#it's a sequence: shock->betrayal->disbelief

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ BEGINNER'S LUCK ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you beat him at his own game on livestream, and it's your first time playing

contents: fem!reader. gojo gets slandered by everyone </3 but he slanders toji. again. vague descriptions of what game you guys are playing, imagine whichever game u want.

author's note: thinkin' about making streamer!gojo a series, stay tuned ...

"so you're gonna want to click that when someone attacks you," satoru informs you, hand on your shoulder. his chin rests on the top of your head as he watches you learn the in's and out's of some game he's well-known for streaming. "no, not that one, silly. the other one."

you groan and make a face at the screen in exasperation. "why do all the buttons look the same?" you grumble, drumming your fingers on the table next to his luminescent keyboard. "you better go easy on me when we go live."

satoru laughs and kisses the top of your head before strolling over to his own plush seat next to you. "don't worry, sweetheart. i will, i promise."

a couple minutes later, satoru starts chatting with his thousands of viewers as you puzzle over how to join his co-op lobby. 

toji-fushiguro: is your gf gonna join? ;)

you hear satoru scoff and see him lean closer to the monitor, squinting at the message that mentions you. "i remember you," satoru huffs, white hair falling into his eyes. "you better stop bringing her up or i'll block you, fishface."

a small laugh bubbles out of your lips as satoru continues addressing the flood of comments asking about you. in his last stream, he had mentioned thinking about teaching you to play the game he got famous for, and his viewers reacted more than enthusiastically. "wow, you guys really want to see me win against my own girlfriend?" satoru tsks, wagging his finger at the screen. "nah, i promised i'd go easy on her. i like her more than you faceless strangers on the internet. i'm looking at you, toji."

"satoru?" you whisper, scrunching up your nose when he immediately turns to you, all thoughts of publicly humiliating toji set aside. "how do i... join a co-op session?"

your boyfriend grins and leans over, clicking a couple buttons in too fast of a sequence for you to follow, and soon enough, your avatar stands next to satoru's. "there!"

"thanks," you huff, watching him slide back into his chair and banter with a couple more comments. and moments later, the game starts. satoru starts out with a play-by-play of his actions, making it really easy for you to piece together the strategy and techniques of the game. to your surprise, you don't die that easily — in fact, you eliminate five other players before retreating to the top of a tree to hide.

a couple kills later, you and satoru are some of the last people on the map. satoru makes quick work of the leftovers before stretching his arms and grinning smugly. "looks like i trained you well, darling," he calls, briefly turning to you and blowing a kiss. "now, where are you? come out and let me catch you, baby."

you hum in response, not bothering to come down from your tree. thankfully, the leaves are thick enough to obscure your avatar from satoru's view, and he walks right past you without even bothering to check. you grin and lean in closer to the computer, aiming at his blissfully unaware avatar and—

"what the fuck?" satoru yelps when his avatar crumbles to the ground. a message noting his death appears on his screen, and he turns to you immediately, betrayal evident on his shocked expression. "you shot me in the back!" he whines, getting up and looking at your screen in disbelief. "how could you?!"

you stick your tongue out at him smugly. "i win!" you cheer, and satoru splutters in disbelief, stumbling over his words as he watches you reap the rewards of your win. "i can't believe you lost to a beginner," you muse, rubbing in your victory. "maybe i should take over your stream," you continue, fluttering your eyelashes at satoru as he gapes at your screen.

"it's only 'cause i went easy on you!" satoru huffs, walking back to his chair and requesting a rematch. "this time, i won't be so nice."

the next game, satoru doesn't say anything, ocean-blue eyes focused on his own screen. from the stream opened in the corner of your monitor, you see his comments blow up.

suguru-geto: wow you're really off your game today

inumaki: he just sucks wdym

toji-fushiguro: deserved 💯

you think about hiding in a tree again, but decide against it. satoru would probably expect you to repeat that strategy, and for all you know, he might have an item that could help him sneak up on you. so you run off to an area that's relatively flat and keep an eye out for other users. you eliminate two before you catch a glimpse of satoru in a tree, but just a second later, he vanishes. 

from the corner of your eye, you see satoru mouth "got you" to his screen, and just in time, you dodge an attack you wouldn't have seen otherwise. somehow, your finger slips, and you shoot without aim. and somehow, your aim was on-point — satoru's avatar falls to its knees once more, and satoru groans in defeat.

"why are you good at this?" satoru grumbles, jumping off his seat and strolling over to wear you sit with a cocky smile on your lips. he all but abandons his stream as he walks over and pokes you childishly. satoru watches you eliminate the last two users, and he scoffs at the emblem of victory that lights up your screen. he kisses you begrudgingly and mutters something about losing a bet, to which you kiss his nose affectionately.

"but really," satoru whines, plopping back down in his chair and swiveling it to face you. "how are you so good?! and shut up suguru," he snipes, leering at the chat. "i'm doing fine, she's just insane! and you too, inumaki. there's a reason all your fans are regulars on my stream! because you suck!" at that, you snicker, spinning around in your own chair and half-watching the chat blow up with more of his viewers' thoughts. 

inumaki: SHUT UP U JUST LOST TO A FIRST TIMER

megumi-fushiguro: real 

"oh, shut it, other-fushiguro," satoru scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the chatbox. "at least my hair doesn't look like how little kids draw grass."

you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the laugh threatening to slip out, but when satoru turns and pouts at you, you can't help it. he's so petty and stubborn, but his eyes soften when he sees how big your smile is. and, not to your surprise, he matches your grin with one of his own. satoru draws a heart in the air with both his index fingers and scrunches up his nose at you, and your heart melts.

"you're so stupid," you mumble, watching him kick his feet like an antsy five year-old. satoru opens his arms in response, and no more than two seconds pass before you're nestled in his lap. he's wearing a light blue hoodie and white sweats, and nothing could make you more comfortable than that in the world. you turn your head and make eye contact with satoru's camera, and smile at the flood of comments on how cute you two look together.

yuuji-itadori: awww its kinda cute

suguru-geto: sooo down bad tbh

toji-fushiguro: you gotta be f*cking kidding me

satoru kisses the side of your face while glaring at the screen, and eventually he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, "wanna end the stream? there's too many people watching and i wanna keep you all to myself."

"hehe, let's do it!"

#osaemu #streamer!gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles

[harveywritings92]

DMC BOYS: They find out you're an assassin [Assassin's creed crossover.]

Dante: It was supposed to be a simple bodyguard job, a bunch of old dudes were having some super villain-ish meeting and one of them hired Dante to guard him, the devil was a little vague on the details all he remembered was the guy saying he'll pay upfront! And like that Dante blocked whatever else was said... 

to sum it up someone wants the old guy dead and Dante just there to make sure he doesn't croak, simple enough he can do that... what he couldn't do was kill the assassin who just killed his client...

She was his girlfriend.

Dante's mind replayed the scene over again: one second the old fat geezer is drinking whiskey and being chatted up by a call-girl, Dante gets distracted by one of the strippers, next thing he knows there's a shriek! the half-devil whipped his head in the direction of the commotion and saw his client looking at another old man in a dark suit in shock, his hand was clamp securely around his neck all in a vain attempt to stop the blood from seeping from his slashed throat he fell forwards and his assailant was revealed standing behind him.

They were a woman in a fav/c hooded jacket with some sort of retractable blade attached to her wrist, he could see tiny smirk grace the woman's lips as she stared across the club room at same old man who Dante assumed was the big boss behind this meeting, and another target on this won's list...

Dante grimaced and took a step forwards only to freeze when the familiar scent of his girlfriend's perfume caught his nose through the blood and booze, then he saw those eyes the half-devil knew them well the second they looked through the crowd at him, he was soon snapped out of his shock by the big boss boss bellowing "Get her! tear that dog apart!?" soon the y/ht woman was surrounded by armed men; Y/n took them down like they were nothing and seemed to be having fun with it before making a quick get away, he last saw her run out through one the exits.

He chased her just in time to see her jump off the roof and land in the back of a dump truck filled with leaves waiting in the street before the truck drove off into the night, needless to say Y/n was in for a major what the hell fest when she got home.

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

Nero: Anger was the first thing that crossed his mind, then betrayal he thought he knew you and that you could trust him with anything, but him finding out you were a killer? that's been fighting a goddam centuries old war, he didn't know what to think! how he found out in the first place was that you had gotten hurt and he was contacted against your wishes.

He demanded to know what happened? you had lied claiming you fell down some stair. "Stairs don't stab peopl-" Nero too a breath "Y/n you better tell me what's going on, or I'm walking out that door and I'm not coming back." you looked at him stunned hoping this was an empty threat but he was dead serious.

You kept your mouth shut but the second he took a step towards the door you sighed "Wait." Nero turned to look at you gestured for him sit down, and like that it was like dam had opened Nero sat and he listened, you told him of the creed, the artifacts of Eden, Abstergo and your involvement the more upset he looked, he silently left you alone claiming he couldn't be here. he had to think, after few hours he came back and paused when he heard a male voice talking to you...

Nero swallowed his inner demon growled hearing an unknown male in your room. "I don't think it's a good idea to be using the animus in your condition." You snapped at the guy the shut up you're gonna be stuck here for a week might as well do something other than mope about destroying the best relationship you've ever had in a while.  "okay, your good go."

Nero silently walked in without either of you noticing him and saw you hooked up to some oculus looking thing and this surfer looking guy looking over a screen, suddenly he jumped back at the sound of a pot shattering. "What the hell?!" you exclaimed as the guy chuckled. " I think ..uh-oh think Amir's wife Esha just found out he's an assassin she not taking it to well" he laughed nervously keeping a hand on his chest as Nero came up behind him to watch the scene, You grumbled something under your breath as a woman angrily shouting in Hindi filled the hospital room as more pottery in thrown.

 "Esha, please calm down, mera Pyaar!*my love*" a man pleaded as the woman snarled. 

"Don't you Mera Pyaar me! Five years we've been married and you kept this from me, How dare you?!"

"Look I didn't want to keep you - [dodges a vase.] please stop throwing things at me!"

"I should've listened to my brother when he said there was off about you! kameene!*Bastard*" *About to throw another vase*

Amir catches her arms  pushes her toward a wall "I was just trying to protect you dammit!" he snapped Esha tried to say she didn't need to be protected because her father but Amir cuts her off. "Can do nothing, these men and their order have been on earth as long as my creed has, they have more power then your family combined and they to destroy free will as we know it..." the door behind them sudden broke down to reveal a British man and few heavily armed guards.

Esha who was still enraged shoved Amir aside, demanding they leave their house did they know who her father was? he'll hear about this- she was cut off by the men laughing at her before dropping the bomb. "On her who do you think told us where to find your husband?" the Indian woman's fell in shock and started shaking her head in disbelief next thing that happened, a cloth was tied around her mouth as the smoke quickly filled the room the sounds of fighting started Amir quickly started dragging his shell shock wife out of their home … 

The sequence ended as you sighed waiting for the next one to load "that is exactly why I didn't want to tell Nero, one slip up, one loose end and the Templars could find him, Kyrie or the kids and use them to hurt me." The y/ht huffed wincing as she tried to pull herself up, and failed nearly falling off the bed luckily a pair a arms caught her and sat her up right.

"urg... Thanks Wally." Y/n's heart sank into her feet when she heard Wally voice on the other side of her room. "uh.. That not me N/n." the ginger man said sheepishly while adjusting his glasses as the familiar scent of Nero's cologne caught her nose, Y/n cautiously lifted up the Animus visor off her eyes to find Nero staring at her.

the y/nat woman's stomach tightened and her face felt hot as a tense silence filled the air, before Nero spoke up pretty saying that her reasons for hiding this life from him were the exact same reasons he keeps her away from Devil hunting to protect her. 

He sighed knowing there was no way talking her out of the creed like he had planned, but Nero urged her not to get killed and not to hide things from him anymore... Y/n promised then Nero sheepishly asked if she'd put the Animus back on? because he kind of wants to see what will happen to Amir and Esha.

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

Vergil: Like Dante he was hired by a shady old man to protect him, what he didn't expect was to be thrown into a special security called alpha squad filled with a bunch of arrogant humans who pointed a laughed at the white haired weirdo and using a sword in this day and age! Vergil ignored them seeing as this was just a temporary gig, and he'll never see them again. 

Of course nothing would prepare him for what happened next, alarms were blaring and the were bodies littering the hallways, Vergil examined as he went along noting that they alpha squad members and they'd been stabbed or had their throats slashed... 

It was Ironic that they died this way the more he thought about it, he snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his employer yelling at someone to back off.

 Vergil looked around the corner to see his employer and a hooded man with a strange blade on his wrist the two were engaged within a conversation while Vergil silently approached.

"I had dream about you Mr. Vesta."

"aww...how sweet, too bad you're not my type!"

"In my dream you never made it out the Paris Catacombs alive..."

"What can I say? I too stubborn to die!"

Vergil was just about to strike when the three were interrupted by an explosion, "Why Hello, Partner!" Vesta happily greeted the woman cautiously walked into the courtyard, Vergil felt a chill go down his spine as a familiar shouted at the man. "Jason, we have to go!" Vesta shook his head keeping eyes on the old man. "We can't let them find the box." 

The woman took a an aggressive stance not liking that answer "Screw that, I killed half of Alpha squad and destroyed the map, let's get out while we can!" footsteps were heard rushing down the alley, her partner growled in frustration finally complied with her. "See ya in your dreams old man.." Vesta jeered then threw a smoke bomb he and his partner ran from the scene being chased by Vergil.

Who caught up to them fairly quickly he knocked out the man and got a hold of the woman pulling her hood off confirming his suspicions. "Y/n what's meaning of this?" he hissed coming face to face with his gobsmacked girlfriend. "Only to be interrupted by remnants of Alpha squad, who ordered him to hold her down! Without a word Vergil used summoned swords on the men causing them to scatter.

before using the Yamato to open a portal; he threw Vesta over his shoulder and he and Y/n rushed through it landing in Nero's garage, the portal closed as Vergil dropped the passed out man none too gently onto the floor then turned his girlfriend who had a lot of explaining to do.  

#devil may cry #dmc x reader #Vergil sparda #Dante Sparda #Nero Sparda #Nero x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #devil may cry fanfiction #Assassin's Creed #crossover fanfiction

[fun-and-new-blog]

Norman Bates: Character Analysis

There is much to commend about Psycho (1960) and its true-to-life quality that is relevant in today’s world.

I am in awe at Anthony Perkins’s portrayal of Norman Bates because never before has an actor inhabited the mindset of a criminal psychopath so completely.

Norman, of all people, is offended by anything that compromises his relation to his mother. This is the guy who kills with malice aforethought. Audiences might be persuaded by his seemingly quaint yet ultimately harmless characteristics. Though under the surface there is something more sinister at work. After all, he is lonely and his hobby is to stuff dead birds. 

While staying at Bates Motel, Janet Leigh’s character Marion is clearly set to die. Norman kills and disposes of her by pushing into a swamp her car – that she bought with stolen money – and where also lies her corpse. He apparently thinks that he can get away with murdering Marion. This must be a kind of psychosis.

Once the private detective arrives, Norman’s profuse lying makes it increasingly difficult to remember what he has and has not said. Then comes his first error and a stuttering panic ensues. The skeletons, all of a sudden, come tumbling out of the closet. He shows an increasing level of egocentrism before he kills the detective.

Bates symbolically kills his already dead mother. He has also outstayed his welcome. He entertains the notion of having a conscience. He goes through the motions. As greatly deluded he might be, he no longer believes he has anything to hide. The question becomes not only of his murdering of two people, but also of his parent and step parent 10 years previously.

Once the scene of a power struggle transpires between him and Marion’s boyfriend Sam, there is an off-screen instance of Norman’s full integration of strength. He is aware of what he is capable of and that he is very dangerous. But it is too late, because the damage has been done. He cannot be reintegrated into society. The to-camera stare manages to lay bare the extent of his depravity. One wonders where his imaginings will take him next.

An interpretation is that Norman displays a dark triad of personalities; though that unlike any before committed to screen. First we see a man who is totally engrossed with himself and his mother. His first murder. Secondly, we see a man who refuses to reveal anything of his real nature. His second murder. Thirdly, we see a man who knows he is capable of great damage. His attempted murder and arresting. 

At this last stage, Perkins’s performance falters somewhat before the revelation of (spoiler) his maternal alter ego. His performance repeats its initial awkwardness and lacks layers of complexity. This repetition belies his development through the film. But this is more as a result of a stylized repetition of acts as Mr. Bates – the film’s vital element of continuity – as opposed to poor acting.

The film’s strength is dependent on Norman’s character. To this end, Perkins saves this film. After the character’s performative side as his mother enters stage, the betrayal of his previous moral posturing as Norman becomes apparent. The psychiatrist’s verdict, for example, does not do justice to Perkins’s realistic portrayal of someone who operates without morals and has no reference to reality. This is psychological realism at its finest.

The greatness of this film is its suspension of the audience’s disbelief, whose members might or might not have guessed at Norman’s split personality disorder. Its sequence of events deliberately plays with viewers’ presuppositions. So it is difficult not to shudder while witnessing Norman’s true behaviour at the end. This shocking revelation vindicates the constant to-ing and fro-ing of Hitchcock’s directorial bluff. The constant deferment of a satisfactory interpretation concerning Norman’s motives, and their ambiguities, creates a riveting thriller storyline. As a result, Psycho rewards close analysis of Perkins’s convincing portrayal of a deeply disturbing mentality.

03/26/20 with edits

#movies #films #film #cinema #classic films #hollywood #hitchcock #norman bates #psycho #anthony perkins #janet leigh #thriller #film studies #psychology #personality disorder

[wandernic]

Alex Boniello as Connor Murphy

******YOU KNOW THE DRILL, SPOILERS AHEAD****** Boy howdy. Just know this is gonna suck in advance because for me, Alex has redefined the character in such a subtle but impactful way that it’s hard for me to put into words. “You had to be there” is a shit review, but you kinda did. Nonetheless, I’ll try.

From his first scene at the Murphy breakfast table, Alex’s delivery of Connor’s lines is completely unique to his own portrayal. I never found myself thinking “this was obviously inspired by Mike,” like I have when some of the understudies have gone on as Connor. I know some will want me to quantify that more specifically, but I wouldn’t say this is better or worse - just new, different, and above all refreshing - a resonant reimagining of the character. In the scene in which Jared makes the school-shooter wisecrack and Connor responds “I’m laughing. Am I not laughing hard enough for you?”, Alex’s Connor is dead serious in this response. This was powerful, because in the moment you concurrently see how hurt Connor was, and how quick he was to put up that tough-guy wall to cover his pain. The computer lab scene was probably my favorite moment for Alex. The moment he sees Zoe’s name on Evan’s note, he isn’t just angry, but seems to have a moment of disbelief. It’s as if he doesn’t want to believe what he’s reading after reaching out to connect with the only other person he believes feels the isolation he does. There is an expression of utter shock, then betrayal on his face, when what he thought (Evan is like him) collapses into what he now thinks (Evan is just another cruel classmate taking another cruel shot). This sequence busted my heart in a whole new way. Sincerely, Me - LOLOL. Alex hasn't quite mastered the post-“I rub my nipples with delight” freeze frame exaggerated pose, but more than made up for that with the “our friendship goes beyond, your average kind of bond...” moment. He RUFFLED TAYLOR’S HAIR Y’ALL. From a fangirl perspective it was of course adorable, but also effective from a narrative perspective, in that it show’s Evan’s head canon friendship with Connor as even more idealized. It just brings home how much Evan doesn’t just want to keep up the pretense of that friendship for the Murphys’ sake, but how much he wishes it was actually true.

I also noticed in Alex‘s portrayal, Connor doesn’t shout the “but not because we’re gay’ line like Mike had been doing for comedic effect. This Evan-head-canon Connor doesn’t seem to care much if people think that. I don’t know if that’s because in Alex’s mind, Evan suspects Connor may have been gay, or because he suspects Evan just thinks Connor didn’t give a shit what people thought, but I like this creative decision on Alex’s part. Because Evan *doesn’t* really know anything about Connor, I like it that he isn’t projecting a sexuality or opinion about it onto Connor in this version. (I also like Mike’s version, because teenage boys projecting assumptions onto other people is totally realistic, too.) Disappear: I’m the only human who hasn’t seen the YouTube video yet. (I decided to do this first so I wasn’t unduly influenced by that.) The loss of Mike’s powerful vocals here was noticeable. Taylor and Alex sounded great together, though, and more evenly matched. I sometimes felt like Mike was drowning out some of the non-Ben Evans with the strength of his voice, which I was okay with too.

Acting-wise I was again in love with Alex’s choices here. As they spoke, this Connor gave Evan little smiles and glances, like Evan imagines Connor as not just his bestie but his co-conspirator, as if they are really in this together. It gave even more of a glimpse of the power of Evan’s justifications - like what he’s doing is okay because it’s for Connor, and Connor would totally be on board with it anyway.  In Connor’s final scene with dialogue, I loved Alex’s “did you fall or did you let go” delivery - understated and affecting.  In the “Words Fail” scene, when Connor appears, looks at Evan, then exits, I think this needs to be held a bit longer. Evan is finally letting go of this fantasy of his friendship with Connor, and Connor should linger so that we’re reminded how hard it was for Evan to come clean and let go of the world he’d created. Overall, if you’ve never seen the show (um why are you here, so many spoilers), go now.  If you HAVE seen the show, go AGAIN. Alex gives a moving, nuanced performance you will not want to miss.

#dear evan hansen #Alex Boniello #Mike Faist #Connor Murphy #Evan Hansen #Tree Bros

[somethingjustsouthofbrilliance]

Fool Me Once. Chapter 5 (epilogue)

Phew, well, that short epilogue got away from me a bit (2k+ words, geesh).  But, anyway, here it is, the, hopefully, satisfying conclusion.  Just some angst and fluff :)  Chapter 1 with links to all the subsequent chapters is here.

Tagging @tonystark5ever  @ambersagen  @larrklopp @livgg15 @anastasiaformarvel @cwar1864 @pleasant-music-bouquet @journeythroughtherain  @chrwythyn @fondofeveryprickle  @erya-lainfa @elenajones23 @hurricanesass @asdfghjkldafuq @chanderefk @giulisetta

Hopefully, I didn’t miss anyone.

Chapter 5. Epilogue

Carefully she pushes open the door to Tony’s room, throwing a quick hopeful look at the man in bed before looking away, disheartened.  Settles her gaze on the small, hunched over figure at his bedside instead.  The kid.  Peter.  She’s not surprised to see him here.  As far as she knows, he hasn’t left Tony’s side since…

 She shakes herself out of the disturbing memories, closes the door behind her with a soft click. She knows he heard her, sees the telltale tension in his shoulders.  But he doesn’t turn around, remains as he is, slouched awkwardly in a bedside chair, one hand stretched out toward Tony, fingers curled lightly around his wrist, resting on the skin above his pulse point.  Checking, she realizes, her lips curving into a smile, soft and fond.

 “Any change?” she asks, knowing the answer even before the kid shakes his head mournfully, his shoulders seeming to sag even more.  She sighs, closing her eyes briefly, swallows past the now ever-present lump of worry. At least he’s still breathing, she thinks ruefully, at least he’s alive.

She takes a step closer to the bed, placing a hesitant hand on the teen’s hunched back.  “How are you holding up?”

 Peter shrugs minutely under her hand.  “I’m fine,” comes the response, and the inflection in his voice is so much like Tony’s, it makes her heart ache.

 “Your aunt called,” she tries again.  “She’s worried.  Wanted me to ask you to go home and rest a bit.”

 He turns toward her then, cheeks pale, eyes red.  “I’m fine, Ms. Potts, really,” he says, chin wobbling unconvincingly.  “Besides,” he shrugs again, drops his gaze back to where his hand lies curled around Tony’s.  “Colonel Rhodes isn’t here.  You and Mr. Hogan are leaving, too, and I… I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

 There’s no judgment in his voice, but she can’t help a flush of guilt that heats her cheeks at his words. She can’t stay, as much as she would have wanted to (and she does want to, she really, really does).  Because she’s got a multi-billion dollar company to run, Tony’s company, and she was already gone for several days – she can’t afford to be absent any more.  Tony would understand, she knows he would.  But it doesn’t make leaving any easier.

 “How could he do this?”

 The murmured words snap her out of the self-recriminating downward spiral of her thoughts, and she frowns questioningly at Peter’s downturned face, waiting for him to elaborate.

 He does.

 “Rogers.”  The teen’s free hand clenches into a fist, the muscles under Pepper’s hand bunching up with tension.  “Mr. Stark was his friend, his teammate.  How could he just fire on him like that for… for no reason?  I don’t… I don’t understand.”

 She bites her lip against an all-too-familiar upsurge of anger, counts to ten in her head, letting that anger fizzle out.  There’s no room for it here, not now, not in this place.  She nods silently to herself, lets her hand slide down from Peter’s shoulder.  Walks slowly around him to stand by Tony’s head.

 “Did he ever tell you about a man named Obadiah?” she asks, reaching down to push a stubborn lock of hair off Tony’s forehead.  Rests her fingertips against the cool, pale skin.  

 “No.”

 She smiles, wistful and knowing. She wasn’t expecting anything else – Tony isn’t the type to talk about the things that trouble him, not until those things become too much for him to handle.  His post-New York nightmares were a great testament to that.  She closes her eyes briefly, inhales, long and deep.

 “Obadiah was Tony’s mentor,” she says finally, absently rubbing her thumb back and forth along the skin above Tony’s brow.  “Ever since his parents were… ever since they died,” she stumbles, not quite ready to voice this latest betrayal, “he became like a father to him.”

 “What…uh… what happened?” Peter’s attention is on her now, undivided, brown eyes watching her expectantly.

 Her lips twitch – a twisted, bitter semblance of a smile.  “He paid a terrorist group to have Tony killed.”

 Peter’s eyes widen impossibly, mouth falling open in obvious shock.  “What?”

 She nods, looking away, the grainy images of Tony’s torment flickering before her in her mind’s eye – as horrifyingly vivid as when she first saw them over eight years ago.   “Turns out Obadiah was dealing weapons illegally behind Tony’s back, and he needed Tony out of the way so he could take over the company and continue his dealings on a larger scale.  We didn’t know.  Nobody knew.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, forcing the images away. Her fingers tremble against Tony’s skin and she pulls her hand away, curls it into a fist at her side in an attempt to hide the tremor.

 “And then when Tony came back and started going after all those illegal weapons, Obadiah decided to take matters into his own hands.  Quite literally.”  She clasps her hands together, clenches them hard, her nerves getting the better of her. Takes another breath that feels too shaky to her somehow.  “He wanted Tony to die knowing that his legacy was going to be exactly what he feared, what he despised – a Merchant of Death.  He ripped the arc reactor out of Tony’s chest, while telling him how he planned to use that technology to create a line of iron soldiers, monsters powered by the very thing that was giving Tony life.”

 Beside her she hears Peter gasp.  Watches as the teen blinks rapidly, his face growing impossibly white.

 “His arc reactor?  He… he took his…?  And then Rogers …with his shield…?” Peter clamps his free hand over his mouth, looking for all the world like he’s about to get sick.

 She grasps his shoulders, crouches in front of him to capture the panicked, wide-eyed gaze.  “Breathe,” she orders him softly.  “Come on, Peter, breathe.”

 The teen shakes his head furiously, his features crumpling.  Stares back at her, looking so lost, so helpless, that she moves before her conscious mind comprehends her intentions.  Wraps her arms around him, holding him tight as he shivers against her.

 “He… he gave him back that shield after… after this…  He protected him in battle…,” Peter gasps out into her shoulder, and she tightens her hold on him because he’s shivering harder now, undercurrents of anger slipping into his voice.  “Why?”

 She huffs mirthlessly, pulls away, waiting until he meets her gaze.  “Would you believe me if I told you he tried to save Obadiah, too?  Even after everything that man has done?”

 Peter gapes at her, incredulous, and she sees the exact moment the realization strikes; the moment that disbelief and anger bleed out of those big brown eyes to be replaced with understanding and then acceptance.  

 “Yeah,” the kid agrees, hoarse, his gaze drifting over to Tony’s unconscious form.  “Yeah,” he repeats, his voice tinged with a kind of mournful fondness that she herself has felt all too frequently toward Tony, “I would.”

 She smiles wistfully at the familiar sentiment displayed so clearly on the teen’s face, at the protectiveness she feels rolling off of him in waves.  Tony was right, she thinks.  He’s a good kid.  

 She straightens back up, leans toward him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you, Peter,” she tells him as he blinks at her, surprised, eyebrows raised in near-comic confusion.  “Tony… he doesn’t have too many people around him that he can trust not to….” She cuts a glance at Tony’s motionless form, a watery veil washing out his slack features.  Presses her lips together, feeling the saltiness of tears against the tip of her tongue.  “…not to break him,” she whispers, swiping a hand across her eyes before meeting Peter’s open, empathetic gaze once more. “Thank you for being one of the few good ones,” she tells him sincerely, and he nods mutely, his own eyes looking suspiciously wet.

 She squeezes his shoulder one last time in a gesture of comfort, turns her attention back to Tony. She hates seeing him like this – so pale, so uncharacteristically still.  Another injury, another close call.  Too close this time around.   She blinks away another stray tear, raises her hand to wipe it off her cheek.  Leans down, brushing her lips across Tony’s temple.

 “You gotta wake up, honey,” she whispers above his ear.  “I really need you to.  We all do.” She presses her lips to the cool skin once more, squinting against the insistent burn of tears.  “Please.”

 ***

 Peter dreams – a fragmented, disjointed sequence of images, flashes of light and dark.  A memory, but not quite.  

 He’s with his Uncle Ben, they’re returning home from a fair, walking down a side street to get to the bus.  Suddenly something emerges from the shadows – a darkness that momentarily obscures the picture before him, and then he’s on his knees on the ground, leaning over Uncle Ben’s body as his life’s blood seeps out of him into the cold, gray stone.  He cries and he pleads for his Uncle not to leave him, but the man disappears before him, his features dissolving, morphing into another, equally familiar, equally dear. Peter reaches for him, but a large figure inserts itself between him and Mr. Stark.  Pushes Peter out of the way, throws him aside like a weightless rag doll. And Peter can’t get back on his feet quickly enough, struggles futilely against the sudden heaviness of his limbs that slows his movements to a crawl. And he’s powerless to stop what happens, to prevent that creature from pouncing on Mr. Stark, the sound of metal hitting flesh deafening in the shadowed space.  He screams in rage, strains against his uncooperative muscles, fighting to inch closer.

He finally makes it, but not before the creature grips the edges of the arc reactor with its claw-like appendage and yanks it out, disappearing into the night.  

 “No!”

 Mr. Stark gasps in pain, his body jerking upward with the force of the pull before falling limply back onto the ground, eyes slipping closed. And Peter moans in distress, dropping to his knees beside him.  

 “No.”

 He pulls the man toward him, tapping his cheek in an attempt to rouse him.  Wraps his arms around him, pleading, pleading for him to wake up.  But he remains silent, still, and the air seems to grow colder and colder and colder.  And he feels the exact moment that the faint, thready beat of Mr. Stark’s heart slowly, inexorably comes to a stop.

 “No…”

 He jolts awake as the hand he’s been clinging to all this time shifts minutely in his grip.  He raises his head up off the bed, blinks myopically at his surroundings, the harrowing visions from his uneasy slumber still standing before him in his mind’s eye.   And then his wide-eyed, bleary gaze settles on the pale face of his mentor, on the thin sliver of brown that grows wider with each labored flutter of the eyelids, and the last of the sleep-induced haze surrounding his brain leaves him in a rush.

 “Mr. Stark!  You’re–”

 His lower lip wobbles, and he already feels the tears coming, his emotions too frayed for him to wrestle back under control.  Mr. Stark’s eyes widen in confusion and worry, his hand twisting within Peter’s grasp, fingers scrambling weakly to grasp Peter’s wrist.  That gesture, that feeble attempt at comfort is enough to sever what’s left of the strings holding him up, and Peter crumples forward like a broken marionette, burying his face in his mentor’s chest as tears stream down his face, burning him from the inside out.

 He can hear Mr. Stark’s worried calls of his name, can feel the man’s arms, weak and trembling with effort, as they wrap gently if a bit awkwardly around his sob-wracked frame. Focuses on the steady beat of the heart underneath his ear, strong, reassuring.  Thinks back to those awful minutes when he felt that heart stop, the sudden absence of its faint, halting rhythm dousing his senses with a wave of crushing, bone-chilling cold that froze him mid-swing, nearly made him lose his grip on the webbing as he rushed to get Mr. Stark to safety.  Thinks of the hours spent outside the operating room as he waited, as they all waited to know if Mr. Stark would live or die.  Thinks of the days, days, days of more waiting, of cautious, slowly fading optimism, of regretful, pitying looks thrown his way…

 “Hey.” Mr. Stark’s hand shifts, and he feels it ruffle clumsily through his hair, feels the brush of a thumb across his tear-stained cheek.  “I’m okay, kid.  I’m alright.”

 He nods at the raspy whisper, burrows deeper into the solid warmth of his mentor’s embrace, letting the tangibility of it soothe his overwrought senses.  Real, he reminds himself, feeling the first huff of genuine, relieved laughter bubble wetly to the surface even as he clings to that reality for dear life.  Real.  Alive.

 He doesn’t notice drifting back to sleep, his body, exhausted by too many sleepless, worry-wrought nights, succumbing to its need to rest, to recharge.  But this time there’s a cocoon of safety around him that, he knows, somehow, even in the fog of sleep, won’t let him go, a steady thrum of heartbeat against his ear, and there are no more nightmares.  

The End

#somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes #tony stark #peter parker #pepper potts #angst #hurt/comfort #my fic #all's well that ends well

[planetjeon]

hurricane | jungkook [pt.1]

part two masterlist

words: 3.3k genre: angst. i literally only know how to write angst. summary: as with the people wrongly convicted of crimes, you felt betrayed, hurt, anger, sadness, as the people you thought knew you, didn't really at all.

a/n: the oc might not come off as very likeable but i wanted her to be a more realistic character. she's exhibiting emotions normal people would exhibit if put in the same situation so bear with her, bear with me :)  also, i'm finally done with finals so i'll have more time to actually write now and i'm excited to properly run a writing blog.

you'd always been pretty brash. loud, often obnoxious, a little immature. but that was what the people around you loved about you. and it was a side you only managed to show because you were so close to the 7 boys.

it was no secret you could be a little bitchy, one thing you absolutely could not stand was rude people - rude waiters, people on the street who gave glaring looks even when it was obviously their fault for walking into you. but then again, your joking, impulsive mannerisms could also be seen as rude to other people. people who didn't know you as well. 

and liars - god, liars were just awful people. especially those who lied at the expense of others. you felt for the people wrongly convicted of murder. of course, your situation hardly came close to being put in prison for a crime you did not do, but it felt as dramatic. you felt the betrayal, hurt, anger and sadness of the people around you as those wrongly convicted must have felt as well.

but seokjin, yoongi, hoseok, namjoon, jimin, taehyung, and your boyfriend jungkook. you thought they knew you. knew you wouldn't ever be bitchy to someone who didn't deserve it. wouldn't lie just to hurt someone they thought you didn't like. you were the type of person who laughed at absolutely everything and anything, so much that it was a wonder you didn't have abs. you tried your hardest to be polite and nice and the only times you might have been rude were when the other person was rude first or you were messing around. but that was supposed to make you normal. you couldn't be an absolute angel, but that didn't make you the devil either. so why were these misconceptions forming around you, keeping you in the eye of the hurricane, unable to escape?

it started with the petty fight you'd had with jungkook one day. 

assistant choreographer for bts allowed you to live your dream of dancing for a living. it allowed you to express your creativity through the moves you came up with and strung together to present to head choreographer sungdeuk oppa to incorporate into bts' full choreo. whenever any of your choreography made it into the final dance, you felt your heart swell with pride as the boys you'd grown so close to executed each move perfectly. you'd be lying if you said you didn't pay more attention to the main vocal and lead dancer of the group, but just the fact that their world-famous choreography had bits of your ideas in was enough to make you feel on top of the world.

that was why it was a little hard for you to welcome a new assistant choreographer into the team that had stuck the past 3 years since you'd joined. jiyeon was younger, which made her a prodigy. as the newfound maknae, the boys babied her endlessly and it was hard to get used to not being the only girl in the team. 

you never really managed to properly click with jiyeon. she was more of an introvert, a very bright, innocent girl, not quite yet an adult and very starkly different from your rough demeanour. you knew how to play with the boys, you enjoyed it. they barely ever saw you as a girl - except jungkook, of course but even then you played like brothers did - whereas jiyeon was very much the demure baby girl in their eyes.

when you voiced your jealous thoughts to jungkook one day while he held you on the couch of your small apartment, he simply laughed and kissed your pouted lips. "but you're still my girl." he crooned cheesily, his upper lip disappearing as he smiled that adorable bunny smile of his while you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous line. in that moment, it made you feel validated.

that's right, i am his girl. his only girl. you'd thought. but the sequence of events that followed proved otherwise.

as the fast beats of bts' new, unreleased title track pulsated through your bones, you stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors with sungdeuk oppa in front of you and jiyeon to your side. you'd been throwing ideas to the floor for a good three hours now and none had really stuck.

exhausted, you were thankful when sungdeuk oppa suggested a short break as he left the room to handle some other things and you collapsed groaning to the hardwood floor, legs splayed open comfortably, downing your bottle of water in seconds. jiyeon opted for a more ladylike manner of taking a break, heading quietly to the corner of the room to sit with her back against the wall, phone in one hand while she sipped at her iced tea.

you lay back on the ground, eyes shut, humming to the chorus of the title track as you tried to picture 7 boys executing knife-like choreography onstage to the beat. most of the time, simply imagining it helped you come up with the best moves.

your eyes flew open as a plausible idea popped into your head and you leapt to your feet to attempt to recreate it from your mind, humming the melody and keeping time with drum beats in your head. you felt your limbs move on their own as the song played in your head and you focused on the way you looked in the mirror. 

you paid no attention to jiyeon in the back as you repeated the same series of moves, making minor adjustments where necessary until you deemed it perfect to present to sungdeuk oppa when he got back. 

15 minutes later, he was back in the studio and fiddling with the sound system to play the title track on repeat once again and you were bursting to show him what you'd come up with. 

"alright, where were we?" he asked once we were all in our respective positions in front of the mirror again. you opened your mouth to pitch your idea but jiyeon beat you to it. "i have an idea." she said in her soft, clear voice. "can i show it?" she asked. 

despite practically squirming out of your sweatpants to show your new idea, you decided there was no harm in letting jiyeon show her idea first. maybe hers would help you improve yours as well. 

sungdeuk oppa moved to your side, giving jiyeon the floor. the both of you kept your eyes trained on her as she counted the beats and waited for the chorus to start. as the first few beats started to play, your own mind was playing the new moves you'd come up with before. you were so into them playing in your head that it looked like jiyeon was doing the exact same thing in front of you. it took you a second to realise you weren't delusional - she was doing the exact same thing you'd come up with.

your eyes widened, mouth falling open a little in disbelief as she finished your moves in a flourish and sungdeuk's sharp applause rang clear in your ears. "that was amazing, we can definitely use that, but maybe we should change this part to.." his voice started to fade out as your brain attempted to register the fact that jiyeon had just blatantly stolen your idea to present to sungdeuk oppa.

"(y/n). are you listening?" sungdeuk oppa snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. "y-yea. but oppa, those moves were mine." you tried to keep a light tone to your voice, not wanting to straight up yell at her for stealing your idea. "i came up with those during the break, jiyeon-ah." 

her eyes widened in shock, her head cocking to the side cutely, as if she was confused. "but i came up with them." she said innocently. her blatant lie sent tingles of rage all through your body and your sense of resolve broke, just like that and you took three steps toward her quickly. "what the fuck are you on about? you just saw me practicing those moves to show sung deuk oppa!" you yelled in her face, unable to grasp the fact that someone who looked so innocent could be such a conniving little bitch. 

out of the corner of your eye, you saw jungkook, hoseok and jin walk into the studio, back from the recording studio but you paid no attention to them. your eyes were focused on staring down the little girl who thought she could take your heart and soul away from you. your choreography was your pride and joy - it proved and showcased your talent and you weren't the type of person to let anyone take what you loved away from you.

"(y/n)-ah, what are you doing?" you heard jungkook ask. his hand wrapped around your arm, tugging you away from jiyeon who was shrinking back slowly, her eyebrows creased together to form the perfect terrified face. you were so boiling mad you flung jungkook's hand off you and advanced on jiyeon once again. "what the fuck is your problem? why would you do something like that?" you yelled.

"ya!" jungkook yelled, grabbing you once again to yank you away from her. "what are you doing, you're scaring her!" jin had gone over to jiyeon's side and put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "are you okay?" you heard him ask her. "what is going on?"

"the little bitch stole my fucking idea and now she's trying to pretend i'm some sort of psycho for accusing her of it! but she did! she fucking stole my idea!" the cursing came out whenever you were mad - and when you weren't mad either, let's be honest - and boy, were you mad. you were so mad you were shaking. hoseok had joined in on comforting jiyeon and you watched her continue her act of absolute innocence while making you seem like the crazy predator. 

"hyung, what's going on?" hoseok asked sungdeuk oppa who you realised was still there too. he shrugged his shoulders. "i don't know, jiyeon was showing me an idea she had of-" you couldn't let him finish. "it was my idea!" you yelled.

jungkook tugged on your arm once again, his grip tightening. he practically dragged you out of the dance studio into an adjoining room. "what are you doing, you sound crazy! calm down!" 

you couldn't calm down. you were livid. "it was my idea. i thought of it, i practiced it to show sung deuk oppa and this little bitch stepped in before me and danced my moves and said they were hers. she stole my idea."

jungkook sighed, rubbing your back soothingly to calm you down as you breathed heavily in fury. "i'm sure she didn't mean to, it was probably something similar. she might have gotten inspired by yours." he tried to rationalise. 

you shoved his hand away from your back. he wasn't getting it. "it was exactly the same. it was my dance moves, jungkook. mine!" you were yelling again. you were completely aware of how childish you sounded, but you were not letting her get away with making you out to be a liar.

jungkook sighed again and it was beginning to annoy you that he thought dealing with you was something to sigh about. 

"but jiyeon would never do that, she-" 

"and i would?" you cut him off from defending her. "i would make up this whole thing just to make her look bad? or because i want credit for the dance moves? she's not capable of lying but i am?" 

"calm down, (y/n), you're sounding ridiculous. are you sure it's not just because you're jealous that we're paying her the attention we used to give you? you did say you were jealous." and that was it. you remembered jin and hoseok immediately going to comfort jiyeon and jungkook needing to pull you away from her. in this story, she was the good girl. the protagonist. and she had all her knights standing with her to defend her. protect her from the bully. you were the bully.

"fuck you." you couldn't stand what was happening. you felt wronged. you needed to leave to collect your thoughts and calm yourself down. "it was my idea. i'm not fucking lying." you said before shoving jungkook to the side and heading back into the dance studio.

you caught sight of jiyeon on the couch with hoseok and jin on either side of her. she visibly flinched when you stormed into the room and hoseok stood up to stand in front of her. he was protecting her. from you. you had become the antagonist. 

you weren't in the studio to torment her further, you just knew you had to get out for a while. heading to the lockers they had built into the wall at the back of the studio, you yanked yours open roughly and grabbed your things. slamming the locker shut, you turned the key and shoved it into your pocket before storming out of the studio and out of the building.

it took you another good 5 hours to calm yourself down when you were back at your apartment. a long shower, fluffy socks, jungkook's softest jumper, a full tub of ice cream and brooklyn nine-nine aided your return from the gates of fury. 

when you went to sleep that night, you told yourself you would go back the next day and calmly explain your side of the story. the boys would believe you. they knew you. 

the next morning, you woke up to find zero texts or calls from jungkook or any of the other boys. the group chat you shared with them was usually buzzing all the time but it was silent. no activity whatsoever. but you were still going ahead with your plan. you had to clear your name before jiyeon poisoned it further. 

when you walked into the dance studio, all the boys were already there. they sat scattered around the back of the room, sombre looks on their faces. when you walked in, all chatter died out and the room grew silent. they turned to look at you. jungkook broke his gaze first, choosing to look at the ground instead and you reminded yourself to apologise for how you treated him yesterday when you were so mad. 

the rest of the boys continued to stare - maybe even glare - at you.

"what?" you asked, managing a dry laugh. "you look like you're ready to kill me." you joked. there was no response. you sighed. "listen, i want to explain what happened." 

"there's no need for an explanation. you went too far." jimin spoke up first. you frowned. it was going to be hard defending yourself when all the other boys were already against you. "i know, i could've approached the situation more calmly, but you have to know she stole my idea and blatantly lied about it to make me look bad!" your voice grew louder towards the end of your sentence and you had to tell yourself to calm down.

"that's no excuse for you to beat her up!" jimin yelled. 

"but you have to hear my side of- what?" you weren't sure if you heard him right. beat her up? you didn't lay a finger on her. 

as if on cue, jiyeon walked into the studio. as she laid eyes on you, her eyes widened in shock and she prepared to retreat but you weren't having it. 

"ya! you little bitch, what the fuck did you tell them? that i beat you up?" you stormed over to her, the anger you thought you suppressed surfacing once again. 

in the next second, jimin and hoseok were by her side and jin's arms were around yours, preventing you from getting any closer to her. 

"(y/n), that's enough!" jin yelled from behind you. seeing jin mad was rare. he was usually all happy and cheery and barely raised his voice in anger. but in that moment, with his arms locked around yours like a vice, you could hear his rage loud and clear. and it was directed at you. 

"i didn't do it! i didn't touch her! she's lying!" you cried out as you tried to wriggle your way out of jin's grip but he was way too strong. 

"then explain this!" jimin yelled from across the room. he pulled the back of jiyeon's sweater by her neck down to show several large purple bruises on her back and shoulder blades.

while in other situations you would have felt sorry for the poor girl who got hurt, in this case it only fueled your anger. "you're such a fucking liar!" you yelled across the room to her, your protests against jin's grip growing more violent. "i can't believe you would do something like that, tell them i didn't do it! you did it to yourself!" even as the words left your mouth, you knew how ridiculous you sounded. how would someone as small as her inflict those huge bruises on herself? but you had no other explanation. you had to defend yourself. 

you were suddenly made aware of the tears running down your cheeks as you cried in frustration. everything was going wrong, you had woken up this morning with a plan. you were so sure the boys you considered brothers who always took care of you would believe you. and your boyfriend- you turned to look at jungkook who simply sat in a chair, watching everything unfold. he looked indifferent, not at all troubled at the fact that his girlfriend, whom he claimed to love with all his being was being falsely accused of something as horrific as beating up someone younger than her. 

"jungkook.." you let out one desperate cry for help to your boyfriend. his eyes met yours but he remained in his seat, unmoving. "i didn't do it." you begged with all your might, your eyes pleading him to believe you but he just sat there.

you felt all strength leave your body and you let yourself go limp in jin's arms. as he finally let go of you, you sank to the ground in defeat. they weren't going to believe you. "i didn't do anything." you said quietly, your voice hoarse from the yelling and the crying. 

you heard jimin say "come on." and he led jiyeon out the door, his hands holding onto her shoulders. the rest of the boys followed them out of the room, including jungkook.

as you were left alone in the dance studio, crumpled on the floor, crying, you felt lost. defeated. like your whole world was against you. you thought of the 6 boys who took care of you like older brothers, who helped you fulfil your dream of being a dancer/choreographer. you thought of your boyfriend whose smile and hugs and kisses you so desperately needed to take you out of the hurricane you were fighting. 

you thought of how wronged you felt. betrayed. hurt. angry. and so so sad. if it had been any of the other boys in your position, you would've believed them. but why did they not believe you?

part two

#jungkook fic #angstykpopnet #jungkook #bts #bts fic #bts angst #bts scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook scenario #taehyung #jimin #v #hoseok #jhope #yoongi #rm #rap monster #namjoon #suga #jin #seokjin #mine #writing

[axolotiels]

Art trade for @actingwithportals ; my my, how we do love suffering, don’t we? this was incredibly fun to write, you’ve got no idea :3c

She had never wanted to hear those screams again. The first time, they had rippled through the intercom, could be felt through the air and in the functioning alert line. They'd been scary and saddening then, of course, and they were equally scary now, but instead of just saddening as well, there was also a hot sense of betrayal. Something about this felt absolutely horrendously familiar in the most ghostly of ways.

The screaming, Her screaming, made her even more frightened. She was hissing curses and hatred at the core that had been sent down the transfer chute as Her head was disconnected by the forest of sparking and clicking arms, bathing her in a pale yellow light. The only thing Mana could think to do was to apologize, apologize profusely and babble and scream that it was not her fault, she didn't want to do this, the human made her do it because the human plugged her in. Even as she said these words, panicked and horrified, she'd forgotten all about the human that had forced her into the port with shaking, blood covered hands.

She had not asked if it would hurt, to be plugged into Her body; any idiot with basic working pain receptors could have guessed that, yes, it definitely would hurt. Her stream of apologies that surely would have been racked with sobs had she been human were suddenly cut, dwindling away into a gross static filled scream. It was happening so fast, she was unable to process most of what was going on until seconds after it had occurred. The scarlet and orange light around them melded together, and she made eye contact with Her; there was no understanding there, nothing that told her that She knew that this was not what she wanted, only bitter hatred and indignant rage. It practically melted the paint from her hull... or perhaps that was the thick cable that had jabbed itself into one of her ports that she was trying desperately to reject.

Mana heard Her hiss one thing before she collapsed into a soft reboot, as smooth as honey and laced with poisonous contempt. “You already did this to me; there's no point in trying to stop this now.”

There was a sharp ping as Mana's vision was switched off with the reboot, and her yammering finally stopped completely. The only thing she could see was the deep blue boot-up 'screen', and even then, she couldn't comprehend what was going on. Most of her brain had been switched off, after all.

Startup sequence initiated: core transfer successful.

Slowly, her vision came back. What had once been the back of her hurt tremendously, almost as badly as when she had been ripped from her port by the security droid. Beneath her optic directly was a gray aperture, and she lifted her 'head'... it was her 'head' now and not her body, wasn't it?

He was still standing there, right where she'd left him. Doug had a deep cut across the bridge of his nose and a bullet wound in his shoulder. He looked horrified, as he did most of the time. The cube he'd been carrying around with him was still slung over his back, despite the bullet hole that pierced through him now.

Everything was ghostly silent except for the cooling fans in her head. Doug swept the hair and the blood from his face, the back of his sleeve now stained red; he seemed to be about to speak and reached one shaking, grimy hand toward her.

She let out a shocked sound of disbelief and coiled the chassis back like a cobra. He couldn't be serious?

Mana was about to ask if he was when another announcement blared within her own head. Core integrated; preparing connections to wings 1 through 3. Reactor cores stable.

It was opening a floodgate of data, and all of it poured into processors and out again, only to be replaced with more. She was hyper-aware of everything in the facility, aware of hundreds of chambers that were being built from file, thousands of cameras and thousands of things that she didn't know needed to be controlled were suddenly very much in need of controlling. Physically, her head rattled and some of the plates shifted, opening slightly before snapping shut around her optic like a frill on a lizard.

A cold realization trickled through her: though she had known that GLaDOS was responsible for a great many things that she couldn't have imagined, she now found that she was responsible for so much more. Mana was not made for this, she was made to assist, not to manufacture and not to control.

For a few milliseconds, she tried desperately to keep Her facility together; she tried, she really did. Even with the facility much smaller than it had been in its heyday, she was simply unable to ration it out. Percentages began piling up, warnings and blips for things that she had sworn had not even shown up on any of the scans.

“No, nonono, I can't. I can't do this, I can't do this, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” her whimpering and babbling resumed as her head was racked with a twitch that caused her shutters to knock. The chassis was swaying slightly back and forth. “I didn't want this, please, believe me I-I'd never do this to you, it isn't my faul-”

Something touched her. It was pressed against one side of her face, hot with fever and slick with blood, trembling. The panels around the room flipped like a deck of cards, and something far below could be heard rumbling dangerously. There was a warning for it, but she didn't care, trying to fix it but merely shutting it off.

The core opened her optic and bathed Doug's haggard face in acidic green light. She could see herself reflected in his pupils, even has he trembled. “Can you hear me?”

Mana's optic danced from either of his eyes; had she a lip, it would be twitching up and down. She was getting a warning for the reactor, being told it had received too much stress and needed to be stabilized.  Doug never moved his hand or looked away, even as a stream of blood began to slip toward his eye from the top of the cut.

“You.” It was a voice almost like hers, but one that she had not previously owned. She felt her optic contract, and the green glow on his skin waned as he was swallowed by the shadow of the chassis. The plates around her optic slapped open, smacking his hand away. She coiled back again but reared her head up; there was a scarlet smear on her dirtied white hull now.

“You did this.” Mana hissed, near to tears that she did not have. “YOU made me do this to Her.”

Doug took a frightened step backward, his eyes flashing with horror. Mana brought in a claw from somewhere in the ceiling as something else began to buckle below. Everything was buzzing around her as she was filled with fear, sadness, and a horrible sense of vomit-inducing betrayal.

“Mana? Mana, please, just let us go-”

Her optic flickered in disbelief. More warnings and blips, Wings 1 and 2 have collapsed. Reactor core unstable; too much stress applied from chassis input. She wasn't even sure how those two things were connected, but they were, so god help them. The walls rattled around them, each panel flipping in a circle, making the room look like the inside of a blender.

“You did thi- you made me do this.” Her voice cracked, which was something she did not know was possible. “Why did you plug me in? I trusted you.”

Doug staggered backward, unaware of the lowering claw. It clasped around his shoulders and he gasped out in pain, legs kicking. He was suddenly covered with the green light of her optic again; the chassis was bobbing back and forth, her head twitching.

Reactor cores unstable; ventilation system compromised.Evacuate the premises. Some part of her that rested deep in her brain, perhaps a backup consciousness or something equally ridiculous, was trying its hardest to issue commands to blast the ventilation systems to life. It failed; most of the vents were crushed or torn.

Mana tightened her grip, “She was right. She was always right. I wanted to help you, but you humans are all the same. Just the same as before. Selfish.” There was something bitter about the words in her mouth, though she had no mouth to speak of. Something else, ghostly familiar.

“A-and what did I think you were going to do with me when you got up to the surface? Tote me around with your bullet-riddled limbs until you collapsed in the middle of a field? I shouldn't have trusted you. He was right, h-he was right about one thing. Never trust humans, never trust you.”

Doug stared vacantly into her optic, blood running from his shoulder and his body shaking in the metal grasp of the claw where he dangled. The entire room seemed to be getting hotter. He mouthed one word, accompanied only by a raspy breath. Please.

The chassis twitched again; one of the cables in her back was practically melted by now.  Again she stared him down, the acid green of her optic painting him a sick, bloody jade. There might once have been pity, but now she felt only betrayal and the primal fear of her oncoming death. Still, she also felt remarkably calm, even as she hissed at the human who seemed to be dying in her claws.

“You already did this to me; there's no point in trying to stop it.”

#jinx writes #portal #portal 2 #doug rattmann #tw blood

[aion-rsa]

Stargirl Episode 10 Review: Brainwave Jr.

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This Stargirl review contains spoilers.

Stargirl Episode 10

At this point, we should all really feel sorry for people who aren’t watching Stargirl. It doesn’t seem as though it should be possible for a show about a teenage girl with a glowing staff and a knockoff Captain America costume to be the consistently best superhero series on the air and, yet, here we are.

“Brainwave Jr” doesn’t just manage to pull off a truly shocking final scene, it also rehabilitates its most problematic character, shake-up life at the Whitmore-Dugan household forever, fully establishes Brainwave as the most terrifying villain on this show, and gives us the series’ best group fight sequence to date. Whew.

If you’d told me after last week’s installment, which featured Henry watching creepy videos of his dad detailing his weirdo science experiments for the better part of the hour, that I’d be crying over the same character by the end of this episode, I’d have laughed in your face. And, yet, tears. Henry’s decision to sacrifice himself to protect the Justice Society is genuinely shocking, as is the fact that it appears as though his father really has killed him.

True, we don’t actually see young Henry’s dead body, and characters in comic book shows have certainly come back hale and hearty from worse fates than having a ceiling collapse on them. None of us would probably be that shocked if he turned up with an edgy scar and a big vendetta in Season 2. But Stargirl plays the moment straight, at least for right now, so it seem that we’re meant to assume this is a permanent ending for Henry’s character. The episode also gives him a redemption that is painfully brief but still manages to feel earned – from his last-second decision to repeat his apology to Yolanda, as well as his insistence to Courtney that people, in general, are good and still worth saving.

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“Brainwave Jr” is a showcase for both the younger Henry King and for actor Jake Austin Walker, as he discovers the man his father used to be, and dares to dream of a world where their relationship could be something different than the one he’s grown up knowing. It’s easy to wonder what might have happened if we’d had an amnesiac Brainwave for a few more episodes, both for Henry Jr.’s sake and the fact that there was some great tension to be had in him knowing but not knowing right now who Stargirl is. We can pretty much guess what’s going to happen as soon as he and Jordan talk, and that’s only if Icicle hasn’t figured it out on his own yet.

That Henry’s ultimately forced to acknowledge the fact that his father will always choose the ISA over anything else in his life is heartbreaking. But his truly heroic efforts to make sure Courtney and her friends – even Rick who tried to physically fight him earlier in the episode – get to safety while he holds off his father who is determined to kill them all? Man, that’s the kind of thing we all watch superhero shows for, isn’t it? Henry, I’m sorry I doubted you, kid.

Elsewhere, Pat and Courtney attempt to manage the fallout from Beth finding out the truth about the heroic extracurricular activities they’ve been engaging in since the family arrived in Blue Valley. Amy Smart finally gets some material that’s worthy of her, knocking Beth’s rage, disbelief, and sense of betrayal out of the park. Thankfully, Stargirl is smart enough not to try and tie this issue up in a bow in just one episode – when the hour ends, Beth is still furious with both her husband and daughter, Pat’s sleeping at the garage and Mike’s angry at Courtney for not trusting him enough to let him in on whatever’s going on.

Just because Beth’s understandably curious about what Jordan Mahkent is truly up to – told you that his weird parents that speak Norwegian all the time would be a problem for him – that doesn’t mean she’s ready to co-sign her daughter’s secret superhero identity, either. Stargirl leaves the door open for this narrative – and all these relationships – to go in any number of ways, and the fact that things aren’t resolved immediately feels like a realistic way to tackle what’s happening in their family.

Sadly, it’s Rick that remains the show’s weakest link, as he continues to treat his supposed teammates like dirt, blatantly disregard plans or orders he doesn’t like, and tries to take on a literal monster with his bare hands. Granted, his desire to punish Solomon Grundy is understandable, and possibly even admirable. But he’s hardly the only person in the JSA who’s lost a loved one, and his constant insistence that his pain matters more than anyone else’s is beyond tiresome. Even more so because literally every other character is presented with more nuance than he is. (Look at Yolanda in this very episode, who also lashes out at Courtney’s plan.)

The fact that Rick keeps being narratively paired off with Beth is likely some indication that her sweet and caring personality is supposed to somehow temper his constant murder rage or teach him a better way to deal with it. But mostly I just keep thinking she’d be better off far away from him because Rick is a mess that it is not her job to fix, and I’d rather watch Beth do pretty much anything else. Like, maybe learn to fight a little bit? Order a taser off of Amazon? It seems unfortunate that her only role in the group scenes this week was to be the Rick whisperer and shout about how her goggles weren’t working.

The big group fight sequence in Dr. Ito’s lair is incredible both in terms of scope and action – seeing Courtney and Yolanda fighting side by side together will always warm my heart. And Cindy shrieking repeatedly from her prison cell, begging for her father to let her be the one to kill Stargirl was honestly hilarious. We even got to see the Dragon King’s reptilian face. (Gross, by the way.)

How the fledgling JSA will react to witnessing Henry’s death – or seeing the true scope of Brainwave’s abilities for themselves – is anyone’s guess. While Courtney knows what really happened to poor Joey Zarick, this is the first time that Yolanda, Rick and Beth are seeing the true danger of their new superhero lifestyle play out before their eyes. They’re putting their lives – and the lives of others – on the line every time they suit up, and I’m not sure that some of them actually believed that until right now.

The post Stargirl Episode 10 Review: Brainwave Jr. appeared first on Den of Geek.

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