis, via Wikipedia: In the episode, after Doctor Leonard McCoy (DeForest Kelley) travels back in time and changes history, Kirk (William Shatner) and Spock (Leonard Nimoy) follow him to correct the timeline. In doing so, Kirk falls in love with Edith Keeler (Joan Collins), but realizes that in order to save his future, he must allow her to die.

Guest stars in this episode included British actress Joan Collins.

Some bio info about Collins, via Wikipedia: Dame Joan Henrietta Collins, DBE (b. 23 May 1933) is an English actress, author and columnist. Born in Paddington, west London, and brought up in Maida Vale, Collins grew up during the Second World War. After making her stage debut in "A Doll’s House" at the age of nine, she trained as an actress at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) in London. She then signed an exclusive contract with the Rank Organisation and appeared in various British films. At the age of 22, Collins headed to Hollywood and landed sultry roles in several popular films, including "The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing" (1955) and "Rally Round the Flag, Boys!" (1958). While she continued to make films in the US and the UK throughout the 1960s, she also guest starred in an episode of Star Trek in 1967 named "The City on the Edge of Forever", as Edith Keeler. Her career languished in the 1970s, when she appeared in a number of horror flicks. Near the end of the decade, she starred in two softcore pornographic films based on best-selling novels by her younger sister Jackie Collins: "The Stud" (1978) and its sequel "The Bitch" (1979). She began appearing on stage, playing the title role in the 1980 British revival of "The Last of Mrs. Cheyney," and later had a lead role in the 1990 revival of Noël Coward’s "Private Lives." In 1981, she landed the role of Alexis Carrington Colby, the vengeful ex-wife of John Forsythe’s character, in the 1980s television soap opera "Dynasty," winning a Golden Globe Award for Best Actress in 1982; she is credited for the success around "Dynasty," which was the most-watched television show in the US during the 1984-85 broadcast season. Collins also received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1983 for career achievement. In 2015, Collins was made a Dame by Queen Elizabeth II for services to charity.

Trivia from this episode, via IMDb: Harlan Ellison’s original script was extensively rewritten by D.C. Fontana at Gene Roddenberry’s behest. Ellison was very unhappy about this, even though the episode won numerous awards (including Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation) and is regarded as one of the classics. Gene L. Coon is mainly responsible for the small comical elements of the story, including the famous "rice picker" scene, which Harlan Ellison reportedly hated. Widely considered by both fans and critics to be the best episode of the series and is listed as one of the "Ten Essential Episodes" of Star Trek (1966) in the 2008 reference book "Star Trek 101," by Paula M. Block and Terry J. Erdmann. This was the most expensive episode produced during the first season, with a budget of $245,316, and also the most expensive episode of the entire series, except the two pilots. The average cost of a first season episode was around $190,000. Also, production went one and half days over schedule, resulting in eight shooting days instead of the usual six. Desilu Stage 11, usually not a Star Trek (1966) stage, was used for filming the mission interiors. The stage was occupied by My Three Sons (1960) previously, but as that series was moved to another location, it became available for the crew to film. Director Joseph Pevney couldn’t complete all scenes scheduled to be filmed at 40 Acres on schedule. However, the backlot was already booked for filming by The Andy Griffith Show (1960), so the arrival of McCoy to the past and Rodent’s death had to be filmed on a studio alleyway behind Desilu Stage 10. One of only two times in the original series a "curse word" is heard, when Kirk says, "Let’s get the hell out of here" at the very end. The second is in Star Trek: The Doomsday Machine (1967), when Kirk sees the Enterprise being drawn into combat, he says; "[What] the hell’s going on?". When William Shatner and Joan Collins are walking together on the street, they pass in front of a shop with the name Floyd’s Barber Shop clearly painted on the window. This is the same Floyd’s Barber Shop which is often seen on The Andy Griffith Show (1960), adjacent to the sheriff’s office, in the town of Mayberry. The footage seen through the time portal is, for the most part, lifted from old Paramount films. The alley in which Kirk steals the clothing from the fire-escape is the same alley seen in Star Trek: Miri (1966), in which Spock and the guards have debris dumped on them by the children. Spock refers to the technology of the time as "stone knives and bearskin". The same phrase would be later used by Captain Janeway in Star Trek: Voyager: Future’s End (1996). In one scene in this episode, a poster can be seen advertising a boxing event at Madison Square Garden featuring "Kid McCook" vs. "Mike Mason". For Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Past Tense: Part II (1995), scenic artists Doug Drexler and Michael Okuda created a near replica of this boxing poster for a scene set in 1930 San Francisco; the DS9 poster features the same boxers, and says that it is "their first rematch since Madison Square Garden". With regards to this episode, Joan Collins has stated, "To this day, people still want to talk about that episode – some remember me for that more than anything else I’ve done. I am amazed at the enduring popularity of Star Trek and particularly of that episode." Collins adds, "At the time, none of us would have predicted the longevity of the show. I couldn’t be more pleased – or more honoured – to be part of Star Trek history." Ms. Collins’ memory of her Trek experience seems hazy, however. In her 1985 autobiography, "Past Imperfect" (p. 248), she makes a few errors regarding the episode: for example, in addition to the common mistake of referring to Mr. Spock as Dr. Spock, she identifies her character as Edith Cleaver instead of Edith Keeler, and she also claims that Spock, not Kirk, allowed her character to be killed – a plot point that was not in the version of the script that was actually shot. Most significantly, she claims Edith tried to "prove to the world that Hitler was a nice guy." Double-exposures allowed Kirk and Spock to leap out of brick walls in this episode. The Guardian of Forever was designed by Art Director Rolland M. Brooks. Normally, set design was the purview of his colleague Matthew Jeffreys, but due to illness, Brooks took over his chores for the Guardian. When Jefferies returned to his duties and saw the donut-shaped set piece for the first time, he reportedly exclaimed, "What the hell is this?!", according to D.C. Fontana. Special effects artist Jim Rugg was responsible for the light effects for the Guardian. When asked in February 26, 1992 interview whether the makers of this episode consciously intended it to have the contemporaneous anti-Vietnam-war movement as subtext, associate producer Robert H. Justman replied, "Of course we did." This is the first mention of Nazi Germany in Star Trek. A race which adopted a Nazi-style regime also appears in Star Trek: Patterns of Force (1968). The theme is reprised in later shows: on Star Trek: Voyager: The Killing Game (1998) and Star Trek: Voyager: The Killing Game: Part II (1998), where Hirogen take over USS Voyager and use the holodeck to recreate Nazi Germany, and then in Star Trek: Enterprise: Zero Hour (2004), and Star Trek: Enterprise: Storm Front (2004) and Star Trek: Enterprise: Storm Front (2004), when agents from the Temporal Cold War send Captain Archer and the Enterprise NX-01 back to the Second World War.

******** Fair Use Doctrine; if you use this photo, please provide attribution credit; not for commercial use (see Creative Commons license).

Posted by classic_film on 2018-03-05 19:10:03

Tagged: , William Shatner , Leonard Nimoy , Star Trek , television , actor , 1960s , sixties , 1967 , science fiction , sci-fi , TV , nostalgic , nostalgia , acteur , akteur , man , vintage , retro , classic , color , entertainment , America , United States , Hollywood , American , USA , añejo , época , aktor , celebrity , ephemeral , old , clásico , ropa , kleidung , clothing , clothes , fashion , technology , jahrgang , alt , oll

The post William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, Star Trek TOS, “The City on the Edge of Forever,” 1967 appeared first on Good Info.

0 notes

hangreenleaf-blog · 7 years

Text

handfuls of snippets up to 7/8

idk what day this was but it was earliest in this series:

this one’s violent.

I was in a school-like building that got hit by a tornado. The building itself had electric blue tinted windows, lilac purple accents, and ivory walls decorated with a bunch of very dark cork boards. I was in fetal position in the hallway. The tornado itself felt like a laser going across my back, and it made a clean tear through my clothing horizontally in the center of my back and left an edgy scar. To get to safety, a bunch of adults very logically took us to a water park with a lot of stuff in it. In this water park there was this game where you had to arrange pegs and chairs in a very certain way as to not infuriate the principle of the school. She didn’t like it when you misplaced chairs. I remember playing with 2 dudes from high school, their names having assonance with Loo Megley, and Horton Jam-Til-done. Loo was hanging out, talking about sperm whales and discussing different strategies alien militaries might take if we don’t quit dumping mutant kelp into our oceans with my old science teacher’s name that rhymes with Mrs. Schtarish. They both mentioned wanting to try smoking it. Aorta was doing his best to infuriate the principle by arranging the chairs to resemble SU’s Garnet’s face, and she brought out a base ball bat to hit his chairs with. She accidentally swung too far back and hit me in the teeth and I lost my two front ones, the ones adjacent to those being severely cracked, and my tongue was severed so that it was now forked. I was gonna get ready to launch some bloody spit on the unapologetic principle’s polished white shoes, but I swallowed my blood and that’s how I woke myself up, because I also did this physically.

another day:

I was roaming the streets of a town that had a blend of French and Brazilian culture. I watched a shoddily dressed kid make a transaction on her own, very proudly, to buy an ice cream cone that held a gallon of raspberry ice cream. Impressed, I shook the girl’s hand and asked her how she was able to achieve the funds to pay for 700 dollars worth of ice cream. She asked me if I wanted to meet the guy who gave her the money, and I was like sure why not. We walked through a corn maze, except the corn was crimson, and the dirt was blue. Then a mansion suddenly appeared, and had it not been for my excellent dream reflexes, I probably would have slammed real hard into the wall and broke all my teeth. Attached to this mansion was a boutique shop where they sold art and clothing and other odd things. On display was a very intricate depiction of my roommate’s humanoid bird OC wearing a peacock cape, in her style. The background of the piece was green. The feathers were yellow with their typical blue circles, with orange accents. The figure was drawn to be crawling downward like a bat. I was studying it so hard, I lost track of the kid. An exceedingly flamboyantly dressed man wearing a pastel green and purple suit and masquerade mask came up next to me and seemed to be equally impressed by this piece. We discussed the exquisite aspects to this piece of art and became fast friends. He told the owner of the shop that he’d buy it, and it was sold for 2 million dollars. The man turned to me and said “if you didn’t know me better you’d probably think I’m gay, and you’d be RIGHT!” Flustered, I said that I didn’t assume anything, but I’m happy that he was comfortable coming out with such gusto. Then he asked me if I’d like to have some tea and pizza with him, and I very much obliged. He was very excited about his new purchase because he intended to hang the piece on his spiral stair case where it would appear that this character would be skittering down his spiral stair case toward his intricate tree fountain with that cape flowing behind it in utmost grace.

another day:

I fell out of a tree in Korea and they called the ambulance even though I was completely okay. When the emergency team arrived they were all like GENCHEONAHYO (are you okay)? And I was like yeah yeah i’m great, just don’t take me to the got dang hospital pls. And then they started doing surgery on my body right then and there and gave me a prosthetic peg leg that I could heat up to use as a branding weapon in case I needed it. I decided to test it on a basketball, and I roundhouse kicked that sucker. Unfortunately the ball melted all over my new leg and the doctors were devastated that I just wasted 30 thousand dollars of Korean government money.

0 notes

thedramafilesblog-blog · 7 years

Text

Appearing before the Dramacourt: Hwarang: Poet Warrior Youth Eps 19 and 20 (we’re doing a combo post for the finale because we are just so done with this drama!)

***If this is your first time browsing The Drama Files, please read The Rules section first for our reviewing and rating system***

Issues:

Whether Jwi Dwi and Sun Woo had a bromance at all.

Whether the Hwarang was actually a cameo in EP 19.

Whether Sun Woo’s Dad’s motivation for leaving him is believable.

Whether the whole (non) fight for the throne was believable.

The Rule(s):

No, I don’t think so! At least not to the extent of Soo Ho and Ban Ryu.

Probably

No!

Not really.

Application:

RedRosette J: Oh thank god this is over now. Jubiemon and I are actually so so thankful that this drama is over. As expected the wrap up was done very very poorly with some seriously sloppy writing and production. Episode 19 was basically a waste of time. Even if it hadn’t been there and you had just watched episode 20, it would have made sense. They were basically talking about the same things as they had in the last five episodes. To sum it up in one sentence, it’s basically everyone freaking out that Ji Dwi was the real King. Ok? Don’t waste your time watching it. Episode 20 was an even bigger shit show. I feel like because the writing was so sloppy, a lot of the characters had their issues resolved off screen for them to get to the end. Ban Ryu’s personal dilemmas with his father were resolved off screen, the characters mourning Han Sung’s death was resolved off screen, Dan Se becoming an official Hwarang was done off screen. What is this? Anyone can write dramas like this. Ugh. Even in the final few moments, the wrap up was so so sloppy. I was not excited that Ji Dwi forgave his mother so quickly and they never even really discussed what wrong she had done him. I was so mad that Ban Ryu and Soo Yeon’s story never really got their “happy ending” and like no one cares about Aro so whatever.

Jubiemon J: I think this drama is one of those rare one where you feel like nothing significant has happened throughout the whole drama. At the end of the day, I don’t really remember many highlights. The only highlights were some bromance between Banryu and Sooho and Banryu’s romantic relationship with Aro’s friend. Episode 19 . . . I can barely remember what that was about; that’s how bad it was. Episode 20 was super, super rushed to get to some happy ending. The sudden twist for Sunwoo to be King and then him giving it up all in one episode? Such a waste of time. Everything was just so, so rushed for ep 20!

Yes. Everyone knows this.

Yes, yes, please move on already.

Clothes maketh a man

Why leave us hanging? -.-

When did this happen?

Issue 1: Whether Jwi Dwi and Sun Woo had a bromance at all.

RedRosette J: Not really. They tried to become friends but the whole “are you king or not?” situation got in the way and I feel like they never really overcame that, unlike Soo Ho and Ban Ryu who actually did of lot of positive work towards overcoming their problems. I found it difficult to get on board their bromance, especially since it had taken a back seat in the last few episodes. So, no I don’t think they had a bromance. They might have had a friendship-adjacent situation, but definitely not a bromance.

Jubiemon J: No. I really don’t think so. I felt like Banryu and Soo Ho had a deeper friendship and even Yeowool and Hansung had a more believable one. They bickered here and there and then Ji Dwi was kind of nice to Sunwoo because Ji Dwi liked Aro. Then they got into more arguments and what? Nothing much at all. (I have to say for the last episode when Sunwoo cut off Ji Dwi’s bracelet, Ji Dwi was sobbing as if he had been dumped by a girlfriend. Actually I feel like he wasn’t that upset when he realized Aro liked Sunwoo. His crying was kind of funny in this case.)

Not really a bromance

Issue 2: Whether the Hwarang was actually a cameo in EP 19

RedRosette J: So remember how this drama was about the Hwarang boys? Yea in the past few episodes this drama became the “Let’s talk about what it means to be King” drama and the Hwarang took a literal back seat. No I mean literally. They must have had about 2 or 3 minutes of the Hwarang guys in this episode. Not to mention, Minho probably had some scheduling issues, so he was basically non-existent in these two episodes and we never really got to see him and Ban Ryu fully makeup. It’s sad really that the writers got so caught up discussing Kingship that they missed out on important screen time for character development with the amazing supporting cast. What a waste.

Jubiemon J: Yes. We barely saw the other boys and their issues were mostly resolved off screen. Ugh.

Only in it as a grapevine

Issue 3: Whether Sun Woo’s Dad’s motivation for leaving him is believable

RedRosette J: This is just one of those situations where you sit there for a good ten minutes being all “Huh?” Yea. His justification for leaving Sun Woo made absolutely no sense. Like why couldn’t you give the kid a name? It’s not like dumbass Queen who was too busy knowingly drinking poisoned tea would have started a witch hunt to figure out what this kid’s name was! Not to mention, I don’t even think that she knew the kid was alive. They basically cut him out of his dead mother in the physician’s hut. I mean come on! Then he goes on to say that he did it because he didn’t want him to go through the horrible life of a Royal and literally turns around and goes “Yea but now you have to.” What? What was the point of putting the kid through hell and leaving him nameless if you were just going to do to the kid what would have happened had he lived with you? This makes absolutely no sense at all. They should have just not included this birth secret. -_-

Jubiemon J: I always find it hilarious how Sunwoo’s biological father could just parade around the palace and eat great food while the Queen is super shocked how he could get in. The security at the palace . . . so, so questionable. I never really understood why his dad even have to leave when he wasn’t killed the first time he got into the palace. So stupid.

Dumbest reason why. Ugh.

Issue 4: Whether the whole (non) fight for the throne was believable

RedRosette J: I just feel like this whole conflict came out of nowhere. All of sudden, everyone hates Ji Dwi and I just didn’t like how they resolved the problem. He kidnapped Aro, to keep her safe from Ban Ryu’s dad and the story went nowhere. It all felt so stagnant and Sun Woo’s move to #TeamJiDwi was never really explained. I mean, yea he was all for changing the kingdom and what not but I just felt like if they had at least tried to show the character’s progression towards that in the last few episodes it might have been better rather than having it in the last 15 minutes of the show. I just fell flat and seemed like an excuse to end the drama all dramatically. Whatever. I’m just glad its over. I wish I could ask for all these hours I wasted on this drama back……

Jubiemon J: That flashback to explain how Sunwoo decided that Ji Dwi should be King was super confusing. In the beginning we saw that Sunwoo cut off Ji Dwi’s bracelet which led to Ji Dwi sobbing his heart out. Okay . . . then the flashback showed Sunwoo agreeing that he’d support Ji Dwi as King. So that made me wonder why Ji Dwi was even crying at all? At the very end of the drama, the two are “friends”. Okay. So all that Ji Dwi crying really doesn’t make sense! Just what the heck is going on?

Uhhh okayyy…

She gave up? Just like that?

Cool robes brah

This happened.

As did this.

Finally.

Conclusion: Appeal Dismissed.

Rating: 2 = Yell At Everyone Involved (All of them needed to get their act together. This was an epic pre-production fail)

FILE NO: HWARANG: POET-WARRIOR-YOUTH-EPS-19-AND-20 (Final) Appearing before the Dramacourt: Hwarang: Poet Warrior Youth Eps 19 and 20 (we're doing a combo post for the finale because we are just so done with this drama!)

0 notes