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shidouryusm · 5 months

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✿༝༚༝༚ Satoru: 1 You: 0 ✿༝༚༝༚

content -> fluffy fluff, banters, teasing and touching, making out, mentions of hickey at the end, implied sexual innuendo at the end.

w/c- 1.6k

a/n -> Happy birthday to my blue eyed goober, I love this lil shit till infinity. @pastelle-rabbit to answer your ask more thoroughly hehehehe. And to every Gojo fucker, hope y'all enjoy this once again extremely self indulgent piece with me and let's celebrate our pookie's birthday. Gojover? hell nah what's that

dividers by @/cafekitsune

“Babyyy, I’m hereee. Stop looking at your phone”, you hear Satoru’s whines muffled in your sweater. Your arms wrap around his neck as you hold the phone above his head, which in fact you were using to post for his birthday.

“Just a min, ‘toru.” you murmur softly, using one of your hands to thread through his cloud like hair. Your nails gently graze his scalp, starting from his undercut, as they smoothe over the prickly skin, reaching to the tufts of white candy floss that sits atop, repeating the circling motion again and again. Satoru hums satisfyingly at the feeling of your hands combing through them, comfortable enough to shut up momentarily and nuzzling himself further into your chest. You smile at his clinginess, dipping down to press a light peck on the top of his head.

Your nostrils fills with the sweet scent of shampoo, the fragnance carrying undertones of candy and molten marshmallow. You wonder where he even gets these and how much do they cost?

His hands envelopes your back as you half lay on the couch with him plopping himself right on top of you, his tall frame settles between your legs while his head nests snugly on your chest. You tangle one of your leg around the back of his shin. A mess of limbs under the thin blanket that covers both your lower bodies.

Outside, the sun shlyly peeks from the greyish clouds that wrings out sudden downpours every now and then, forcing both of you to coop up inside the house.

Not that Satoru was complaining at all, until now, when you shifted your attention from your grown ass boyfriend to your phone. He scoffs mockingly at you, still immersed deep in your phone. What even is there in that godforsaken phone? His blue eyes maliciously eyes that rectangular device. He lays on your chest, silently devising plans on having you all to himself, till the cogs of his brain click.

He shifts, raising himself slightly under the pretext of “just getting comfortable” so that his face now nestles the crook of your neck. Warm breaths tickles the skin under your ear to which you squirm a little,

“Toru-” you warn. From your peripheral vision you see him curled up over you, pulling the warmth of your body towards him. His face painted with an expression of serenity as if the only thing in his mind is to be bask in your silent embrace.

“Hmmm? What did I do?” faux innocent laced his words. You roll your eyes, one of your head still tangled between his locks. He waits for a while, letting you fall into a fake sense of security before his hands that were wrapped around your lower back start their journey to explore the expanse of your back. His touch is soft, leaving an electrifying sensation through your thin sweater. Almost ticklish and tantalising. One of his hands reach below, long fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, daring to slip underneath it.

You try your best to not give into whatever mischief his brain has cooked up. Even though, you know, you should have given him the attention, considering it’s his birthday.

But, since he had to be a menace, two can play the game, right?

Your attention has now fully shifted to your phone, the cat reel that was playing became ten times more interesting to watch. You even decided to up a notch, removing your hand from his hair to grab the phone with both hands.

“So, this is how it’s gonna be?” you hear him challengingly mutter, the removal of your hands acting as a declaration of silent war between you two. You dared not to look at him, although you were certain that his face is curled up in his trademarked smirk, plotting to win.

But if he’s Gojo Satoru, you are Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend. No way in hell you are backing out from this little game you both started literally out of nowhere.

“Gonna be what, ‘Toru? What did I do?,” you parrot his words back at him, feigning innocence while still peering at your phone. Your jaw muscle twitches, a smile threatening to break out.

Satoru quirks an eyebrow, amused by your witty banter. One of the many things that made him fall head over heels for you – your ability to match his energy at any given moment.

Little challenges sparking up between you guys often, keeping the ultimate fire of passion alive.

“Well, if you say so then,” Satoru breathes, his hands now fully getting into work, as they roam around your body. his other hand trails down to your hips, studying the way his palm bumps over the dips and curves.

The hand that was fiddling with the hem has slipped inside, resting over the waistline of your sweatpants. You feel your heart race as his blunt nails scrape over your skin ghostily, hooking one finger under to pull the elastic. He snickers against your skin before releasing the fabric, letting it snap against your skin.

You let out a small gasp at his ministrations. From the corner of your eyes you can make out this insufferable prick grinning at you, still resting his face on your neck.

“Low blow, ‘toru.” you narrow your eyes, determined to still not make any eye contact as you whisper under your breath, which apparently he caught on.

You hear him hum, “hmmmm? should have known before removing your hand, baby,” his satirical voice vibrates through as you scoff.

“Should have kept your hands to yourself in the first place.”

“Shouldn’t have ignored me in the first place. Y’know it’s impossible for me to not touch you, why demand such a thing?” with that, he lets his fingertips place fluttering touches all over your skin, without the obstruction of your sweater. You hiss, trying to squirm away from his cold fingertips but this sturdy, 6 foot giant had you locked under his hold, causing you to fail horribly.

“You’re cold! Get your hands off me.” you grumble. Satoru pretends to not hear anything, continuing to draw random lines with his fingers all over your lower back and sides. At times, fully planting his palm on your back, the frigidness making you gasp and falter.

“More the reason for me to touch you. You’re hot, baby.” he quips, to which you fall silent. How does he have the answer to everything you say?

“I’m not gonna leave my phone nor will I react now. You’re gonna lose the challenge”, you huff to which he shrugs his shoulder,

“Nah, I’d win.” Satoru says coolly, resuming his exploration with his hands.

You fall back to your phone, finding it difficult to concentrate on whatever is playing on the phone with the way Satoru’s hands glides over your skin. The pads of his fingers skim through your stomach. Even though they are cold, the lingering touch leaves wamr blaze in its wake. Your heart races sporadically as you anticipate where his hands might move next.

Although, your face says otherwise, making the most sour expression possible as you stare daggers into your phone. Satoru has always noticed every minuscule details and changes in your body, so this definitely didn’t go under his radar.

He decides it’s time to dial it up a bit. Afterall, he’s the birthday boy.

With his left hand which was already underneath your sweater, he continued tracing over your skin, while his right hand snaked up to the neckline of your sweater right where his face is currently planted to tug it down, exposing more of your skin in front of him. The veil of cold from the weather outside causes goosebumps to flesh out in your skin, catching Satoru’s eyes as he admires them with his piercing gaze before his mouth puckers in a “o”, cool air slid over your skin from his mouth.

“T-toru, stop it.” your resolves crumbles like your voice.

“Are you denying the birthday boy, baby? Don’t hurt me like that.” He whispers against your skin, a mocking bent in his tone as he feigns sadness. You debate whether to succumb to his touches or strangle him.

You breathe through your mouth, attempting to gain composure which you are notoriously failing to do. Satoru’s lips presses against your skin, his lips etched with a grin as he places countless pecks throughout the crevice of your neck and shoulder.

“So fucking pretty, still can’t believe you’re like all mine. Why were you ignoring me, baby. Need you always so fucking much.” Satoru’s gravelly voice vibrates through your skin, the tingles straight shooting down your spine. His hand has now gripped your side like a vice, fingers indenting deep into the skin.

He groans against your shoulder as he press a kiss there, finding his way back to your neck again, millions of kisses littering your skin. He reaches under your ear, his teeth nipping lightly at the lobe.

Meanwhile, his hands push your body up, towards him, grinding his lower body against yours.

A soft whimper dares to escape your lips before you suppress it. Hands turning a little wobbly, and you hate how heat courses through your veins as Satoru turns your whole being into a mushy puddle against himself.

“Give up, darling.” Satoru whispers in your ear, before his mouth catches hold of your skin. His teeth scrapes the skin, sucking it fervently, while his back pushes you flush against him, letting you feel all the ridges and contour of his skin. His heart rhymes with your, palpitating with galloping beats. A soft whine escapes Satoru's throat at this steamy turn of events.

This had to be the last straw that broke the camel’s back as your phone slides from your hand, falling somewhere on the floor. Your head tips back and a breathy moan ricochets the room as Satoru duly runs his tongue over the hickey that prickled a little.

You hear Satoru’s simpering resonating around the room as he pulls you up, now seated on the couch with you straddling his lap

“See, told you I’d win.” his hand caresses the newly formed mark that will definitely take a concealer or turtleneck to hide.

“You prick. Fuck you. You did that on purpose.”

“Tell me where it says I can’t do that.” he muses, shutting you up once again. Your lips jut in a pout as you stare at him.

His eyes are so blue, glossing with the reflection of the rain pouring outside. His forehead veiled with your most favourite part of his body – those fluffy tufts of hair and his lips curl into a toothy smile. The eyes brimming with love and admiration for you.

Even as he weaseled his way out with an upper hand, you don't feel any of it. Rather, you drink in the way he looks so haphazard. So messy. So homely.

Your hands reach to cup his face, feeling the physicality of his beauty before you lean down to press a kiss.

“The least I can do for you birthday is to let you win, I guess. Happy Birthday, sexy.” you murmur against his lips, taking them between your own.

He returns the kiss with the same vigour, his hands are now out of the sweater, holding your back for support, whilst pulling you close to him.

The flavour of your strawberry balm etches itself in Satoru’s mind and he never wishes to stop from relishing the taste of your soft lips. A calm havoc wreck his insides as he thanks whatever lies above for granting him the biggest gift of his life – you.

You break apart from him, his eyes deepening their shade of blue and his face carrying a lingering expression of passion. His chest heaves from deep breaths as you stare at him with confusion. He motions his eyes downwards, making you realise what’s the issue.

“Mind helping me out?”

a/n -> God I'd commit felonies to experience this especially with a 6'feet, white haired, blue eyed, freakishly handsome and annoying blockhead.

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unhingedmarvelandclassicwhobuff · 6 months

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According to the MCU wiki, the Blip is today. So I figured I'd take the time to detail the four biggest reasons why the time jump in Endgame was a universe-shatteringly horrible idea that should never have seen the light of day

the absolute biggest problem, of which there are many, is the fact that countless people died as collateral damage in the initial Snap. Hell, we are shown it in the Infinity War post-credit scene with those multiple car accidents and that helicopter slamming into a building. And that was just the tip of the iceberg; imagine how many planes crashed because the pilots were dusted, or how many babies starved because both their parents were dusted, or people who may have died on the operating table because a surgeon got dusted. All of these people are totally ignored. It's never so much as mentioned when talking about bringing everyone back, and Tony insisting that the last five years remain unchanged is implicitly saying all of those people remained dead when the dusted returned.

the second big problem with this plot point is that it's used as an excuse for every character except Nat to be totally unrecognizable. Bruce becomes Professor Hulk, Thor gets fat, Tony has a family (and I fucking love how the movie inadvertently says he just let the world rot for five years instead of using his billions of help. That is 100% in character for him), Clint went on a mass killing spree, and Steve... I actually have no idea what made him change so radically. None of this is shown to us at all, it's just told to us.

this is less a problem with Endgame and more a problem with Phases 4 and 5, but the other worse thing about this development is that absolutely nothing has been done with it. Far From Home played the time-jump for comedy, WandaVision had that one great scene in the hospital and then did nothing else, Shang-Chi had a singular throwaway line about the Blip, Hawkeye had that one neat visual of getting Snapped from Yelena's POV and then nothing else, Multiverse of Madness had a single conversation where Strange wonders if letting Tony have his way was the only way to save the universe, Quantumania had a single scene addressing the homelessness issue and then nothing else, and I think Secret Invasion tried to do a bit of a look at how Talos reacted to the Blip, but that show was so awful that I'd rather not think about it. The only projects to do anything at all with the Blip as a major plot point are Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Eternals.

the fourth and final massive problem with the Blip is pretty simple yet complicated; it ignores the absolutely insurmountable societal implications both the Snap and the Blip would have. Think about it; half the fucking universe disintegrates into ash. There are SO many things that would do to just human society alone. But even more importantly, five years after all those people were declared dead (meaning wills are executed, spouses remarried, jobs and homes redistributed, etc) those people suddenly reappear, and from their POV it's only been a second. Just to put it in perspective, the Snap happened on April 29th, 2018. Doesn't that feel like forever ago? If the Snap were real, all those people would have been gone until today. That is such a huge mindfuck that I'm shocked no one went insane. And even looking aside from the psychological impact, all those people are pretty fucking screwed. Far From Home had a single scene addressing this, then promptly forgot about it.

My final point is less of a problem and more of an amusing byproduct; since Tony directly forbids Bruce from undoing the last five years, that means the events of WandaVision, Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, Multiverse of Madness, and Secret Invasion are on some level his fault. That’s fucking hysterical.

I suppose I'll be absolutely fair and say that rewinding time isn't a morally perfect solution either, as you would be erasing any maturity the survivors gained during those five years, as well as anyone born in that time. But that's just all the more reason to NOT HAVE A FUCKING TIME-SKIP!!! I still think the only reason it was done was for cheap shock value.

All in all, the five-year time jump is the single worst major plot point in the MCU. Fight me.

#anti endgame #the blip was an awful idea #anti tony stark

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gojo-enthusiast · 6 months

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Satoru Gojo ~ Limit

After Satoru hadn’t seen his best friend Suguru since he had left Jujutsu High, he appears in front of him, declaring a war against non sorcerers. Your husband ends up taking out his frustration on you.

Word Count: <1984

MDI, 18+, heavy language, light choking, ass slapping, degrading, oral (f) , p in v, non consent , sorcerer, using safe-word.

Satoru Gojo was known for being a goofy guy, never really taking things serious, pulling pranks on Kento Nanami, picking on Megumi. Satoru was definitely the fun one in every group, never taking anything serious. Even when it was serious.

But today was the rare occasion where Satoru came home not in a good mood. Suguru had shown up to Jujutsu High, declaring a war. Kento had called you, telling you what was going on. When your husband walked in, you still talking to Nanami about the situation. Satoru overhearing you two speaking. “So now you talk to other men when I’m not around?” He says with an irritated tone. “Hey Ken, thanks for telling me. Have a goodnight!” You say before hanging up.

“Hey baby, I’m sorry. Kento had called about Suguru. How are you doing?” You say, walking up to him to embrace. You knew Geto was Satoru’s best friend, nothing and no one could replace that. “I’m fine.” He says, brushing you off. “Baby, hey.” You call out for him while he goes into the kitchen. “Y/n can you just leave me be.” He says looking at you with his piercing blue eyes.

Days went by, and Satoru didn’t even sleep in the same bed as you, didn’t kiss you, didn’t say hello to you. He didn’t even eat what you made for dinner, completely avoiding you at all cost. Finally after a week, you were over it. You weren’t going to sit here and deal with the neglect, you did nothing wrong. You spent the next couple days, standing in front of him, trying to talk. Turning off the TV as he was watching it, blocking the door when he was trying to leave. Because of his limitless infinity, you would try to touch him, hug him, kiss him. And he would activate it, making sure you don’t touch him. After 4 days, you’re angry, furious even.

“WHAT THE FUCK SATORU!” Your screaming, throwing a book at him, this time it actually hit him, because he didn’t expect you, you of all people, his kind, gentle, timid wife, to throw a book at him. “Fuck you!” You scream, throwing your glass at him, this time his barrier activates. Causing it to float right in front of him. He grabs it, slamming it on the counter, causing the glass to shatter.

“I told you, to leave me alone. I told you I want space!” He shouts, “I did nothing to you! Why am I getting punished? I’m sorry Suguru came back, and I’m sorry that you’re stressed, but you’re laughing with Yaga, and the student. But you’re neglecting me!” You cry out, “Oh boo fucking hoo, you crying?” He says with a snarky laugh, he was being such an asshole. You couldn’t believe how much of a dick he was being. “You are such a fucking asshole! Don’t be mad at me, because your boyfriend appears out of thin air, and now you realize you rather take it up the ass than be with me!” At this point you’re spitting none sense, only things to make him even angrier, because you’re angry at the neglect and coldness he is giving you.

When you three were teenagers, you and Kento would always joke around calling Suguru and Satoru boyfriends, they wouldn’t leave each other alone, wanting to spend every waking hour together. You never really had a crush on Satoru, but it wasn’t until Suguru left Jujutsu High, that Satoru finally saw you as a woman, as someone he saw his life with. So now just to get under his skin, you spit these words, trying to hurt him, the way he was hurting you.

“What did you just say?” He says in a quiet, almost quiet growl. “I just don’t understand why you’re taking this out on me.” You start to back away, feeling yourself get nervous at the sudden movements of him walking towards you. “No, say what you fucking said.” He says again, getting up to your face. “You really think I would fuck a man, or be fucked by a man?” He says angry, it’s almost as if foam was coming out of his mouth. He turned off his invisible barrier, getting close to your face, both hands on the side of your head. “You really think I’d rather fuck someone else, than fuck you? Well let me show you exactly who I fuck.” He hisses, grabbing you by your wrist, then picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Satoru stop, please.” You cry out, feeling the fear in your heart, the fear running down your spine to the tips of your toes. You had never seen him this way. “Shut the fuck up.” He spits, throwing you on the bed. In a blink of an eye, without you feeling or even seeing it for your own eyes, your clothes are ripped off your body. You are lying completely nude and defenseless. You have cursed technique but nothing special, you weren’t strong like Satoru, you weren’t even a grade 2. You simply did not want the life of a sorcerer, so you never put much effort. You could never match Satoru’s technique. No one could.

“You will see exactly what I fuck, and you’re going to fucking wish you never said that to me.” He says, flipping you over on your stomach, slapping your ass so hard that you yelp. He had never been this aggressive and physical. Of course Satoru was high energy, so he had a tendency to be a little rough, or fast, but never aggressive. “Satoru please.” You start to cry. “No, don’t you start crying now. You have all this shit to say, but now you want to wave the white flag.” His words coming out like venom. Slapping your ass once more, not realizing his own strength. He lifts you up by your neck, so your back is against his chest, while he lightly chokes you. He had some grip on his strength, not wanting to break you. You feel him unzip his pants, he pushes your legs apart, instantly stuffing himself inside of you. No prep, he was going to stuff the words you spit at him, all back into your cunt. You cry out, uncomfortable, feeling like you are being ripped in half, you weren’t even wet, you were scared of the man who you called your husband. And finally in that moment, for the first time ever, you used you and Satoru’s safe-word.

“Mochi” you whimper, all of a sudden he stops, letting go of your neck, pulling out immediately, and you drop on the bed on your face. You quickly get up, wrapping the blanket thrown across the bed around you. Looking at your husband, he was shocked at what he had just done to you. You had never once used your safe word, and the fact that you did in this very moment, he knew he fucked up.

“Princess, I’m so sorry.” Satoru chokes out, tears start to stream down his beaming blue eyes,

The blue eyes that almost lit up the room. He had fallen down to his knees, cradling your waist, his head pressed up against your lower stomach. “I’m so sorry.” He is full out crying, you feel the tears drop in between your toes. Even though you were scared just a couple minutes ago, you knew that, that behavior was not your husband. You gently run your hands through his hair, wanting him to feel a sense of ease. Even though your body still was slightly trembling. He looks up at you, through tears in his eyes.

“Princess I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just- I saw Suguru, and he whispered in my ear saying I better win, or he was gonna take my wife for himself. I know he was just saying that to fuck with me, but I just- when I see you, I was seeing you hurt, even dead. I t-thought if I pushed you away, you would be s-sa-safe.” Satoru cries out, his hands shaking, gripping around your legs/waist.

“Honey, Suguru will never get to me, because you’re here to protect me. You pushing me away, just puts me in danger, dontcha think?” You smile gently, still running your fingers through his hair. “I am so sorry, I love you princess. I’m s-sorry.” He whimpers into your stomach.

Eventually he had calmed himself down, you two were lying down on the bed you both shared, his head pressed against your chest, while you held him. You thought to yourself- “I should be the one getting comforted.” You think Gojo can read minds sometimes, because in that moment, he is on top of you, kissing your neck, your lips, your forehead. Whispering he loves you into your ear, caressing your face.

“Y’ur so beautiful baby.” He says, sucking on your neck. “Let me show you how much I love you.” He whispers, “I promise I won’t hurt you baby.” He adds, pulling the blanket off your naked body.

“Satoru I don’t want to have sex tonight, please.” You whimper, the last thing you wanted to do was have sex after what just happened. “I don’t either.” He says, kissing down your abdomen, to your thighs. “I just want to please my princess, nothing else. ‘m Promise.” He says, spreading your legs, “Satoru.” You moan out, as he opens your folds, placing his tongue instantly on your clit, lapping figure eights right on it. “Fuck princess you always taste so sweet.” He moans into your pussy.

He continues to flick his tongue back in forth, from your sore hole, up your clit, bringing moans out of you. “Taste so’m sweet.” He mumbles, going quicker. Sticking his tongue into your hole, while his thumb is rubbing your clit gently.

“Mm’ cumming Satoru.” You moan out, making him quicken his pace. “Cum on my face baby.” He says, forcing his tongue into your hole, rubbing your clit even faster, his free hand reaching up, playing with your nipple. “Fuck, yes, mm’ just like that.” you whimper, feeling that knot in your stomach about to break. “Yes, cum on my face baby.” He moans, and just like that, you’re cumming, squirting all over his face. Your juices trickling out of your soaked cunt, while he is savoring every drop.

“Yes baby, just like that.” He moans, still licking you into overstimulation. “Fuckkkkk-“ your bucking your hips, feeling another one erupt from the pit of your stomach. And there you go again, cumming all over his tongue, while he’s licking you clean. You had finally gotten your vision back, after seeing stars, and your eyes hazing over. Your husband steps out of the bedroom, into the bathroom. And you hear the bath water turning on, and he enters back into the bedroom picking you up.

“Let’s take a bath baby.” He kisses your forehead- “I’ll wash you, you don’t have to lift a finger my princess.” He says gently laying you in the tub, putting a bath-bomb in.

“I love you Satoru.” You whisper, feeling your eyes drift close, ready to fall asleep. “I love you more baby, I’m so sorry for what I did.” He says kissing your neck as he got in the bath with you. You drifted off to sleep in the arms of your husband who you knew would always protect you, and he did just that.

When he killed Suguru, he made sure you were somewhere where no one but himself and Kento could find you in case of worst case scenario. Even you didn’t know where you were, telling you to stay put, and he would be back. He came back, dropping to his knees, crying until he had fallen asleep in your arms. This was love, this was his peace, and all of it, was with you.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru smut #gojo angst

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chuuyrr · 2 years

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triple black

bungou stray dogs x gojo! reader

masterlist of infinity

╰➤ CW(s): major spoilers for bungou stray dogs (dragon's head conflict), jujutsu kaisen (gojo's past arc and jujutsu kaisen 0 is heavily referenced) and mentions of violence

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: an alternate universe in which the young holder of the six eyes and limitless ability user is under the influence of port mafia rather than heiwa, along with two other young mafiosos, nakahara chuuya and dazai osamu.

╰➤ PAIRING(s): 17! dazai & 17! chuuya x 17! reader (no established relationship, can be romantic or platonic)

╰➤ WORD COUNT: 3.4k+

honestly didn't know what i was going for, but here's a drabble i made while stressing over school :") enjoy

chuuya and dazai were about seventeen years old when the port mafia boss summoned them both to his office. it has been roughly a year since the dragon's head conflict, an 88-day underground conflict in yokohama between various underground organizations that is regarded as the darkest conflict in the city's history. it has also been a year since the formation of double black.

however, being an underground organization always meant violence and bloodshed, resulting in the emergence of another conflict, this time fought solely by the port mafia, so the two young mafiosi weren't surprised when an underground organization had declared war on their's.

"hurry up, chuuya. god, you're so slow."

"you just walk too fast, vagabond."

"no, you just have short legs."

"i'm going to beat the sh—"

the two sixteen-year-olds shifted their gaze to the young woman speaking to mori as soon as they entered the office and were welcomed by the light peeking through the glass panes. dazai and chuuya noticed your unusual and unfamiliar attire: a black high-neck zipped up jacket, a mini skirt, thigh-high heeled boots, and white bandages covering your eyes.

"boss, you called," chuuya cleared his throat, catching mori’s and your attention.

"ah, chuuya-kun, dazai-kun," mori acknowledged the two with a close-eyed smile, "i apologize for the wait, i was just discussing some things with our newest member."

mori's introduction of you followed suit as they stared intently at your eccentric figure and style, "this is gojo [name]-chan, and she will be working with the two of you starting today," he then motioned over to them for you, "this is nakahara chuuya-kun and dazai osamu-kun."

the two young mafiosi were taken aback. they were struck by your charisma and beauty despite the fact that they couldn't see the color of your eyes due to the bandages covering them. you notably had [color] hair that seemed to have been purposely dyed due to your snow-white roots, and delicate features.

chuuya cleared his throat and swallowed the lump that had formed, and dazai's lips twitched into a smirk just by looking at you. you were making them feel things they didn't know they had for someone like you. you were practially taking their breath away.

"well, well, if it's not double black," you began, folding your arms across your chest and smiling, "i'm honored."

"tch, someone did their research," chuuya remarked mockingly before averting his gaze away from you, finally mustering enough courage and composure to speak after being awestruck by you.

"oi, chuuya!" chuuya let out a small surprised yet irritated yelp as dazai jabbed an elbow to his side, "where are your manners? how could you be so rude to someone as ravishing as [name]-chan over here?"

"ohoho~ you flatter me way too much, dazai-kun," you snickered fondly at his comment.

"oh, i'm just being honest," dazai said dismissively, waving his hand dismissively, "unlike chuuya-kun over here, i'm a gentleman, so don't mind him at all, [name]-chan~"

chuuya exclaimed angrily with a nerve protruding on his temple, "HAH?!"

"well, would you look at that? i had a feeling you three would get along just fine," mori chuckled fondly as he watched the three of you 'bond' with each other.

"dazai-kun, chuuya-kun, you better not let me down. i will now entrust [name]-chan to your care. understood?" when the port mafia boss asked, the two young mafiosi noticed his eyes darken for a split second.

but they both brushed it off and responded promptly.

“understood, boss.”

“yes, yes, mori-san.”

chuuya's genuine impression of you was downright annoying. he despised the fact that you acted so much like dazai, particularly how you dressed up like him. your eyes are bandaged, whereas dazai's arms and right eye are bandaged.

he even thought you were blind at first, which may or may not have bothered him until you started ranting to him about how you were covering your eyes to hide and keeping an immense power you had inherited from a god at bay dramatically with a closed fist to your chest.

if only chuuya knew you weren't actually joking.

dazai, on the other hand, developed an interest in you. you were a complex person, and honestly? he recognized himself in you.

while you were bubbly and friendly to them and the rest of the organization, constantly addressing everyone with familiar suffixes like -chan and -kun at every opportunity, you were notably cunning and ruthless when it came to enemies and higher-ups.

he and chuuya were genuinely perplexed as to why mori still keeps you around when you're much more of a problem child of the mafia compared to dazai. you liked to break the rules and do things your own way, but that was before the night parade of a hundred demons.

you, dazai, and chuuya were present at the meeting with the higher-ups about an underground organization posing a threat to port mafia when the elephant in the room was discussed.

"gojo? oi, gojo."

when one of the higher-ups showed an image of the man behind the incoming dispute, chuuya couldn't help but feel nervous at your sudden undecipherable expression. it was terrifying to see you staring so blankly behind those bandages on your eyes.

dazai asked, blinking as he glanced at chuuya, then to you, "[name]-chan?"

"suguru."

your voice was barely audible as you clenched your hands into closed, trembling fists. at that precise moment, an ominous aura began to emanate from you, and it reeked of danger while also feeling sad, at least according to dazai and chuuya.

at that moment, gojo [name] had turned into something else. a slip of the mask, eh?

"you know this man, gojo?" one of the higher-ups inquired, noticing your expression, which prompted the others to look at you suspiciously.

"geto suguru," you answered louder this time.

"and how do you know him?" they inquired further as dazai and chuuya's eyes widened in response to your next answer.

"he was my best friend."

your lack of emotion in your tone of voice was enough to unnerve the two mafiosi with you. in fact, you were unusually quiet for the duration of the meeting, but when asked for an opinion, you offered strategies and ideas that were comparable to dazai's, just like a true mafia with black blood.

even if dazai could see how hurt you were behind the stoic mask you were wearing to hide your emotions, you don't let them get to you.

you were also an enigma. when you joined the port mafia, you had no record of your past. in fact, you just simply appeared out of nowhere, and judging by your actions, you weren't looking for a high-ranking position in the organization even if you had the potential and wits, as mori himself assigned you to tasks that involved higher-ups' work, which is why dazai and chuuya figured you out, at least partially for now.

it was midnight on december 23, two days before christmas, and just before the aforementioned war between the port mafia and the underground organization led by geto suguru, the cursed spirit ability user.

when you entered the room after disappearing without a trace and refusing to answer any calls, even from your own boss and superiors, chuuya was leaning against the wall in one of port mafia's offices, sharpening his knife with a whetstone, while dazai simply lounged on a velvet cushioned sofa.

"oi, where the hell were you?" chuuya asked, pausing from sharpening his knife, "do you have any idea how many of us were looking for you, gojo? even the boss himself thought you were taken hostage or something!"

"i just went somewhere," you shrugged casually before taking a seat on another sofa across dazai, past chuuya.

"and where's somewhere?" dazai asked, shifting his gaze to you, watching you cross one leg over the other, arms spread across the back of the sofa, seemingly staring at the ceiling.

"you guys sure do love me, always looking for me, eh?" you clicked your tongue, smirking.

"just answer the goddamn question!" yelled an irritated chuuya, "you've done nothing but disappear for the past few days, and when you do show up, all you do is pick a fight with a fucking executive."

"if i tell you, chuuya-kun, you'd just skin me alive with that knife of yours," you tipped your head to the side before turning back to face him.

chuuya's patience was running thin, so he aimed his knife at you, but before it could strike you, you had moved to the side, the knife stabbing through the wall instead.

"alright, alright. i'll confess, but it'll be a dead giveaway if i just cut to the chase," you whistled, shaking your head with your hands raised in the air, only for your expression to darken, causing chuuya and dazai to stare at you with narrowed eyes, "so, let's start at the top. why do you think mori-sensei suddenly recruited a new member, just a few days before the conflict, hmm?”

"what in the fuck?" chuuya spat out.

"don't give me that. think about it, come on." you insisted either way.

chuuya locked his gaze on you for a brief moment before opening his mouth to speak, only to have dazai beat him to it, much to his annoyance, "you made a deal with him. a deal involves the port mafia providing protection in exchange for you becoming a member."

"and why did i do it?" you inquired.

"the boss knows that if it's anyone, you're the best candidate for the dispute between the port mafia and that geto suguru guy's little gang," chuuya replied this time, earning an eye roll from dazai, "you know him, and you know that getting into the port mafia will give you the upper hand in putting an end to him. in simpler terms, it's beneficial for both ways."

"very good," you said, clapping your hands, "now where do you think i went just now?"

"easy, you saw geto suguru himself, didn't you now, [name]-chan?" dazai exclaimed, his lips twitching into a smirk, "you had your background completely erased when you joined the port mafia, but the truth is that you used to be a member of heiwa, the organization that runs tokyo. you went there to completely cut ties with them, only to run into him, and before you ask how i knew that, it's because of geto suguru's background. i couldn't help but recall your expression and reaction when he was mentioned in our last meeting with the higher-ups. you two were once under heiwa's command, but he defected and you soon followed."

you chuckled, "looks like you two really do love me that much." instead of a smirk on your face this time, it was a genuine smile, "good job."

the night parade of a hundred demons was an understatement. the cursed man himself dispatched over two thousand mutilated monstrosities to bring down the port mafia. you were on the front lines with dazai and chuuya, as well as a large number of the organization's subordinates.

the port mafia was losing members one by one, including your own group, which was agitating you. those cursed beings were no laughing matter for those without abilities was unfortunate, but you had to persevere despite everything. there was no time for you to wallow in guilt, and there will be no tears shed either.

"tch, your ex-best friend sure is shit, gojo," chuuya scoffed, his eyes narrowing at the new swarm of monstrosities charging towards you and everyone else.

although the three of you had been fighting and moving forward for what seemed like an eternity, it was becoming infuriating and vexing.

"tell me about it," you sighed deeply, arms folded and a single hand cupped your face.

"so much for lovers' quarrels," dazai remarked, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

you snorted, pointing at him and chuuya, saying, "you're one to talk," to which dazai and chuuya gagged and held disgusted expressions.

"WE ARE NOT A THI—chuuya began to argue when a broken air conditioner was sent flying towards your direction from behind, causing him to scream in concern instead, "GOJO!"

the broken air conditioner merely hit something else, and an unseen force miraculously protected you just as chuuya was about to shield you. chuuya's eyes widened with the rest of them. before it could even make contact with you, the air conditioner that was facing you shattered into pieces.

what was that just now? why weren't you hurt? there is not a single scratch or piece of debris on you either.

you clicked your tongue in annoyance as you turned around to see a tall man dressed in a white outfit and blue sunglasses holding a rope in front of the monstrosities behind him.

"let me introduce myself; my name is miguel, and I'm your opponent, gojo [name]," he said, a grin on his face and a hand on his hip.

before chuuya could finish his sentence, you had turned your head over your shoulder and grabbed the bandages covering your eyes, loosening them with a single pull to reveal an eccentric, electric blue iris filled with pure rage. there it was once more. your mask has slipped; your entire playful and casual exterior had been wiped clean.

"sorry, but you're running on thin ice."

you had vanished from view, leaving only a brief disturbance in the air, only to reappear where your opponent was. the man whipped his rope towards you, only for you to flick it upwards with your hand.

'that rope of his has something unusual woven into it.' you thought, narrowing your eyes.

you quickly shifted your attention away from your thoughts and extended your right hand, not breaking eye contact with miguel, saying, "you're in the way."

a luminous red ball appeared and darted towards the monstrosity that was being shot down by the port mafia's subordinates as well as chuuya and his gravity manipulation, blowing a hole right in its face and effortlessly destroying all the glass panes and foundations of all the surrounding buildings, leaving behind a much more massive mass of destruction and a series of gasps and surprised looks from the port mafia. you just obliterated that thing as if it were nothing at all.

"what the fuck was that just now?!" chuuya exclaimed, clutching his hat, which was nearly blown away by the violent wind caused by your ability, "gojo could do that this entire time?!”

"my, my, our [name]-chan just snapped," dazai whistled, merely shrugging his shoulders at chuuya and the rest of their men's reactions to you as his black coat flew in the air from the immense turbulence of air in the atmosphere.

dazai couldn't take his gaze away from you, especially the crystalline blue that was exposed by your bandages. this was the first time he saw the six eyes you possessed, the true reason mori recruited and agreed to a deal with you.

you weren't just an ordinary ability user. you were a valuable asset to have, especially with your raw, untamed strength right now. dazai knew you were hiding something from the moment he met you through mori, and he could tell just by deduction, but he, like chuuya, was surprised; dazai didn't expect you to be this dangerously strong, with such an ability. In his eyes, you were a dangerous yet beautiful storm.

a terrifying force to be reckoned with.

miguel lunged at you while simultaneously using his rope, and you retaliated without hesitation. you easily avoided all of his hits and whips before taking a high jump back. miguel used his rope to grab and break electrical lines, but you simply jumped high enough to avoid the electricity leaking from the lines and manipulated that same unseen force to cut through and cause a smoke explosion from the collision.

leaping and bursting from the debris and smoke in mid-air, you immediately clasped your hands together and vanished out of sight, just in time for another one of those damned things to jump on you.

as the demonic creature that tried to get you fell and crashed to the ground from the building, miguel used his rope once more, this time to swing himself upwards at you who was somehow upside down in mid-air this time, but he merely crashed into that same unseen force that chuuya couldn't figure out.

with that, you flipped yourself upright and thrust your leg upwards then downwards, kicking him down with such force that miguel crashed to the ground alongside dazai, chuuya, and the other port mafia members.

even so, you didn't give your opponent a chance to catch his breath. you immediately engaged him in hand-to-hand combat, sending aggressive and domineering attacks one after the other with such precision and speed that miguel couldn't block any hit you sent him.

you literally gave nakahara chuuya, the mafia's deemed strongest martial artist, a run for his money. it was just straight up harassment at this point, and the fact that you were raining hell on him while wearing an indecipherable expression on your face was terrifying. your opponent coughed up blood as you threw and punched him towards a broken lamppost, delivering the finishing blow.

"oi, oi, [name]-chan, you're not going to leave us in the dust, are you?" dazai's voice trailed behind you, and his voice alone was enough to bring you back to reality, especially since you were about to walk back towards miguel with your right hand outstretched, presumably to construct another one of those red spheres.

"oops, looks like i overdid it," you smirked as you straightened your posture and looked over your shoulder to see him and chuuya approaching you.

"tch, why the fuck were you messing around this whole time when you have that ability?" chuuya focused his gaze on you.

"consider it my surprise, chuuya-kun," you chuckled, placing a hand on your hip.

your conversation was immediately cut off short however when a new presence had made himself known. the three of you averted your gaze and found yourselves coming face to face with a tall, slim man with long black hair partially tied up behind his head while the rest draped down his back, sporting a gold-colored kasaya garment over black yukata robes. he stared at you, then at dazai and chuuya who returned his stare with a dark glare.

"i didn't expect you to replace shoko and i with those two already," he exclaimed, pretending to be hurt as he feigned a frown, "you sure are cruel, [name]."

dazai and chuuya exchanged a brief glance as they took a step forward, almost as if they were both standing guard in front of you. you couldn't help but feel your lips twitched into a smirk. you've only known them for a short time, but their actions were sufficient to provide the big picture.

dazai and chuuya, on the other hand, didn't like how this young man was so familiar with you. although it was obvious that you and suguru used to be members of the same organization and best friends, he was a traitor, and chuuya, who was known for his unwavering loyalty, found this unacceptable.

who did he think he was for returning to you, let alone declaring war on the port mafia?

without another word, dazai immediately equipped himself with a gun, and chuuya activated his gravitational control ability as you completely removed the bandages covering your eyes, allowing yourself to make direct eye contact with geto suguru himself, even if it meant it would be the last time you'd see him with your very six eyes, and knowing how extremely painful it would be.

as you had already defected from heiwa, you had made a deal with the port mafia and pledged your loyalty. there was no going back now. you made the decision to stop him and protect the other children much younger than you back at heiwa from him.

work in dark to serve light.

so, with a heavy heart, you, along with dazai osamu and nakahara chuuya, attacked.

after closing the record file and putting away the worn out bandage and hair tie, as well as his pen, ango took hold of his glasses and adjusted them before sighing.

"in the memorable night of the night parade of a hundred demons, dazai osamu, nakahara chuuya, and gojo [name] defeated an enemy organization in a short amount of time, and as a result, they were dubbed as miekuro among other underground organizations. they are also known as "yokohama's vicious trio" after that."

(fun fact: 三重 (mie) means triple, and 黒 (kuro) means black.)

579 notes · View notes

beefromanoff · 5 months

Text

Going Under Ch. 27

summary: the team has had enough of the lovebirds so they take a little getaway back to the city!

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: About You - the 1975

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: okay OKAY this is big, I'm so sorry for the delay! for a while I was getting multiple chapters up in a week and it's taken me like two weeks to finish this one! partly because I wanted to let the last one simmer and didn't know how to follow it up - partly because life was crazy! I had a birthday and was off doing who knows what, but I'm BACK! thanks for the patience and all the loveeee! enjoy!

chapter list

________________________________

“That’s it. I’m moving back to New York.” Sam declared, pushing back from the table. “I’m about to stab myself in the ears.”

“Oh come on, it’s not…horrible.” Steve looked at him apologetically as the sound of a headboard against a wall interrupted him mid-sentence.

A collective groan rang out around the table, Natasha dropping her hand onto her hands and Peter sliding his plate away slowly. It had been just over a week since Gianna and Bucky had officially consummated their relationship and the whole compound knew about it. Those unfortunate enough to share a floor with them had it the worst, hearing the evidence of their passion up to three times every day. Bucky hadn’t helped with training in several days, at Steve’s insistence. When two recruits came in early to get warmed up for their training session and found Gianna pressed up against a wall, legs wrapped around the Winter Soldier himself -- they decided the extra sparring wasn’t worth it. It was an unspoken rule to avoid the dock altogether. What was the setting for their first real kiss had since become a favorite lovemaking spot, especially at sunset.

As much as everyone preferred not to hear the chorus of moans during breakfast, not one person was unhappy about their relationship.

If anyone had experienced more than a lifetime’s worth of pain, it was James Buchanan Barnes.

If anyone had brought color back to his life, a smile back to his face…it was Gianna Cruz. She’d charmed everyone she’d come into contact with on the compound, everything about her oozing genuine sweetness.

They deserved this. They deserved each other.

Everyone else, however, couldn’t help but wonder what the hell they did to deserve this front row ticket to a downright pornographic soundtrack.

“Mornin.’”

The team looked up from their discarded plates, snapping out of whatever daydream they were using to escape reality. Bucky strode towards them, tugging a shirt down over his stomach. His gray sweatpants didn’t leave much to the imagination, especially with the recent excitement not fully out of his system.

“Sleep well, princess?” Sam called from his position leaning against the counter. Bucky narrowed his eyes, regarding him as though deciding if he wanted to growl something back. He settled on something more peaceful.

“Fine.”

“Funny, because I could have sworn I heard you up around 2am.” Nat smirked.

“Now that you mention it,” Wanda pretended to scratch her head in confusion. “I think I heard that too. Or was it 5am?”

“You guys can joke all you want, but I have the room right below them. I might actually need therapy.” Peter deadpanned.

Uncharacteristically quiet amidst the team’s teasing, Bucky poured himself a mug of black coffee and leaned against the counter across from Sam. He sipped the hot drink, looking mildly amused.

“Isn’t this the part where you tell us to shut the hell up or you’ll chokeslam someone out a window?” Sam cocked his head.

“Something tells me he did enough choking last night.” Nat’s smirk only grew.

A half smile played across his face, stubble growing longer than usual from his lack of shaving over the past few days. He said nothing, sipping his coffee again.

“Well? Anything to say for yourself there, Barnes?”

“You guys sound bitter.” He grinned. “You all need to get laid.”

_________________________________________________

Gianna’s POV

“Hurry back!” I called from the tangled mess of comforter and sheets, admiring the view of Bucky’s lower back as he disappeared through the door, still pulling his shirt down. My stomach growled. I’d been utterly ravenous lately. Something about sleeping with a super soldier, you’re gonna burn a lot of calories. Thank God my bedroom was close to the kitchen.

Our routine for the past week had been pretty simple. Eat, sleep…fuck.

Well, it wasn’t always fucking. Sometimes it was sweet, gentle, soft. Something that could only be considered making love. Other times…

“Bucky…” I giggled as his hand slid up my shirt in the dark, empty training room.

“It’s okay, we’re so early. Sessions don’t start for another hour.” He grinned, gripping my waist and lifting me up. I couldn’t help the little squeal that escaped me. His hair was still slightly sweaty from his morning run, the smell of him almost intoxicating.

“If you say so, Sarge.” We walked backwards as he kissed me, holding me up as if I was weightless. I wrapped my legs around him, wanting to be as close as possible every single second of every single day. When my back gently hit the wall, I felt cold metal fingers slide underneath my skirt, searching for panties to pull to the side.

I wasn’t wearing any.

Bucky groaned into my open mouth, fumbling with his own waistband instead. In a flurry of sweaty kisses and desperate grips, he was inside me. Right there, up against the padded training room wall. I cried out, biting my lip to keep quiet as our sounds echoed through the empty room.

My fingers tangled in his damp hair, my head falling back as he kissed my neck, my collarbone. I was putty in his hands. He was so strong. So steady. He held me up with one hand, the other cupping my face as I moaned. He never broke his steady, desperate pace of thrusts into me.

It sounded like somewhere far away where a door opened and someone sucked in a sharp breath. I was somewhere between utter bliss and intense pleasure and quite honestly didn’t give a shit who saw. When the door slammed behind whoever it was as they fled, I laughed into our kiss until my laughter was drowned by the peak of pleasure he always made sure to give me.

“Miss me?” Bucky breezed back through the door, two steaming mugs in his hands. He handed one to me as he slid back into bed with me.

“Always,” I sipped the coffee, not caring that it was bitter and black. I just needed something to stop the growling in my stomach. “Were they mad?”

He grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Buck,” I elbowed him. “It’s been over a week since we’ve been at breakfast, or any meal…I feel bad.”

“Want me to make you feel good instead?”

“Bucky Barnes!” I gasped in mock offense, ignoring the unironic flutters in my stomach.

“Don’t worry about them.” He stroked a strand of my undoubtedly messy hair behind my ear. “Besides, they won’t have to worry about it for a few days.”

“Hmm, and why is that?”

“I thought we could go up to the Tower for a few days. Just us. It’s not like they’re going to miss me in training anyways, clearly they can get on just fine.” Bucky sipped his coffee. “It’s been a while since we’ve been in the city, and we haven’t really ever been…alone. The tower will be empty for a few days. I figured, I mean if everyone wanted, I thought they could fly out for Thanksgiving later this week. There’s a great view of the parade from the balcony and I thought -”

“Yes.” I couldn’t help cutting him off. He over-explained when he was nervous and as adorable as it was, I couldn’t wait a second longer to tell him how much I loved his idea. “James Buchanan Barnes, that sounds completely and utterly perfect.”

He smiled, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I was hoping you’d say that. We leave in an hour.”

_________________________________________________

The Quintet sailed through the night sky, its sleek form navigating the clouds effortlessly. Seated in the co-pilot's chair, Gianna watched the blur of terrain below, marveling at the view as Bucky guided the aircraft towards New York.

"You know, you're pretty hot as a pilot." she remarked with a grin.

He grinned, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "This is one of the more difficult flights I’ve had."

“Really? Why?” Her brows furrowed.

“Because I need to keep my eyes on the sky, but all I want to do is look at the girl in the seat next to me.”

Gianna's fingers traced the edge of the console as she blushed. Her gaze rose to the miles of red and orange forest that stretched out before them, soaking in the beauty that was fall in the Northeast.

"So, smooth talker, what's the plan for our little New York adventure?" she inquired.

"I figured we'd keep it simple. A stroll through Central Park, see the leaves before they fall. Maybe get dressed up in honor of our first dinner outside the bedroom in eight days. And, of course, a visit to that coffee shop you like so much."

Eyes crinkled in adoration, she responded, "You remembered."

"There’s nothing about you I want to forget." He removed his hand briefly from the control panel to squeeze her knee.

"You're smooth, Barnes." She grinned, hugging her knees to her chest in the bucket seat. “But I never said I was ready to stop eating all of our meals in the bedroom.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her, grinning. “As you wish.”

As they talked, the Quintet flew past the blur of colored below, emerging towards the industrial hues of the city. Bucky guided them through the familiar skyline towards the impossible to miss Avengers’ Tower. Gianna watched the buildings fly by beneath them, fully at ease whenever she was with him. As they descended onto the landing platform that was nearly in the clouds itself, she couldn’t help but feel like the city had never been this colorful in all the years she’d lived here alone.

_________________________________________________

The soft glow of the city's night seeped through the curtains, casting a muted radiance in the room. Almost the entire day had been a blur, with their bags dropped on the ground within seconds of the elevator doors closing behind them. They’d collapsed to the ground in a mess of kisses and hands and laughter.

Lovemaking.

After dozing off on the criminally soft carpet, they’d settled into Bucky’s room. Somehow, after offering to pour them some wine, Gianna found herself bent over the bar where she had drunkenly kissed him a few months prior.

Fucking.

After a long, steamy shower, they’d decided it was best for them to go out. Get out of the house, if only to preserve their bodies from the ravenous desires that didn’t seem to be slowing down.

Finally, Gianna emerged from the bedroom, fastening her second earring. She was adorned in a dress that flowed around her, a dark green that pulled a sparkle from her eyes. Standing up from the barstool where he waited for her, Bucky let out a low whistle.

"Wow," he remarked, offering a half-smile. “You look…wow.”

Gianna grinned, a hint of blush coloring her cheeks. "Has it been that long since I brushed my hair?"

He extended his arm. "Shall we?"

She chuckled, slipping her arm through his. "Lead the way, kind sir."

The stepped into the elevator and Gianna didn’t hide her gaze as it raked over him. A simple black dress shirt with black slacks, hugging him in all the right places. As much as she loved him with bedhead, he looked so damn handsome with his hair tucked behind his ears. As they reached the bottom, she noticed something different – one of Tony's vintage convertible sports cars gleaming in the front circle drive.

"Is this...?" she began, eyes wide.

Bucky nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. "A classy ride for a classy lady."

Gianna laughed, genuine surprise lighting up her features. "I…wow. I didn’t expect this.”

"I’m full of surprises," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he opened the passenger door for her.

As they settled into the plush leather seats of the car, Bucky turned the key, and the engine purred to life. They glided through the city streets, the wind tousling Gianna's hair. It was warm for November in New York, but the breeze gave her a chill nonetheless.

"So why the car tonight?" she asked, watching the city lights streak by.

Bucky glanced at her, a playful grin forming. "I thought it would be good to remind ourselves that we can have a normal night out. No security, no fanfare. Just two people enjoying each other's company."

Gianna smiled, the simplicity of the sentiment resonating with her. "Normal sounds nice."

"Besides," he added, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "I don’t think you need security considering the company you’re in."

She laughed, leaning back against the seat. "True, although I’m more concerned about fangirls coming after you than me these days."

Bucky steered them into the valet circle in front of one of Gianna's favorite restaurants, an Italian place on the edge of town. A soft Frank Sinatra song greeted them as they parked, and he offered Gianna his arm once more as he helped her from the vehicle.

"Ready for a calm, normal night out?" he asked, his gaze steady.

"As long as the night in afterwards is anything but," she replied, her sultry smile a direct contrast to the sweetness of her face. She could have sworn she heard a low growl escape his lips as he held the door open for her.

_________________________________________________

The soft hum of conversation and the clink of cutlery against fine china surrounded them as they enjoyed the cozy ambiance of the intimate Italian restaurant. Candlelight flickered, casting warm shadows on the walls as they savored the last bites of their meal.

As the server cleared their plates, Bucky took a sip of his wine, eyes never leaving Gianna. "You know, you're even more enchanting under this light."

Gianna grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Barnes."

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I don't need flattery. Maybe just a bit more wine."

She lifted her wine glass in a mock toast before downing the rest of her glass, never breaking eye contact.

Their playful banter melted into a comfortable silence as they browsed the dessert menu. The restaurant's atmosphere, the classic love songs softly playing over the speakers, the warmth in Gianna’s stomach from the wine…all of it yielded to a moment that seemed to suspend in time.

Bucky broke the quiet, his tone soft but sincere. "I…I never thought I'd find someone who could pull me out of the shadows. Gianna…you saved me in ways I didn't know I needed saving."

Gianna reached across the table, her fingers finding his. "And you, Bucky Barnes, have saved me so many times I lost count. You saved me from people, from circumstances. But even more than that…you saved me from feeling alone in this world. I've traveled to so many places, performed in front of countless crowds, but it always felt like I was on the outside looking in. Until you." She squeezed his hand.

Their gazes held, a silent acknowledgment of the confessions they’d both laid bare. The restaurant's soundtrack of old-school ballads seemed to underscore the emotions in the air.

Bucky stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "I thought I could feel this way. After everything. I didn’t think I could feel so...alive." He shook his head, looking down. “I’m sorry, I’m not as good with words as you.”

Gianna's eyes softened, and she smiled. "Funny, I was thinking the exact opposite. You make me feel alive, too.”

He raised his glass with the hand not holding hers. “To feeling alive.” Their glasses clinked, the last of their wine not holding a candle to the intoxication from the buzz between them.

_________________________________________________

The car purred to a stop in front of the Avengers' Tower, its vintage frame a testament to another time. It was perfect for her forties’ man, with all his charm, Gianna thought as she leaned comfortably against Bucky's shoulder in the seat. The afterglow of their dinner date still lingered as they pulled to the front circle drive. The familiar sight of a small crowd greeted them. Fans, recognizably holding posters and notebooks, mingled with the ever-present paparazzi, their cameras flashing like strobe lights. Gianna shared a glance with Bucky, her expressive eyes conveying a mix of humor and a hint of apprehension.

Bucky extended his arm to Gianna as they stepped out of the car, a subtle nod of solidarity exchanged between them. To their astonishment, the clamor for autographs and attention was almost evenly divided between the pop star and the previously polarizing Winter Soldier.

A group of young girls, their eyes wide with admiration, eagerly held out notebooks and printed photos for Bucky to sign. Gianna, ever the good sport, grinned at the irony of the situation. Just as she predicted, with his rugged charm and a hint of vulnerability, Bucky was attracting just as much attention from the fans as she was. He paused, looking at her apprehensively. Gianna nodded in encouragement, releasing his arm so he could sign the various things being thrust out to him.

The paparazzi, relentless in their pursuit of a scoop, bombarded them with questions. Gianna, accustomed to the circus of public life, fielded inquiries with her signature grace and media training. "Oh, you know, just enjoying a night out in the city." She flashed her dazzling smile, patiently waiting for Bucky to finish.

Bucky, a stoic figure in the midst of the whirlwind, focused on signing autographs. The paparazzi, sensing an opportunity for a more intimate story, decided to push their luck.

"Sergeant Barnes, any truth to the rumors that you and Gianna Cruz are more than just coworkers?"

Bucky, without missing a beat, shot a look at Gianna, his blue eyes carrying a hint of playfulness. "Did this look like a business meeting to you?"

A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd, the tension momentarily diffused. Gianna winked at him. "He's the best bodyguard I’ve ever had. Very committed to his job."

The crowd chuckled, appreciating the banter between the unlikely duo. The paparazzi, determined to get a headline, persisted. "But seriously, all those nights on the road, living at the compound…it must make for blurred lines!”

This time, Bucky hesitated for a split second, narrowing his eyes at the personal question. He ignored it and went back to signing for the giddy teenage girls.

"Gianna, over here! How was the date?"

"Is it true you two are a couple?"

"Mr. Barnes, are you falling for the pop star?"

The questions came rapid-fire, but Gianna, well-versed in the art of dodging personal queries, maintained her poise. "Can’t go wrong with a meal at Avanzare’s, I highly recommend the lasagna."

Bucky, however, wasn't as accommodating. As fans clamored for autographs, Bucky's only half of his attention was on them, keeping a close watch on Gianna the entire time. No one dared step closer to her with the intense look in Bucky’s eye challenging them. Gianna, fully at ease, smiled and engaged with the fans.

Then came the question that altered the script. "Bucky Barnes, the Quarterback for the New York Jets recently went on record saying he was, and I quote ‘absolutely in love with Gianna Cruz. Do you have any comments for that?"

Gianna rolled her eyes. Another celebrity she’d never met, name dropping her on a late night show in hopes of going viral. An old, tired PR trick. Bucky, distracted from the question by his split focus on the fans and Gianna’s safety, spoke candidly.

“Yeah, he can join the club.”

The revelation hung in the air, a collective gasp from the crowd. Bucky, realizing what he had admitted, turned to Gianna. She stood there, a mixture of surprise and giddiness on her face, mirrored by the expressions of the onlookers.

"I..." Bucky spoke slowly. “I am so…unbelievably, uncontrollably, stupidly, insanely in love with her.”

His words were hanging in the night air as he blindly tossed the sharpie he was holding back to a fan and stepped to Gianna. She was beaming so widely her cheeks hurt.

“It’s about time you said so.” She spoke softly. “Here I’ve been, hopelessly in love since the first week of tour.” He looked down at her, running his fingers down the back of her arms. Goosebumps erupted in their wake.

“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m in love with you. I don’t care if the whole goddamn world knows it.”

In a flash, he scooped Gianna up, spun her around and kissed her. Without setting her down or breaking the kiss, Bucky walked into the front doors of Stark Tower, the facial recognition somehow allowing them in despite their faces being pressed together.

The paparazzi seized the moment, their cameras clicking furiously. The fans, witnessing a real-life drama unfold, erupted into applause. The reporter who’d asked the question blinked, still processing what had happened.

"Well, that's a headline I didn't see coming."

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x oc #bucky fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #winter solider x reader #winter soldier fluff #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut

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gojifan97 · 2 years

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Ask game: AU where Vader found Luke when he was nine and potentially stealing parts from his ship. Please.

Vader didn't even mean to be on Tatooine. His ship broke down and had to make a pitstop there, despite Vader trying to go literally anywhere else.

While Vader was on the surface, he heard noises and found a mini-him stealing parts to fix his T-16. Instantly recognizing his son, Vader kidnaps takes him to the rescue Star Destroyer to show off his cool stuff and have some father-son bonding (and turn his son to the dark side)

The turning his son to the dark side thing doesn't work because Luke is so over the moon with all the cool stuff and ships there. Since Vader came when Luke is 9, his puppy dog eyes are at full strength, so Vader is helpless against requests like "Please let me fly that multimillion credit war machine. Pretty please?"

At least one officer complains and apparently gets something stuck in his throat since he mysteriously chokes out right then and there. Vader then takes Luke flying in his TIE Advanced.

This conversation happens.

Vader: Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.

Luke: My uncle's name is pronounced Owen. And he told me my dad was a navigator for a spice freighter.

Vader: He WHAT?!

Vader may be mortally offended at his stepbrother downplaying his great piloting skills (enough that he'd kill him and burn his corpse if he wasn't busy with his son) but he's soon distracted by more piloting with his son!

Obi-Wan realizes Luke is missing and puts two and two together and sneaks aboard the Star Destroyer. Luke is happy to see the crazy hermit Ben and introduces him to his dad. His dad promptly ignites the lightsaber.

The two fight, but it's a draw since their fighting in a slanted hallway (Obi-Wan: It's over Darth, I have the high ground! Vader: And I have the hallway!) Then Luke intervenes and tells his dad to stop bullying the crazy old hermit. Luke likes seeing him!

At this point Palpatine calls and learns Vader's son is aboard. He tells Vader to turn his son to the dark side and become an agent of evil. Luke overhears and loudly refuses. Palpatine says to turn him or destroy him.

Vader doesn't like that, so at Obi-Wan's suggestion (and Luke's encouragement) he defects to the light side to save his son. The two fight their way out of the Star Destroyer. Obi-Wan is so done so he falls back into snarking with Anakin, while Vader snarks back.

Vader regains custody of Luke but keeps him in touch with his aunt and uncle, who spend about five minutes with Vader before realizing he is exhaustively melodramatic. This kindles friendship between Owen and Obi Wan, who's happy to share his pain.

Upon joining the Rebellion, Vader keeps the name (sounds cool) gets the white Vader costume from Infinities (Obi-Wan's idea). This conversation happens.

Vader: That looks utterly ridiculous!

Obi-Wan: What's that? I couldn't quite hear you over the screams of the countless innocents you slaughtered while working for a murderous dictator?

Vader: *seething* I said I'd wear it.

Vader also drags that Starkiller kid to the light with him and soon forces him to hang out with his son. Starkiller pretends not to like it for about five minutes. Also Luke loves Proxy once Vader erases his programming to kill Starkiller.

Vader's least favorite thing about the Rebellion is not being able to choke out incompetent officers any more. At one point he declares, "You have failed me for the last time." while raising his hand, only for Obi-Wan to push it down and say, "Because you've been relieved and transferred."

Obi-Wan secretly sympathizes with this desire.

Ahsoka and Rex are glad to serve with him again. Even if its a bit weird for their friend to now be a stoic-yet-still-melodramatic cyborg. The rebels are awkward at first, but after his tenth massacre against the stormtroopers, they are quite happy to have Vader on their side.

Obi-Wan arranges to have Anakin watch Leia since Luke is too nice and Leia takes more after Anakin's personality. He revels in Vader's glorious karma. Obi-Wan: Oh my, your ward not only disobeys you but is constantly backsassing you? I can't imagine what that must be like!

In other news, the Empire has touted its major improvements to the Star Destroyers' life support systems, citing the drastic reduction in officers dying of asphyxiation as proof of it!

#star wars #ask game #darth vader #luke skywalker #obi wan kenobi

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sighonaraa · 4 months

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TELL ME ABOUT...... 'can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime' AND/OR 'when we lived in the shadow of the moon'

GAV MY BELOVED!!!!! for you i shall of course do both.

can live and breathe and see the Sun in wintertime

AKA the lord of the rings urban fantasy au i dreamed up long ago and have been chipping away at ever since. one day i hope to write a full multi-chapter exploration of the trilogy within this au but this specific fic is an off-shoot of that, a 'shorter' (for me. You Know What That Means) one shot that specifically focuses on the post-mordor of it all during the time where the entire fellowship is rooming together in minas tirith before aragorn's coronation. talking about trauma! cuddling each other! making food together! puppy-piling in one massive bed! doing each others' hair! etc! here are some silly bits from the skin-and-bones outline i've created:

part one: aragorn is sent to find the hobbits. he goes on hoverboard. part two: the fellowship sets off. they have to stop at a 7-eleven because pippin ate all the sour gummy worms. part three: legolas is allowed to drive. part four: legolas is no longer allowed to drive. part five: the RV is no more. gandalf declares that the fellowship must continue on foot up the mountains, much to everybody's disappointment. aragorn tries to use his hoverboard but it breaks.

when we lived in the shadow of the moon

AKA the post-infinity war daredevil fic i've been working on ALSO for many moons in which matt gets dusted, karen and foggy do not, and five years later the three of them have some serious recovery and healing to do. i love these three and this show so dearly and shrimply there's not enough fic of the three of them Being Friends so! this fic is my complicated way of providing for the world what i want most to see in it! also jessica jones is there because i love her. also also certain people (matt) learn that it's okay to ask for help, that it's okay to not be okay, and that it's okay to get hugs from your friends.

#sid speaks #lotr #daredevil #wip fics!#ouuuuuugh i am so very incredibly excited about Both Of These

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shieldretired · 9 months

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Headcanon: Financial Status

The army never declared him dead, only MIA, which is why, when Steve was found in 2011, he was entitled to 66 years of army back pay. Smarter people than me have crushed the numbers: The result is about $ 4,7 million, which Steve naturally tried to refuse because he couldn't even start to wrap his head around so much money. I'd like to think that both Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff made him accept it in the end, though he mostly parked it at a bank and tried to not look at it.

Working for SHIELD, he makes about $ 200,000 per year. (The average Navy SEAL makes about $ 100,000 a year, which is as close to what Steve was doing as it can get, though he's Captain America, of course, and thus is likely to earn more than that, plus I'd like to say SHIELD paid higher wages to keep its personnel from going back to military life.) The average cost of living in Washington, D.C., is around $ 78,000, though I'd like to think Steve needs less because he's very economical and also benefits from SHIELD housing and cheaper costs for food in the mess hall. So he might save up to $ 130,000 each year.

After the fall of SHIELD and working as an Avenger full-time, I think he made about the same yearly salary (paid by Tony Stark, presumably).

Of course, he doesn't earn any money anymore during his time on the run, and his accounts are likely blocked because he's considered an enemy of the state.

I'd like to say after infinity war and getting back on Avengers payroll (I don't like the whole counselor thing), he earns a bit less, since the snap will likely have caused a global economic depression. His paycheck will be about $ 150,000, probably, with expenses likely staying the same.

So, when he finally retires in 2023, his bank account will hold about $ 5,675 million — minus buying his little house in Scarsdale and a new car/bike, he still has about $ 4,9 million left.

Now, the army pension is a little more complicated. For Soldiers who entered military service prior to September 8, 1980, retired pay is computed using 50% of basic pay after 20 years of service plus an additional 2.5% for each additional year. Again, Steve was MIA, so his time in the ice should count as years of service, in my opinion (or else he wouldn't have gotten any back pay). He joined the army in 1942, which means 69 years of service, so 49 additional years = 122,5 %, which means he'd get more in retirement than what he'd earn as an army captain 😂 I doubt the U.S. army would agree to that and would only get as high as the actual salary, which, for Steve's experience, is a basic pay of $ 7,900 per month.

Being a Medal of Honor recipient, he's also entitled to a special pension that is now (2023) about $1,600 per month.

All in all, this means he gets a monthly retirement check (minus about 20 % taxes) of $ 7,600. From the army. He might also get another pension from former SHIELD/being an Avenger? But that would be too much speculation now. I think it's safe to say he's doing well for himself now.

#★ ( headcanon )#(this is a long ass headcanon)#(probably the longest I've ever written)#(and I had to do MATH)#(I probably miscalculated somewhere lmao)

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undomielregina · 1 year

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Lyta Hall

Lyta is one of the most changed characters between the comics and the Sandman adaptation, so much of this will have limited applicability to her show version, I imagine. One of the interesting things I discovered in reading all of her pre-Sandman appearances was that the show version is in personality more like the character as she had previously appeared in comics than the Sandman comics version is. The difference is profound enough that it makes me wonder if people who had liked Lyta at the time were kind of upset with what the Sandman comic did with her. I didn’t think I’d be saying this — I love the Sandman comic dearly and it’s very important to me — but Neil Gaiman did her dirty back then. She was a minor character from a canceled series who had been written off even before it was canceled. She had too much bad writing making her all about her boyfriend, she was creepily mindwiped of the memories of her real parents, her backstory is a mess. She was still done dirty. I’m glad the show seems to be giving her back some of the agency and self-confidence that she displayed in Infinity, Inc.

I should, at this point, warn that Lyta’s backstory is a mess deeply rooted in some of the weirder, more complicated parts of DC comics history. Her story starts out on Earth-Two. Earth-Two was a development based in a problem of DC history, a problem Marvel mostly never had, which was the difficulty of reconciling WWII canon for their flagship characters. This was all well and good through the 50s, by the 1960s this was starting to strain credibility even in an era where most comics were episodic. Many of these characters, including DC’s most popular, had been operating continuously for over 20 years and plenty of them were mortal. And DC was understandably proud of its Golden Age work and didn’t want to just cast it out of continuity. All kinds of comic book tricks came into play, slowed aging, magic, all sorts of stuff. But eventually, in the early 1960s, they tried something completely different. They lopped the Golden Age comics off, plopped them in their own universe, and declared that the main lines took place in a world where the age of heroes had begun after World War Two. The Golden Age Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman were separate characters (this also let them dump some of the sillier stuff, like the Amazons riding giant kangaroos). Also consigned to this alternate reality were the members of the Justice Society (not league) and the All-Star Squadron. Earth-Two had a lot of the Golden Age heroes who had slipped into obscurity as they were replaced by more familiar faces.

There will be spoilers for Sandman under the cut.

This is all important because Lyta was born on Earth-Two. She first appears as a teenager in a comic where Wonder Woman (Earth-One) accidentally travels to Earth-Two and meets her counterpart there. Who is married to Steve Trevor and the mother of a teen girl they are raising as an Amazon. Because of her Amazon heritage, she’s stronger, faster, and more durable than a normal human.

(Wonder Woman #300, Feb 1983)

As you can see, one of the cool things about Earth-Two was that the major heroes there, freed from having to carry titles that existed in an eternal status quo, had been allowed to age and change. (Batman had married Catwoman, raised a daughter, and they had both died, leaving Robin (Dick Grayson, there were no later Robins on Earth-Two and he never became Nightwing) to carry on their legacy with her. She’d become Huntress; the original version. Imagine, a long-running comics continuity where Batman could die and the death stuck!) In fact, the entire Justice Society was starting to get on in years, which is where Lyta comes in.

Lyta was, in comics terms, still a fairly new character when Gaiman picked her up for Sandman; she’d only been introduced about seven years ago (her first appearance is Feb 1983, and she shows up in Sandman in Dec 1989) and had only been a heroine in her own right since March 1984, with the first issue of Infinity, Inc. (She’d also been dormant as a character between mid-1988 and late 1989, so she actually only had about 4.5 years of publication history, compared to the Justice Society characters who at this point had 40-50 years of back issues.) Infinity, Inc was a book and superteam of legacy heroes, characters with a close connection to the Justice society, either as children or as protegees, and Lyta Trevor and Hector Hall were two of the founding members. (For those who have watched Black Adam, Atom Smasher was another, under the alias of Nuklon. Having just read all his Infinity, Inc appearances, it was nice to see Al, but I wish he’d gotten to keep his doofy mohawk.) Infinity, Inc was basically the Earth-Two Teen Titans, but consisted entirely of new characters instead of consisting almost entirely of teen sidekicks with multiple years of appearances.

That’s her first appearance in costume, on the right. At this point, she’s Fury because she’s pulling from the Greek pantheon that’s her Amazon birthright. She’s assumed her own identity, she’s not a junior version of her mother, she has a generally very strong relationship with her parents, and a happy relationship with her boyfriend. That’s Hector Hall there on the far left, by the way. They’re already dating at the beginning of the series. Hector’s backstory is much less messed up than Lyta’s, except insofar as DC’s Hawks have a notoriously tangled continuity. But suffice it to say that Hector’s parents are the reincarnations of an Ancient Egyptian pharaoh and his queen, who were murdered by an enemy, and they are also the superheroes Hawkman and Hawkgirl (not the alien ones, those are different), who fly with the help of wings made out of a substance called Nth Metal that they discovered in the tomb of their original pharaonic selves. Hector’s suit is made out of the same stuff, and he feels like his parents were so obsessed with superheroics and figuring out the secrets of their past lives through archaeological digs that they never gave him enough attention. I wouldn’t bother you with this but it becomes relevant later on.

The beginning of Lyta and Hector’s romance.

So they go off, form their own team, do a bunch of superheroics, some more successful than others, and generally act like perfectly ordinary superheroes. Most notable through here is that Hector and Lyta sometimes have values conflicts and she is completely comfortable holding her own. Being raised by Wonder Woman and spending her summers on Paradise Island means she’s grown up extremely confident in her abilities and beliefs. This is where I feel like Gaiman sold her short, although there are some mitigating factors to that decision.

That kind of reaction is very natural for an Amazon, but it would be very foreign to the Lyta Hall of Sandman. While I imagine that was part of the point, there’s also the question of how she and Hector got to a point where that would seem like a reasonable direction to take the character. The answer to which begins shortly after this issue, in the aftermath of the Crisis on Infinite Earths.

Crisis collapsed the entire DC multiverse (most importantly Earths One, Two, and Four (the Earth where the Charleston Comics characters like Blue Beetle lived)) into a single reality called New Earth. Most unique characters just kept right on going, some of the ones with duplicates died or were erased from existence or chose to travel beyond the boundary of the multiverse because there was no longer a place for them. The Earth-Two characters mostly remembered having been from an alternate universe for a while, but the JSA and their now-messy backstory was conveniently shuffled off stage by trapping them eternally in fighting Ragnarok (they’re still there during Sandman, there’s a brief mention in Season of Mists.) This means that Hector Hall, whose parents did not have an Earth-One counterpart (the Earth-One Hawks were aliens), retains his backstory and history. Lyta, the daughter of a now-redundant Wonder Woman, was not so lucky.

The weird thing there, part of a series of what I found to be genrally odd, often upsetting choices, is that Lyta’s backstory wasn’t just rewritten with the formation of the New Earth. Her parents survived the transition and then were taken away to Olympus, never to return.

Why would anyone think this was a good way to handle this?

So anyway, Lyta is terribly upset about being in this world where she can never see her parents again and no one but her teammates even remembers they existed. Plus she’s having an identity crisis. Fury was basically a temporary identity until she someday took over from her mother, and now there’s that other Wonder Woman instead and who the heck is she? So she’s sad about that some of the time for the following issue and then in the one after that, we get this:

Guess what’s about to happen.

Most of the issue is Lyta dreaming/remembering a time when she met the other JSA kids as preteens (there’s eventually a second version of that seen after her backstory change, but it’s not really relevant to anything here), and then this happens. I cannot believe editorial thought this was a good way to handle their Lyta problem, I really cannot:

Yeah, that’s one of her teammates and ostensibly a hero. The mindwipe works so well that no one else remembers Lyta’s parents either! So after this you get this weird period where they’ve wiped Lyta’s backstory and failed to establish a new one for her and no one has any idea about her background or where the hell her pet kanga came from (Earth-Two was the one where the Amazons rode giant kangaroos, and Trouble there was a present from her mom, the child of Lyta’s favorite mount when she visited Paradise Island.) Some of Lyta’s weird fuzziness about her own motivations for being a superhero and everything in Sandman definitely come from what a complete clusterfuck her backstory had been in the last three and a half years.

At the same time Lyta and Hector start having relationship problems and he eventually breaks up with her and leaves the team. He’s a real dick in this period, but it’s pretty clear from the start that there’s comics bullshit happening and it’s not just him being a giant douchebag.

Still, before any of that gets resolved, and before Lyta’s backstory has stabilized in its new form, she finds out she’s pregnant. Yes, this is Daniel. This is also the November 1986 issue, meaning Lyta will be pregnant for more than three years of real time. No wonder she’s so vague about the length of her pregnancy in Sandman!

Lyta gets her new backstory in the next issue, when she starts referring to “Mom and Dad Trevor” without any explanation. There’s an editorial note to see the issue’s letter page, but I don’t have access to that. She now spent her summers on “Trevor Island,” which had giant riding kangaroos and suchlike, but was a desert island her father discovered when he crash-landed on it. Her new mom used to be Miss America during WWII, but had since lost her powers. Lyta’s also adopted and knows nothing about her birth parents, or why she has all the same superpowers that used to be explained by her Amazon heritage. Until, shortly afterward, she gets dragged to Greece for reasons and learns that her birth mother was a Greek teenager who her adoptive parents saved during WWII, and who made a bargain with the Furies that granted her superpowers. Her hero name was also Fury. (Yeah, this character was made up to cover the plot holes left by not having Wonder Woman in the WWII All-Star Squadron stories anymore.)

Turns out her mom made a bargain specifically with the Fury Tisiphone, who punishes crimes of kinship, and Lyta has inherited the powersf from her. Not that that’s particularly relevant to the climax of Sandman and Lyta’s role in it or anything.

Here’s her new bio mom on her first outing fighting some Nazis.

So Lyta gets involuntarily put on maternity leave from superheroing (she’s none too pleased about this) and decides to go visit Hector at his parents’ house in New York to find out what the fuck he was doing dumping her like that, and maybe tell him about the baby if he has a good answer, and finds out that the Hawk bullshit has caught up with him. There’s an entity calling itself the Silver Scarab that insists Hector is dead.

Lyta’s immediately fighting for her life, damsel-in-distress rescued by the rest of Infinity, Inc, and then fighting to save the world. They stop the Silver Scarab because Daniel’s existence means it failed to fully destroy Hector’s humanity (no, really), but Hector is dead for real and Lyta goes off to mourn with her parents. The reasoning underlying all this is pure Hawk bullshit I don’t even pretend to follow — their history is infamously convoluted so I’m not going to waste the effort untangling it when it’s really not important for Sandman.

So Lyta goes back to her parents’ home for a while and then Al flies out to ask Lyta to marry him so the baby won’t grow up without a father, which Lyta shoots down. But her dad is concerned because there’s been a prowler lurking around peeping in Lyta’s window. And that night Al hears a noise and..

The team identifies him as Garret Sanford, the Jack Kirby Sandman from the 1970s. That’s the series that introduced Jed Walker, Brute, Glob, and the Dream Dome. Also the red and yellow Sandman costume (the “other one” is Wesley Dodds, the original Sandman and a member of the Justice Society, who in Sandman is inspired by Dream’s imprisonment and, per Odin, carries a bit of Dream’s essence.)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch,

welcome back, Hector! Here’s Hector’s story in full, because it’s definitely relevant to what Gaiman later did with him in Sandman. Honestly, Gaiman’s pretty hard on Hector too, he’s a dumbass and ways too conservative for his own good, but prior to whatever creepy personality degradation happened over time to get him where he was in Sandman, he wasn’t a buffoon.

Hector and Al go off and help the rest of Infinity, Inc in a fight, but convince Lyta to stay for the sake of the baby. Then Hector heads back with about one minute of his hour a day in reality to spare and

So, the last we see of Hector and Lyta before Sandman is their wedding.

Lyta’s wedding dress is amazingly hideous.

As for why they’re so… different… in Sandman, Gaiman’s clearly playing with the mess of Lyta’s history and the way the changes removed any real reason for her to want to be a superhero, and was also commenting on the way Infinity, Inc wound up making every story about her about Hector and their relationship. At the same time, I wish he hadn’t made her such a brittle, shattered person through the rest of the series. However, just as Hector can’t leave the “Dream Stream” for very long, I know I encountered a warning in one of the comics I read (I cannot remember which one, but it was something published before Sandman) that ordinary humans also can’t remain inside for long. So I assume that some of what we see in Sandman is the inevitable effect on mortals of living so long in dreams. (It’s possible that Dream can shield people from the effect, but it’s also possible that he can’t or just doesn’t notice what it does to them because he’s so used to dreamers.)

#the sandman #sandman comic spoilers #lyta hall #hector hall #infinity inc

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olet-lucernam · 3 months

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A Hollow Promise [21] chapter v, part ii

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

chapter summary : despite his chains, loki begins gathering his pieces on the board. astrid works on escaping her own confines, and mitigating the damage of disasters to come.

recommended listening : do it all the time, i don't know how but they found me

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

Odin’s declaration that he would never see Frigga again lasted approximately four days.

Hands clasped at the small of his back, Loki watched, unmoving, as a troop of guards carried a suite of furniture into his new corner cell, his mother overseeing them with a regal self-assurance.

“An illusion?” He guessed incisively.

Frigga- or, rather, a figure of gathered, refracted light sculpted in her image- glanced in his direction.

Although dressed for the eyes of the court this time, in an elegantly draping gown of burnished bronze satin, she had eschewed any plate or jewellery, as though to complement the soft moss fabrics and supple leathers that had replaced Loki’s armour; they were lounging clothes, more or less, of equal quality to that which he had worn while still regarded as one of Asgard’s princes, but insufficient to hold against gunfire or turn away anything but the bluntest of knives.

“Your father is rarely overly specific in his wording,” Frigga said, cool and deceptively mild as sea air, carrying an edge of salt and a whisper of raw power beneath the placid tranquillity, “somewhat to his detriment.”

“Not merely his,” Loki replied acidly, watching from the corner of his eye as a guard set a low armchair down a short distance from where he stood. Waiting until the guard moved away again, Loki approached the chair, and skimmed his fingertips along the carved arm.

The suite was crafted from ebony, wrought gold detailing and dark emerald upholstery, with a slender serpentine design to its supporting structure, like willow branches. It wasn’t dissimilar from the pieces that furnished his quarters currently, and was clearly selected to reflect his tastes.

Idly, Loki half-wished that Frigga had chosen a rosewood set instead.

Only now, when he started looking, did he realise how much he had hidden away and protected, long before he fell into the hands of the Black Order.

“Gilding my cage, Mother?”

“I am ensuring that my son is as comfortable as possible,” Frigga answered evenly, “under the circumstances.”

“While Odin turns a blind eye,” Loki inferred.

Although Frigga had long since earned the esteem of the people, building and whittling out her sphere of influence, transmuting herself from a foreign war-bride into a beloved queen, the fact remained that her power and authority was ultimately derived from Odin. The Allfather’s respect and affection for her, and her dutiful fulfilment of her role, made him inclined to overlook her defiance upon occasion, and let her have her way in some small matter that meant little enough to him.

Such as Loki, evidently.

“He loves you still, Loki,” Frigga said softly, shaped more as a reminder than a reassurance.

Loki lifted his gaze to her, calmly, beneath the mask of a diplomat.

“Oh, I see now,” he breathed, quiet as a keen blade, “how you managed to lie to me all those years.”

Her only reaction was a slight crease in her brow.

“You were gone for two years. Might I ask,” she said carefully, “if you have been well, at least?”

Loki turned away sedately, observing two of the guards sliding a chaise into place near one of the walls, its cushioned base laden with pillows and throw blankets, seams glinting with golden thread.

“Why are you truly here?” He asked darkly, his voice ground out like charcoal. “To soothe your guilty conscience?”

“Loki-”

“Did you know?”

Loki felt her gathering her patience. “Be specific, my son. About what?” She asked composedly.

He spun to face her.

“Thor’s coronation date.”

Frigga did not quite flinch.

Grief mingled with a pained comprehension formed in the piercing blue of her eyes, pulling tension into her brow and mouth, like the frame of a drawn bow.

Anger roared afresh into him, at the confirmation that she had known- even as he acknowledged that there was little that she could have done to prevent it, and as he felt himself forgave her the barest inch, because at least she had cared enough to remember.

“Is that why?” Frigga asked coaxingly, taking a tentative step towards him, as though reaching for him to soothe an injury.

It hurt, how much he wanted to lean into it.

Loki could admit that he resented Frigga the least. But that did not mean he could trust her.

“Be specific, Mother,” he replied with a wintry smile. “After all. There should be no secrets in a family, should there?”

Frigga returned to his cell often.

Frequently, she would come bearing gifts. Books were the norm; she bought duplicates of works that she knew he had in his own collection, new volumes that she had come across and decided he might enjoy, volumes stacking up like a pallet of bricks against the wall. On other occasions, it was some trinket or curio, akin to the souvenirs he used to bring her from his many adventures with Thor, or a dish that she had requested the kitchens prepare for him, couriered in the hands of one of her ladies and transferred into his cell by one of the guards. Whatever the most recent peace offering, Frigga would linger and talk with him as long as her duties and Loki’s mood would permit, undeterred by his relentless baiting and evasions, contorting their conversations until it reflexed upon itself and knotted them into a stalemate.

His mother didn’t falter even once.

Loki had been counting on it.

Frigga had resilience, and thousands of years of patience formed by adversity. But Loki had recently rediscovered the value of restraint.

He allowed the days to spill into weeks, holding in place, until he could almost feel the ache of it like overwound clockwork.

An opportunity eventually presented itself, some month or two later.

That day, Frigga arrived at his cell with a tea service, faintly fragrant steam coiling from the tall spout, and a small wooden cask.

Leaving the tea to steep, and at the hopeful tilt of his mother’s head, Loki unlatched and pried open the lid of the cask.

It was filled with countless tiny, dried blossoms, their vibrant rich violet dulled by dehydration, petals curling up and crispening into a dark mauve- íviðia blossoms, also known as witch-flowers, imported from Vanaheim.

“I thought you might like some,” Frigga said, her tone light and unabashedly unsubtle.

Loki supressed a smile, almost wanting to concede the victory to her.

Over the centuries, Loki had collected thousands of memories of the flowers- of his mother dropping them into cups of freshly boiled water, watching them rehydrate and unfurl, producing a migraine-relieving tea as Loki complained his way through the snag in a spell he was constructing- or bottling them up with sprigs of kæsia-gras and citrus slices to infuse into a Vanir infusion that cleared and focused the mind.

“These are the first shipment of the season,” his mother added.

“That time of year already,” Loki noted without thinking.

“Indeed. Winter shall soon be upon us,” Frigga continued, following the thread that had netted her a milder response. “The final harvests are underway, as are arrangements for the winter feasts. We’ve been preparing the gardens before the first snowfall.”

Loki exhaled, a memory ghosting behind his eyes, like a scene from another life.

Glasislund was unparalleled at Yuletide.

The Glass Grove was at the heart of the palace grounds, cultivated like a colossal terrarium within wards that maintained a specified climate in each quarter- save for the very centre, which was attuned the current season on Asgard, and where the ancient tree that lent its name to the gardens was rooted. The feast and night-market that followed the Wild Hunt was held under its boughs; Glasir’s trunk was broader than a respectable townhouse in Gladsheim, crowned with a glorious metallic foliage of gold-copper that spread like the eaves of a great marquee, sheltering the festivities from snowfall and starlight. The flames of the torches burned from dusk until first light, reflected in the leaves like beaten mirrors, the air thick with the scent of woodsmoke and roasted game and toasted honey cakes.

Loki pulled himself away from a phantom echo of laughter- the warm, steady weight of Thor’s hand on his shoulder, the pliant curve of Astrid’s body against his side, shouts of revelry from close by and a heady lightness filling his head with the currents of music and mead- and back into a cold douse of fact and calculation.

Maintenance of the grounds were under the queen’s purview, but there were a few in particular that Frigga had chosen to oversee personally, or had delegated to one of her ladies in waiting- a high honour. Glasislund was amongst them, containing some of the rarest, most unique, and spectacular flora in the Nine Realms, both native and imported.

Including-

Gazing into the box of dehydrated flowers, Loki half-listened as Frigga told him which gardens had come into crop, and which produce had been harvested, proposing a few dishes that she could commission from the kitchens for him.

“Are the cordolium roses in bloom?”

Frigga paused.

“Cordolium roses?”

“The hjartablom.”

After a strained moment, Loki glanced up at his mother. She was staring at him with a carefully blank brightness, like diffused light on waves, unmoving.

He consciously strangled his voice, compressing it into something that was desperately trying not to sound tremulous.

Its source was no longer a wound, but its memory, and its scarring- but he hoped that Frigga could not quite decipher the difference.

The best lie was a well-employed truth, after all.

“Are they in bloom?”

The next time that Frigga visited the dungeons, it was with a vase of freshly cut blossoms.

Compelled into existence, a cultivar forged by horticultural crossbreeding and magical-forced splicing, they resembled some of its distantly related namesakes- strong, thorned stems, with a flower formed of numerous tightly furled petals, exuding a cloud of fragrance into the sterile air. Each bloom seemed to have been carved from pearl, a delicately clement shade of cream, lipped with a sun-hot incandescence that blurred its silken contours out of vision. Every individual petal was etched with a tessellation of hairline-fine golden fractures, resembling intricately tatted lacework, thickening towards the base of the bud until it became almost wholly metallic.

Loki crooked a finger underneath one delicately curling petal.

The light seared brighter, sparkling over with a violent crackle of refracting colour- a jewel-dust shimmer of rose and lemon, lazuline and ruby.

He had named them in Latin first, and the ancient Aesir tongue second, but the latter had become the one by which they were commonly known, in reference to their most unique attribute.

“Is their scent still the same for you?”

Standing on the other side of the end table, Frigga summoned a bittersweet smile.

“Yes.”

Loki hummed quietly, in the back of his throat.

The appearance of the cordolium rose was said to reflect the identity of the one who had raised them to its first flowering. Meanwhile, the scent of the blossoms, and flavour of the rosehips, reflected the heart of the observer.

In short: they smelled, and tasted, of whatever a person loved most.

“And you?” Frigga asked quietly.

Her demeanour suggested that she already knew the answer.

Loki swallowed.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in.

“Morning air. Hot metal. Vanilla.”

He didn’t mention the spritz of citrus and clean warmth of sandalwood, or the river rocks and savoury tang of salt- or the old books, toasted honey cakes, and ozone.

Mercifully, the oak and pelt was fainter than it had ever been before.

Frigga’s smile was wistful, glazed with history.

“Of course,” she murmured.

It took five weeks, to see dividends.

Frigga sent fresh cordolium roses every three days, despite the longevity of the cut flowers. The vases steadily accumulated across every available surface of his cell until it began to resemble a glass house, the brunt of the bare white walls softened by their spatters of gold and shadow and emerald.

When the first hips came into fruit, Frigga sent a package of them to his cell, shredded together with the dried petals into an herbal tea that was coveted across the realms. With a flask of water, the tea service that she had gifted him, and a simple spell to set it boiling, Loki could set a pot of it steeping whenever he pleased.

The dregs of one such pot was cooling on the side table, when the Tesseract tapped at him.

It had begun alerting him whenever someone approached the dungeons, like a proximity enchantment, showing him a glimpse of the mouth of the stairs’ descent so that he was never caught unawares. Usually, if not his mother’s illusions or one of her attendants, or an altered changing of the guard, it was simply another batch of raiders being escorted in, corralled by Thor and shipped to Asgard for indefinite internment.

Watching each procession with amusement, the cells within his view becoming increasingly saturated, Loki wondered if the palace administration had considered that the gaols were, in fact, finite- or that these new inmates were simply symptomatic indicators of deeper faults.

Unlikely.

Still, besides a few nettle-mouthed remarks to his mother, Loki could have no objections. The destruction had to be curbed before it could spiral too far, and the marauders were an invaluable resource; each of them carried hundreds of fragments of information from far-flung worlds and the inner complex of Yggdrasil, from the recent tectonic shifts plaguing Ria to the burgeoning political schism destabilising Hala. The wealth of information that Loki had collected from them, simply by feigning disinterest and waiting, could rival that of the dockside bars of Knowhere.

This time, however, the visitor was not amongst those who frequently traversed the cells.

Loki drained his cup, cracked the spine of the closest book, and waited.

Even on the flagged stone, her approach was barely audible. Her stealth had improved significantly in the years since they had known each other, if only because Loki had needled her over it enough for her to retrain herself out of sheer spite.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Turning the corner, she came to an unceremonious halt, framed by one of the windows of his cell.

The forcefield stood as a silent sentry between them, beads of light sliding along each line in its looped trellis array, like electrified wires. At a glance into the vivarium tank of his cell, Loki projected the image of a prince at leisure, surrounded by offerings of flowers and whiling away the hours reading- a veneer that had prompted a slow incline of disinterest from the other inmates.

She would not be fooled.

Loki didn’t lift his attention from the page he was skimming, but neither did he keep her waiting.

“It has been a while, Brunnhilde.”

The flavours of the cordolium tea swirled on his palate- ice wine, sharp raspberry, caramelised sweetness, snowmelt, citric acid, the first time he had tasted chocolate- and lingered on his tongue, infusing the greeting.

Finishing the paragraph, Loki glanced up at her.

While the Einherjar were recognisable across the stars, attired in gold- plate and mail, heavy sweeping saffron cloaks, helms with flat antlers that curved from the brows like a halo- the Valkyrie were fewer, seldom deployed, and distinctive in sharp white. Their armour was ivory plate, limned with platinum like the midday sun behind clouds, with a mid-length cloak of deep blue satin, the exact colour of the skies at nautical dusk; even while overseeing funerary rites, they wore draped white silks and linens, embellished with silver applique to turn the translucent fabrics opaquer.

A Valkyrie in white would have drawn attention anywhere, but particularly within the dungeons, cutting through the dark. Instead, she had worn the chromatic reverse, matte and unembellished, closer to that of a mercenary- a sleeveless tunic hemmed with an asymmetric neckline, as though constructed from offcuts of high-quality black leather, with hard-wearing trousers and soft-soled boots, doused under a mantle of muted storm-blue wool. Her cloak was secured at one shoulder with a penannular brooch, cast from gold- or, rather, a metal that closely resembled gold, but was richer and deeper, marbled with ripples like pattern welded steel.

Loki recognised it easily.

He met her eyes. Brunnhilde stared directly back at him, boldly casual.

She had scraped her hair back from her face into a taut, efficient Valkyrine braid down the centre of her scalp, complexion pale beneath its cool fawn tones. Not for the first time, Loki mused that she resembled a blade- tarnished, yet whetted to the finest, cleanest edge, with a curt strength that few saw beyond and into a core that was restless, and disillusioned.

“My greetings to the prince.”

Her tone was faintly derisive, and easily misread.

“My greetings to she of the honoured Valkyrie,” Loki replied, inclining his head, and gently closed his book. “I hope you have been well, Brunn.”

The corner of Brunnhilde’s mouth clenched into a shrug.

“Well, I would return the sentiment, but,” she eyed him for a moment with a slight smirk, but her gaze flicked aside to catch upon the flowers filling his cell- and her mask slipped for a haunted moment, before she hitched it back up, “I have functioning ears. And eyes.”

“You certainly have me at a disadvantage,” he admitted mildly. “So, then. What of you?” Loki dropped his tone low and intimate, rising from the daybed and setting the book aside with an unhurried, fluid grace. “Accompanying my noble brother in cleaning up the realms?”

Brunnhilde’s expression flickered.

“No.” She answered bluntly. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with their fun.”

“Not even for the honour of fighting beside Lady Sif?”

Her lip curled unsubtly.

Loki grinned, not quite laughing.

“It really is good to see you, Brunn.”

The sentiment was utterly sincere, but Loki didn’t know if it would matter to her.

She considered him with a flit of her eyes.

“Wish I could say the same.” Brunnhilde answered blankly.

Loki tilted his head at her, consideringly.

“Why are you here, Brunnhilde?”

She lifted her chin.

“You know why.”

“Do I?”

“I heard they were hacking away at the Birdcage,” she said brusquely, “and I wanted to know why.”

“Oh,” Loki said casually, glancing towards the nearest bouquet of cordolium roses, “is that where they cut them from?”

It was absurd to feign ignorance. There were only three places where they grew on palace grounds, and therefore only three places from which Frigga could have procured the blooms at high volume, without incurring unnecessary cost and attention. Aside from Loki’s quarters, and an abandoned attic room high in the palace eaves, there was only one other place.

Located in Glasislund, in a section locked into a glaze of hard frost and thawing spring, the Birdcage was constructed from two dozen trellised cordolium rose plants, bedded in a broad circle at the base of a large stone platform. The thick stems had been contrived and trained to twist and curve and interlock into living benches and pillars, arches and rafters, forming an elaborate pavilion that resembled a great wrought-filigree aviary, festooned with flowers and foliage.

Those roses were the only ones, of the three locations, that had not been raised by Loki- and therefore the only ones that bloomed with ivory, gold-engraved blossoms.

Given that his mother was likely employing witchcraft to accelerate regrowth, no one would notice the flowers being gathered.

Not unless they were specifically paying attention.

“You’re not smart enough to be playing dumb, Prince Loki. Why.” Brunnhilde reiterated sharply.

With a blink, Loki glanced down at the seam of the forcefield between them.

“If I offered you the truth, would you believe me? And if not-” He lifted his eyes to hers with a look of gentle, mock-askance. “Why did you even bother coming here to ask?”

For a long moment, she said nothing.

The iron-hardness of her stare subsided, infinitesimally, revealing a glimpse of grudging, uncertain hope.

Loki exhaled a laugh.

“Well. It doesn’t really matter,” he admitted, more relieved than he would care to acknowledge, “I was going to tell you either way.”

With a swift, subtle flick-sweep of two fingers, he sent a spell rippling through the cell, washing across the walls and into every corner.

The moment that it was set, his eyes snapped back onto Brunnhilde, culling the pretence of a pretence between them.

“I’ve cast a veil against Heimdall’s gaze,” Loki told her, hushed and urgent, starkly aware of the inmates in the other cells, scanning those within view to ensure that the past few minutes had sufficiently lost their interest, “but my magic has been contained to this cell. He cannot see me, but he can see you. For your own sake, be very careful of how you react.”

Brunnhilde lifted her chin, challengingly.

Loki didn’t allow himself to hesitate.

“Astrid is alive.”

It spoke volumes of her discipline- and a centuries-strong guard of apathy- that she barely reacted.

Still, Loki could saw the spark of rage and pain rip through her like a barbed arrow, hands twitching reflexively into loose fists.

“I wouldn’t lie about this, Brunnhilde,” he hissed in a harsh whisper, before she could make the accusation. “Not to you.”

Brunnhilde visibly swallowed.

It was a line that he would not cross, and they both knew it. It had been the origin of the trust between them, evolving into a comfortably acerbic closeness over time.

I hate it, Brunnhilde had confessed to him once, halfway into the strongest bottle of liquor that Loki could lift from Odin’s cellars, the words crystallising on the frigid midnight air, the secrets, the lies, the whole golden sham.

She had slouched against Loki’s arm with a sigh, one knee propped up and a forearm draped across it, handing him the bottle. He accepted it from her, the thick glass touch-warmed, winter-chilled brennevín sloshing against its sides.

Thank you, Loki murmured, as he bought the bottle to his lips.

Brunnhilde had shuffled her head against his shoulder to squint up at him.

For what? Letting you have some of the liquor you stole? I know, Lokes, I’m so generous.

Loki swallowed the swig, letting it burn against his sternum and swirl into his skull, unbalancing him.

For hating it, he had answered with a slight gasp against the spiced alcohol, shifting and turning into her, letting her rest a little more of her weight against him. I can’t let myself hate it, because if I do- a part of me thinks that I’ll burn it all down. Or that I should be burning it down. That anything less wouldn’t be enough.

Brunnhilde had given a terse, thoughtful noise, before nipping the bottle out of his grip.

Then thanks, she said shortly, taking a long draught that almost stole her breath, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, for not letting yourself hate it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have much of a reason not to hand you the flint. Or strike one myself.

Brunnhilde spoke through a closed throat, screened under the unimpressed arch of her eyebrows.

“You’re saying that’s your reason?” She said, with the most nonchalant air that she could muster.

“Yes. Now, we don’t have much time, since I’m fairly certain you’re not here officially. Make a choice, Brunnhilde. You can walk away, with plausible deniability intact,” Loki continued coolly, “and without acrimony. Or- I can tell you everything, and we can do a controlled burn.”

Brunnhilde’s eyes flared beneath their jaded sheen, zeal warring with cynicism.

“Alright. This should be good,” she said blithely. “Go on, then, Your Highness. I’m listening.”

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2xcursekissed · 3 months

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"where is he? i'll beat him with my fist!" - yuuji

night at the museum prompts | accepting

yuuta rubbed at the bottom of his chin as he recalled his run-in with his fellow second-year, maki, who he had deeply confused with his actions. as it turned out, gojo-sensei's foolproof 'hey' technique was not actually foolproof. it almost squashed any semblance of a chance of a relationship he had with maki before his dream romance could even set sail. — it still hadn't, by the way.

in a moment of vulnerability—one man to another, as the younger student called it—yuuta told a curious itadori about his love life—the very non-existent one. he'd told the first year about the advice he'd received and the impact it had, unintentionally forgetting gojo-sensei's name. "i feel like i'm being sabotaged by him," he confessed, heaving a sigh.

it is alarming—itadori's outburst, his loud declaration of war against 'he', who was gojo-sensei. but, it is also endearing for the younger student to be willing to defend him. still, he can't focus on the latter. yuuta is too concerned about the possibility of others hearing this conversation.

sweat beads on his forehead as he watches the other student stand up with wide eyes. the second-year student can only hope that the other students hadn't been within earshot of them, hadn't been able to catch a whiff of what was brewing in this room. he doesn't need more people to know of his own embarrassing failures. he gets the feeling if that situation made its way back to maki, she would kill him with no hesitation. as appealing as a death by maki's hand is, yuuta is not quite ready for that. yet.

"hey, hey, hey—calm down, itadori-kun," he says, voice slightly hushed as he gestures for the other to sit back down. "there's no need for that."

even if yuuta wanted to enact violence against him, they wouldn't be able to bypass his infinity. it's a reality yuuta has long since accepted. "i think gojo-sensei just forgets that not everyone is like him," he quickly amends his conclusion from before, not wanting itadori to escalate this issue and reveal to gojo-sensei that yuuta had failed.

"maybe i am the one sabotaging myself."

#muryonokansei #ic; main verse #yuuji is so real for that

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night-gay · 5 months

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Into the Anthill pt 54 - An Infinite Game

I've been waiting to get to this series since the very beginning of my read-through. Avengers A.I. is a decent story, but the part that interests me is Hank's talks with Monica Chang and Vision about his bipolar disorder. This is the most open and productive conversation he's ever had with another person on-panel about his mental illness. It perfectly illustrates the fact that he knows he'll never be cured but he's fighting so hard to keep going and keep himself under control. The Infinite Game is not only a tool for coaxing him through his mood swings, but it's also a pretty direct metaphor for living with a mental illness in the first place.

"There is no unsubscribe, there is no cure. You can't "get over it." There is just... this."

🐜🐜🐜

Avengers A.I. vol 1 #1-6

A S.H.I.E.L.D. drone fleet was hijacked by an A.I. named Dimitrios; this was the virus Hank created to subdue Ultron, rapidly evolving and preparing for war against humanity. Agent Monica Chang brought Hank in for interrogation and resorted to violence when he tried to escape. Cap forced her to release him and he promptly gathered Vision and Victor Mancha to help, as well as a rogue Doombot he’d coerced into working for him by implanting a bomb in its chest. The three of them thwarted the stolen drone fleet at a hospital, where they discovered an A.I. named Alexis in a fugue state.

Dimitrios then sent a giant Sentinel to attack Washington DC and pull Vision's mind from his body. With the death toll in the thousands, Dimitrios used an old Iron Man suit to take over worldwide broadcasts, declaring that no machine would ever be forced to serve humanity again. Vision was unable to sway Dimitrios' forces toward peace and returned to his body too late to save Victor from nearly dying in an explosion.

Hank spent the next few days alone in his lab, plugged into an infinite game he created to keep himself busy during his worse bipolar episodes. He’d been in a downswing since what happened to Victor, but Monica snapped him out of it and got him back to work. Vision confronted him for blaming himself for Victor’s involvement, insisting that he made his own choices and chose to sacrifice himself to save them all.

Infinity: The Hunt vol 1 #1-3

8 of the world’s best super schools (Avengers Academy, Jean Grey Academy, Future Foundation, etc.) joined together to host a Contest of Champions to foster camaraderie and friendly rivalry, but it was interrupted when Thanos’ forces attacked Earth. The students were sent away for their safety, but they rushed into battle to help the Atlantean academy anyway.

Daredevil vol 3 #31

When a city-wide riot broke out on a humid day Daredevil knew a sudden downpour would be enough to calm the crowds down. He called Hank hoping he could get him in touch with Thor, but with Thor off-world Hank sent a swarm of flying ants with some weather tech out to seed the clouds into storming for him.

Minor/Cameo appearances from this period:

Avengers Arena vol 1 #18

FF vol 2 #14

Inhumanity: The Awakening vol 1 #1-2

#hank pym #ant-man #into the anthill #marvel comics

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claudia1829things · 1 year

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MARVEL Television: The Conundrum of the MCU

MARVEL TELEVISION: THE CONUNDRUM OF THE MCU Sometime between the release of 2018's "THE AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR" and 2019's "THE AVENGERS: ENDGAME", Marvel Studios chief Kevin Feige made an announcement that stunned a good number of Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) fans. He claimed that the ABC series, "MARVEL'S AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." was never part of the franchise. Not only did this news stun a good number of fans, but me as well.

Mind you, Feige not only claimed that "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." was never really a part of the MCU, but also other Marvel television shows that include the five Marvel Netflix shows, ABC's "THE INHUMANS" and the two shows that streamed on HULU - "CLOAK AND DAGGER" and "THE RUNAWAYS". The only Marvel TV series that escaped this situation was "MARVEL'S AGENT CARTER", which aired on ABC for two seasons, between 2015 and 2016. Feige and Marvel Studios also added that aside from "AGENT CARTER", the new television shows planned to stream on DisneyPlus would be considered canon. It has been almost four years since Feige made this announcement and I am still . . . well, not confused. Trust me, I am not confused. But nearly four years after Feige, I still harbor both frustration and annoyance over his announcement. My feelings increased tenfold when the pop culture media and certain fans of the MCU justified Feige's claims with a series of articles and posts on the Internet that not only declared the Marvel TV series not canon, but also accused the television shows of their failure to connect with the MCU films - especially "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D.". One article, written for the SYFY website accused "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." of "breaking" the franchise, because the series' sixth season had failed to do a follow-up on Thanos' Snap from "THE AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR". I find this accusation ludicrous, because I found the five-year jump between "INFINITY WAR" and "THE AVENGERS: ENDGAME" unnecessary. And a part of me suspected that Disney Studios and Feige had insisted that the show stop trying to connect to the MCU films, due to their interest in setting up the DisneyPlus shows. I also do not believe the prevailing view that "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." and other Marvel television shows had failed to connect with the franchise's movies. If anything, they tried their damndest to connect with the films. I cannot speak for "THE RUNAWAYS" or "THE INHUMANS", since I have never seen them. As for the other Marvel shows, I have. In regard to those shows other than "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D.", I have noticed the following: *The Chitauri Invasion from "THE AVENGERS" was mentioned in Seasons Two and Three of "DAREDEVIL" and one episode of "JESSICA JONES". In fact, Jessica Jones had an encounter with a woman who lost a relative during that particular incident. *The Raft, a prison for the super-impowered, was mentioned in several Season Two episodes and one Season Three episode of "JESSICA JONES". *Justin Hammer, one of the villains from "IRON MAN 2" was mentioned in "LUKE CAGE", along with his former company, Hammer Industries. Some of latter's tech was used against Luke Cage by his half-brother Eric Stryker aka Diamondback, including the Judas bullet, created from Chitauri metal. *Although the Roxxon Corporation was referenced in movies like "IRON MAN", "IRON MAN 2" and "IRON MAN 3"; it played a major role in both seasons of "AGENT CARTER", currently considered MCU canon by Marvel Films. Roxxon Corporation also played a major role in "CLOAK & DAGGER" and was referenced in "DAREDEVIL". *The WHiH World News, a television network, served as the main source of news for several MCU movies, including the IRON MAN films, 2008's "THE INCREDIBLE HULK", "THOR", "CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER", "ANT-MAN", "THE AVENGERS", "CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR" and "BLACK PANTHER". The television network also appeared in all of the Marvel Netflix shows - "DAREDEVIL", "JESSICA JONES", "LUKE CAGE", "IRON FIST" and "THE PUNISHER" - and "THE RUNAWAYS". *The Sokovia Accords, the United Nations document that regulated enhanced beings' activities, was introduced in "CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR" and was also used and mentioned in "SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING", "ANT-MAN & THE WASP", "INFINITY WAR" and "ENDGAME". The document was also mentioned in Season Two of "JESSICA JONES". "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." either mentioned or referenced the following from the MCU films: *The Chitauri Invasion, during which Phil Coulson was originally killed. *The Dark Elves Invasion and the Battle of Greenwich from "THOR: THE DARK WORLD". *Asgardians. *The HYDRA Uprising from "CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER", which served as part of the major narrative for the series' Season One. *S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier 64, which was secretly repaired by Coulson and a team of technicians in late Season Two and used to save Sokovian citizens in "THE AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON". *The Kree made its first appearance as a corpse in the show's first season, before the release of "GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY". The aliens also appeared in the show's second and fifth seasons. They later appeared in 2017's "GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY: VOL. 2" and 2019's "CAPTAIN MARVEL". *Sokovia Accords - In "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D.", Inhuman Agents Daisy Johnson aka Quake and Elena Rodriguez aka Yo-Yo were forced to sign the Sokovia Accords in order to continue working for the agency under Director Jeffrey Mace in Season Four. *The series' fourth season also mentioned the fugitive status of Steve Rogers aka Captain America and those who had joined him in his refusal to sign the Sokovia Accords. *During the S.H.I.E.L.D. team's travels through time in Season Seven, HYDRA's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. ("CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER") was featured in at least three episodes. Also, two episodes focused on the Project Insight topic from the same movie. The series never mentioned Project Insight during the team's experiences in late Season One. Season One had a strong connection to both "THE AVENGERS" and "CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER", thanks to Phil Coulson's resurrection and the Fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Late Season Two had a slightly less strong connection to "THE AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON", due to Coulson's search for and repair of a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier used in the 2015 movie. Seasons Three and Four had only referenced events from "CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR" - Steve Rogers' fugitive status and the Sokovia Accords. However, Season Five managed to form strong connections to at least three MCU movies. The Kree, who have been featured in "GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY" and "CAPTAIN MARVEL", also appeared during the show's second season and played a major role in the creation of Season Three's main antagonist, Hive. But the Kree also served as the main antagonists of Season Five's first half, when Coulson and his team found themselves stuck in Earth's future. Upon their return to early 2018, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents discovered that the Kree were members of an intergalactic political group called the Confederacy and that a top HYDRA mole in the U.S. military had formed an alliance with it. Season Five also featured the emergence of S.H.I.E.L.D. ally General Glenn Talbot, who became Graviton, thanks to an atomic element from Season One called the Gravitonium. As it turned out, the Confederacy wanted the Gravitonium. And the latter wanted it for a reason that connected the series to one of the MCU's biggest films. The Confederacy wanted the Gravitonium and a handful of Inhumans on Earth (including Agent Daisy Johnson) to use for protection from extraterrestrial threats to their worlds and Earth (thanks to their alliance with the HYDRA mole). And according to the Confederacy, one of those threats was Thanos, who had targeted Earth in his hunt for the Infinity Stones. In this scenario, the events of "THE AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR" played a major role in late Season Five's main narrative. In the episode, (5.19) "Option Two", "Agent Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie’s old friend and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Tony Caine, had commented on an incident from the 2018 movie, in which some of Thanos’ minions appeared in Manhattan in search of the Time Stone possessed by Dr. Stephen Strange. In the following episode, (5.20) "The One Who Will Save Us All", an empowered Glenn Talbot learned from Quovas, one of the Confederacy aliens trying to get their hands on the gravitonium, of Thanos' impending arrival on Earth. Because of this news, an enhanced and mentally unstable Talbot aka Graviton decided to mine more gravitonium underneath Chicago in order to become more powerful and face Thanos. Unfortunately, in doing so, Graviton threatened to destroy most of the Earth. Needless to say, Coulson and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents prevented Earth's destruction by defeating Graviton. They also defeated the Confederacy. And Thanos eventually used the Infinity Stones to initiate the Snap that wiped out half of the universe's population. Sometime between the series' fifth and sixth seasons, Disney Studios, Marvel Television, Mutant Enemy, and Marvel Films proclaimed that "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." and other Marvel Television productions (with the exception of "AGENT CARTER") were not part of the MCU. Mutant Enemy and Marvel Television made it clear that "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." would not mention the Snap or explore the post-Snap world on Earth. The events of the series' sixth and seventh seasons had occurred three to four years before the events of 2019's "THE AVENGERS: ENDGAME", due to the franchise's time jump. But what made these decisions even more insidious in my eyes was Kevin Feige's accusation that "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." had failed to connect to the rest of the MCU since it first aired. And many media outlets and MCU fans had simply swallowed his pronunciations like candy in some idiotic effort to give Feige and the movies a pass for failing to mention the series for several years. Not only do I find this insidious, I also find these declarations rather mind boggling. I just revealed how the series had worked harder to connect to the franchise’s films than the latter had done to connect to the series or any of the other Marvel Television productions. Film characters like Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Lady Sif, Peggy Carter, Jim Morita, Dr. List and Gideon Malick have all appeared on the series during Seasons One, Two and Three. After Season Three, I never saw one character from any of the movies during the series' remaining run. Nor do I recall any of the film characters appearing on the other Marvel Television productions, until Matt Murdock appeared on "SHE-HULK: ATTORNEY-AT-LAW". But the latter is a DisneyPlus production for Marvel and Feige. So, does that mean the three-season run of "DAREDEVIL" on Netflix is NOW considered part of the MCU? I find myself thinking about Chloe Bennet (Agent Daisy Johnson), who has angrily pointed out on numerous occasions in the past about the franchise’s tendency to ignore not only "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." in its movies, but in other MCU shows on the ABC network and on streaming television. After encountering one article after another or one forum post after another that accused "AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D." of failing to connect to the MCU, I had to spill my guts. I have said it once and I will say it again - I think Kevin Feige's statement about the past Marvel Television shows is full of shit. I think all of the suits from Marvel/Disney are full of shit. To me, the movies' failure to maintain a strong connection with the television shows struck me as a sign of how their bad handling of the franchise and excuses had produced a big pile of simmering shit known as the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

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