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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

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the great trial part two

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: thank you to @medeliadracon for beta reading this and @ladyxffandoms for looking it over <3

word count: 3k

Kuvira already hates this. She hates how the both of you are seated on the couch yet are on opposite ends while some middle-aged woman with a notepad on her lap is seated across from the both of you. She hates the question at hand, despite it being the first one. “How did it start?”

The only problem is she has to go along with this because she just heard you say her name for the first time in weeks when introducing the both of you to Dr. Hanika. Because you spoke to her directly just a few days ago when telling her about this visit after your mother left. So she has to suck it up, for you.

It. This wasn’t an It, this is a relationship. It was delicate and warm and the fact that this stranger expects both of you to just pour yourself into this, sharing every little thing, pisses her off.

“Oh…” Your eyes flit across the contents on the coffee table as you try to make sense of your memories.

“This relationship started almost four years ago” Kuvira replies. “We met at Suyin’s dance studio, she asked me for help.” Dr. Hanika clicks her pen and begins to write something across her notepad. Kuvira leans over a little to try and peek, but she’s too far away to see what’s being written.

Your shoulders slump, wetting your lips. You don’t want to talk about this, you want to talk about how to get over the cheating. “When are we going to talk about… everything else?”

“Y/n what can you tell me about the start of your relationship with Kuvira?”

Kuvira looks away, frowning. She knows what you're referring to. Dr. Hanika sets her pen down and sighs “We will get to the root of your problems soon, but I think the best way I can help the both of you is if I know how it started.”

And so you tell her, despite not wanting to, about meeting Kuvira and practicing after class with her for weeks before she finally kissed you. You keep out how she kissed you in other places, deciding to keep that between the two of you. And then you tell her about the recital, about wanting to introduce her to your parents but didn’t because Baatar was there with his arm wrapped around her.

Hearing your point of view on things leaves a sour taste in Kuvira’s mouth. She didn’t know you wanted her to meet your parents that night. After she watched you race out of the room she had quietly scolded Baatar for not waiting like they originally planned.

“And you never told her about the relationship you had with Baatar?” You scoff at his name, turning your gaze out the window, not wanting to see her reaction to the question.

“No… I didn’t want to hurt he-”

“That’s rich coming from you,” you spit out, Kuvira turns to face you, her brows pinching together as she tries to keep her temper in check. “It’s the truth!”

“If you didn’t want to hurt me you would have ended it with him!” You twist around, finally meeting her eyes for the first time in what feels like forever. Whatever words were on the tip of Kuvira’s tongue died the minute you do. “But you didn’t, instead you made me keep us a secret for three years!”

“Alright, let’s calm down” Dr. Hanika looks between the both of you. But you ignore her, tired of keeping your mouth shut to keep her happy.

“You cheated on me as some sick form of punishment over the smallest of things, fuck, I’m pretty sure you liked crawling into his bed those nights with how many times you chose to do it!” You grip the couch so tight your knuckles begin to turn white.

The look in your eyes is like nothing she’s seen before and her heart begins to pound. She doesn’t know this version of you and it scares her. “How about you do us both a favor and go crawling back to him instead of staying here!”

Tick, the clock mounted on the wall is all that’s heard as silence descends upon the room.

Scratch, Dr. Hanika begins to write on her notepad, and the sound of pen meeting paper mixes with the ticking.

Chirp, a bird in the tree by your living room window is giving its babies lunch and the excited chirping from the babies blends with the other two sounds.

The fourth sound to join the makeshift symphony is the whimper that leaves Kuvira’s lips before she storms away to your bedroom where she slams the door so hard the bookshelf next to it shakes, a book falls off.

“Maybe we should start with individual sessions and then work our way up into group sessions,” she says calmly. You nod, thickly swallowing as you slowly let go of the back of the couch, your knuckles cramp a bit from how hard you held the cushion.

And so you tell her the rest, all of it including every lonely night and every fight. She aggressively writes away on her notepad as you stare at the vase of light pink flowers. At some point, you grab a pillow from beside you and clutch it close to your chest as you get to the engagement. Tears are freely falling from your eyes now and you don’t move to wipe them away.

“I think this will take a long time and there’s no guarantee on what will come of this, but we can only hope it’s something positive. For now, I think both of you should try to find interests separate from one another since it seems like there are some codependency issues we’ll need to work on.”

You nod, trying to think up what you can do in this small apartment as you wipe the last of your tears away. “Okay, I can do that.”

“What you're feeling right now is valid, Y/n, and I want you to know it’s good that you are seeking therapy to help resolve these issues,” she sets her pen down on the pad and sighs. “I think I’d like to speak to Kuvira alone, then I’ll take my leave for the day.”

Biting your lip you set the pillow down beside you and look at the bedroom door. “I’ll go get her, maybe you should stay in the bedroom once she comes out.” Dr. Hanika stands up and gently knocks on the door. Kuvira, who feels like a knife has been driven through her heart, is sitting on the edge of your bed with her head in her hands.

She hates herself and hates this. All of the arrogance she carried just a few weeks ago has vanished as she’s left with this warped version of you. Kuvira knows she deserves this but fuck does it hurt to hear.

The knock has her head tilting up, hoping it’s you and that this tense tightrope you're making her walk has finally come to an end. But it’s Dr. Hanika saying something Kuvira only half hears. It feels like her head is underwater, like her words are distorted.

You hear her talking to Kuvira through the door, but she’s being too quiet to understand what's transpiring. Slowly the lock clicks and the door opens up, revealing a red-eyed Kuvira who won’t look at you.

She walks over to the other side of the room so you can lock yourself in the bedroom, suddenly she wishes she had put up a fight about doing this. Kuvira wishes she could take it back, so she never had to hear you talk like that.

When she sits down on the couch she doesn’t know what to do, so she ends up sitting with her elbows propped up on her knees with her chin resting in the palm of her hands as she tries to keep calm. Her whole body feels like it’s buzzing and her world feels off-center. Maybe she should deal with your silence, seeming to prefer it over your malicious words.

“Kuvira?” The young woman snaps out of her thoughts and looks up at Dr. Hanika with a quirked brow. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for a few minutes now.”

“Oh.”

“How did Y/n’s words make you feel?”

“Awful,” Kuvira doesn't want to talk to her but what's the alternative? “Like she doesn't love me anymore.” Like no one loves me, not even her.

“Do you think she would go through with this if she didn’t love you?” Dr. Hanika tilts her head in question, her hands delicately placed over each other as they rest on her pen and notepad. “Do you think she would put in all this effort if she didn’t want to be with you?”

Kuvira frowns, she never looked at it like that. “Don’t you think she would have requested to be sent to her parents?”

“I guess so…” Kuvira trails off as she leans back and looks down at her hands. Why would someone still live with someone they didn’t love? It was obvious you no longer tiptoed around her feelings so it can’t be just to appease her. “But if she still loves me, how do I fix this?”

“This is something you both will need to work on, not just you. It will take a lot of time, and we will have to talk about your feelings but also your past to help you, do you think you can do that for me?”

It took her months to give you a nugget of her childhood and even longer to finally talk about her feelings with you, it’s something she still isn’t good at. Both are something she has difficulty with, but for you? Well, she’d traverse the whole world for you, give it all to you if asked.

“Okay,” Kuvira breathes, “Okay I can do that.”

And so you take up gardening, your father brings you supplies along with a shelf to place in front of one of the windows to place different pots so you have more to work with. He teaches you the basics and smiles when he sees you get lost in thought while gently patting the dirt around the newly placed Mint Plant.

It’s not as easy for Kuvira, her hobbies consist of sparring, dancing, and at times she liked to silently geek out over Varrick and Baatar’s inventions. The apartment is too small to practice fighting stances or to dance, and there isn’t an invention insight to focus on. So one day when your dad is about to leave, Kuvira asks him to help her find something she might like.

He offers a smile and nods. A few days later he comes over with a basket full of things for her to try, when he places the ball of yarn along with a handbook on the basics of knitting, Kuvira scrunches her nose up at the idea.

Then he places a cookbook down and a beginners' origami kit down before placing a medium-sized package that has ‘Embroidery’ scrawled across it in chicken scratch writing. Lastly, he carefully sets down a blank sketchbook with three different types of ways to fill it in.

“If you don’t like any of these I can bring more,” he says with a smile. Kuvira feels so grateful for your father, the few times your mom has stopped by since that fateful day she’s never acknowledged her existence. But your father always asks about her day and tries to spend some time with her before leaving. It’s surprising, but not unwelcome.

“Thank you, hopefully, one of these works out,” she smiles back and goes to pick up the cookbook to flick through the pages. He walks away to go check on you as he always does and as always you’re in the garden lovingly tending to your plants. You seem to put more care and affection into your work than you do with Kuvira. How can she be jealous of plants?

The cookbook has some decent looking recipes inside, to be honest, the only cooking Kuvira has ever really done was that night with the dumplings. She grew up on the Beifong estate where they had a chef and when she moved into the barracks after becoming a guard they had a team of men and women who cooked meals for them. She even hired someone to cook for them on the train.

It would probably be best for her to learn, especially once your year on house arrest is up, so she carefully sets it back down to use later before shifting through the other items with a curious eye.

The next few weeks she tries them all out, knitting lasts two days before she throws the damn yarn and needles into the trash with disdain and Kuvira accidentally breaks the embroidery hoop fifteen minutes into trying it out. She’s okay at origami but it’s boring, she finishes all the different designs quickly and stares at the collection of stars and swans with a dull expression.

She kind of likes cooking, with the book in hand she ends up making breakfast, lunch, and dinner, much to your surprise. The eggs are a bit overdone, so she’ll have to work on that and lunch has a bit of a char to one side of it which she sees you try to scrape off. But dinner is decent and to her, that’s a win. It could use more salt and the soup probably would be better if she let it cook for longer, but she’ll take this small victory and wear it like a badge of honor.

Lastly is the sketchbook, she stares at the blank page in frustration as nothing comes to mind, what is she meant to do with this? Your father brought a beginner's water coloring kit, a set of charcoal pencils, and colored pencils. She bits her lip as her eyes flit between the three and she grabs the charcoal, that seems good to begin with.

She spends the whole day trying to draw a panda lily that never turns out quite right which drives her mad. The first attempt just looks like a blob, the second a slightly nicer looking blob and the third finally has a hint of the shape she's going for if you stare at it hard enough. So she works with that and tries to remind herself that when she picked up sparring she could barely throw a punch, everything takes time and practice.

When you enter to fill up your watering can you sneakily peek over her shoulder, surprised to see her drawing, before walking back out of the house. It’s good she’s picking up a new hobby, part of you is proud of her, not that you’ll tell her though.

The sessions with Dr. Hanika continue and with each one, Kuvira forces herself to open up a bit more with the motivation that maybe you’ll finally start to talk to her like Dr. Hanika says you will.

When she tells Dr. Hanika about her pursuit of drawing, she tries to play it off by saying “I’m only doing it because I don’t like being bad at things.” They both know that's a lie, drawing has pleasantly consumed her time as she strives to draw beautiful things to one day give to you.

Nights are spent the same, you go to bed and when Kuvira enters an hour later you’re passed out with two pillows placed at the center of the bed to block her from touching you. Her heart breaks as she takes a chance to look at you, the first time that day. There’s a small smile on your lips, you have the blanket tucked up to your neck with one hand resting under your head. You're having a good dream and she silently hopes that she’s part of it.

She knows she can’t sleep in the living room like that first night, even if neither of you touches one another the heat of her body still comforts you, the slight dip that lets you know you aren’t alone. So she changes into her pajamas and slides onto her side of the bed with a sigh. One day those pillows will be gone, she tells herself.

Your routine is broken in the third week of the second month on house arrest. Kuvira is getting lunch ready when there’s a knock at the door, breaking the peaceful silence that lulls through the air.

You place your dirty gardening gloves on the table which has Kuvira letting out a sigh, knowing one of you will have to clean that up before eating, as you walk towards the front door. Your father just barges in at this point with a cheerful hello to announce his presence whilst your mom knocks three times every single time. This is one knock, which means it's someone new.

You don’t know who you expect on the other side of the door, but the avatar was far down on your list of prospects. “Oh, hello,” you say, your voice laced with confusion.

“Is Kuvira here?” She asks and then seems to realize her mistake. “Oh yeah, can I speak to her?” By now Kuvira is done making lunch and heads over to the front door upon hearing her name. She tries not to show her shock at seeing Korra here, but she must be doing a bad job because the younger woman continues. “I need to talk to you about Commander Guan.”

You both let the avatar in, neither of you thinking this conversation should take place in the hallway of your apartment complex. The times you’ve spotted your neighbors they send a hateful glare your way. Talking about an old Empire commander will not help ease the anger they hold towards you.

She slowly walks into your home, looking around with furrowed brows as she takes in the walls, the furniture, and the over-abundance of plants. Whatever Kuvira just made smells delicious and the scent wafts through the living space, confusing her further.

She knows it’s stupid, but Korra expected Kuvira’s apartment to be a lot less homey and a lot more cold and lifeless. She sits down in the cream armchair, whilst the two of you sit down on opposite ends of the couch. That action confuses her more than the apartment does, last time she saw the two of you, you seemed attached at the hip.

This placement reminds Kuvira too much of the first therapy session, she has to bite her tongue and will herself to stay put instead of walking away to brood in the bedroom. “What do you need to know about Commander Guan?” you ask. You sound so calm that it drives Kuvira mad, doesn’t this make you uncomfortable, doesn’t it remind you of that day as well?

“Were you aware his troops never surrendered?” You let out a gasp of surprise as Kuvira balks. Was this another one of her secrets? Another grand plan up her sleeve, just wait and stay quiet with you, playing some form of pretend until he came to get her?

“I swear, Kuvir-”

“No I was not aware,” she says in that all too familiar tone she uses when trying to hide her anger. She side-eyes you, looking hurt at your accusation. Do you really think so little of her now?

None of this goes unnoticed by Korra as she looks between the two of you for any kind of clue that she may be lying. Kuvira forces herself to speak, “Guan is a cunning strategist with a keen mind. I put him in charge of the southern forces because I knew he could keep that region in line.”

“If Guan hasn’t surrendered by now then that means he’s plotting something. I’d treat him like a barrel of blasting jelly with a very short fuse.” You’ve only met Guan a handful of times, each time as unpleasant as the last. He was an asshole who treated everyone that wasn’t Kuvira or Baatar like shit, including yourself. At one point Kuvira had to calmly put him in his place when he tried to demand you go fetch him a glass of whiskey.

“If you were in my position, how would you deal with him?”

“I’d take someone with me who Guan respects. Someone who can reason with him and bring him into line.” Your eyes widen, fully turning to look at Kuvira now. You know what she’s hinting at and you hate the idea with every fiber of your being.

“No,” is all you manage to say.

“You want me to bring you?” Korra leans back in surprise, an incredulous look taking over her features as she stares Kuvira down.

“Guan’s not going to roll over just because the avatar asks him to. But if I meet with him face to face I guarantee I could convince him to concede defeat.” You might not be able to stomach the sight of Kuvira for too long without thinking of her betrayal or manage to talk to her but the idea of her leaving frightens you. What if she escapes and never comes back?

Korra stands with her fists clenched as she walks over to the door, “Thanks for the info but I think I can handle Guan without you.” The door slams behind her and the instant she’s out you’re storming over to the table to grab your gloves. You want to scream at her but you know it won’t do any good.

Kuvira turns to you, she has this desperate kind of look on her face as she tries to scoot closer to you. “I can be of help to them, Y/n.” You ignore her as you walk away, back to your little sanctuary.

#kuvira #kuvira fanfic #kuvira lok #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #lok #legend of korra #lok fanfic #the great trial

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seeds-and-sins · 4 years

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The Seeds accepting you, a young kid, into their family would be like...

• To the surprise of others, cult members and sinners alike, your acceptance into the family happened the moment you met them.

• Your drunk father was being the abusive piece of shit he was at one of Joseph's Sermons and Jacob Seed intervened without hesitation.

• Within weeks John Seed found a way to legally remove you from your father's custody and assign the family as your permanent guardians.

• John pulled some strings even further and your father was sent to prison for child abuse. Needless to say, you won't see him for a while.

• The Seed siblings, at first, had a hard time figuring out who you would live with.

• So you had a room at each of their abodes, free to live with any one of them, whenever you so chose.

• John would spoil you with an endless array of gifts and excessive affectionate hugs and forehead kisses. He would take you flying in his plane whenever you stayed over at his ranch. He even let you fly it one time, but don't tell Joseph.

• Family dinners every friday night were your favorite.

• John would make the meal and it would suck, but nobody wanted to hurt his feelings, so he never would know.

• Jacob would secretly pass his food down to his wolf sitting under the table, motioning for you to be quiet about it with a wink.

• Family conversations sometimes turning into bickering...

• "Unicorns are real! Okay?! The Bible says so!"

• Joseph and you had a garden together that the both of you would work on when you were at his compound. He would read scripture to you, teach you lessons about the world, and talk to you about the collapse.

• Jacob was more about tough love. He had high expectations of you in terms of being efficient when it came to protecting yourself, surviving in the wilderness, and acknowledging your surroundings. (But every now and again, he would allow you to sleep in his arms if you had a nightmare about your abuse, or were afraid).

• Faith, you went to when you had emotional issues, or questions, or when you wanted female company. You both would have sleepovers and she would give you all the sweets you could imagine.

• Family photos where they all are extra and try to get single photos with you. (There might be a fight over who is the favorite parent, but Jacob doesn't call himself parent as much he does guardian).

• Joseph has one really cute photo of John, Jacob and you, that he hides in his journal. It was the day you got officially baptized and as Jacob was trying to help you out of the river, John and you yanked him in.

• You started playing basketball at your highschool, now that your father was gone you had more confidence to explore your interests. And the Seeds were more than enthusiastic about you being more active and social.

• At home games, they would be the ones cheering for you in the stands, the loudest spectators, even Jacob would participate in the madness (mainly to threaten the referee for calling fouls on you).

• Jacob and John worked with you often to make sure that you were the best player on the team. Jacob more so, would force you to train as much as possible.

• The coach let Jacob take over practice one time, since he usually watched on the sidelines. No one made it to the end of pratice, except for you.

• One of your fellow team mates going, "I hope your dad never runs practice ever again."

• Jacob yelling, "Cull the herd!", aggressively, anytime you got the ball.

• Joseph pulling you aside at half time and explaining, "My child, remember when I said violence wasn't the answer? Yes, well, this might be the one time where I am wrong."

• John bragging about you to the opposing team's parents, "Oh look! There they go again! Out running all of your children and scoring on them."

• Your sophmore year you almost failed math, you had good grades in your other classes, but the teacher wouldn't budge. It was your worst subject.

• At away games, it was almost like the whole cult was there to cheer you on. They would take two massive buses of members who would come see you play.

• Your math teacher never called for a parent-teacher conference ever again. Your grade became a C shortly after that meeting.

• John calling your math teacher and saying, "It would be a shame if (insert random blackmail information) became public."

• You being the best in PE class, with none of the kids being able to catch up, because Jacob Seed trained you every early morning. You were a force to be reckoned with.

• When you started dating, the whole family was very protective of you.

• Jacob and John were more direct when it came to threatening your boyfriend/girlfriend about being good to you.

• "If you try anything, I will carve the sin from your flesh myself. No one will be able to save you, and when I am done with you, well..." John's words fading into a deep chuckle, with that leering smile on his expression.

• Jacob crossed arms, stern posture, "Hmm, I hope you know where you belong, you pathetic weak little-" He stopped at Joseph's glare, "Especially where your hands belong, or else you'll lose'em."

• Your first ex ended up finding snakes in their pillow case before they went to bed one night. Jacob swore 'he had nothing to do with it' and John couldn't stop smiling.

• Faith and Joseph were sweet and kind, but their words had a warning lurking beneath them.

• "My child, you are so full of life. I would be very disappointed should something happen that would require that life to be slowly taken from you. I will pray for you." And Joseph traced a cross onto their forehead, which they couldn't have know that that meant they were marked.

• "It's so nice to know that they think you deserve them." Faith placing a hand on her chest, mockingly being kind to your date. "They are so giving and genuine aren't they? Let's hope they are right... for your sake."

• Your boyfriend/girlfriend had to ask permission before taking you to the local drive in.

• Jacob and John stopping you before you leave, "Don't forget that one neck breaking move that I showed you" and "Do you have that knife that I gave you last Christmas".

• When they give you the talk, Jacob was completely absent from the conversation, John wouldn't stop nervously pacing, and Faith and Joseph were mainly doing the talking.

• Jacob piping in at the end, to Joseph's aggravation, "Just make sure you wrap it up, kid."

• "Only when married can two partners share eachother in such an intimate and loving embrace," Joseph explains.

• Jacob admitting, "Ya'know kid, I actually don't mind having you around, and I don't like having anybody around."

• Joseph always saying, "After I lost my daughter, I never thought the Lord would gift me with another child, and then... and then we found you."

• Take your kid to work day, where John takes you to one of the Project's many court hearings at the Missoula courthouse.

• "My daughter/son would be a better lawyer than you ever could be and they haven't even become a lawyer yet."

• All the other cult members practically babysitting you, or watching your back while the Seeds did the Lord's work.

• Jacob giving you your very own Judge, that follows you around the Veteran's Center and elsewhere when he is busy.

• John Seed tried to cook for you one time and it came out horrible, so you both just started get pre-made meals in the mail.

• Prom night at the Hope County Highschool was a night to remember because John, Joseph, Jacob, and Faith all chaperoned.

• When no one wanted to dance with you in fear of your four parents, the Seeds each had one dance with you.

• John, Faith, and you pranked Jacob into beating up your PE teacher, with a disapproving Joseph on the sidelines.

• You all ended up back at the ranch anyways, for a family dinner.

• When you graduated high school, John Seed revealed his secret stash of wine to you, "You are old enough in my book."

• You having trouble figuring out what you want to do in life.

• "Whatever you do, whether its here with us, or not, we will support you."

• Jacob swelling with pride when you join the Army (but secretly afraid because he doesn't want you to go through what he went through), John nearly crying when you explain you want to become a JAG, and be a lawyer like him.

• John calling you to talk about the family and complain, Jacob rarely calling or accepting your phone calls (he doesn't like phones so much, but you know he cares), Joseph and you communicate through letters, and Faith always FaceTimes or Skypes you.

• When the first seal is broken, the Family urges you to return home to help prepare for the collapse.

• Even as you rushed to get back, there was not enough time.

• You don't make it back before the collapse and end up stuck in someone else's bunker, an individual that you soon come to be friends with.

• Joseph gives you a frantic welcome, crying and holding you in his vice grasp. He explains what happened, how Jacob, John and Faith were killed.

• When the seven years ends, you head straight to Hope County, your bunk mate and you head your separate ways. You look for your family with all of the energy you have, and you find them. There is only one left.

• And then you cry and feel guilty, because you blame yourself for not getting back in time. But Joseph talks you out of that guilt and explains to you that what we do now will be in their honor.

• Ethan being slightly jealous when Joseph shows you more love and affection than him.

• Joseph and you talk about them often.

• And he introduces you to the man you would call your brother, Ethan.

• Together, the three of you try to build what your family had always wanted.

• Joseph stating with so much appreciation and gratefulness in his voice, "You came back safe to me, you came back home. I am proud of you, and John, Jacob, and Faith would be so proud of you too."

• And you never once realized that the Judge was, in fact, the murderer of your beloved parents.

• At least you had Joseph and Ethan...

• Since the day Jacob punched your dad across the jaw in the church, "I know what it's like. No one will ever touch you like that ever again", he promised.

• The day that John stood in a court room and fought for you, "You are one of us now, and we Seeds protect eachother."

• The day that Joseph wrapped a blanket around you, "I knew you would come to us, to be part of our family."

• And the day that Faith held you in her loving embrace, "Everything happens for a reason, my little flower."

• That was the day you became a Seed.

#jacob seed #john seed #joseph seed #faith seed #farcry 5 #far cry deputy #reader #growing up #guardianship #taking care #the Seeds basically raise you #abusive relationship with biological father #Jacob saves you #sad ending

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thebibliomancer · 4 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #222: A Gathering of Evil!

August, 1982

You know, I haven’t really thought about how long its been since the Avengers have dealt with the Masters of Evil.

The Masters are the Avengers’ evil opposite team. The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants to their X-Men. The Legion of Doom to their Justice League. The Revengers to their Avengers.

But the Avengers haven’t had to deal with the Masters of Evil since Avengers #83. And in that appearance, they took a backseat to the real master of evil. FEMINISM.

At least according to Roy Thomas.

But yeah. Its been a while without the Masters of Evil. And, uh, any team with Whirlwind has a long way to climb for credibility. Yeah, I said it. He doesn’t wear a shirt.

Also, they put She-Hulk in her at-the-time Iconic She-Hulk Outfit. This is another case of the cover lying. The reality is, somehow, even more embarrassing for her.

Last time: the Avengers had a membership drive because you can only be a kooky quartet for so long. She-Hulk and Hawkeye were recruited and took an instant dislike to each other.

Because She-Hulk cut off Hawkeye in traffic and Hawkeye proportionately responded by breaking her car.

Fun!

So lets get to it.

We start with She-Hulk trying to fix her car.

Annnnd she’s throwing random pieces out of the hood. I don’t think she knows much about auto-repair.

When the electrical system zaps her, she gets so angry that she smashes the car flat like she’s a Street Fighter. Then she jams the wreckage into a public trashcan - also flattening that.

Alas, She-Hulk’s pink Cadillac. You graced our lives for far too short a time. And were taken from us by that heinous bowman Hawkeye. This is the sin which I will always hold against him.

Wasp rolls into the scene, tsking about She-Hulk’s behavior being bad for the Avengers’ image. And hey, yeah! I do like that She-Hulk trying to fix a car in front of the mansion before getting fed-up and breaking it is a good indication that she’s not going to be your typical Avenger.

But despite the tsk she’s not too serious about the admonishment. She even congratulates She-Hulk on getting rid of the car, as it clashed with her skin color.

Reasonably enough, She-Hulk asks who made Wasp the expert.

Except, Wasp did. Wasp made Wasp an expert. She’s literally a professional fashion designer. But relatedly, she’s designed a whole new wardrobe for She-Hulk and can’t wait to dress her up.

I kind of wonder if Wasp views new female teammates as potential canvasses.

Later on, in the Busiek run, she’ll design a new outfit for Firestar pretty much without any input from Firestar herself. And it had an incredibly plunging neckline that Firestar was very uncomfortable with.

If Wasp offers to fashion design for you, feel flattered and a little bit afraid.

Anyway, She-Hulk decides well might be nice to try on a bunch of new clothes.

Y’know, She-Hulk is a bit of a fashion person herself. In her original solo book she started the ‘oops I flexed and my sleeves fell off’ fashion.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Tony Stark at Stark International.

Big boss himself came down to the Long Island office because one of his programmers has asked for time off.

Brenner’s son is sick and he needs to pick him up from school. BUT: he’s in the middle of a complicated computer project!

Like the idealized fictional caring billionaire that he is, Tony is completely understanding.

Tony Stark, what a guy: “Well, your son is more important than any computer program, take the rest of the day off -- with pay.”

If you end up stuck in the Marvel universe somehow, see about swinging a job with Tony Stark. Tony Stark makes you feel/he’s the cool exec with the heart of steel.

Tony decides he’ll get Ordinary Electrical Engineer Scott Lang to finish the programming work.

Ordinary Electrical Engineer Scott Lang is happy to pick up the project but since Tony Stark is in the room anyway, Scott asks if Iron Man has mentioned any news of Hank Pym.

For you see, although you might think that this Scott Lang is an Ordinary Electrical Engineer, he is actually the new Ant-Man so he feels indebted to Hank Pym.

Tony responds that there hasn’t been any news since Hank Pym went to jail so Scott asks why the Avengers haven’t done anything for him. Tony claims that there’s not a lot that the Avengers can do for him until his case comes to trial.

You could hire him a good lawyer? Or pay for that therapy that you thought he needed?

I guess I don’t know that Tony isn’t doing these things off-screen, to be fair.

Tony further claims that Hank will do fiiiine in jail, because he’s tough. Scott remains dubious since he’s actually been to jail and knows what its like. But there’s only so much you can contradict the boss, even if he’s idealized fictional caring billionaire Tony Stark.

And anyway, Tony has other things on his mind. He’s more worried about Jan than he is about Hank. She’s way too well-adjusted for having gotten divorced after her marriage turned miserable. According to Tony Stark anyway.

Of course, his major misunderstanding is that he thinks “she had [Hank] to lean on for so many years” when it was more the other way around. The Jan he thought he knew was actually playing the role of the Hank Pym Hype Squad.

Meanwhile, we check in on Steve Rogers.

One thing I appreciate about this run of Avengers is that we have more of a sense of what the Avengers are doing when not Avengersing. The Avengers book feels a lot more keyed into the rest of the related Marvel universe.

For example, Steve actually got some art jobs! It looks like comics book actually! And he does art for advertisements too!

And he’s living that glamorous artist life of staying up all night to finish pages and then going ‘oh shit my day job’ when his alarm rings for the Avengers meeting.

Although he’s actually looking forward to getting the costume on and getting away from dealing with ad executives and art editors for a while.A good ol’ several hours in the Avengers gym will help work out the art desk bad posture knots out of his shoulders.

And elsewhere in Chicago, Illinois, where Ordinary Doctor Donald Blake has moved to attempt to make a life for himself separate from Thor. He’s doubtful whether he actually can.

I sorta wonder what the status quo in the Thor books is like because usually when Dr. Donald Blake shows up in the Avengers book, he’s been like a wandering expert doctor, just passing through. Showing up to do the tough medical jobs. He’s settling down in Chicago now.

But at least the thousand mile commute to the weekly Avengers meeting is no problem for THOR!

Now that Hawkeye is on the Avengers again, he’s part of the round of checking in. He’s clocking out of the security chief job at Cross Technological Enterprises. His colleagues all envying how he gets to set his own hours.

He takes a train from Yonkers to his new Central Park West apartment. I don’t know if you remember his living conditions before he got the job at Cross Technological but it was a bit suck. He’s definitely put his steady paycheck to use improving his digs.

Old (from issue #189):

New (from issue #this issue):

Although maybe too much. Because when he gets home he realizes that he has almost no food in his apartment and also no money until payday.

Hawkeye: “Where the heck does $1200 a week go, anyway? I don’t play Pac-Man that much! There was more change in my pocket in the old carny days!”

Psst, Hawkeye. Definitely sign up for the stipend check from Stark.

Another thousand a week will go a long way to keeping you living the can afford food standard of living you’re accustomed to.

He manages to find a bag of potato chips to snack on but decides he’ll have to see if he can find an actual square meal at Avengers Mansion.

Likely. Jarvis seems the sort to keep the fridge well-stocked and heck he’d probably make something if asked.

Anyway, Hawkeye being Hawkeye, he’s not going to take the elevator or stairs. He’s definitely going to fire a cable arrow so he can swing down from his balcony. Because, of course he is. He’s Hawkeye.

And he lands right in front of a taxi, the driver of which calls him a nut

Hawkeye: “You want a star in your cab or not?”

Turns out? No. Hawkeye has to walk to Avengers Mansion and arrives late because the cabbie won’t give him a free ride.

Meanwhile at Avengers Mansion (which fails to elicit the same kneejerk emotional response as ‘meanwhile at the HALL of JUSTICE’ from me), the She-Hulk clothing montage has occurred off-screen.

For shaaaame, James Shooter. And also Steven Grant.

She-Hulk isn’t so sure about the outfit Wasp put together for her.

Wasp: “I call it Arabian Night -- a blend of suppleness, strength and sensitivity to highlight your true nature!”

She-Hulk: “Don’t you think it’s a little... unusual?”

Wasp: “You’re an unusual woman, Jennifer! Your clothes should say that! We want a complete image that’ll drive me wild at the sight of you!”

She-Hulk: “Got anything that’ll drive that jerk Hawkeye one way to oblivion?”

I don’t know if fashion can do that but if anyone could design that, Wasp could. Her or Giger.

Wasp tries to defend Hawkeye but can only manage “he’s okay, just a little... um, well, you know!” but suggests that She-Hulk just be nice to Hawkeye to throw him off.

Which. Sounds like a funny idea.

Anyway, I like the outfit. The colors work for her. And maybe it’s because there are a couple Dragon Ball outfits like this but it feels appropriate for her. Because of the punching.

Iron Man comes in and goes ga-ga multiple punctuation over She-Hulk’s new look, which I guess proves that Wasp hit where she was aiming.

Wasp: “Oh, more flattery! More! I love it! And this is just the beginning. Wait until you see the fighting togs I’m designing for her!”

So I guess that this is just an outfit to look good in and Wasp is still working on the superhero outfit. Can’t wait to see it.

Captain America and Thor come in and Thor too praises She-Hulk’s new look.

Thor: “By Odin’s beard! What emerald beauty stands before us?”

They date later. Its one of those ‘wow expected this to happen way sooner than 2018 honestly’ things.

And then Hawkeye comes in.

He also loses his shit over She-Hulk’s new look. But in more of a Hawkeye way.

Hawkeye: “Waitaminit! Is it Cheryl Tiegs? Loni Anderson? No! It’s the new fashion plate -- the Savage She-Hulk! Talk about trying to get silk purses from sow’s ears!”

You’re a rude, Hawkeye.

She-Hulk storms towards him, offended, and just lifts him bodily.

And kisses him.

Then drops his ass on the ground.

I guessss remembering and putting her own spin on Wasp’s suggestion?

People need to stop kissing each other for spite and revenge reasons, honestly.

I do get a laugh at Hawkwye demanding a rematch. Can’t imagine what form that’d take. But its funny.

I kind of have a problem with the scene, beyond the people kissing each other for spite and revenge thing. Prior to joining the Avengers, the issue where She-Hulk got her pink Cadillac was Marvel Two-In-One #88 where she spent nearly the entire issue hitting on the Thing to his discomfort. And the joke was Ha Ha Sexually Assertive Women.

I really hope that we do not have that again.

Anyway, the other Avengers get some yuks over She-Hulk’s method of shutting up Hawkeye.

Iron Man even suggests that Hawkeye and She-Hulk have just had their first date to Hawkeye’s dismay.

Seriously, someone write an Avengers code of conduct and then create an HR department.

MEANWHILE, CHANGING THE TOPIC AND THE SCENE

In Egghead’s secret Manhattan laboratory.

Egghead: “No, it’s not fair! All I ever wanted was to rule the world -- is that so much to ask? I’m 52. That doesn’t give me many years left -- that idiot Henry Pym blew what may have been my last chance!”

Hah at Egghead having a baby tantrum over being thwarted. And I guess good to know that Hank screwing up the plan by calling the Avengers did screw over more than Hank Pym.

Hank may have saved the world, actually. Good job, Hank.

Egghead laments that he wishes he had another good plan but kind of put all the eggs, hah, in the unstoppable adamantium robots basket.

And then his sexy maid Anna chimes in with a suggestion.

Wait, why does Egghead of all villains have a sexy maid? Who seems to have a crush on him? Why is this a thing? Who in or out of universe looks at Egghead and thinks ‘yes this man is a sexual dynamo’?

Eh, whatever.

Anna: “Vhy don’t choo just buy the vorld, darlkink?”

Egghead: “Anna! Vhat... er, what did you say?”

Anna: “You should make a lot ov money und buy the vorld!”

Egghead: “Work?! Disgusting!”

This is probably the only time I will ever be able to say this but I agree with Egghead.

Anna: “No, no, no! Just invent somethink that everyvun vants -- a cure for baldness, mebbe... or eternal youth!”

Egghead: “That’s silly, Anna! Or is it?”

IT IN FACT WASN’T!

Egghead suddenly stands up, dumping sexy maid Anna to the floor, as he realizes that she’s right! If Egghead could invent cell rejuvenation to give people eternal youth, the world would be his oyster! People would give anything for it!

Granted, he has no idea how to invent cell rejuvenation but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Today’s problem is the logistics. He’ll need research, money, equipment and most importantly of all lackeys to steal all that stuff for him so he won’t have to Effort!

So moments later, Egghead signals a robot spy capsule that he has monitoring Atlantis at all times just because.

Egghead’s spy capsule launches a guided missile at an Atlantean prison, busting out someone mysterious unless you happened to glance at the cover.

And we go from one prison to another prison to pop in on Hank Pym at Ryker’s Island.

Ryker’s is apparently the go-to supervillain prison.

And whoops Hank Pym is one now, at least according to the law. What with being caught with all that stolen adamantium and the mind control prosthetic arm.

Hank Pym: “It just doesn’t make sense! All I tried to do was redeem myself, but things just got out of control! Egghead’s responsible for this! He committed the crime I’m accused of -- and made sure I can’t prove it! Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

Probably because you did do the crime and were caught in the act and you wouldn’t explain yourself fully afterward. Just saying.

Hank Pym: “Jan! That’s where it all went wrong! If I could get her back, everything would work out! I know it!”

Hank Hank Hank... You’re suddenly a romantic.

A guard yells at Hank that its food time and then further yells that his son had looked up to Hank, which causes Hank to reflect whoops he let down more than just Jan and the Avengers.

When Hank sits down to eat prison chow, he’s accosted by Dave Cannon aka WHIRLWIND aka I guess Hank’s backup archnemesis?

Hank isn’t really spoiled for choice with good archnemeses so he either has Egghead or spin around real fast man.

At least Dave Cannon aka Whirlwind is trying to go for the personal lowblow. That’s a decent, if gross, archnemesis move.

He insinuates that hey if Jan divorced Hank that means Dave has a chance with her and he’s going to visit her as soon as he jailbreaks out of here today.

I’m sure he does have a chance. Like a snowball’s in hell, maybe.

Hank tells Dave to shut up because shut up, Dave.

But Dave ups the ante by suggesting that after Hank Pym gets out of jail in maybe ten or twenty years, he and Jan will hire Hank to be their chauffeur.

So Hank smashes a tray of food in Dave’s face because shut up, Dave.

He also starts punching him because in for a penny.

And because Hank totally started that ‘fight’ the guards haul Hank off for a month in solitary.

You wouldn’t think Hank’s life could get worse in every issue he appears in but you would be wrong.

And wouldn’t you know it? As soon as Hank is out of the room, the jailbreak starts without him.

He doesn’t even get to participate in activities now! Geez, Dave Cannon! You’re ruining prison for Hank.

Anyway, the mysterious figure from the Atlantis jailbreak scene is now jailbreaking Ryker’s and iiiiiits TIGER SHARK!

A guy I know almost nothing about!

-google- Ah, Namor foe. That explains him being a shark man.

He used to be an Olympic swimmer who injured his spinal cord when he rescued a drowning man. So a pretty good guy, starting off. Then to heal his spine he participated in an experimental procedure where Namor and tiger shark DNA was blended with his own and he became a shark man and an asshole.

I think that’s the Namor DNA personally. It makes people into jerks. And Namor is 100% Namor DNA so you can imagine what a jerk he is.

I’ve gotten lost in the weeds.

Tiger Shark busts in through a supposedly impregnable prison wall. The guards try to shoot him with ‘special weapons’ but Tiger Shark thwarts them with a special weapon of his own.

A TABLE!

Which he uses to block the shots and then hit them with.

They were fools to put their faith in high-falutin’ technology when they could have been investing in low-falutin’ carpentry.

That’s right, they should have gotten wooden guns.

With the guards tabled for now, Tiger Shark collects Scorpion and Whirlwind.

That’s two supervillains on his shopping list but there’s one more to get.

So the three detour over down to the women’s wing while the jailbreak of everyone else keeps the guards very busy.

And they find Dr. Karla Sofen, Ordinary Criminal Psychologist who got superpower from a space rock. Y’know, a Moonstone.

She has a few follow-up questions before she throws in with these goons but Tiger Shark isn’t a good conversationalist.

Tiger Shark: “You wanna get snuffed right here, lady?! Move! Negotiations are closed!”

She grudgingly accepts these terms. The caption box says so.

The four supervillains take a remote controlled escape boat and escape on a boat.

Later, in a safehouse on Long Island Sound, the four supervillains are all costumed up and already feeling cooped up with each other. It is a small house and they are all big personalities.

Tiger Shark and Whirlwind even get into a fight when Tiger Shark complains about waiting and about suburbia and Whirlwind tells him to shut up. And by fight I mean Tiger Shark smacks Whirlwind in the head. Because its Whirlwind.

Ant-Man’s backup archnemesis. And Tiger Shark fights Namor. Its a mismatch.

But its enough of a ‘fight’ to cause a stir.

Egghead: “Stop your silly squabbling! Fighting among yourselves won’t further my plans!”

Moonstone: “Wha -- ?! Egghead?!”

Tiger Shark: “What’s an Egghead?”

Hah.

I don’t know why this exchange amuses me so much.

Egghead is perfectly happy to introduce himself slash ramble on and on with words words words. He is PERHAPS the world’s greatest genius (hahahahah noooo) but says he may find a cure to Tiger Shark’s “repugnant amphibious condition.”

Egghead: “If you all follow me without question, you’ll share in my forthcoming power and wealth! In addition to being bodyguards, you’ll perform various tasks for me -- beginning tonight, when you loot a certain Manhattan medical research center to obtain data and supplies! Cross me -- and no one will ever hear from you again!”

I’ll make fun of Egghead any day of the week but I’ll give him this. He evidently delivers this speech with such conviction that ‘shark man who fights Namor’ just nods and apparently thinks yes this sounds legit.

And lets be honest, between Whirlwind, Scorpion, Moonstone, and Tiger Shark none of them look at this eggheaded guy threatening them and think about trying something.

Egghead appoints Moonstone his deputy and team leader. Because, he says, she’s such a well-trained follower.

Okay, okay, okay. Okay.

So, Dr. Karla Sofen first appeared as a henchwoman to Dr. Faustus.

But then she tricked the original Moonstone into giving the moonstone to her and became the new Moonstone. And here I didn’t even know there was an original Moonstone.

My point being, yes, early on you might look at Moonstone’s history and think ‘yes she’s definitely a subordinate person who won’t give me trouble’ but from a modern perspective?

I know Modern Moonstone for basically being the Starscream of whatever team she’s on. Starting from Thunderbolts at least, she’s never the boss, she’s happy being the deputy but she’s always scheming and manipulating and undermining her boss.

I really want this to be a hilariously bad judge of character Egghead has made. I really do.

Meanwhile, Whirlwind thinks that he’ll play along with Egghead’s plans. Until he gets bored.

And then I guess he gets bored like five seconds later because he decides that since the job Egghead wants them to do isn’t until evening, he can go visit Wasp.

And yeah. We scene transition to Avengers Mansion and Whirlwind is just lurking in the bushes spying on Wasp’s limo.

Inside the mansion, with the Avengers’ meeting over, the Avengers all get ready to go about the rest of their business.

Hawkeye saying he has to get home gets She-Hulk to start musing on how she hasn’t had a real home since she left Los Angeles.

Which she did for... reasons? She seemed like she was going to stay in LA at the end of her original Savage She-Hulk book. She probably did it so she could do crossovers. That makes sense.

Wasp tells She-Hulk that since Tony doesn’t charge rent, She-Hulk can just stay at Avengers Mansion for a while. And in a couple days, she’ll take She-Hulk apartment hunting.

Wasp is a good friend.

She heads out to her limo and tells Mr. Carrothers to take her to her Manhattan apartment.

BUT WHOOPS iiiiiiiiiits Whirlwind!

He knocked out Mr. Carrothers over the head and stashed him in the bushes. Wow, being Wasp’s chauffeur is very eventful.

Whirlwind: “Forget him. I’m the man in your life now! I figure with your ex in the slammer, you’re gonna need an understanding shoulder to lean on -- .”

And then Wasp shrinks down and shoots Whirlwind in the face.

Wasp: “That’s awfully considerate of you. But next time send flowers first, okay? By the way, have you ever met me bio-electric sting?”

Get rekt, Whirlwind.

This has been a really good span of issues for Wasp. I’m boggling a little. My standards weren’t super high to be honest but this has been good.

I mean, aside from her wearing her Avengers #194-196 costume again. The one with only one pant leg. Of all your costumes to wear under normal clothes, why this one, Jan?

Outside the limo, Hawkeye is trying to sneak back into the mansion to raid the pantry and hoping everyone else has gone.

Because he doesn’t want them to know that two-jobs Hawkeye is having money trouble, I guess? But dude, just confide in Jarvis. He’s a good guy.

Anyway, point being, because of Hawkeye’s hungry little tummy, he sneaks back to the mansion in time to see flashes of energy from inside Jan’s limo.

Hawkeye runs to Jan’s rescue and instantly gets blasted by Moonstone who has just arrived to yell at Whirlwind for taking off without her permission.

Whirlwind says he doesn’t have to answer to Moonstone and a presumably very frustrated Moonstone answers yes he does, that is the very thing he has agreed to when he joined the new Masters of Evil!

I feel maybe announcing loudly that you are the new Masters of Evil right in front of the Avengers is kind of jumping the gun.

Not to mention having the whole time show up to pose like a team just to pull Whirlwind’s butt out of the fire but like I said, this isn’t a very impressive seeming iteration of the Masters.

They do have this much, at least. Hawkeye recognizes each one of these bozos (muffled foghorns from Titan Up the Defense way) and recognizes that he and Wasp are outpowered in addition to being outnumbered.

Reinforced by Tiger Shark just smacking Wasp out of the air.

I think her one legged outfit is slowing her down.

So Hawkeye fires a flare arrow to try to summon help.

Remember when the Avengers had radio rings? That’d probably be a less obvious way to signal for help. Because Moonstone sees Hawkeye shoot a flare arrow that LIGHTS UP THE AREA and shoots him for sending up a signal.

And then she turns to the others and goes “Why didn’t you blunderers stop him?”

Its a good point. Tiger Shark points out though that she didn’t stop him either.

Again: not a very impressive iteration of the team.

Whirlwind, trying to put on the pragmatic hat way too late, says that they should kill Hawkeye and skedaddle because fighting in front of Avengers Mansion makes him nervous.

But he’s still Whirlwind so he’s still gross so he thinks to himself that he wants to grab Wasp before they go.

And what, dude? You gonna keep her under your bed? WHATS YOUR CREEPY ENDGAME?

On second thought, I don’t want to know. Geez, this is awful but I’m glad that Wasp died in Ultimate comics before an exceptionally creepy Ultimate Whirlwind could show up and keep her in a well or something.

Hey, maybe if we tell Whirlwind that Living Laser is also obsessed with Wasp, the two will fight to the death and I won’t have to deal with either one!

Anyway. Off-track. Anyway.

With a sound of thunder, a Perfectly Ordinary Uru Hammer THOOMs by smacking every villain before returning to Thor’s hand.

Yeah, fighting in front of Avengers Mansion? Really dumb!

Thor: “Stand back, perfidious mortals, or face the wrath of Thor!”

Wasp: “Huh? Thor! I always thought you were handsome -- but you never looked better than you do now!”

Thor: “Fair Wasp, thou art safe in my hands!”

Wasp: (Mmmm! Don’t I wish!)

Well, you’re free to play the field now, Wasp. Go for it.

Meanwhile, over in Avengers Mansion, She-Hulk hears the racket and gets up from her nap to see a supervillain battle taking place on the street in front of the Mansion and just kind of sighs about New York being like this.

Again again: fighting in front of Avengers Mansion? REALLY DUMB!

Moonstone even realizes it.

Moonstone: “This is insane -- wasting our energy battling the Avengers for nothing! We’ve got to end this fight and escape!”

She tells Scorpion to take Thor which either shows a high esteem of him or a very low regard. Either way, Scorpion is happy to try, tail-whipping Thor through the air.

Inside the mansion, She-Hulk decides that the only way to get some peace and quiet is to throw hands. Side benefit: she’ll also get to prove herself to the Avengers.

But I like that the primary reason is that she just wants to have a dang nap and this nonsense is preventing it.

So she OH YEAHs through the window because heck Tony Stark will pay to fix it and runs towards the battle.

Haha look at that tiny alarmed Jarvis in the window. I love that kind of background detail. Amazing.

Wasp takes a break from, I dunno fantasizing about Thor, to fly over in a panic.

Wasp: “Oh, no! That outfit is an original! Tear it -- and I’ll never speak to you again!”

She sure has her priorities. I think maybe she doesn’t think these new Masters of Evil are all that threatening.

Maybe she shouldn’t be so worried though. She-Hulk just jumped through a glass window and the outfit looks untouched.

She-Hulk: “You can’t be serious?! You are. Ohhh... fudge! This is ridiculous!”

She definitely had to stop herself from saying an f-bomb.

So She-Hulk stops running to help Thor and sits down to start pulling the Van Dyne Original outfit off so Wasp won’t friend break up with her.

I’m sure Thor is doing fine though.

Ha ha, just kidding.

Moondragon is keeping him pinned down with her laser blasts and Tiger Shark hits him with something almost as powerful as TABLE.

A CAR.

Tiger Shark: “That Avenger creep thinks he’s the strongest there is. Me, I can withstand the pressures of the ocean’s floor without breathing hard. So when you’re talking strength -- you’re talking Tiger Shark!”

Hey, cool! Its the same thing writers use to argue Aquaman Strong Actually. I wonder if this actually predates that. It’d be funny if Tiger Shark preempted Aquaman in anything.

Wasp (while blasting Scorpion in his Scorpion neck) asks Thor if he’s okay but I think Thor is more annoyed than endangered by being ganged up on by the villains.

Thor: “Aye, the villain’s cowardly attack availed him naught against the might of Thor! I would see this battle ended!”

Tiger Shark basically says ‘nuh uh’ or “Together we can turn him into hamburger!” but then someone punches Tiger Shark from behind and knocks him out.

Scorpion: “Who in -- ? Some chick from Frederick’s of Hollywood?”

She-Hulk: “Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am! I don’t want to hear it!”

So, yeah, She-Hulk has arrived. In her underwear. So she doesn’t offend Wasp.

I guess after the Moondragon arc, Wasp is paying forward the wardrobe embarrassments.

Very rude, Jan.

Hawkeye is also up and raring to arrow. And he nails Whirlwind with said shock arrow annnd knocks him out.

Yup, this is the part of the book where we’re running out of pages so the villains start going down really easy.

Next, Wasp shoots Moonstone and She-Hulk multi-tasks by punching Moonstone into Scorpion and knocking both of them out.

Which means that She-Hulk is MVP of this fight. She arrives the latest but knocks out the most people. Good job, She-Hulk. Even Hawkeye admits that she did pretty good (qualified with “for a beginner!” which She-Hulk just laughs off.)

Meanwhile, in his hidden laboratory, Egghead is thinking that you can’t get good help these days.

Egghead: “Fools! We would have destroyed the Avengers eventually! There was no need to upset my timetable!”

But its only a minor setback and he considers that this stomp may leave them more willing to see that his ideas are best ideas.

I really hope that everyone pins the blame on Whirlwind when Egghead inevitably has to break them out of prison again to assemble his Masters of Evil again.

Hm, and I didn’t wonder this before but why Masters of Evil as a team name? He has no connection with any of the previous iterations, I don’t think. Weird.

Back at the mansion, the Avengers stand around being pretty pleased with themselves for beating up a bunch of people who attacked them for no reason and sucked at it.

The only sour note is that Wasp lost yet another limo (to Tiger Shark’s deadly CAR attack) but even then she says she was ready to trade it in on a DeLorean anyway.

Wait, aren’t DeLoreans known for having disappointing performance for a car and adequate performance as a time machine? Wasp, why are you getting a DeLorean, you kook!

She-Hulk, who sold her dignity to keep Jan’s friendship, suggests that the two of them go looking for new cars together.

OH RIGHT. Issue started with She-Hulk’s poor lamented pink Cadillac being junked. That’s bookends, it is. They’re the Sisterhood of the Broken Cars now.

So a very decent story!

Stuff is being setup with Egghead, the Hank Pym plot thread is still going, and we’ve got a new Avengers roster to settle into.

Although. Between the Moondragon arc and this, I’m wondering if clothing mishaps is going to be a running joke going forward and I hope not. Or at least let the guys in on it. Let Thor get locked out of the house in his underwear. It is only fair.

To the readers, if not the characters.

Although, I guess that is kind of what happened in the Molecule Man story. Tony Stark stuck in only his underwear and had to wear Ordinary Doctor Donald Blake’s jacket around his waist.

Not much more to say about this. Its a solid issue.

Follow @essential-avengers. Because: reasons. Also like and reblog. Because: similar but different reasons. Selling myself is hard.

#Avengers #Masters of Evil #Egghead #the Wasp #She Hulk #Hawkeye #Thor #essential avengers #Whirlwind is a creep #She Hulk's sweet new threads #f in chat for She Hulk's pink cadillac #She Hulk kisses hawkeye and its terrible for everyone #including you #essential marvel liveblogging

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un4given09 · 4 years

Text

Kiran’s rant

Okay i wrote this a while back (based from a promo from CM Punk), the issue i had with Book 3 of FEH was while i thought it was good the one thing i give complaint to is Alfonse’s father’s lack of being well a dad, even his dying words sounds like he wants Alfonse only to fulfill his duties and nothing else. Not even a “I love you, son” from him so anyways here’s my take on how my Summoner would rant on Gustav’s chastising on Alfonse

Kiran: Alright, listen here you shrieking dead beat!

You thought Al was the only one who risked his life to save this town? Not me, Not your only daughter, Not Commander Anna and all of us?! What’s the matter? Huh? You don’t like that?! Do you Lord Royal Highness Gus? You don’t like it when we save innocent peasant folk who will likely die anyways due to the so called “Exanguinator’s” neglect? Do you?!

Well let me just tell you what you’re going to do about me and the Order of Heroes: Absolutely nothing.

Gustav: YOU! HOW DA-

Kiran: I’m not done! Not by a longshot! You know what? Al has nothing to do with what’s really going on here! Its about time we’re going to put our co-

Gustav: SILENCE! YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE AGAINST ASKR’S KI-

Kiran: NO YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH! YOU’RE GONNA LISTEN TO ME! YOU’RE GONNA MAN UP! YOU’RE GONNA TAKE YOUR BALLS OUT OF YOUR PANTS RIGHT NOW! WE’RE GOING TO LAY OUR CARDS ON THE TABLE!

YOU, Gus, don’t like me, YOU, Gus don’t like the Order of Heroes, but it has nothing to do with who we are and what we do! And I may not have a degree in psychology but I can be damn qualified to be your psychologist for a moment, it has everything to do with who you are not.

See the thing is, I talked with your citizens and when I asked them about you, what they only know is you at face value. See Gus, The people have absolutely no idea who you really are. That’s because when you were Prince of Askr you had the look, but man! oh man! Did you ever sucked! And it got really really difficult Gus, when that incident with that Skank Skank Skank ass Skank Hel, your own dad was the one who died a Hero to save your skin! While you amount to nothing more than a Zero.

See Gus, you were boring, you weren’t charismatic, you weren’t heroic, you were vanilla- that’s right boring! And it kills you that you never amounted to anything the likes of Marth, Alm, and so on as a King, so you traded your lame-ass sword for your equally lame-ass axe. You went from somebody who was reckless to somebody who blames others for their potential recklessness.

And now that you you’re Mr. Gus “High and Mighty” you take your eyes and look at someone like me, me from a world with no magic, me from a world on a brink of total annihilation thanks to idiots in power, me who was about to give up on life and end myself before Anna summoned me here! You took a good look at me and you can’t stand the fact that in just 2 years as Summoner and Tactician for the Order of Heroes, I’ve accomplished more than you ever had in your entire life!

You! You know what? I don’t even know why I’m screaming. You just don’t have an original thought in your body, you accused us of being reckless when we had each others backs at all cost, as if we, and by that I mean the Order of heroes as a whole has become an extended family to your children! Especially Sharena, yeah that’s right the “childish, irresponsible princess” who for how many times you told her to shut up when all she wants is to voice her opinion and ease Alfonse’s burdens, or maybe even just a fucking THANK YOU, DAD!.

So sure call your children whatever you want, but don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare call either of them reckless for doing what’s right. Whether you like that or not, Gus. The fact of the matter is, that this whole “act of recklessness” you accuse us, especially Al of, is simply what we in the Order of Heroes call:

BEING. A .HERO!

“A Hero is the one who does an extraordinary and generous act of courage, which will or may result in the conscious sacrifice of themselves to protect the good of others”

Just a small words from my home world, but they mean a lot especially when I met all these true born heroes who will fight for the good of us all.

And if you want to have my head on a pike, well better men had tried and Surtr had failed. But you’re going to execute or banish me based on one thing: your pure jealousy of who I am and where I come from and the fact, the fact that I AM KIRAN! THE SUMMONER! THE TACTICIAN! THE GREAT HERO OF ASKRAN LEGEND! THE SAVIOR OF NIFL! SURTR’S BANE! YEAH THAT’S RIGHT I’M THE ONE! AND MAYBE JUST MAYBE SOMEDAY: THE SLAYER OF DEATH ITSELF!

And you can’t stand it so you’re going to plan a way to get rid of me or have Alfonse and I separated.

Well let me tell you something, Gus: doesn’t matter what you do to me or my friends in our war against Hel, because by the end of it regardless whether we succeed or not, Me, Alfonse, Sharena, Anna, Eir and all of us heroes will still be better than you.

And after that if you banish or execute me I’ll have my friends and the Kingdom, YOUR Kingdom of Askr doing something you wished your whole reign as King did: I’ll have them talking about you. You see, I’m not gonna revolt and wage war against Askr, I’m not gonna have any of the Ninjas here slit your throat while you sleep at night, but I’m gonna have those people talking about you for sure.

In the future they’ll be talking how King Gustav of Askr, King Gustav the pathetic was nothing compared to his son King Alfonse and his friend, THE GREAT HERO KIRAN WHO KICKED MORE ASS THAN HE EVER DID IN HIS WHOLE LIFE!!!

Gustav: ….

Kiran: ….

Gustav: By my right as King I hereby forbid any action this… “Order of Heroes” commit until further notice, and you, as an act of mercy I will spare you for this time for the sake of my children, but do this ever again and I will have your head!

Kiran: And like that your jealousy shows itself, You’re Pathetic!

Later

Anna: Kiran? You alright?

Sharena: Kiran! How could you say that?!

Kiran: Oh but I mean it, Sharena. I swear i won’t let Alfonse die like this... It’s what Fjorm would have want...

#fire emblem heroes #feh #feh kiran #feh book 3 #fire emblem anna #feh sharena #feh book III

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anxious-l0ser · 4 years

Text

Still Into You

so um, i guess, welcome to my first full fic? idk, this was supposed to just be a ficlet, but my mind wondered and wouldn't stop, so now i have this lmao. this is basically a LAMP fic (only one chapter) in a rock band au, where Roman is the lead singer, Virgil is the guitarist, Patton is the bassist, and Logan is the drummer (generic, ik, let me live lmao) (also somebody please teach me how to tag shit, idk how-)

Ship: romantic LAMP

Warnings: concerts, ig? mentions of kissing, homophobia in the musical industry

The cheers from the crowd echoed back to Roman in a perfect harmony, his veins pumping the pure electricity from the energy in the room, and even their imperfect, gasping breaths for air seemed to mix perfectly into the internal beat of the room.

Roman had never felt such euphoria.

“Thank you, LA!”

Another round of applause and cheering caused Roman’s head to feel floaty, a dopey smile already playing around on his face as he tried to suppress the laugh bubbling up in his chest. He always found the feeling of performing intoxicating, and the presence of his bandmates was no help.

He couldn’t really stop feeling happy when surrounded by his secret lovers.

It was hidden pretty quickly after they figured out what kind of relationship they wanted, and it was hard. Of course it was. How could Roman resist for so long, when Virgil was so perfectly disheveled from giving it his all on his guitar? When Patton was giggling so happily that the crowd seemed to visibly grin back at him? When Logan looked so ready to start another song at any moment, but that didn’t stop the poorly hidden smirk that he had from pure pride in his drumming? Roman barely had enough willpower to kiss them all senseless, but they could do plenty of that backstage. Right now, they just had to be best friends for the crowd, and Roman had to stop himself from waxing poetry right there, in front of everybody.

“Thank you all for such a wonderful evening, you’ve been an amazing crowd!”

Roman was cut off again by their cheering, but he could never find it in himself to be angry at that.

“We have one more song for you, so let’s make it count!”

The excitement in the room was so contagious Roman couldn’t stop himself from laughing from the euphoric feeling of pure energy. He gave Logan a nod and a smile, and the other two shared a look before a familiar beat began, and the crowd cheered in recognition.

“If you know, why don’t you sing it with me!”

And Roman had the best performance of his life.

***

“Thank you, again. Are you sure you don’t need assistance in packing everything into the bus?”

Patton’s feet swang in the air as he sat on the edge of the stage, rocking left to right from the pure excitement of tonight’s performance. He watched Logan with a far-away look, his eyes really examining how beautiful he could look even after a 2-hour performance and 16-hour plane ride. It didn’t seem fair, but as long as he got to look at him, he supposed it was okay.

“I know, he looks so pretty.”

Patton jumped slightly, relaxing when he saw it was only Roman, giving him a dopey smile.

“He really is. Did you see that thing he did for track four? It was so cool, I didn’t expect it! Oh, oh, and then Virgil just played off of that and started adding a bunch of riffs, and don’t even get me started on that run you did, it just all worked so perfectly-!”

Patton could’ve ranted for hours on end about how perfect his lovers always seemed to perform, but he stopped to match Roman’s love-sick grin.

“Thank you, sunshine. You were...simply exquisite tonight! How you dare to have so much talent and beauty in you still astonishes me to this day.”

Of course, Patton had unlocked sappy Roman. He giggled as Roman started peppering his face with kisses, trying to mumble back as many compliments as possible for every one of Roman’s admirations. He didn’t even notice that they had a crowd until someone cleared their throat, and he turned to see a smirking Virgil, already shaking his head.

“Only half an hour and you’re already all over each other?”

He teasingly poked, sitting on the other side of Patton while the other two shared a smile.

“Can you blame me? How am I supposed to do another 49 2-hour performances without kissing my talented and beautiful boyfriends?”

“It’s called self-control, love.”

Logan remarked as he walked over, locking his phone after presumably shooting a text to their manager. His tie was usually pulled down before performances for comfort, more of a stylistic choice, but the first few buttons of his shirt were also unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled, comfortable for helping the crew pack up.

“How am I supposed to have ‘self-control’ when I’m faced with such temptation?”

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t stop Roman from pulling him in by his waist for a kiss. Logan’s hands came to wrap around his neck and they didn’t go far once separated, their hands intertwined as Logan joined their tiny circle.

“You did amazing tonight, Specs. I know you’ve been working on that for months.”

Virgil remarked, sending Logan a smile. Logan shrugged sheepishly as the other two showered him with similar affections. They had a habit of doing that, getting lost in their own little world that the only words they could understand were ‘I love you’.

It was a miracle they heard their manager at all.

“Great performance tonight, guys. The parking lot is practically buzzing with energy, y’all really didn’t hesitate for this first performance.”

The group shared smiles and ‘thank yous’ with their manager, before he pulled his usual serious face.

“I talked to the agency today-”

“And?”

Roman perked up immediately, not able to stop himself from his curiosity. They had proposed making their relationship public during the tour, talking about how excited their fans must be and how many people were already suspicious of them. Forcing them to be together for 2 whole hours without any displays of affection or words of love or looks of passion was pure torture, even if tonight was their first night. It just wasn’t fair. But from the resigned look that their manager gave them, they knew they had lost this fight again.

“-and...they’re thinking about it, really. They aren’t sponsoring this tour, but they...they threatened again. To end the contract if you didn’t ‘behave’, which would mean...an unforeseeable future after this tour. As much as I want you to be happy with one another and open about it, this could be your last tour if you’re not careful.”

The happy, underlying tones from the evening were starting to blur into the harsh reality of the business they were in. Of course, they knew they would face homophobes and backlash. Their sales may dip, their shows may not be fully packed, and, the most terrifying, in Roman’s opinion, they may not get re-signed with their label. Yes, Roman despised them with every fiber in his being, and he regretted convincing his boyfriends to make a band with him under that label everyday, but he couldn’t be completely mad when they helped pay his bills. The reality of the situation sucked, but it was honest. Their careers could be ruined by their relationship.

***

The squeak of his office chair and the soft noise of his bouncy ball hitting the ground every so often was the only noise heard within their hotel room. Roman had been trying to figure out a solution for their label issue that wouldn’t land in their careers being ruined, but so far, his mind had blanked the entire morning, not a single idea good enough to even be written down.

He had tried, really, he had, so hard last night to reassure his boyfriends that everything would turn out okay, that they’d be able to be proud of who they were while also doing what they love. And he had finally made progress, getting all three of them out of bed to get breakfast from a nearby cafe, and in that time, Roman had been able to find every single flaw in his argument. He had pinpointed the exact moment he lost hope in ever being truly happy, and now, his brain was just a down spiral of what-if’s and fears.

There was the underlying promise that they’d never be able to be public about their relationship without jeopardizing their entire careers, and even though Roman would lay everything down for his boyfriends, he had never seen them happier since they started performing.

It was kind of funny, how much they despised each other when they first met. Even Patton, who held so much love for them now that he almost felt like he was suffocating without showing it, had hated Roman’s guts, and Roman didn’t blame him. He was an arrogant, loud, cocky teenager with the perfect voice but the worst attitude. He sassed anybody and everybody that came to his competitions that he found at least a tiny bit threatening, and when he saw Logan, he knew instantly that they could never be friends.

Logan was a stuck-up, booksmart, angry nerd that never got along with Roman to begin with, but when he started playing the ever-predictable violin at a competition, Roman had practically led the crowd to booing him offstage.

The next week, when Virgil had mustered up enough courage to play piano at a competition, Roman was a little more generous at how nervous he seemed, but didn’t think twice about embarrassing him once he was off stage, mockingly babying him until he left.

Patton had showed up at the competition at the end of the month, and Roman had already seen how much fun he would have tormenting him. He was a too-nice-for-his-own-good kind of kid, with a smile that seemed too rehearsed, and Roman hated how well he was able to talk to the judges after singing a song. Singing was Roman’s thing, so he went all out for his performance, purposely using Patton’s performance as an example of what one shouldn’t do on stage.

Roman was an absolute bitch.

And he regretted it, he regretted it to this day, despite his boyfriends constant attempts to reassure him that they were just kids, they were just young stupid teens that were all terrified of what people thought of them. Because Roman didn’t mean to be rude, but that’s the only way he knew to survive, after years of being in the same toxic friend group. When Virgil had stumbled upon Roman’s friends, it all seemed to click, and he still held a certain degree of resentment against him for bullying him. But when he told Logan and Patton, who he had managed to befriend, he had never seen Patton switch so quickly.

He organized a day for them all to hang out, despite all of their protests, and even though Roman really didn’t want to at the time, he still showed up. They talked and talked, growing more and more comfortable with one another as the time passed. At some point, Logan had asked Roman for critiques, but genuine critiques. No comparing performances, no school-yard name calling, and no rude names. Just genuine notes that Roman thinks can genuinely improve their performances. Because, even though young Logan never would’ve admitted it, Roman knew how to win those competitions.

So Roman did. He gave them notes. He talked about how talented they were (probably for a little too long, but he won’t say admit that) and how they could improve a bit of stage performance. That meant different things to all of them, but one day, Roman invited them over to his house to hang out again. Because this time, he would prove it to them. Yes, they were talented. Just at different things.

So when Patton played the bass like he was born playing, when Logan was able to find the beat of a song after only two seconds, and when Virgil was able to find all the notes on a guitar in record time, Roman knew they had found their element. It wasn’t that they weren’t talented. It was that they were talented in different things.

Roman almost didn’t hear his boyfriends return until the hotel door clicked close, and he looked up. They all looked varying degrees of concern, but after coming straight out of a daydream, there was a flash of them when they were still just kids. Smiling, ignorant, hopeful kids. The ones he fell in love with.

“Ro? Are you okay?”

Patton approached him slowly, picking up a few of the crumpled up pieces of paper that Roman had thrown everywhere, throwing them away before placing his hands on Roman’s shoulders. Logan and Virgil joined shortly after, placing their breakfast on the table before Virgil sat on the floor next to Roman’s chair, holding his hand, and Logan stood in front of him, taking the other hand and placing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“Yeah….yeah I’m okay, now.”

Patton sighed out in relief, resting his forehead on Roman’s neck. Roman pulled on Logan’s hand until their foreheads were touching, and he squeezed Virgil’s hand. This is what he truly loved. Sure, the feeling of pure energy coursing through his body after a performance was wonderful. But just being here, existing with his loves, kissing them whenever he pleased and telling them, openly, about how much he loved them? That was a feeling that could never be replaced.

So screw the label, and the sales, and the homophobes, and all the people that’ll try to end his career. Roman was happy with his loves, and nothing could ever stop him from showing it.

“I...I have an idea for our performance tonight.”

***

Roman’s nerves were shot with pure adrenaline and he couldn’t believe this was real life. Standing on an entirely new stage in a different part of California, his hand on his mic, the cheering and pure excitement after completing their first song. It was like a drug to Roman, but the giddiness of what he was about to do next was partly to blame for his contagious smile and random giggling.

“Good evening, LA! How’re you doing tonight?”

Cheers and laughs were repeated back to him and Roman laughed out of sheer nervousness, his hands subtly shaking, but he was able to play it off.

“So tonight is actually a really special evening! You may not know why yet, but after this next song, you definitely will! It’s brand new, we’ve actually all been working on it for weeks, and we’re so excited to share it with you, called Still into You. So, this next song is dedicated to them.”

Excited squeals burst around Roman’s brain, and he smiled, nodding at the tech crew backstage. It was like a movie reel, a countdown from three and they started singing, their hands a bit jumpy from nerves but still perfectly combined to feel right. Pictures started flashing up on the screen behind them all, first of all of them as kids, getting to know each other all the way to high school. Pictures of a young Roman winning his first singing award, Logan and Patton’s first duet. Their first ever performance as a band was during a talent show, junior year. The crowd laughed and smiled at each photo, dancing along to the melodic singing of all of them together, but then came Roman’s favorite moment.

Logan’s drumming started to quiet down, and all you could hear within the room was their instruments humming out the heart of the song and Roman’s voice.

“I’m into you. Baby, not a day goes by that I’m not into you! I should be over all the butterflies-!”

And just like that, it all came back, Virgil and Patton joining him on harmonies. And the pictures changed, and suddenly there was some understanding. Because the first photo, after Roman’s high note, was all four of them. Holding one another. And another, of them kissing. And another, more affectionate, more domestic, more loving than the world had ever seen them. And cheers could be heard, of excitement, of passion, of understanding, as everybody finally got a peek into their last few years.

By the time they finished, the crowd was cheering louder than Roman even thought was possible. He was smiling, bigger than he ever had on stage, and he laughed out of the pure relief he felt of finally being able to say it. He loved them. He loved them with his entire being, and he wouldn’t ever try to hide it again. The crowd quieted only somewhat to let him speak, and when he did, he had to clear his throat to not tear up.

“The last four years of my life, I have never been so happy as I am with my boyfriends. And to say that they’re the loves of my life doesn’t even begin to cover how much I love them. Because I do. I fucking love them!”

The pure adrenaline coursing through their veins was reciprocated with so much support that all four of them couldn’t help but smile.

So no, Roman wasn’t worried about his career, or what he’d do at the end of the tour. What he cared about was that the entire world knew that he had found his soulmates. And he would never stop loving them.

#sandersides #sander sides #logan sanders #logansanders #virgil sanders #virgilsanders #roman sanders #romansanders #patton sanders #pattonsanders #lamp #LAMP

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cetaceans-pls · 4 years

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Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne

Summary:

Revolution and family both run on love and carbohydrates, and you can quote Jason on that.

Or, Jason swings by the Manor to find Alfred stress-cooking his heart out after a fight with Bruce, and over the course of making dumplings, the concept of caring by way of cooking becomes clear.

June got me feeling some kind of way about blatantly showing people you care about how much you care. We’re almost halfway through 2020, so keep on keeping on, and be charitable and kind as often as you possibly can.

Fic in Tumblr under the cut, and here’s my masterlist for more sweet sweet reads:

2020, right?

Jason’s not sure there’s anything left in his tank except for spite; it’s enough to get him out and about making sure that the GCPD watched their fucking step, but even spite is (surprisingly enough) not endless. That’s the hallmark of this most accursed of accursed years; prickly energy up-down his back that leaves him restless, and a complete inability to actually do any fucking thing about any fucking bit of it.

Times like these, there’s really just the one sure-fire way to re-find centre, and if it involves hacking into the family calendar to find just the right time when most everyone’s out of the house, well. There’s a reason Bruce never revoked his access, even if he’s got a second lifetime left to regret his pre-teen e-mail address ( ‘ [email protected] ’, where the w’s are of course for Wonder Woman, and the x’s are for Cool).

It’s a shitty hot June day, depression and distress are heavier in the air even than the choking humidity, and the Manor is quiet and cool in comparison. It’s tomb-like, yeah, but it’s not coffin-like and that makes all the difference. Jason comes in through the front door because he knows the house is mostly empty, and sheds layers as he goes. By the time he reaches the kitchen, he’s a full-grown man in ratty sweats and a sweat-damp undershirt, and Alfred looks up at him with endless warmth. “Why, Master Jason, if you had rung the bell I could have greeted you at the door.”

Jason looks both ways just in case, because this family is full up to the neck in people with horrific timing, before ducking down and pecking Alfred on the cheek; xxwwDangerBirdwwxx is not the only thing that stayed with him from childhood. “Heya, Alfie,” he says, already feeling 15 degrees better than he did outside. “I just let myself in, don’t sweat it. Am I interrupting something?”

He very clearly is. Alfred doesn’t have his coat on, and looks achingly domestic with his shirt sleeves neatly folded up and his soft fuzzy sweater-vest. His hands are a floury mess, kneading dough the size of two Dick-heads, but Alfred’s already moving away to wash his hands and put the kettle on. “Hey, no, you don’t have to, lemme just make my own-”

“Nonsense, Master Jason,” Alfred says, mild-mannered and a thousand times more menacing than Batman at his absolute worst. “It’s no trouble, there’s leftover roast beef from dinner yesterday, it won’t take a moment to make you a snack.”

And in less than said moment, Jason has tea-with-honey-and-milk, and a roast beef sandwich that smells like the dream ideal of every roast beef sandwich. He’s already eating before his brain can tell him to protest Alfred waiting on him, and the appreciative groan comes in right on queue, under a second after that first bite.

There is A Father, A Son, and A Holy Ghost, and they manifest all at once as an elderly British man with the finger strength of a mid-sized mountain gorilla. That dough is being beaten into absolute submission as Alfred gets back into the swing of things, and over the course of the consumption of a sandwich, it becomes a smooth, perfect lump that gets lovingly plopped into a bowl and covered with a damp tea cloth.

Alfred doesn’t ask Jason if there’s something wrong, or if he needs something. The clearest need is obviously the need to be home, and home Jason is, so whatever thing that next goes wrong had best be prepared to face Alfred and his selection of awful terrible knives that line the kitchen. He puts the bowl away on a shady spot on a windowsill and pulls out a mountain of onions instead, and gets to peeling.

Jason pulls out a switchblade from somewhere about his person, blitzes it with the hand sanitiser they’ve all been guilted into bringing with them at any and all times, and starts helping. His kitchen in his ratty apartment is where all the rats in the building like to hold Communion or something, so he’s long since given up having fresh produce around. Happily, vigilanteeism with a side of crime bossing keeps your knife skills sharp, and there’s something alarmingly freeing about peeling and chopping onions while unavoidable tears start up, in a sunny kitchen with your granddad.

“What’re we getting all these onions ready for, anyways?” Jason says, enjoying the excuse to have a stress cry. Alfred doesn’t suffer from waterworks, but that’s because he suffers from chronic dry eyes instead. It's a condition that persists despite every Robin in a long line of Robins buying every eye drop product on the market between them for him to try.

Crying's a funny ol’ thing in the Manor, and it’s also funny that Alfred’s probably seen the most tears despite being the man least capable of them.

“Everyone has been running ragged across the city recently, and I thought that dumplings might be quite a nice treat for dinner tonight. I assume you’ll be joining us, won’t you Master Jason?”

“Of course,” Jason says because there’s no point getting between Alfred and dinner participation. There’s a bigger issue at hand anyways; dumplings are delicious but also obnoxiously difficult to make in any quantity fit to feed Bats and Birds and their oversized appetites. Everybody in the household has a favourite type, but everybody in the household worries when they get their wish, because Alfred only ever makes dumplings for a full meal when he’s stress-cooking out of his mind.

The man can’t even stress-cry while cutting onions, for fuck’s sake.

It’s best to broach the topic with a soft touch, which sucks entire balls because it’s not exactly Jason’s specialty. “So, uh. What dumplings are we making today?”

“Only 3 types,” Alfred says with a hint of apology. “Xiaolongbao, because I wanted to finish up the last batch of stock I made and Master Dick does so enjoy soup dumplings. A side of cheese-and-spinach momos for Master Damian, who has mentioned missing Tibetan food. And seeing as how you’ll be joining us, as many gyoza as these old hands of mine are able to make, Master Jason.”

Okay, cool, so an infinity of endless, delicious potstickers then, all right. What a time to be alive, Jason thinks to himself. “Not making anything special for B, huh?”

The mood takes a turn for the spoilt, goes off faster than tipping a fistful of salt into a cup of milk. “Master Bruce will have whatever is available, and he will enjoy it,” Alfred says frostily, and chops the end off an onion with significantly more force than reasonable.

That’s the answer, then. Christ, what has Bruce done now? “Saw on the schedule that he’s got a board meeting for another couple of hours, Alfred, so you can lay it on me. What happened? Are you okay?”

Alfred looks at him at that, looks at him and smiles the smile he gets every year when he’s inundated with gifts on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day and the arbitrarily set Alfred’s Day (September 8th, as decided by Dick on a whim entire aeons ago), and Jason tries not to feel embarrassed because he’s a whole-ass adult but he doesn’t pretend he’s not pleased to have made the mood ease up. “I’m well, Master Jason, thank you for your concern. I’m afraid I can’t say the same for Master Bruce.” He sighs, and they fall into silence. B brings bad communication out of the best of men, what else is new.

The mound of onions done, Jason is assigned ginger and garlic and potatoes and more things fresh from the garden and greenhouse, while Alfred starts taking his frustration out on a mountain of meat.

Jason’s careful to keep their produce separate, as is Alfred; wouldn’t do to cross-contaminate meat into momos, after all. They work and they work and they work, until all the prep is done and all that’s left is the dough and the stuffing.

The duties get divided like this: Jason gets the cheese and the seasoned spinach to make vegetarian dumplings for Damian, and Alfred gets literally everything else. Despite this, though, Alfred’s sure fingers and devastating dexterity churn out beautifully-shaped dumplings at 4 times Jason’s top speed.

Jason’s got 8 done and Alfred’s putting an entire tray away when Alfred finally breaks their quiet and sighs, looking as old as he is (and isn’t that the most horrifying thing this horrifying year, hey). “Excuse my dour mood, Master Jason. I had an altercation with Master Bruce this morning, regarding his workload and his reluctance to delegate. It grew unfortunately heated, and I turned a blind eye to his extremely broken hand. I did not stop him from leaving the Manor for work." A little additional violence goes into the folding of the current gyoza, and Alfred's lips twist and turn down like a dumpling fold. "Decades I've spent looking after the man. It's alarming how he can still rile me up so."

Isn't that a Universal Truth. Alfred's Angry Gyoza still looks better than Jason's best go at a momo, which is also a Universal Truth. He just needs to try again, till he gets better. Alfred’s good at indirectly teaching patience, and directly practicing it himself, but everyone’s got a line and it’s not the first time somebody’s crossed this one. “It’s his special gift, swear to God. You know what they say, Alfie. Hell really is other people.” Oh, the pleats on this one are looking mighty fine. “Uh, just. How bad a break are we talking about here? What exactly did he do to piss you off this time?”

“He hasn’t had more than 2 hours of sleep a day since, oh, April, I believe. Master Bruce is trying to effect systemic change at both his day-time and night-time jobs, and he has been running on little more than righteous anger and painkillers for weeks. Master Tim has tried to talk him down, as have I, but yesterday he shattered his wrist in a fight with far too many pigs and I found him working down below when I woke up this morning with his hand wrapped up in duct tape.” Alfred sighs, and rubs at his forehead with the back of his hand. “Duct tape and batarangs for splints, Lord help me, because he didn’t want me to worry about the true extent of his injuries.”

And now Bruce is in his civvies with an unknown number of broken bones and a blood opium level that’s over 9000, trying to do good in a no-good world, and all Alfred can do is to become more dumpling machine than man to avoid the deep unpleasantness of it all.

Jason whistles. He thought he’d been having a bad time but at least Alfred was a surefire source of comfort. Alfred’s place to turn to until he’d walked in was just a lump of dough, shit. “Sounds about right for him. But Alfie, how ‘bout you? You’re the one co-ordinating the largest band of crime fighters outside the League, and you’re most of the reason why the man that does co-ordinate the League is even a little bit functioning.” Bruce is a whole entire adult man filled to the brows with idiocy, sure, but… “If everyone’s running ragged you’re gonna be running ragged-est, and if I thought that was the case, we-ell. Duct tape starts looking better and better.”

Alfred looks affronted and gently outraged. “I have been doing just fine, Master Jason. I am not the man running around in costume trying to punch unkindness out of his fellow man. I am just the butler, sitting at home making dumplings, while the master of the household is tripping across the financial district in screaming pain.” Uh oh, here comes another Angry Gyoza, perfectly-shaped and squeezed just a shade too hard.

Jason puts down a slightly-less-crappy momo on his tray, and reaches across the small kitchen table to catch Alfred by the wrist, gentle as anything. “Alfie, I’m saying this as someone who loves you so much I’d literally kill for you,” and boy Jason sure does mean literally, “but hard-headedness is a learned trait, and we got it from B and B got it from you. The man’s an idiot, sure, but sounds like he’s probably at least as worried ‘bout you as you are ‘bout him. Does that sound about right?”

Ah, he really does suck at this whole sweetly-softly thing, but it’s clear once you think to look. Alfred’s game face is in many ways more impenetrable even than a cowl and a mask, but there’re dark circles under his eyes, he’s sallow instead of just pale, and there’s an exhausted stoop to his back that’s usually hidden under a perfectly-tailored suit jacket. Jason’s seeing it now after weeks of work keeping him away from the Manor; if he’d been seeing Alfred like this every day for the past god-knows-how-long, self-care with tape would suddenly seem incredibly appealing.

Alfred looks at his hand, Jason looks at Alfred, and they’re both quiet for a while. Jason thinks he should let go, but he also can’t help but feel that if he does, Alfred’s going to go back to being ‘just the butler’, and that’s not right, not right at all.

In the end, Alfred makes the first move, pulling away just so that he can pat the back of Jason’s hand. “It’s always a pleasant surprise to see how you have grown into such a fine young man,” he says absently, devastatingly. “Especially given the role models you were saddled with. Master Bruce…. may have brought up that I was working more than I should, though he did not come up with a viable alternative.” Alfred rolls his eyes, a rarity in public view. “He tried to give me a curfew; off the comms by midnight, Alfred, that’s the rule.”

They both snort at that. No one’s respected curfew in any format at any age in this household, and it’s almost sweet how Bruce nevertheless keeps trying it on child, adult, and parent alike.

“Nevertheless,” Alfred continues, hand still on Jason’s, “it’s a fair point to say that my and Master Bruce’s worrying over each has grown somewhat out of control, and changes need to be made. It… would help to have another pair of hands at the Manor.”

Oh, no. Alfred’s about-turn raises Jason’s suspicions, but it’s too late for him to do anything about it.

“Oh,” Alfred says with an exaggerated sigh, a smile hiding in plain sight, “it would do my old heart good if Master Bruce were to have more assistance during his night-time escapades. And if someone were available to help me cut onions and dice garlic, that would help too.”

Jason’s already fucking sunk, because he’s learned how to say ‘no’ to many things and 'fuck off' to a few more, but he’s never learned how to turn down an Alfred who works harder than most anyone to never ask for more than what his family can give.

He groans, completely trapped. “I’m a grown adult and I’m not moving back home with my family, Alfie, c’mon.”

Alfred pats him again, and goes back to making Jason’s favourite dumplings. “Of course, Master Jason, but that’s no reason why you couldn’t have dinner at home more often. Besides, who will badger and bully Master Bruce into being a more reasonable man if not for you?”

That’s a reasonable ask, because post-resurrection Jason has carved out time in his busy schedule to constantly prod and poke Bruce into being less of an asshole. And if Jason’s willing to go on a murderous rampage at Alfred’s behest, coming by more often to work together and help out isn’t much of an ask at all.

“Stop it, you already know I’m gonna say yes,” Jason grumbles, moving back to his task. “Alfie, you’re the absolute worst manipulator in the entire house, and this house is full of bastards.”

Alfred just laughs quietly, seeming more at ease and at peace than he was at the start. "I'm afraid, sir, I'll have to respectfully disagree. Hell may be other people, but this family, I think, is about as good as it gets."

And really, what's a good comeback to that?

Jason's setting the kitchen table for dinner while Alfred handles the steamer baskets and griddle with tremendous aplomb when the door creeps open timidly. That has Jason immediately on high alert, because nobody in the Manor does anything timidly.

It's Bruce, looking how he looks when he's about to go 3 rounds with the Joker while Killer Croc's nipping at one heel and the Penguin’s gnawing on the other. His right hand is wrapped in a blue cast, strapped to his front in a utilitarian white sling, and his left arm is weighed down with a grocery bag filled to bursting with what looks to be a guilty gift of assorted snacks and baked goods.

(Alfred is a nightmare to shop for; anything from a pet rock to a chef’s knife made of Damascus steel and beaten gold would be received with the same expression of fond long-suffering. Literally the finest analytical minds in the country still don't know if he's a Coke or a Dr. Pepper man, urgh.)

“Hello, Jason,” Bruce greets him, but his eyes are stuck fast on Alfred, calculating and hesitant.

“Hey, B,” Jason calls back, and takes the time to enjoy the sight of the big bad Batman mousily scurrying into the kitchen as he tries to gauge Alfred’s mood. “Went shopping, huh?”

“Just a few things.” Bruce carefully puts the bag on the kitchen counter and stops there, glancing at Alfred’s back warily. “It’s good to see you.”

Where Jason’s stood he can make out Alfred’s extremely indulgent smile, and it’s pretty clear he’s dragging the moment out to let Bruce stew a little. It’s a pretty worthwhile activity, so Jason just goes along with it, even though he can see Bruce tensing up as he sees the endless platters of dumplings and immediately Understands what sort of day Alfred’s been having. “Same, I guess. Your hand okay?”

That perks B right up. In a slightly too-loud voice, like he wants to make sure Alfred hears him, he says, “Could be worse. Leslie had me fixed up, and she’s putting me on strict rest for a week.” Another cautious peek at the stern line of Alfred’s back. “Doctor’s orders, and I have some investigative work to catch up with anyways, so Dick is stepping in for me for a few days.”

Christ, the peace offering couldn’t be made any more blatant if Bruce had come complete with a fruit basket and a Hallmark card of a sad-looking lamb. Jason almost wants to laugh, but he’s starting to feel a bit bad about the surreptitious glances, the uncertain line of the lip. Everyone’s been there, right? Done something a bit dumb and hurt somebody important, unwilling or unable to apologise, and when you try to make up for it it’s just butterflies-in-stomach and cheek-chewing until the other person gives a clear sign that it’s okay, it’s okay, Jaybird, I’m not upset about the car, I’m just glad you’re safe -

Nostalgia’s heavier in the air than the smell of fresh-fried potstickers. Lucky, though, that kindness is probably something you pick up from your parents too, because by the time Jason comes back to the moment Alfred’s already turned to face Bruce, an ice pack in hand. “I am delighted to hear it, sir,” Alfred tells him stiffly, but is gentle as anything as he leads Bruce to a kitchen chair and helps him ice his swollen hand.

The relief that takes over Bruce’s entire face when Alfred finally talks to him is eye-watering in its vulnerability, and the way he melts into the chair under the slightest bit of fussing is, honestly, equal parts sweet and sad.

Alfred must be similarly moved, because he procures a cushion out of thin air for Bruce to rest his arm on so that he can be free of the sling, and takes a moment to just stand there and brush dark hair away from a worn-out face. Bruce is out of it enough that he’s got his eyes closed and he’s just enjoying the careful touch, and Jason wants to scream a little, because how was Alfred surprised he grew up into an okay kind of guy when this was the standard the household set?

“Good man,” Alfred says, and maybe it’s in response to following Dr. Thompkins orders, but it’s pretty hard to misread that really, he just means 'good' in every way a man can be good when he looks at a half-asleep Bruce like that. “I’ll put the kettle on, and you can nibble on some pierogies while we wait for the family to gather, Master Bruce.”

That wakes Bruce right back up. “Are they-”

“Filled with cheese and potatoes, sir, of course. Why would I make anything but your favourite?” Alfred sniffs like he’s offended, but he’s still smiling as he pats Bruce on the shoulder before heading back to counter and Bruce’s bag of apologroceries.

He fishes out a beautiful red-and-white bakery box, and looks legitimately impressed. “Oh, my, Master Bruce. How did you find Bakewell tarts in Gotham? I haven’t had any in years, and I must confess to being partial to them.”

“Cross-referenced the ingredients of every perishable snack item available in the UK against the fresh produce that you buy often enough to be a statistically significant indicator of preference,” Bruce says around a yawn, like he’s not being absolutely insane right now. “Sorted it into an alphabetized list and sourced them from across the tri-state area. Letters A through to J are in that bag, but-,” another yawn, like Alfred and pierogies are the only thing keeping him going, “-but I’m glad I found you something you liked, Alfred.”

Jason just sits there, committing to memory that Alfie likes whatever the hell a Bakewell is, that he also somehow managed to make an entire dumpling series without Jason noticing, that Bruce fuckin’ Wayne’s favourite dump has cheesy mash stuffing, and that this is how to show care and affection when words are damn hard to get out. He sighs, because he has to fucking sigh, because now he’s so goddamn stricken over how love is inherent in groceries, and it’s so embarrassing how he absolutely, 100% would obliterate a nation in the name of the two men in this quiet little kitchen in the cursed year of our Lord, 2020.

When Alfred does return from the stove bearing a plate of piping hot pierogies for Bruce and gyoza for Jason, he feels OP enough to rip into the throat of the cruelty inherent in this world with his bare fucking teeth, and right after dinner, he really fucking will.

(Revolution and family both run love and carbohydrates, and you can quote him on that).

a/n: i don’t legitimately think anybody reads fic on tumblr bc i definitely loathe doing it so i mostly just write this to 1. soundboard myself and 2. wish that you’re doing okay just in case you did make it here. what a year of agonies, but the hope is that it’ll be 2021 and when you look back you think, oh, those were growing pains, and the world is tangibly better for having weathered it.

that’s the hope.

#batman #jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jay & alfie #alfie & b #batfam #spoilers: this is just several thousand words of me thinking about what it means to look out for someone you care about #god cannot believe i went down the bathole and it's not the tech or the detectiving or the fighting that got me #it's just me consistently crying over the concept of familial bonds

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep 11: Rafael’s Lian Yu Experience

Ah, lets tune into Yugioh where Duke has decided to do some off-roading in the worst car and in the worst place.

Ah yes, the normal interaction you would have with a desert and your expensive vintage car. Duke has been struggling since he became a protagonist to stick to a defining trope. Now that Serenity is gone, and now that they aren’t watching a duel for Duke to be a downer about, I guess his only other tick is that he sucks at driving?

Again there was a perfectly serviceable truck back at the RV but they just really like to put miles on this car (which doesn’t have it’s lights on I believe, which...good job, Duke).

And he just launches these two inexplicably out of the car. Because Yugi might be losing his whole damn soul on the other end of this desert, but we will have cartoon shenanigans, damn it.

It really does look like Dukes looking through the wrong side of his binoculars here...that extra level of Duke.

Speaking of extra level, hows that horse thing going? Where Yugi is riding a horse for the first time in his entire life?

Because, apparently the show has decided that Yami should be really good at horses (????????). He can’t read any Egyptian, he doesn’t have any memories of his Pharaoh life, he can barely use magic, but apparently, he can game a horse. Only problem, is that this art team of high octane vehicle enthusiasts seems totally unaware of how horses work---I’ll just show you. This scene GOES places, and I will absolutely record it so you can watch it in it’s entirety in a separate post.

(see more horse under the cut)

The horses leg didn’t move the entire slide down the mountain y’all, he just stuck one hoof in front of him and power-slid down a freakin cliff like he was wearing horse Wheelies.

What the Hell?

Anyway, welcome to our new dueling platform.

You wouldn’t believe it, but it’s on a very tall thing. I know, in this show? They’re dueling on a tall thing? Whaaaaat?

This is a hilariously weirdly perfectly cylindrical land mass 10/10.

So Rafael’s whole deal is so freakin weird.

Rafael’s a weirdo. I was ready for Alister, since Alister introduced himself in a Maximilian Pegasus suit, but I just wasn’t expecting Rafael to be the weirdEST youknow? Of the three? Like he’s up there with Arcana and the band-saw ankle-slicing machine. Just a really choice human being who makes really good decisions.

God bless this artist’s obsession with edgy cargoes.

Anyways, another fun fact about Rafael is he gets more and more jacked with every single frame it feels--his muscles are like the quality to go fight Cell, but all he does is play cards.

Also he’s obsessed with justifying mass murder on a global scale so...he seems a little bit like an X-men villain in that way, except he’s...just a normal ass dude who got really buffed.

Rafael needs a reason to want to destroy all humanity--that’s really the big dilemma that the writing crew was given, but the way they got there...was a lot.

Lets dive right into it, starts off kind of normal, run of the mill “gotta cleanse the world yada yada” and then just starts somersaulting down a steep hill like in Princess Bride.

First of all, the show decides to reveal to us the entire story via a Rebecca google search, and then, once we’re like WTF? we get to hear it in it’s entirety and it is way weirder the second time.

So um...this Titanic cruise ship.

Yeah. I know. That’s a lot of Princess Peach dresses.

(welcome back, glass of OJ that every child on this show drinks with every meal)

Honestly there is no greater curse in this show than being rich. If you’re a rich dude you are SCREWED. Some force of nature is going to come for you just at any possible moment. You will get abducted....MANY TIMES. You will lose your parents, repeatedly. Your wife will die shortly after marriage. Some asshole will walk up and just remove your eyeball and replace it with a magic golf ball. You will never be the best at cards. Just never be rich in the Yugioh universe. It is better to be dead.

Speaking, of dead--just did a Rebecca-brand google search--do you know how many people fit on an average cruise liner?

It’s more than you think.

Woooooooooooooooooooooo that’s about 3000 people! Just nonchalantly! (and yo, I went mid-range, some cruise liners carry like 6000)

We passed so many 69′s just now!

Now there is some weird issues with this episode where Rebecca was like “The only survivor was Rafael” and then later, Rafael mentions his family is still alive--kinda sounds like the translation shenanigans are back at it, where the English version is desperately trying to keep people from dying, but like, the Japanese version drew a 600 ft tidal wave that ate up this cruise-liner like it was a bathtub toy made of paper.

But sure, maybe some escape boats made it out safely from a catastrophe that is 800 times worse than the Titanic. Sure they did.

PS History Channel got into a weird trend in the 00′s where they used to do these series of rogue wave horror stories--do you remember those? Anyways, one of my friends got super spooked by rogue waves and had it as one of her top ten fears. At the time I was like “lol you’re not gonna get rogue waved on a cruise are you kidding?” But then again, maybe she watched Yugioh and this episode scarred her for life?

Especially since this crazy traumatic experience was followed by three years of being stranded on an island and going COMPLETELY insane. Like not just...partial--Rafeal has absolutely no grip on reality anymore. Like, at all. He’s on another plane from most other Yugioh villains.

It’s like Lord of the Flies but there’s only one person in it. The Lord of the Fly.

This is a kid’s show.

Anyways, on the island, Rafael got hella jacked. So there was that one plus. He did eventually become a very huge person in his adulthood, although he did get a Mokuba haircut for a little while. This honestly says more about Mokuba’s hair routine than anything else.

He also spent some time seeing his lost family members as these three cards that he likes to pray to. Occasionally they fall into the ocean and he has to dry them off. Rafael lived a kind of boring weird life cycling between hallucinations and staring into the ocean.

The show didn’t bother to tell us what Rafael was eating or explain how that outfit lasted 3 years. But, they did describe that after 3 ENTIRE YEARS, Darts decided to just start harassing him.

Which...OK...and then there was this next sequence

I mean this was the only interaction that Rafael had in three years so maybe he forgot that getting drowned by people who harness the power of the ocean isn’t like...good behavior?

Anyways, back in the real world, in the city and wearing his hot topic grunge vest well into his early 30′s, Rafael decided that everyone just...deserves to die. Traffic sucks. Cities sucks. There’s too much crime. Everyone should be dead. It was very strange and sudden twist. You go from having all the money in the world, to no money, and then back to all the money and it’s like “Central heating SUCKS! KILL EVERYONE!”

Then Rafael made this mention of his family that has to be a translation thing.

Those guys have got to be dead. I mean this is Yugioh. There were no survivors. I’ll be very surprised if they pop up next episode, I’ll even dock them off the Death Count if they never died, I am that certain they won’t still be dead in this upcoming arc. They have clearly been replaced with paper cards. Like I wouldn’t be surprised if their souls were somehow inside these particular cards he carries.

I didn’t cap it, but to walk on the island you walk across a glowing oricalchos bridge and it was very goofy.

And then these guys showed up, reminding me again that they are still on this show, because tbh, I completely forgot.

I kinda miss when they were the weirdest people here and I just thought Rafael was another boring guy in handlebar muttonchops.

Anyway, it’s a short update today. I’m a little behind on things in other places, so that’s fine by me. I keep hoping that soon I’ll be back to doing like 2 of these a week. Especially since I recently decided to start blocking twitter and other places I’ve been wasting a little too much time on, maybe then it’ll funnel my efforts to here? We’ll see. Next episode we’ll find out how long all of these guys wearing jackets in the desert are faring.

And here’s a link to read these from the beginning.

#yugioh #yu gi oh #photo recap #episode recap #yugi muto #raphael #rex and weevil #tea gardner #rebecca hawkins #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #duke devlin #how to completely destroy your expensive car #S4 #Ep11

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f-da-program · 5 years

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Contains IT Chapter 2 Spoilers

So I just got to see Chapter 2 and I have a lot of thoughts that I need to get out, good and bad.

Con 1: Bill’s entire story line: I didn’t really care for Bill’s story line at all. Pretty much the first moment we have with him is him and Audra having a tiff. Unlike the book, you don’t get the sense that they have a strong relationship. The line he gave about being the girl he wants her to be comes to mind. And I kind of figured they were using that to say he wanted her to be more like Beverly, but we don’t even really get that. I’m not a huge Bill/Bev shipper so I’m not super bummed about it, but we never really get anything with that. Bev kisses Bill once and then we never really get anything from Bill’s side again. And it’s just strange because they seemed to hint that was going to be a thing, but it never was. In fact Bill never brings anything up to Bev and she and Ben ride off together into the sunrise. Perfectly fine, but awkward. It would have made more sense to have Bill’s relationship with Audra just seem like a happy one and have Bill push her away (fuck book canon there, there isn’t time to get into the ‘we’re just doing it because we’re going back to childhood’ and if you don’t have time for that or to explore Bills feelings for Bev more, then we don’t have time for Bill to cheat on his wife).

I’m also not into the idea that Bill wasn’t sick the day Georgie died. It’s unneeded. He doesn’t need that to feel guilty. Honestly, why do they have to push the guilt that hard anyway? Can’t he just be sad and angry his little brother was murdered? Why do we need a new guilt arc that was never brought up in the first movie or in the book?

Also, was the scene with the little kid in the fun house necessary? We get it, Bill feels guilty he didn’t save Georgie. And now he can’t save this kid. Oh no. Like, I didn’t need another scene to reinforce that Bill is guilty. It was already apparent. All this did was waste screen time that could have been used for more important scenes.

Pro 1: Ben is amazing I love Ben. He was totally the mom friend in this movie and I was digging it. Him checking in on everyone was nice. I feel like he got a good amount of screen time and his scenes were justified in being included in this packed movie. I’m so glad we got Ben the architect!

Pro 2: The Clubhouse I didn’t think we’d ever see the clubhouse or the Barrens outside of the Quarry. It’s a little shoehorned in, but I love that location so I’m going to call it a pro. Although, can we talk about how the book 5x5 clubhouse got a major upgrade? Like, holy shit, that place was huge!

Pro 3: Ben kept the yearbook page Look, I’m a sucker for the idea that Ben kept the yearbook page with Bev’s name. For one, how fucking cute is it that it’s been 27 years and he has no fucking idea who Beverly Marsh is, but he still keeps it?

But, it’s also a double edged sword. Because how lonely must he be that he keeps that? Like, he keeps this reminder that there was a time that someone would write hearts by their name in relation to him. That’s so indicative of Ben’s character. It shows how even as a successful man, he still feels all alone. Very nice.

Con 2: Dirt doesn’t equal germs I wish I could scream this from a rooftop. This pissed me off last movie and it pissed me off this movie. So let me say it again:

DIRT DOESN’T EQUAL GERMS.

The movies have not done enough to separate Eddie’s fears from Stan’s. Stan doesn’t like things that are unclean. Eddie doesn’t like things that can make you sick. Those are two different things. Eddie can reach for a ball on the dirty ground. Because cobwebs and dirt don’t cause diseases.

Con 3: Everyone is mad at Mike Seriously? The losers come back to Derry because they all made a promise, and they’re mad at Mike? Like, y’all made the promise. What was Mike supposed to say on the phone, ‘Hey, the killer clown we fought as kids is back, are you still in to come back and kill it?’ It just doesn’t make sense to have them all pissed at him.

Pro 4: The Ritual of Chud I never would have thought they would include that. It seemed too complex and out there (outing Pennywise as a million of years old cosmic being, that’s a whole different level). But they did! And I liked the idea that Mike found that out in his research. Sucks he shared it with Bill and not Richie, but I wasn’t made about it. It was a cool way to include it and give Mike some more screen time.

Con 4: Mike lied to everyone Wait, what? I don’t understand why anyone thought this was necessary. Mike said he needed everyone to believe they could kill It. Okay, that checks out. But they literally already know they can hurt It. They did it in the last movie by believing they could. So why do they suddenly need a fake ritual to do it? I like the idea of Mike getting the vision of Pennywise’s origin but I wish it had stopped there. The losers didn’t need that to know they could take It down.

Like, Mike needed more screen time, but not like that.

Pro 5: Richie loves Eddie If you didn’t think this would be on the list, you don’t know me. I think it’s awesome that they went this direction. I’ve always thought there was enough evidence to argue that Richie was bi and had a thing for Eddie. Getting to see that on the screen was great. And I loved the use of the Paul Bunyan statue. Because first movie they’re sitting by that statue when they ask Richie what he’s afraid of. Whether he’s really afraid of clowns or not, we now know he’s also afraid of people knowing he’s gay. When Pennywise attacks him there later, it’s relevant because that’s where he lied to the losers.

Eddie’s death and onward is handled really well. Richie having to be dragged out of the sewers and crying in the Quarry is so sad. But him re-carving over their initials is beautiful. He’s finally able to be okay loving Eddie. And even though Eddie’s gone, that’s still a powerful thing.

But...

Con 5: Eddie’s feelings weren’t clear Look, I read the book, Eddie’s gay. Like, if you argued that in the book Richie was straight, you would have had a leg to stand on. But with Eddie, you really wouldn’t. He was so clearly intended to be a gay character (Stephen, just say it next time).

But here we have a movie that doesn’t spend any time on confirming that, let alone confirming that he shared Richie’s feelings. Like, come on! It would have been so easy to show!

Here’s how I would have done it. First, scrap all the freezing bullshit (that’s the next con, don’t worry) and have them talk when they’re about to go down the hole to face Pennywise. Richie: Are you ready for this? Eddie: No, I’m scared shitless. But I keep trying to remind myself that I have nothing to lose. Richie: What the fuck does that mean? Eddie: I hate my life. I hate my wife. I might as well have married my mother. I don’t like my job. I wanted to do something with cars. And remembering all of this shit has just made it more obvious that I don’t to be who I was. I don’t want to go back to that. Richie: No one says you have to. Eddie: Where else would I go? Richie: I have a spare bedroom. Eddie: Like you could put up with me full time. Richie: I always did. Eddie (realizing Richie means it): ...I’ll think about it. And then the sewer fight happens, Eddie saves Richie because why the fuck wouldn’t he. And their last conversation goes like this: Eddie: Rich, *grabs Richies arm* I thought about it. Richie: About what? Leaving with me? Eddie: I want to. I’ve always- Pennywise starts attacking so he doesn’t finish.

And that shows that the feelings aren’t one sided and adds some angst for when Richie comes back over and he’s dead (or he could just not leave his side, whichever).

Con 6: Eddie freezes There’s no shame in freezing in terrifying situations. It’s natural. Fight, flight, freeze. Those are the options when scared.

But Eddie has literally never frozen in the past. Eddie never froze in the first movie. He didn’t freeze when Bowers attacked him. But you want me to believe that suddenly at the last leg of the movie he’s going to start? And for what? So it’d be dramatic when he stepped in the save Richie? That’s just who Eddie is. He’s always moving and acting and talking. It just made no sense to suddenly introduce this flaw that has arguably no pay off. Cut it and use the time for something important.

Con 7: Stan’s fears are never clearly explored It’s so easy to write Stan off as just being weak and scared. Even with the letter, it’s so easy. Because the 1st movie took away the scenes where he was brave (being the one to make them promise and being the one to say they needed to clean Bev’s bathroom).

But Stan’s issue isn’t just being scared, it’s being unable to accept things that aren’t logical. Pennywise existing offends him as a child. As an adult it very likely would have made him lose his mind. And this movie did better at touching that, but didn’t quite get there. They accept that he’s the most scared, but they don’t get down to why.

Pro 6: The losers grieve for Stan I don’t think the book even does as good a job at this. Stan was their friend. Part of the lucky 7 that made them powerful. Him being dead should feel like part of them is ripped out. They aren’t whole anymore. Having a scene where they mourned him was so important and I’m so glad they included it.

Pro 7: The ending This one is controversial, but I liked the ending change. It never made sense to me that after purifying Derry they forgot everything. Pennywise and the Turtle are dead, so who’s there to make them forget? In some ways I think remembering might be sadder (Richie gets to accept being gay just in time to watch the guy he loves die), but I think it makes more sense. I also think the losers being able to call each other and be lifelong friends is a good change. I don’t know if I’d call it the happy ending the movie implied that it was (it’s a small change Stephen, don’t pat your back too hard. It’s not like Eddie got to live), but I do think I prefer it.

And Stan’s letter really worked for me despite the flaws (Stan took the time to write this letter and then kill himself? Also, Patty saw this letter, I assume with the losers club’s names and decided to send it out? She wasn’t pissed that Stan killed himself for these people? She didn’t want any answers from them about what the fuck her husband was talking about?). It was needed to give Stan’s character some kind of redemption for how weak they made him out to be.

Pro 8: Eddie stabbed Henry with a knife he pulled out of his face Look, there’s not a lot to say about it, it was just cool. The whole scene was hilarious and Eddie Kaspbrack is a badass.

Pro 9: Pennywise is scary as shit I thought the first movie was a little heavy handed with CGI and didn’t give us enough horror movie makeup. And there was plenty of CGI here, but it felt more balanced with how much we saw of Pennywise. Honestly, Pennywise is so scary on his own, he can carry the movie. Things like the leper just look kind of fake. But Bill Skarsgard delivers.

I think that’s it!

I know there‘s stuff I left out, but I think I got the big ones. I feel bad I didn’t mention Beverly much, but her story line this time around was mostly centered around Ben. Which I could consider a flaw, but given the amount of time in the movie and how much focus she got last movie, I’m not mad about it.

#it spoilers #It Chapter 2 #It 2 #losers club #It #bill denbrough #ben hascom #beverly marsh #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #mike hanlon

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

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A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 15

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

Word count: 3.5k

Part 14 <<< >>> Part 16

MASTERLIST

“Kid,” Tony started, having had enough to watching Peter manhandle his lab material. “I’m gonna have to ask you to take a break.”

Peter, who had been hunched over his desk in the workshop, intently focused on his work and barely registering what was happening around him, hadn’t heard Tony come in. He dropped his tools and rolled back in his chair, using the heel of his hand to brush some strands of hair out of his face.

“What’s up Mr. Stark?” he asked, already alert. “Is there a mission?”

Tony winced a little and put his hands in his pockets, kicking an imaginary ball with his right foot. Peter sounded too eager for his next big mission. He noticed how he spent increasingly more time at the tower, even though the Christmas holidays weren’t over, instead of seeing his friends.

“No, Peter. There’s no mission. I just think you’ve been clocking in too often these days. I’d even go as far as to say you come here to avoid doing something else.”

Peter stared at him, blinked once. Twice. Then he tried to smile – the result was stiff and awkward.

“I don’t know what you mean. I only wanted to get this done before classes start again, I’m working on th-“

“I know what you’re working on, Peter,” Tony cut him off, taking the last few steps separating them and grabbing the little device from Peter’s desk. “I also know it’s been done for a few days now, because I crash tested it this week-end.”

Peter’s jaw clenched.

“It needs improv-“

“Will you quit arguing with me and just tell me what’s on your mine?” Tony sighed, sitting on the desk. He could tell Peter was at a hair’s width away from just rolling away on his desk chair and right into the open doors of the elevator to escape this conversation. “I can recognize the look in your eyes, I’ve had it myself. Trust me when I say that burying yourself under work doesn’t help. Now tell me, what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Wrong answer. You’re a terrible liar, by the way, in case I’ve never told you.”

“Nothing of your concern,” Peter tried again. It wasn’t like him to be so disrespectful towards a figure of authority, especially someone he admired as much as he did Mr. Stark, or anyone else for that matter. He was mad at himself and shouldn’t take it out on other people. “I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but apologize. “I swear it’s nothing. It’s not important.”

His voice dwindled towards the end, and he looked away, leaning into his chair and realizing he had been in a defensive stance all day, and now he faced Mr. Stark sitting straight as an ‘I’, shoulders tense. No wonder he had noticed something was amiss.

“Maybe not in the grand scheme of things, but it’s obviously important to you. Are you going to tell me or do I need to guess?”

In typical stubborn man whose pride had been wounded fashion, Peter refused to look up or answer, simply grinding his teeth and willing his mentor to leave him brood in peace while taking his frustration out on his work.

“Would a certain Miss Gerard be at the heart of your problem, by any chance?” Tony ventured, pursing his lips in wait of an answer. Peter remained quiet, but something must have given him away because Tony chuckled to himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen her here in a few weeks, she used to drop by regularly after that first day you brought her here. Lovers’ quarrel?”

“You got the quarrel part right,” Peter grumbled, sucking in his cheeks. He hated that they were having this conversation. “After the shooting on Christmas’ Eve.”

“Ah. Was she mad because she thought you left her there?”

“No.” Peter groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. This was such a massive pile of steaming shit of a situation. He got himself all tangled in a web of lies – pun intended – and he hadn’t risen to the occasion to come clean when he still could. Now it was too late – she knew everything and felt betrayed, used and cheated, and she was right to feel that way. “It’s more delicate than that.”

“Do you need a woman’s opinion? ‘cause I can call Pepper if you want…“ Tony suggested, not finishing his sentence but pointing towards the elevator.

“God, no, don’t do that,” Peter pleaded, recovering some of his usual shyness and blushing at the sheer thought of having this conversation with anyone else than Tony. It was bad enough as it is. “She…” Peter licked his lips, suddenly apprehensive of Tony’s reaction. Surely, he wasn’t going to leap in joy upon hearing one more person knew Peter’s secret. Oh well, here goes nothing. “She knows, Mr. Stark.”

Not the most self-explanatory sentence, but the graveness of his tone must have been enough to understand what exactly he was talking about. Tony’s face fell a little and he sat down on the nearest chair, his mood getting serious too.

“I see.” There was a pregnant pause before he looked at Peter again. “Did you tell her?”

“No, her dog gave me away.” He looked down in shame, staring at his worn-out Converses, taking a mental note to buy a new pair one of these days.

“I’m sorry, did you just say her dog gave you away?” Tony repeated in astonishment.

“It’s a long story,” Peter simply answered. He had no desire to tell the whole story now. “I should have told her myself.”

“So it’s that serious, ugh? I take it she didn’t react very well at the news?” Tony hummed. “It’s too bad, I liked her. She’s bold and passionate. You two worked well together.”

Yeah… Peter thought, disgruntled. We did work well together… Ever since the events that brought them apart, he tried not to dwell too much on the moments they had shared. The light finger brushes, the lingering stares, the bright smiles and the easy-going companionship. Fuck, he missed her so much. Why didn’t he just tell her? Why couldn’t he keep away from her as Spider-Man? He went wrong in so many places.

“Hey, kid,” Tony called Peter when he realized he had been zoning out and wasn’t listening to a single thing he said. Peter shook his head and met Tony’s eyes. “Don’t give up just yet. It’s not the end of the world, there’s hope.”

Easy to say, not so easy to do. Peter had kept in mind what May had told him the night Emmeline stormed out of his apartment, asking him not to contact her again. He was waiting very patiently for her to process the news and come around. Every day he woke up and checked his phone, and upon seeing the lack of messages from her, he became mad at the small device and almost threw it out the window on several occasions.

All this misplaced anger. He should direct it towards himself, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t just go out looking for a fight with some thugs, he was too strong for them. And it wasn’t like any of the Avengers still in residence would agree to beat the shit out of him during a sparring session if he asked.

A day before New Year’s Eve, Peter had called Ned and told him he had fucked up really bad, hoping that talking about I would make him feel better in some way, shape, or form, but it didn’t work in the least. If anything, Peter left worse than before. He had slept through the change of year: he had told May he was meeting with friends and went directly to the tower, where he knew he could spend the night without hearing a single firework or any other noise from the outside world.

Today, it was a week later, and while Tony had lasted remarkably long in staying out of Peter’s business, he had had to ask what was wrong. Peter knew it would come; he knew he spent way too much time at the tower for it to not look suspicious.

And tonight, he went to her apartment. He didn’t venture on her balcony, out of respect for her wish not to see him again, but he sat on top of a nearby building that gave him a direct view of the balcony he had spent so many nights on.

Every other apartment of the building was lit up and he could see people having dinner, watching TV, and whatnot. Emmeline’s was plunged in the dark and he couldn’t see a thing. He didn’t like the feeling of dread that overcame him when he realized she probably wasn’t home. Did she go away because she knew he wouldn’t be able to keep away from her?

All this angst was messing with his sleeping schedule. He went back to his dorm because he didn’t want to worry May, and his low moods even rubbed off on Tessa now.

The days were slow and the weeks long until classes began again. Peter had been waiting for the day he would see Emmeline again. He feared it too, because he hadn’t heard back from her since Christmas and he was worried that she didn’t find it in herself to look past his deception.

Was she going to sit next to him in class today? Or was she going to go back to her seat at the back of the room? Had enough time passed since their argument?

To say that Peter was distraught to notice her absence was the understatement of the century. His heart dropped and he barely listened to the teacher. At the end of the day, he felt a hundred years older than when we woke up in the morning. Ned had joined him for dinner at his dorm cafeteria in an attempt to cheer him up, and Tessa was there too, sitting under the table, her head resting on Peter’s thighs – it was her go-to position these days, her way to try to lift his mood.

Peter knew they were trying to make him feel better, but he simply didn’t have the energy right now, and he played with his food until it became cold, barely paying attention to what was around him. Tessa even grew tired of seeing him mopping around and walked away. He only looked up from his untouched plate when Ned elbowed him so hard, he dropped his fork.

“What is it, Ned? I’m not in the mood.”

“Dude!” Ned whispered, nodding towards something behind Peter’s back.

When he turned around and saw Emmeline a few steps away. She was crouched down, smiling brightly at Tessa and scratching her ears, giving her pats her kisses. His heart soared at the sight, then dropped again.

She finally stood up, knocking the air out of Peter’s lungs with a mere look. He stopped breathing, half expecting her to spin on her heels and walk away. But her eyes bore into his and she didn’t move for a while. Or maybe it only felt like a long time because he hadn’t seen her in weeks. Peter was frozen in place until Ned spoke up.

“Get your ass up, man! Go talk to her.”

He did, almost tripping as he stood up, making a fool of himself in the process, but he did. He could swear he saw the shadow of a smile on her lips.

He didn’t know how he got in front of her, but there he stood, and he still didn’t have the slightest idea what to tell her.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” she said, voice a little croaky but managing a smile. No hello; no beating around the bush.

Nodding, he asked Ned to keep an eye on Tessa until he came back, then led the way. They stepped out into the night. It wasn’t late but it was January and the sun set early. In any other circumstances, he would have gone to his room, but he wasn’t entirely sure she would welcome the idea. It was his personal space, and he couldn’t tell if they were still this close…

In any case, the cold air would do him some good. Get his thoughts in order, maybe. It helped with other things too. The wind helped blow away the sweet scent of her perfume following her for example.

All his senses were on high alert, everything was exponentially more intense, he was aware of every little thing: the sound of her steps behind him, her ragged breathing, the delicate brush of her shoulder against him when he held the front door open for her and she walked out of the building. No one was around, it was too cold and dark to hang out outside.

They had been quiet up until now, but he was screaming inside. A voice at the back of his head told him to break the ice and say something, anything at all, but he couldn’t.

He especially couldn’t when she turned around, looking all awkward and adorable, rubbing her left arm and biting on her lower lip, looking at her feet before finally meeting his gaze and making him forget his train of thought. Peter’s hand yearned to reach out to her, this distance was unbearable. She was standing a meter away from him, and it was too much.

“Tessa missed you,” he eventually said. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Talking about your dog? Way to go, man.

She didn’t seem to mind the awkward opening sentence and even smiled a little. She tightened her scarf around her neck before speaking.

“I missed her too,” Emmeline replied with the same shy smile she shot him before. She’s uncomfortable with me now, Peter thought bitterly. “I miss you, Peter.”

There was something he hadn’t expected to hear, and it answer to this surprising confession, he shrugged. He shrugged. Then he sucked in his cheeks, willing his heartbeat to slow down and his cheeks not to turn red. Red with embarrassment, red with flusterment, and red from frustration.

“I’m right here,” he eventually told her, keeping his voice very low even though they were alone, walking lazily across campus to nowhere in particular, just from one streetlight to the next. What else was he supposed to say?

A soft, all too familiar smile graced Emmeline’s lips then.

“You know what I mean. Four weeks feel like forever without seeing you,” she added, not making it any easier for Peter to keep his calm.

If he knew what she meant? He had missed her so much that he drove his aunt and friends crazy.

However, and as much as he hated it, a part of him was mad. Mad that she didn’t give him a chance to explain himself, mad that she disappeared for weeks and let him worry, not giving any sign of life! But it was a small, petty part of himself.

“You asked me to stay away, what did you expect I would do?”

Now that wasn’t fair, and this time Peter couldn’t stop his cheeks from flaming up after telling this blatant, shameful and petty lie. He had tried to see her again, even if he had meant it to be discrete this time, and she had been in her own right to ask to be left alone.

It came out a little harsher than intended too. Where was all this pent-up anger all those weeks of loneliness? He had felt her absence so deeply, it was hard not to sound bitter, but now wasn’t the time to let his frustration out. This was on him. He only had himself to blame.

Then again, he knew he messed up, and in the end, his own idiocy had made him as miserable as her. Shouldn’t that count for something? Play in his favor, somehow? He was grasping at straws and he knew it.

“Ouch,” Emmeline laughed a little then, wincing at his words. She looked down at her feet and then back up again. “I guess I deserve that.”

They had stopped walking. Peter couldn’t remember when exactly, but he realized it when a snowflake gently twirling down and fell on Emmeline’s cheek, her face illuminated by the sharp white light of the streetlamp they stood under.

“No, no…” Peter shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it, I just- I…” With his hands still in his pockets because he didn’t have his gloves, he shrugged again.

He had well and truly stolen that habit of shrugging important things off from Emmeline. God, he had waited to see her again for weeks and now that she was there, ready to listen to him, he fucked it up again. She was so beautiful; she took his breath away. The way she simply stood there, nose slightly buried in her thick scarf to protect it from the cold, oblivious to the effect of her mere presence on him.

“You had every right to be mad at me. I- I lied… I hid things from you… I pretended…”

The list could go on but Peter already had a hard time holding up her gaze as it was, no need to add to the list of his offences. Was it foolish of him to still hope that their blooming relationship was salvageable? Had he given too much credit to May and Tony’s encouragements?

Suddenly, Emmeline let out a shaky breath, eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t put his finger on. It had never been so hard not to close the distance between them, and Peter’s hand twitched from having to stay put. She’ll come to you, May had said. In her own time. He shouldn’t-

The impact nearly knocked him off his feet but Peter held steady and welcomed Emmeline’s embrace, even if it almost sent them both toppling over. It took him a moment to process what was happening, but luckily for him his body was quicker than his brain and his arms encircled her as soon as her body hit his.

He breathed in deeper than he had at any point during the last four weeks, and the intoxicating scent of her signature perfume filled his lungs, making him pleasantly dizzy. The way she clung to him, arms around his shoulders and face against his neck, breathed a new life into him. She gave no sign of wanting to let go, and Peter was not complaining in the least. She was soft and warm in cold, harsh environment, he could have held onto her forever.

With one hand around her waist and the other resting behind her neck, he gently stroked her hair – God, she had the softest hair he had ever touched. Not that he had a lot of material to compare it to, but it was hard to imagine anything softer than Emmeline’s long, shiny hair. Unable to hold back, Peter nuzzled it, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment and try to slow down the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

She pulled away just as quickly as she pulled him into the hug. While Peter had no desire to let go, he unwrapped his arm from around her and let her take a step back. She was a bit red in the face, she rubbed her cheeks as if to physically get the blush to go away.

“Sorry,” she croaked out. “That was inappropriate, I just-“

“I missed you,” he finished for her, shoving his hands into his front pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. Emmeline pulled on her sleeves and looked down at her feet to collect herself before meeting his gaze again. “And I hope I haven’t ruined everything between us.”

His eyes asked the silent question he couldn’t bring himself to voice but he saw on Emmeline’s face that she read him well enough to see it.

“I’m not mad at you anymore, Peter,” she told him, earning a sigh of relief. “I know I flipped out at Christmas, and then I went cold turkey on you and disappeared from the face of the earth for weeks. I needed a bit of time to process everything and…” and figure out if you still wanted to see me now that you know the truth, Peter finished her sentence in his head.

She had told him she didn’t want to see him or Spider-Man again, but after the second week of radio silence, he spied on her apartment, trying to get a glimpse of her, just one glimpse to make sure she was alright and then he was going to leave her be. He hadn’t seen her. In fact, he had gone back once more – maybe she was just out that night? – but it seemed the place was deserted.

“I’m mad at myself, though,” she then said, making him frown and shake his head.

“What- Why?”

She hesitated. Peter’s brain gears overworked to try and find a reason for her to be mad at herself when he was the one who had deceived her. It looked like she didn’t know where to look, her eyes jumped from one thing to the next, all in an effort to not meet his eyes. Eventually, she sighed and looked up again.

“Let’s get something to drink. I think I owe you a coffee at the very least.”

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duhragonball · 5 years

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Dragon Ball GT Retrospective (5/7)

[Note: I originally wrote this on January 14, 2013.]

The final arc of Dragon Ball GT is one big slap in the face of anyone who held out hope that it would somehow get better. I remember when Funimation promoted the last round of episodes premieing on Cartoon Network. "The Shadow Dragons Saga". That just sounds epic, right? They couldn't possibly screw that up, right? I mean, Shadow Dragons have to be awesome, whatever they are. It's probably a law or something. Well, someone call the cops, because Toei found a way to take a concept like "Shadow Dragons" and make it suck.

The story begins with the fallout from the Super 17 Saga. Goku and his friends gather the Earth's Dragon Balls to repair the damage caused by the Hell portal, but when they find the balls, they're all cracked. Unsure how to proceed, they decide to summon the Eternal Dragon anyway, and to their horror the whole thing goes pear-shaped. Smoke billows out of the cracks of the balls, and the dragon that emerges is completely different from the Shenron they usually deal with. This dragon smokes a big cigar and he mocks the heroes when they ask to make a wish. The Smoke Dragon then takes the Dragon Balls away and dissipates. At this point, the Elder Kai contacts Goku and explains what the hell just happened. The whole issue stems from a throwaway line from the end of Dragon Ball Z. Then, the Elder Kai disapproved of using the Dragon Balls to revive the victims of Majin Buu. He trusted the Namekians with the power of the Dragon Balls because they refrained from using them, but he felt that frequent wish-making would interfere in the "natural evolution" of the universe, or something like that. At the time, everyone just assumed he was being conservative, but this Smoke Dragon is what he had been worried about from the beginning. The short version is that the Dragon Balls have side-effects. Each time you make a wish, it introduces bad karma to the balls. They store the negative energy until they can't contain it any longer, and if that happens they crack and release an evil dragon that can destroy the world. Normally the safety valve for this is that the Dragon Balls scatter across the planet after each use, and they take centuries to find again, which is plenty of time for the negative energy to dissipate. But Bulma invented the Dragon Radar, which has allowed her and her friends to gather the Dragon Balls multiple times in a matter of decades. This latest attempt was the straw that broke the camel's back. Bulma quickly shifts the blame to Goku, since she never would have been able to gather the Dragon Balls without his help, and Goku decides that the only way to make things right is to go kick some evil dragon ass. Pan tags along with Giru (the robot who assimilated the Dragon Radar), and that's the status quo for the next several episodes. The Smoke Dragon separates into seven evil Shadow Dragons, each with a Dragon Ball embedded in his body. Giru locates them with the radar, Goku fights them for a while, repeat seven times. As you might have anticipated, I have several problems with this premise. First, the Dragon Balls aren't some magic talisman that appeared out of nowhere. Granted, they didn't come with an instruction manual, but over the course of the story, we learn how they were created and how they work. The Namekians essentially "invented" the art of making Dragon Balls, and the general rule is that a set of balls is only as powerful as its creator allows it to be. Thus, the Earth's Dragon Balls could resurrect the dead, but they were helpless against Vegeta and Nappa, who were stronger than Kami, their creator. The Namekian Dragon Balls could grant three wishes, but they could only resurrect one person per wish. Dragon Balls can also be "transferred" from one creator to another. When Kami merged with Piccolo, Goku recruited another Namek, Dende, to reactivate his Dragon Balls. Dende not only accomplished this, but he took requests, and rearranged the wishing power of the Dragon to grant two wishes instead of just one. As a bonus, you could just make one wish, then come back and make the other four months later instead of waiting a full year. When Guru, the creator of Namek's Dragon Balls, died, Moori became their new caretaker, and he removed the whole "one resurrection per wish" limitation. The point I'm trying to make here is that the "technology" of the Dragon Balls is pretty well understood, and while it might seem magical to the uninitiated, experts like Dende, Mr. Popo, and Moori were always happy to answer questions and explain the rules. So why didn't they ever say anything about the dangers of overuse? When the Smoke Dragon appears, Mr. Popo mentions how an evil dragon destroyed an entire star system once. Why didn't he say anything about this before? Of course, it's not like the good guys used the Balls frivolously. Most of the time it was kind of an emergency, or a matter of stopping a bad guy from using them first. But still, at some point they should have come forward and explained the risks. "Look, we seriously have to stop using the Dragon Balls or else." Second, assuming the Dragon Balls were designed with this limitation in mind, why do they only turn to stone for a single year? Whoever wrote this episode of GT never considered the fact that the Dragon Balls already had a safety valve in that they can't be used continuously, even if you have the means to re-gather them all. If the safest course is to use the Dragon Balls only once every 100 years, as Elder Kai says, then why not fix it so the Dragon Balls remain inert for a full 100 years? This is the same problem I had with the Black Star Dragon Balls destroying the world after each use. Why would anyone create something so inherently dangerous? This would be like Sauron forging the One Ring and if he doesn't take it to Mars and polish it exactly seven times on every seventh Thursday it blows up and kills him. No, that's dumb. He made it convenient for himself. If he loses it, it'll find its way back to him. It's indestructible unless you take it deep within the heart of his own territory. That's not airtight, but it's pretty safe. I could accept that the Black Star Dragon Balls were a flawed, overpowered creation, but this "negative energy" idea holds that any Dragon Balls are flawed and overpowered. What good are they if you can only make one wish every century, and there's no one around to enforce that rule? Third, no one ever brings up the Namekian Dragon Balls, which were used almost as often as the Earth's set. If each wish contaminates the Balls, then a set that grants three wishes a pop should be even more dangerous. Worse, the Namekian year is roughly one-third of an Earth year, so the Namekian Dragon Balls can be used three times more frequently. The Namekians themselves had little need for that many wishes, but after the battles with Frieza, Buu, and Baby, they had to use them to help out the people of Earth at least five times. That's fifteen wishes, dammit. So where's their evil smoke dragon monster? No one even attempts to explain this, which just makes the premise that much harder to believe. I'm not saying Dragon Ball or Dragon Ball Z were free of plot holes, but Akira Toriyama worked pretty hard to establish the rules of the story and keep them straight. With GT they just do whatever and hope the audience doesn't think about it too hard. Fourth, why don't they just kill Dende? The deal is that if the Dragon Balls' caretaker dies, then the Balls and the Dragon both go inert. Usually this is a obstacle to be overcome, but in GT the Dragon Balls seem to cause more problems than they solve. Piccolo sacrificed himself to prevent the Black Star Balls from being used again, so why doesn't Dende take one for the team and end this Shadow Dragon crisis before it starts? Of course, he doesn't have to die, he could just use his power over the Dragon to deactivate it, right? Again, I could live with this as long as someone on the show offered an explanation why this won't work. The whole premise seems to hinge on the idea that the negative energy contaminating Shenron is much stronger than the powers of Shenron himself or his creator. But why should that be? If the negative energy is a backlash to the energy used to grant wishes, then shouldn't evil Shenron be exactly as powerful as regular Shenron? He can be despicable and uncontrollable, but physically he's no stronger than before. King Piccolo killed Shenron with one hit, and Goku's like a million times stronger than that in GT. And yet the Shadow Dragons are strong enough to give a Super Saiyan 4 a hard time. I can appreciate the poetry of the Dragon Balls themselves being the final boss of the Dragon Ball mythos, but it just doesn't line up with everything we've known about the Dragon Balls leading up to this. For all the hype, Shenron was never omnipotent, and he's actually pretty fragile when you get down to it. His main role is to solve problems that can't be fixed with punching or explosions, so putting him in a situation where he has to trade punches with Goku is kind of dumb. Toei tried to solve this problem by beefing up Shenron, effectively turning him into an unrecognizable set of characters. Instead of one giant dragon who looks pretty scary, we get seven humanoid-looking goofs who are supposed to be insanely powerful, but most of them just suck. More than half of the Shadow Dragons are pathetic. I'm not saying that to insult the concept, I mean they are literally pathetic characters. Goku shows up and they go all to pieces, mostly for the sake of bad comedy. Then they use guile and treachery instead of strength, and Goku only wins when he finally stops screwing around. I suppose this was a deliberate plan to make the Shadow Dragons feel like other groups in Dragon Ball. Each Shadow Dragon is stronger than the last, and the real challenge is to beat the one at the end. Fair enough, but why would Shenron divide himself so unevenly? For that matter, why do the good guys play along with that? Goku wants to fight them all by himself and no one has a problem with that? Considering how weak most of the enemies are, they would have been better off sending Goten or Majuub to wipe out some of them while Goku handles the tough ones. Anyway, the worst part about the Shadow Dragons is that they each get at least one whole episode to show off how much they suck. The Two-Star Dragon: Funimation gave each Shadow Dragon a name, and they called this one "Haze Shenron" because he deals in pollution. He's the weakest Dragon, but his pollution powers make his enemies even weaker, so that's why it takes twenty minutes to beat him. This is dumb, because all the heroes in the show are adept at sensing ki, the life energy everyone uses for shooting fireballs and flying and so forth. Goku can tell that Haze Shenron is weak just by looking at him, but for some reason he can't sense his own power fading. Of course, if he'd just destroyed Haze at first sight, he could have avoided the entire issue, but they had to stop and talk to him first. Haze's weakness is his overconfidence. Once he has Goku and Pan beaten, he tosses them into a polluted lake, thinking the acidity would corrode their flesh in minutes. Instead, Giru (who is unaffected by pollution because he's a robot) rescues them and drags them to a cleaner part of the lake. Not only does this clean water revive them, but they stay down there for like five minutes without drowning. Now that they have a second chance to beat Haze, they take him out with one hit and recover the Two-Star Dragon Ball. The Five-Star Dragon: This guy was named "Rage Shenron", which doesn't make sense unless rage has something to do with electricity, which is his power. Rage looks like a deformed bird fetus, and he controls purple slime that feeds on electricity. He's not much stronger than Haze, so he uses all of his electric slime to create a giant replica of himself to ride around in. Goku turns Super Saiyan 4 to fight him, but his attacks are useless against Rage's slime, which can absorb ki blasts and redirect them. Rage's weakness is his overconfidence. Once the battle starts going his way, he gathers so much electrical power that his slime body grows to the size of a small town. Goku and Pan are helpless against him, but fortunately it rains. Rain short circuits the slime, destroying it, but Rage's body is so large that he can't take shelter. Goku and Pan literally float in the air and watch the dumbass beat himself because he was too sloppy to check the weather forecast. Rage makes a fake surrender ploy at the very end, so Goku blows him away with a Kamehameha just for good measure. The Six-Star Dragon: They called this one "Oceanus Shenron", although he seems to be more of a wind elemental than a water one. At this point, the continuity starts to get fuzzy, because it seems like Goku and Pan have only been at this for one afternoon, but by the time they track down Oceanus, he's already established himself as a local legend in this fishing town. His tampering with nature somehow causes fish to fly out of the ocean and onto dry land, and the villiagers gather them up instead of fishing like they're supposed to be doing. For no apparent reason, Oceanus assumes the form of a green woman called "Princess Oto", but Goku and Pan see through the disguise immediately. Oceanus mostly spams this one attack, Whirlwind Spin, which resembles a hurricane. Even though Goku once broke a mountain in half with his bare hands, the air pressure it strong enough to pin him down. He could power up to Super Saiyan 4, but he doesn't. I have no idea why. Oceanus' weakness is his overconfidence. Pan is too stupid to figure out the flaw in Whirlwind Spin, so a seagull demonstrates it for her. Like a hurricane, the center of the attack is relatively calm, so if you fly in directly overhead, you can get in a free shot. Pan hits Oceanus with a Kamehameha, and Goku uses his own for good measure, and that's it. The Seven-Star Dragon: This one is named "Natron" or "Naturon". I don't even know what that means, since he's a body thief who digs tunnels. He hot dogs it for a whole episode just so he can pretend to lose and trick Pan into taking his Dragon Ball. This allows him to take control of her body, which he uses to become much stronger (his first body was an ordinary mole, so it's a big step up). Pan's not that strong in Dragon Ball Z terms, but apparently Pan + Natron Shenron is somewhat impressive. It's kind of hard to tell how strong he is, though, because Goku keeps holding back for fear of killing his grandaughter. Natron's weakness is... his overconfidence. Goku plays possum near the end, and Natron taunts him by allowing Pan to partially emerge from his body. Goku yanks her out, leaving Natron stuck in his true form, which is somehow even smaller and crappier than the other three Shadow Dragons we've seen so far. For some reason Goku's totally cool beating up this sad sack in his SSJ4 form, even though he barely bothered to use it against the other three. Kamehameha, and we're done. They spent two episodes on this bullcrap, so I especially hate this one. The Four-Star Dragon: This one has fire powers, so Funimation named him "Nuova Shenron". I don't know why they spelled it that way, unless it was for trademark purposes. They didn't call the Two-Star Dragon "Haiz Shenron" though. Nuova looks pretty dumb, but compared to the first four he at least looks like a worthy opponent. He's also the first one who can actually fight worth a damn. So of course Toei introduces him just as Goku's inexplicably weakened from hunger. It's not like they're in the middle of nowhere. Goku could fly back home in a few minutes and grab something to eat in between dragons, so why did he walk into Nuova's turf unprepared? The result is a whole episode of pointless stalling. Nuova wants to play cat and mouse with Goku, even though he seems to be able to kill him in a toe-to-toe fight, thanks to his heat powers. Goku scampers around and whines about how hungry he is, and Nuova calmly walks around looking for him, apparently forgetting that he can a) fly, b) fly at super speed, and c) melt anything in his path. If Goku punches Nuova, he'll only burn his hand, so the only hope he has is energy blasts, which he can't use because he's too hungry. Nuova's weakness is sloppy writing. Even though Goku just got done complaining that he's too weak to fight with energy blasts, he turns around and starts harassing Nuova with energy blasts. The idea seems to be that he can't land a heavy blow, but he can whittle him down with hit-and-run attacks. This leads to Goku using the sewers for cover, and when Nuova chases him into the sewer, he's briefly stymied when he runs into a dead end. Blocking Goku's path is some sort of giant ventilation fan. He doesn't want to fight Nuova in close quarters, but that fan you guys. It's turning at speeds exceeding 3rpm. It must weigh at least twenty pounds, and it's probably made of solid aluminum. How can Goku possibly get past it? Well, he digs down deep, and somehow finds the courage and skill to time a perfect jump through this enormous, slow-moving fan that probably wouldn't have hurt him even if he missed. What's more confusing is that Nuova didn't just shoot him dead while he was waiting for the right moment. Once they're out of the sewer, Goku then decides to fight Nuova as a Super Saiyan 4, even though he was too weak to do anything else for most of the episode. Intermission: Now, in the midst of all this, Vegeta's back at home having a midlife crisis. This is probably the best episode of Dragon Ball GT, simply because it's roughly 50% flashbacks of cool scenes from DBZ. Vegeta's frustrated because he hasn't gotten to do anything for the whole series, mainly due to the fact that he never advanced beyond Super Saiyan 2, while Goku is two levels above that. He wants to help round up the Shadow Dragons, but Bulma warns him he'll die. Look, maybe he's not the strongest guy on the block anymore, but I'm pretty sure Vegeta could have taken out the first four Shadow Dragons, and I'm really sure he could have blasted apart that ventilation fan that stymied Goku. Also, Pan's a lot weaker than Goku and she managed to stay alive this long. Anyway, Bulma figures out how to turn Vegeta into a Super Saiyan 4 so he can join the battle. I'm kind of surprised it took this long for them to try it, since her plan is to just use the same technology that turned Vegeta into a Golden Great Ape during his possession by Baby. Cleansed of Baby's contamination, Vegeta can repeat the process, and jump from Golden Ape to SSJ4, the same way Goku did. Come to think of it, Vegeta could have just undergone the same procedure Goku used to grow his tail back. It's been like a year since SSJ4 was discovered, so it's not like he hasn't had time to work on that. What sucks about this episode is that they spend the entire time teasing SSJ4 Vegeta, but we don't get to see it until several episodes later. The Three-Star Dragon: While Nuova Shenron fights SSJ4 Goku in a halfway decent battle, his comrade "Eis Shenron" shows up and interferes. See, he has ice powers, so Eis=Ice, or something. The gag with Eis Shenron is that he's Nuova's brother, and while Nuova's been teasing a face turn during his battle with Goku, Eis is a cowardly opportunist. He uses Pan as a human shield, has no qualms about using dirty tricks to win, and when Nuova refuses to help him, he feigns surrender and blinds Goku with a.... You know, actually, I have no idea how Eis blinded Goku. He's on his knees surrendering, he surreptitiously dips his fingers into a frozen puddle on the ground, and then he swipes at Goku's face. The implication is that Goku's eyes have been poisoned somehow. I mean, is it poison ice? That doesn't make a lot of sense. And yet, afterwards, Goku washes his eyes out with water, and Nuova gives him a small bottle of "antidote" (where did he get it?). So I don't think we're talking about frostbitten corneas or whatever. The point is that Goku spends the next four episodes or so with his eyes shut. Eis' weakness is that Goku can kick your ass with his eyes shut. He stupidly assumes that blinding Goku "halves" his strength. Except Goku can sense his enemies' ki, so he can still fight just as effectively without looking. This has been demonstrated countless times in the past, so I don't know why Toei would pretend to ignore this years later. Eis and Nuova are supposed to be the strongest enemies Goku has encountered to date, but they fight like amateurs. Goku punches a hole in Eis' body and follows up with Super Dragon Fist, which would have been satisfying if he hadn't waited so long to use it. Nuova Shenron decides to withdraw, feeling that it would be wrong to fight Goku until he regains his sight. I find Nuova's change of heart ridiculous. The Shadow Dragons entire reason for being is to destroy the world. When Goku meets him, it's in the ruins of a city he presumably attacked and destroyed. He claims to have a code against hurting innocents or the defenseless, except he's made from evil energy and his ultimate goal is to destroy the world. Goku never questions him about this apparent conflict of interest, and it doesn't really matter because Nuova gets killed before it really becomes an issue. Just as he gives Goku the antidote to Eis' blinding attack, both he and the medicine are cut down by.... The One-Star Dragon: This guy doesn't have any elemental powers, so Funimation just called him "Syn Shenron". He's easily the strongest one, which begs the question of why he didn't just come after Goku from the start. He no-sells all of Goku's attacks, and leaves him battered and unconscious. Seems like a winner, right? Syn's weakness is GT Logic. Just when all seems lost, Goku's family and Trunks show up to help him. Gohan, Goten, and Trunks agree that they're not strong enough to fight alongside Goku, but they plan to donate their energy to Goku so he can recharge to full power. Majuub tries to hold off Syn Shenron, but to no avail. Despite the fact that Syn dominated a Super Saiyan 4, the boys manage to hold him off long enough. So if they can do that, why can't they just fight Syn directly? And if they really are no match for Syn, how are their combined powers sufficient to re-energize Goku? Of course, this whole paradox is just a retread of the last time SSJ4 Goku needed a recharge, back when he was fighting Baby. Goku insists on taking more energy from the boys than is safe to use, because he needs extra juice to cope with Syn's power. This is irritating, because it really isn't clear what the risks are in this situation. Gohan and the others are no worse for wear, in spite of giving "all" their energy to Goku, and Goku doesn't seem to get much stronger for the boost. It's just a lot of sound and fury signifying nothing. Goku does manage to get the upper hand on Syn, although it seems less like Goku is stronger and more like Syn just overdosed on stupid pills. Even though we've established that Goku can fight just as effectively while blind, Syn still tries to exploit the weakness by throwing a clockface from a tower at him. Goku then blows him away with a Kamehameha-Super Dragon Fist combination. The only catch is that it doesn't get the job done. Though beaten, Syn absorbs the other six Dragon Balls, transfoming into "Omega Shenron", the final final boss of Dragon Ball GT. Hoo-boy. NEXT: The Omega Glory

#dragon ball gt #really sucks #2013gt #no seriously i'm rereading these as i go and i'm seeing stupid bullshit that i had forgotten about #every once in a while i think to myself 'well gt wasn't *that* bad'#but no it was fucking awful #goku #pan #giru #rage shenron

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phantasieandmirare · 4 years

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Okay so this is going to be fun. I haven’t seen Cats yet and I’m torn between wanting to just for the Experience and not wanting to to preserve the love I have for the musical itself. But I know a lot about the musical and characters (and I’ll be sharing my/the fandom’s general headcanons with you) because I watched the 1998 TV film on repeat when I was younger. So here’s what happens in the musical (keeping in mind that I’ve only seen the 1998 movie and not the actual show but I know that the show is different) that y’all are missing.

If you didn’t know at this point, the entire musical is based on the book ‘Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats’ by T.S. Eliot which is a book of short cutesy poems. This was one of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s favorite book when he was younger and he wrote the entire musical as a composition exercise to see if he could write music with predetermined lyrics.

There are so many interviews of Andrew Lloyd Weber explaining what the musical is about in the 80s and it’s just as awkward as literally anyone trying to explain Cats right now. But he’s trying his best. Cut him some slack.

I am literally watching the 1998 movie on YouTube as I type this. It’s all available there. Please watch it if you need to purge the Cats movie from your brain and replace it with something watchable.

I used to have all of the names of the cats memorized. I’m not kidding. I could tell you who was singing what line in every song. I knew the background characters. I could look at a picture and tell you who everyone was in it with extreme accuracy. I had every song memorized. I knew everything. I am the Cats God.

Munkustrap is the narrator of the musical. He’s also the de facto leader/protector of the Jellicles when Old Deuteronomy isn’t there. He’s like the prime minister to Old Deuteronomy’s queen/king. From what I understand he does not have the same sway in the movie which sucks because he’s my favorite and I love him.

There are two cats in the musical who are psychic. They’re twins. Their names are Coricopat and Tantomile. I’m not making this up. I think this is only mentioned in the stage show itself but on the off chance that it’s not and I just happen to know this now you know too.

“There’s a man over there with a look of surprise. As much as to say ‘well now how about that’. Do I actually see with my own very eyes a man who has not heard of a Jellicle Cat? ‘What’s a Jellicle Cat? What’s a Jellicle Cat? What’s a Jellicle Cat?’” Please tell me this line is in the movie. I’m begging you. Because this is hilarious now that this is now every single person’s reaction to the very concept of Cats.

From all the reviews I’m guessing that The Naming of Cats is not in the movie or it’s not played the way it is on stage. Which is a shame because that would be another delightful moment that confuses and horrifies everyone who has no idea what Cats is. If they played The Naming of Cats the way that they do on stage that alone would have cleared the movie theater instantly. For about three minutes they tell you how cats are named. In complete sync. They get louder and move closer to the audience as they go on. It’s low key terrifying. I also had this memorized. It was one of my favorite songs in the musical.

Our boy Mr. Mistoffelees is not named Mr. Mistoffelees for most of the show. He’s called Quaxo. The consensus is that ‘Mr. Mistoffelees’ is a separate identity and/or personality. I swear I’m not making this up.

Victoria and Quaxo/Mistoffelees are brother and sister. That’s a general headcanon that either I came to or is a consensus in the fandom. Not making this up either. Bustopher Jones/James Corden is their father. This is all assumed based on their coloration. This is also where I mention that I used to know all the family dynamics in this musicals and who’s with who.

It’s also a general consensus that Victoria isn’t ‘new’ but has just reached the age where she can be involved in the Jellicle Ball. She has the very first dance solo in the musical and is the one to finally accept Grizabella but that’s the only importance she has for the entire musical. She doesn’t have any lines or her own song but is instantly recognizable in every picture ever.

Jennyanydots is introduced wearing a large fur coat/get-up that she can barely stand up in and then removes it to reveal a flapper dress later. I assume that’s what they were going for with the whole ‘Rebel Wilson takes off her skin’ issue. Her song/dance is tap-based. She’s the wine aunt of the group. She never eats the cockroaches. That’s never mentioned in the song. I don’t know why they did that.

Rum Tum Tugger is supposed to be based on Mick Jagger. I don’t know how well that translated into the movie but I hear they tried to redesign him into a more modern version on stage recently that did not go well at all because it was kinda racist. So let’s just stick with the Mick Jagger version cause it works better. All the girls in the group are obsessed with him/groupies. All the moms/queens are so over it. He and Quaxo/Mistoffelees have a love hate relationship. I used to read fanfiction and people ship the heck out of them. General consensus is that he and Bombalurina/Taylor Swift are a thing.

Grizabella’s entire deal is that she used to be a show cat who got dumped/a mangy stray who used to be beautiful but then got into too many fights/it’s vaguely implied that she was a cat prostitute.

Elaine Paige originated the role of Grizabella and then reprised it for the 1998 movie and that is the only reason that I know who Elaine Paige is.

The entire plot of this musical is that Grizabella is touch-starved.

Is Demeter mentioned in the movie? She’s also my favorite. Does she have a major role? Where’s my girl? Where is she? Anyway Demeter and Munkustrap are often shipped together too.

Bustopher Jones is essentially the Godfather and is the 1% of the Jellicles. Everyone loves him. He’s like Tugger for the older ladies/queens because they all also adore him. Quaxo/Mistoffelees chases him and plays with his tail and stuff like that a lot in the stage show and generally has this really proud air around him/is center stage in the song during his song which adds to the headcanon that Bustopher Jones is his dad.

To clear it up, Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer are brother and sister, they are not together. They’re also twins.

Old Deuteronomy shows up. The psychic twins say that he’s coming. As far as I know that’s the only indication we get ever that they’re psychic.

Tugger and Munkustrap are friends/frenemies. The headcanon is that Tugger wants to be the leader or just doesn’t like that Munkustrap tries to keep them all in line/doesn’t let Tugger do whatever he wants but besides that they’re buddies.

I think it was also implied somewhere/I had the headcanon that Old Deuteronomy and Grizabella are brother and sister. I think. I also think I had the headcanon that he’s Quaxo/Mistoffelees and Victoria’s grandfather because they also hang around him a lot. Ken Page who you may recognize as the voice of Oogie Boogie in The Nightmare Before Christmas plays Deuteronomy and originated the role and casually mentions that he’s probably the father of most of the cats so there you go.

They cut this from the movie and I understand why now but there’s a musical number about a battle between two tribes of dogs that they put on as a performance for Old Deuteronomy. Yes it’s musical inception. This is a big song for Munkustrap because he narrates and sings the entire thing. At one point Tugger plays bagpipes in it. I’m not kidding. Munkustrap spends the entire song being an exhausted stage manager trying to keep everything under control and it’s not going well and I feel that.

There’s a cat superhero called the Rumpus Cat. Yep.

The Jellicle Ball begins proper. There’s a lot of flirting and dancing and acrobatics and generally wild stuff for a good ten minutes. Generally it’s framed as Old Deuteronomy deciding which one of them gets to enter the Heaviside Layer through dance. What is his criteria for who gets to die? They never tell us.

Anyway Victoria performs the mating dance with a cat named Plato/Admetus (again, Victoria and Quaxo/Mistoffelees are never together and they are siblings thank you very much). The orgy is real folks. We don’t talk about it. I think I watched this scene once when I was little (also when I say little I mean like 12/13) and then never again because it’s extremely awkward to watch. I would just skip right over it as soon as the music started getting slow and move on to Memory. This right here is the first time that I’m watching it in literal years. It’s still as awkward as it was then.

There’s a cat named Jemima/Sillabub (a lot of these cats have multiple names/their names are different between productions/regions if you haven’t picked up on that already). She’s basically what they made Victoria into in the movie and is important for the plot. I don’t know why they focused in on Victoria when Jemima/Sillabub is right there.

Gus the Theater Cat sings his song and I also cry every single time because Gus is the sweetest cat in the entire musical and I love him and also the song is sad as heck especially if you think about how this is an older man playing this role and talking about how his acting days are past him. There’s another musical number about one of Gus’s most famous roles but they didn’t put that into the 1998 movie because of budget issues and not having enough space on the set to do it anyway.

I do not remember this moment but for about ten seconds a specter of Gus as his most famous character comes out, walks around menacingly, and then leaves and I DON’T REMEMBER THAT AT ALL. Anyway Gus follows it around because it’s his memory of his younger self and the heartbreak on his face when it disappears and the fact that this character cries at the end of the song and doesn’t even finish it shatters my entire heart. Gus has six minutes and then he leaves and we never see him again and sometimes I think about Gus and cry.

So after breaking your soul with Gus we jump directly into Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat who is also a delight and from what I hear people in the movie really liked him too. If you like nothing else about Cats you have to agree that Skimbles is wonderful.

Macavity the Mystery Cat is my second favorite song in the entire musical. Bombalurina/Taylor Swift and Demeter both perform it together (I listened to Taylor Swift’s version after I finished watching this and I am so mad that they cut Demeter out of it entirely because Demeter makes this song and she’s another one of my favorites). It’s the female power ballad of the entire musical and their voices/belting is sick as heck and also I used to have the choreography memorized on top of everything else. It’s implied that Demeter and Macavity used to be a thing before she escaped him. There are layers to this.

Macavity tries to sneak back in dressed up as Old Deuteronomy but because Demeter is his old flame she sees right through it. The cats all fight and then Macavity escapes and is never mentioned again. We can safely assume that he does this every year.

My absolute favorite song in the entire musical/the first one I ever heard is Magical Mr. Mistoffelees. Tugger introduces him and sings most of the song. Mistoffelees actually doesn’t sing for the entire thing, it’s all Tugger. Tugger keeps singing about how Mistoffelees has a signature move called the ‘conjuring turn’ which on stage is twenty-four consecutive fouettés en tournant and it’s impressive as heck. Mistoffelees is one of the most demanding dance roles in the entire musical. Here’s the thing though, they don’t have the conjuring turn in the 1998 movie, the way that the music is cut we can assume that they filmed it and then it got cut or they lost the footage or something so for a long time I never saw it and then I looked it up and it was awesome. Anyway this is my cat son and I love him.

Onstage Grizabella ascends to the Heaviside Layer in one of two ways: either by a staircase that descends from the ceiling, or (again I’m not making this up) in a flying saucer. If you’re still confused about the plot of Cats take the fact that they ascend to cat heaven on a UFO and go forth knowing that the answer to ‘What is Cats?’ has a legitimate answer of ‘Aliens’.

So that’s Cats. Namely the version that I hoped we were getting and that we were robbed off in favor of God-awful CGI and a lot of uncomfortable horniness (or at least more than there normally is in the actual show) and Rebel Wilson tearing off her skin.

#cats #cats the musical #cats 1998 #the only version of cats that matters #be quiet sarah #i don't know how to end this post #i took an entire day of my life to write this post please appreciate my efforts #anyway #ok goodnight

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khrsecretvalentine · 5 years

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sunset reset (for lighteningdancer)

from: @trilies to: @lighteningdancer / Ginger Pairing: Byakuran/Shoichi

Note: Hey there, Ginger! You’re quite the familiar name to me at this point, so I got really excited when I pulled your name. Then you gave me so much freedom and so many liberties that I sort of short-circuited on what to write at first, lmao! However, per your advice, I did go with something that I don’t really write a lot of, both re: characters and, like… tone? Subject matter? I was apparently in A Mood (tw) when I began writing. I do hope that this end result is something that you find any sort of enjoyment in at all. If not, just let me know, because there’s plenty of other stuff that I’d love to make for you. Relatedly, let me know if you have an AO3, because I’d love to put it on this on there properly gifted to you! Unless you don’t want your name attached, which is also valid.

Content Warnings: Time Travel Fuckery, Alternate Universe Fuckery, Character Death that debatably counts, Suicide, a short Sex Scene, attempts at Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, non-detailed Torture, general Abuse, the intense and vaguely defined set of mental issues that come when your brain just gets overloaded with being Yourself but hundreds of times with hundreds of slightly-to-extremely different memories in slightly-to-different worlds aka “byakuran’s mental state must be a fucking trip"

——

Once a human tastes food for the first time, they always end up hungering for more, whatever "more” might mean for that particular individual. Maybe they look to be sated, content and full and warm. Maybe they look for a taste that can’t be beat, by their estimate. Maybe they simple look for something new, something interesting- a change in palate. On some level… He thinks Shoichi Irie is like that for him. Byakuran doesn't need him. Of course he doesn’t. But if he’s being completely and utterly technical, he doesn’t need a lot of the things that he takes for himself, because none of it actually matters in the end. It’s all just a game, something he does because it's interesting. That would be easy enough for anyone to understand, right? Sometimes you turn on a game counsel and feel the need to get all the achievements, and other times you do it because you want to see how far you can strain the system until it shatters completely. It really all depends, and sometimes, they’re both the same thing. One day, in one universe, he’ll complete the Tri-Ni-Sette, and that will be that. In terms of gaming, he supposes that would be the end all for the main objective. Very fittingly, he comes to learn that it is the most difficult task, no matter how much he prepares and plans. Well, it would be a boring game otherwise. It comes as quite a surprise that what would be a simple side quest any other game is almost just as difficult.

The very first time- if anything can even be called a ‘first’ at all when it’s all happening together, at the same time ,and yet completely separate- he decides to lay a claim to Shoichi Irie simply because it feels as though it’s what he should do. Another thing to check off the list. Besides, there’s a little fondness to it, he supposes. That’s not too surprising. Everyone always has that brief bit of fondness to the first character in a RPG that is kind to them, or makes the first move. He can remember playing a game with a female PC, and being charmed despite himself when a male knight almost immediately gave him a gift. Nothing special, nothing exciting or edgy, but amusing enough. Shoichi Irie isn’t a knight in any meaning of the word. Byakuran’s impression of him at his young ten-years-younger self is that of a typical awkward nerd, although he has to admit that one’s first impression probably isn’t reliable when it involves time travel panic. Yet that doesn’t change the most important part of their meeting, and it’s that he owes everything to that young flustered teenager who had run into him in the street. He hadn’t given him a rose or sweet words, but rather something so much more valuable. There are numerous jokes to be made about the tropes and cliches which are so prevalent in otome games, but Byakuran has found they aren’t exactly wrong in some cases. The Shoichi Irie he finds in this timeline fits so neatly in so many little boxes when he meets him for a second impression, watching him play at a seedy bar in a grubby dark side of town. Gone is the frantic nervousness, wore down into something much more exhausted that weighs down underneath his eyes and leaves just a little too much room underneath his shirt. Just a passing glance is enough to tell that the bassist is down on his luck, probably not helped by the fact that he’s not really fantastic at his instrument of choice. Judging by the way his bandmates are either in no better position or spit quiet words out at him with narrowed eyes, Byakuran can tell that they no doubt owe a lot of money from having all their nice equipment. For types like that, just like in all of the little romances he’s played through a screen, it doesn’t take much but a little bit of attention and kindness to draw Shoichi in. He doesn’t even need to do it that often, to his amusement, able to spend plenty of time building up this iteration of the Millefiore while attending to Shoici on the side. He’s successful with his Millefiore. Of course he is. Having cheatcodes to the universe makes it so very easy. Bit by bit, he lavishes care onto his little side quest, first bringing him in with compliments and indepth conversations even Byakuran is pleasantly surprised to find he enjoys. Then come the casual outtings, treating him to coffee or lunch, the two of them so absorbed that it reminds Byakuran of how fun these minor little things can be as a detour. He makes sure Shoichi never has to pay, the ill-gained money in his pockets always being more than enough. Sometimes it’s a fight to make it happen, of course. Despite his situation, Shoichi always seems to want to be self sufficient, and there’s a fire in his eyes that tugs at the interest of Byakuran’s heart. So down on his luck, and yet he still tries to struggle like this. How cute. Still, Byakuran manages to convince him one way or the other. Yet the game can’t merely stop at pampering a “love interest”… He makes the offer at the backstage of one of the many trash bars Shoichi plays at, his back against the wall while his arms have wound lazily about Shoichi’s body. A year of pampering has lead him to looking better than he did before, and a few minutes of Byakuran grinding his thigh inbetween his legs has lead him looking even better. Forget the nervous teenager that awoke him to all of this, forget the dead eyed man he’d seen on stage once. There’s that brilliant flickering fire behind Shoichi’s contacts, brow stubbornly crumpled, skin flushed so vividly it looks as though it should hurt, and his lips slick from every heavy breath that rushes out of him as he digs his fingers into Byakuran’s shoulders to weather the ride. Even when his entire body shudders, nails digging in past cotton, he still tries to press a bruising kiss to the side of Byakuran’s neck. Of course he can’t let Byakuran control the whole situation that easily. (His first clue, and one he ignores for longer than he would admit.) “You’re so cute, Sho-chan,” he murmurs into his ear, dragging his fingers down along his spine. Against his leg, he can feel Shoichi’s arousal straining painfully in tight denim and, almost better, the way he shivers when the warmth of his voice rushes through his ear. He can barely speak, so wound up in lust as he is, but Shoichi pushes through. “Who’s ever heard of a bassist being cute?” he rasps. There’s a ragtag sort of afterparty happening in the bar proper, drowning out the sounds of their rutting, so he does his best in keeping quiet. All that does is make his voice low and husky, drawing Byauran’s eyelids halfway down. That’s more than good enough, he thinks, and he eases up on the pressure. Shoichi blinks up at him, dazed and aroused, unable to stop Byakuran as he adjusts himself until he’s sliding down the wall and inbetween Shoichi’s legs. Understanding hits him quick enough, and he braces one arm against the wall. It doesn’t escape Byakuran how his breathing only gets all the harder. “I want to keep you,” he says, his own voice low, possessive, and he can almost see the way it drops right through Shoichi’s gut. His fingers make quick work of popping open the button to his jeans. “Will you let me, Sho-chan?” Using the very tip of his tongue, he flicks up the zipper and takes it between his teeth, eyes staying locked on his precious interest’s own gaze the whole time as he drags it down slowly. “That’s…” The words are choked in his throat, and he tosses his head back as Byakuran slides his aroused cock out into the open air. “You’ve given me so much… and now you’re asking me that?” “But I want to hear it, Sho-chan.” Grinning slyly, he drags his tongue up from the very base of Shoichi’s cock and flicks tip against tip. Satisfaction pools in his stomach at how the hips in his hands jerk. “Let me keep you, or else I won’t let you come even a little bit.” He nuzzles his way back down, hot breath ghosting along sensitive skin, until he can wrap his lips around his balls. It’s harder to watch Shoichi like this now, buried into his hips, but he can still hear the way his hand slaps across his mouth, muffling the harsh gasp he makes. In contrast to the quiet his interest is desperately trying to maintain, Byakuran lives to shatter that. Underneath the yells and laughter and pounding music of the bar, he sloppily licks and sucks along the aching arousal that’s right at his face, every sound an obscene prayer. He knows it works up Shoichi, too. It’s hard not to pick up on it, feeling how his legs shake and his hips tremble from the effort of holding back. There’s not even any reason to edge him for long. Soon enough, Shoichi is gasping and keening over his head, squirming desperately into Byakuran’s mouth. “Dammit- dammit, Byakuran- take me! I want you…. Nn-” He glances up at that, pleased at what he sees: Shoichi looking down at him, teeth digging into a finger from where his hand isn’t quite covering his mouth, arousal twisting his expression so desperately. “I want you… to take me. Keep me. Please-!" At the end, when Shoichi is slumped against him and drifting down the tides of post-orgasm, Byakuran indulgently curls his fingers into his hair to keep his face pressed into his shoulder. "No takebacks,” he purrs, ignoring the soreness along his back. “I’ll keep you forever now, Sho-chan. Even across universes.” Blissfully unaware of threat and lie alike, Shoichi laughs breathlessly against his shirt. “Romantic.” When Byakuran says it, he says it as a lie. But what do you call a lie that becomes a truth when you never meant for it to be? Never one satisfied with leaving a side quest partially forgotten or abandoned the first time through, Byakuran pushes all the way. He helps pay off his debt, convinces him out of a band he’s clearly miserable in. With the money he’s so quickly managed to accumulate, there’s no question of how easy it is to get Shoichi to live with him. Free of any real obligation, Byakuran watches in faint interest but mostly amusement as his interest begins to relax. He’s really, truly, unbelievably still nothing impressive with a bass, but at least he seems more content as he fiddles with it and all the other songs he tries to write. What’s more relevant to Byakuran is how Shoichi gets back into what he dismissively calls his “old hobby”. Byakuran had always wondered how a bassist’s teenage self could end up time traveling… and the answer, he realizes with every idle computer program and toy Shoichi makes, is because Shoichi Irie is in fact incredibly intelligent. So intelligent that it seems a waste that he ever became a musician, a fact that he makes sure to pass along to his many other selves. This intelligence comes back to bite him when he returns to his high rise apartment after a nice long trip dealing with a minor emergency. It was nothing serious, just some minor complications one Federico Ferrino left behind in his death. Truly the Vongola had a lot of resources, to be such a bother even in death. Yet he finds them to be less of a bother than the sight that greets him once he steps into his apartment. Shoichi is curled up in an armchair that’s been forcibly turned so that it’s facing in the direction of the front door, knees digging against his chest. He jolts a little at the sound of the door, eyes going to Byakuran faster than a gunshot. Now now, what could have happened, he wonders? Byakuran rolls the question in his mind even as he carelessly drops his bags to the side, already making his way over to his interest like a good boyfriend would. “Stomach again?” he asks, reaching out to sweep his fingers up into Shoichi’s bangs. It’s been a while since the bassist has had to deal with his infamous stomach aches, brought out whenever he’s too tense, too nervous, too stressed. “Sho-chan, I didn’t realize you would miss me that much!” His hand is grabbed before he can fully pull it away, musically calloused fingers folded almost delicately around his own. Byakuran blinks, eyebrows raising, before he looks properly into Shoichi’s face. All the expressions which would normally be there- sulking aggravation, taut anxiety, restless worry- are completely absent. Instead, his brow is wound tight together, and there’s something… new to his eyes. Dark green is focused fully on him, steeled in a way he can’t quite recall ever viewing before. “Byakuran,” he says, desert grave quiet, “what do you do for a living?” Everyone makes mistakes on their first blind run, of course. Byakuran has made a couple, despite his various connections that are all to himself, and he generally doesn’t worry about it. This particular mistake is that he’s left Shoichi alone, guarded for but not watched, for far too long. With all the things Byakuran is getting up to, well, he doesn’t have full and complete of the world yet. News anchors will talk, radio personalities will gossip, and the internet churns so quickly with facts and facts that are twisted and facts which only have the name but not the definition. Shoichi has been busy. He’s been paying attention. It’s all he’s been able to do. Lying doesn’t really have a point here, not with how much Shoichi has pulled together. Besides, Byakuran has never really lied to him, has he? Shoichi doesn’t react well to that statement, but it’s true. He’s only been vague, never giving the whole story , only bits and pieces. Maybe he could do damage control, if he really tried. Byakuran doesn’t. It’s so much more fascinating to watch his interest yell and demand and accuse, arm sweeping out in scythe sweep of a gesture. Shoichi has never burned so bright, not in this universe, and Byakuran is enraptured by this glitch he’s made happen. They sleep in separate rooms for a while after that- Byakuran taking the lavish and comfortable master bedroom, Shoichi self-exiling himself to a sterile guest room that’s never once been touched. It only takes a couple of days before he breaks the barrier he’s erected, settling himself gingerly onto the couch besides Byakuran one evening. None of the lights are on yet, with only the setting sun illuminating Shoichi’s back from where he sits, eyes on him. “I’m sorry,” he tells him. “It was a lot to take in,” he says. “Can you just promise me that you’ll be honest with me from now on?” “Of course, Sho-chan,” Byakuran tells him, while promising no such thing. This, too, is a lie. Shoichi must know it as well. He promises nothing either, and he writes I’m sorry once again on a letter he leaves on the counter in their darkened home when Byakuran returns again one day. A surprising amount of his things are left behind, with only the most sensible of clothing that’s been taken, along with all the basic necessities of a healthy human such as toiletries. When Byakuran checks one of his bank accounts, he’s not surprised to find a lot of money withdrawn. While he could pursue his interest, he doesn’t. Instead, he carries out the end of this particular life, his particular run, all the while quite aware of how the patches of rebel forces which never cease to defy him are granted a sudden boost in knowledge. It doesn’t really matter, in the end. This reality is a bust, and he toys with the different ways to end it. Somewhere, out in the rebel hideouts that he systematically quashes, he’s certain Shoichi Irie dies… but he dies far away from Byakuran, out of his sight. It’s a “Bad End” if your love interest betrays you and dies. Byakuran passes along the message to Byakuran of everything he’s gone through. It would be embarrassing if this was the side quest that he missed, after all. Probably the problem Byakuran ran into, Byakuran muses to himself as he thinks over this particular set of alternate memories, is that Shoichi was a civilian kept in the dark for so long. Sure, he had been running around in all sorts of seedy bars in that universe, but being in the same vicinity as some two-bit thugs isn’t anything like dating a powerful mafia don who had blood soaked up to his knees. If he intervenes a little earlier… That sounds right. A slightly earlier intervention, nudging those morals a little further in the right direction, and Byakuran thinks that might finally help complete this little sub-plot. He just needs to get a little creative in when they meet. How they meet. When he meets Shoichi Irie, he’s not the flustered teenager that gave him this opportunity and he’s not yet the boneworn bassist who played in side alley bars. Instead, he’s seventeen and clearly frustrated with the world, or perhaps merely his place in it. Byakuran only needs a day to see how people take advantage of him. It's nothing so crass as outright bullying, not most of the time. Instead, they merely pile on expectations and requests onto him, disregarding his interests, disregarding anything else he might have on his plate. In a different way to that time in the bar, it’s easier than anything to slide his way into a friendship with him. Nudging him along towards what Byakuran wants for him… It’s a little more difficult to get the subtleties of that exactly right, and he spends a couple of lives dealing with that. It’s not a complete waste; he’ll need such skills for other people who aren’t Shoichi. The best way, he finds, is simply phrasing things as harmless pranks in high school, things to tease those who frustrate him so much, things he can build upon so steadily. Shoplifting is a little harder, not something that his Sho-chan really has the hand dexterity for, but it’s easier when he can frame their targets as absolute bastards who deserve it… or detach them so neatly from his life that they don’t really matter. What his real interest is, however, would be what he told himself from dating that tired and beaming bassist. It’s a waste to keep him as a petty thief, even if there is a kind of casual amusement in throwing stolen candy into Shoichi’s hair while he does his best to scowl instead of laugh. The good news is that he has dozens, hundreds, thousands of other selves knowledge at hand. It’s child play to talk tech with Shoichi, to convince him to stretch his intelligence right past the digital defenses of so many organizations and countries. From high school, to college, to them with degrees spilling out the secrets of the richest and most influential or sometimes holding it over their heads. It hardly takes anything at all to convince Shoichi to join his Gesso, this slowly budding and blossoming Millefiore. This should be it, he thinks. It took a try or four, but he’s finally got this route down. He thinks that all the way to the day he triumphantly comes back from his meeting with that little Giglio Nero heiress, satisfied from the box he has in his hands. “Ta daaaaa!” he sings as he enters the office where Shoichi is waiting. His interest looks pretty good in mafia black, he has to say, even when he’s clearly fiddled his tie right out of place and jumps what seems like a solid foot into the air. “The meeting went great, Sho-chan.” “I feel like you’d say that no matter what actually happened…” Still, he moves out of the way, letting Byakuran flop loosely into his chair. Shoichi slides his hands into his pockets, trying to seem calm, before he moves them out again to rub his palms against his legs. “Were you able to resolve things mostly peacefully?” Gamma’s fingers broke, one by one, feeling surprisingly like nothing for how long they’d clutched to his pool stick. Genkishi had to be skewered to the wall, bloody dripping from his mouth, simply to keep him out of the way. When Aria had finally conceded, she’d closed her eyes for a brief moment with a box keeping their hands joined together, and a smile had crept onto her face. “Oh, the things that will happen,” she’d said, eyes too blue, too strange. For a second, she’d almost looked human. “Mhm,” Byakuran says, because that’s the easy answer, and they have the Giglio Nero- what remains- on close watch. He won’t make a rookie mistake again, making it easy for Shoichi to stumble onto such a dark little thing. Setting the box down onto his desk, he flicks open the latch. The second Shoichi turns his back, Byakuran plans on getting nothing less than the absolute best replicas that he possibly can for the Mare Rings… but for now, there’s no harm in keeping them right in front of him. He has no idea when these were last touched, even by their mistresses, but the Mare Ring have a crystal clear shine to them that’s so smooth that not even water would stick. He’d slipped the Sky Ring back into its place after reveling in its quickly comfortable warmth, and it almost seems to glow again at his presence. In fact, it even seems to glow all the brighter than before. His eyelids dip just a little lower. “Amazing, right…?” He can feel Shoichi’s arm brush against his chair, nudging it a little bit. “All that worry, for some rings…” His voice isn’t into the disregarding tone it tries for, however. It’s even… dazed. Byakuran’s first thought is that he’s coming down from his anxiety high. That impression lasts for all of a single second before Shoichi’s hand reaches over from the side, drawn to the box, and Byakuran realizes that the Mare Sky Ring wasn’t glowing any brighter than it did when he first saw it. Yellow blends into orange so well. Shoichi burns bright yet again. The knowledge hits him like a bullet train, a feeling that he passes along the second he has the time to spare for it, and he almost doesn’t care that, in this world too, Shoichi once again slowly turns again, once again pokes his nose into something he shouldn’t have. It’s fine to lose that particular sidequest this time around, because he’s gotten a key bit of information that can potentially help in all the others. At the same time, it only makes what was once a silly little romance route gain so much more prominence to the main story that Byakuran can’t help but marvel as the flow of it. The Mare Rings can’t speak, can’t communicate, and yet Byakuran can’t help but feel as though they’re the most people-like things he’s dealt with ever since Before. Their preferences in wielders tend to be specific, although they can be flexible if no better choice presents itself. The Rain Ring tends to lean towards bright and malicious, people who can demonstrate a sense of mocking humor before they clean away the filth of the battlefield. In contrast, those with any sort of commendable patience draw in the Cloud Ring, and the Storm favors anyone with a shimmering energy beneath an otherwise… passive facade. The Sky Ring is his forever, in every single iteration of the universe that can possibly exist. The Sun longs for Shoichi. Every time. Without fail. Byakuran can understand why. Anyone would understand, he’s fairly sure, if they’d ever seen the way his eyes steel in resolution or the energy that burns from his body or the sheer brilliant gold of his flame. In worlds where he forgets, or where he slips up, or where there’s merely a spot of bad luck, the Arcobaleno Curse seeks out Shoichi for the intensity of his Flame. That happens rarely. Byakuran laid claim upon him first, after all. In one life, Byakuran decides to go for a change of pace. Not every romance route can be won through simple kindness. Sometimes, you have to get a little bit creative, or you have to push for a certain event to go off. Sometimes, a Good End is reprehensible in the cruelty it takes to get there. At least, for normal people. He draws the Gesso up as soon as he’s able, throws all of himself into making them a strong Family as quick as possible. Quick enough to have someone watching over Shoichi, make sure that he doesn’t drift too far from where Byakuran can see him. He goes through a fairly standard dull life, the few times Byakuran takes the time to check in on him- a brief flirt with paying a bass, graduating top of his class. Nothing to pay attention to. It’s after Shoichi’s first year of college that he instructs some of his people to kidnap him one night, when he’s on his way home from a concert of a band he likes and not expecting for a car to stop right besides him. It’s quick, silent, and completely professional. More than a few of his own must be wondering what Byakuran is doing… but that’s the case in every life he lives. All they have to do is listen to him as he plays a game so long and expansive that they can’t even begin to imagine it. There’s no reason to go straight into the harshest form of cruelty, not right away, not in this life. There are a lot of ways to twist a will, to shatter it and pull it together in some other shape entirely. Byakuran starts off with the kind of lodgings that would be perfect, if one were merely willing to ignore all the ways in which it’s a cage: sinfully soft furniture, nice lighting that can go from comfortably dim to softly warm, a bathroom large enough to be another bedroom, no windows, one entrance and exit, hidden cameras in more places than the obvious. Byakuran follows the advice of another life, and makes sure that there isn’t a kitchen or access to the outside world via electronics. Shoichi Irie, in every bit of his incarnations that Byakuran can remember, is always devilishly clever, after all. Even when he had been a bassist who’d skipped college, trapped in a cycle of debt and unfulfilling gigs. He’s also incredibly attractive, even now, disheveled in last night’s clothes, hair falling in a mess around his face, glasses askew on his face. One hand is curled against his stomach, a warning of the stomach aches that are to come, and his expression is twisted in such alarm that it stirs a heat inside of Byakuran’s chest. This isn’t one he’s indulged in yet. Not for the first time, he appreciates the ability to play with such a purposefully destructive game. “What do you want with me!?” Shoichi asks, sharp, panicked, and yet going right to the point. He doesn’t ask who Byakuran is, which is almost a shame. There are some amusing answers he could give there. And yet, he supposes this question is more important. At least, for someone in Shoichi’s position. “Now now!” He laughs, draping himself in one of the armchairs that are around. He practically sinks into it. Really, he hopes Shoichi comes to appreciate that much in the time that he keeps him here. “I’m not going to torture you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Not in this timeline, at any rate. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Byakuran Gesso, and it’s nice to meet you properly here. I’d like you to work for me.” Shoichi draws one leg up cautiously, foot digging into the mattress. What he’s prepared to do is anyone’s guess, only that he feels the need to be a little… steadier, perhaps, in case he needs to do something. The hand not clutching his stomach does similar. “This isn’t… exactly the normal way to get someone to work for you,” he says stiffly, and Byakuran’s heart flutters. There’s that Sun brilliance, hardening his eyes and burning him up from the inside out. He hardly had to push at all for it to appear, even in a situation like this. “What do you want me to work on, exactly?” “Oh, nothing that you aren’t already going to college for, Sho-chan.” The nickname makes him twitch a little bit, unaware as he is of how intimate they are long before he was born and long after he dies and even here in the present. They’re completely and utterly bound. He simply doesn’t know it. He will probably never know it, at least in most lives. “I’d like to pick your mind for the treasure trove of ideas I’m sure you have in there when it comes to technology. If you simply go along with it, you’ll find your time here to be quite nice!” Byakuran tilts his head to the side. “And if you cooperate, Sho-chan, then you’ll be out of here in no time at all. I’m positive we can work something out, don’t you agree?” The wary pull of his eyebrows downwards says Shoichi doesn’t believe him, which he shouldn’t. “I’m getting the impression that I don’t have a particular choice,” he says, still not easing up even the slightest. “Do I at least get the dignity of asking some questions…?” Byakuran crosses his legs and let his hands flow to the side in gesture. “All you like, Sho-chan!” He doesn’t promise he’ll tell the truth. “Then… Why me? I haven’t even- I don’t have a degree of any sort. I’m not even close to graduating.” The hand at his stomach moves upwards, digging into his chest. “Why kidnap a college student who’s probably not even knowledgeable enough for the kinds of things you might ask for? Aren’t there smarter technicians and engineers who could do what you want?” There aren’t. Byakuran knows this for a fact, knows that he would have stumbled upon them a long time ago if anyone had that ability. Yet no one had done what Shoichi had. No one had gone through time, no one had broken it so thoroughly as he had. Byakuran can’t even claim that honor yet, as much as it would amuse him to. No, he merely flows across the many timelines, the many universes where he exists. Shoichi is the one who reached out where he shouldn’t have, and Byakuran knows for a fact, after listening to him speak in the kinder timelines, that he can break even more if he really tries. The trick is to get him to really try. “I have utter faith in your potential,” is the answer Byakuran gives, grinning and flashing a wink to Shoichi. “But you don’t have to worry. Ask for anything, and I’ll make sure to provide it for you. Just knock, okay, Sho-chan?” He’s kept for a while longer, listening to question after question that Shoichi fumbles to pull out from his mind, and he’s not surprised when he almost immediately calls through on that 'knocking’ thing to start pulling in book after book to his room. Despite it being a simple non-answer, the line about 'potential’ is also fairly true. Byakuran passes along all sorts of little tasks for Shoichi to do, starting subtle at first with computer programs on an isolated channel that Shoichi never gets to keep. Then, various little quizzes, seeing if he can outdo what they already are using in the Gesso and Millefiore. Byakuran rarely delivers them himself. Why would he? That’s something for those far lower on the ladder who have nothing better to do, or at least nothing more important than Byakuran’s pursuit of this sidequest. Instead, Byakuran likes to visit Shoichi in the middle of his time. Sometimes it’s while he’s working through the latest task he’s been given, papers sprawled out all over the floor and a pile working up on the desk Shoichi does his best to remember to use. It’s a nice change of pace from the repetitive motions of running a mafia empire. Shoichi doesn’t take to it well at first. “Of- what? Of course I’m not,” Shoichi says, honesty stuttering out before he can stop himself the first time Byakuran outright asks. “I know your name and literally nothing else, and you’re just- is this a test?” His mouth screws up, eyes narrowed over them. “To check if I’m… I don’t know, cheating or something as I work on this?” When Byakuran bursts out laughing at him, a lobster of a blush spreads over his face in a heartbeat. “I told you before, didn’t I?” Byakuran says when he’s calmed down, sprawled out in an armchair. His head lolls to the side, lazy smile still in place. “I have full confidence in your abilities and potential, Sho-chan.” “Shoichi,” he mutters quietly, not really stopping the nickname. “The only reason I’m here is because I’m bored. Besides, you haven’t asked for a rubber duck yet. I thought it might help to bounce your stress off something~.” “Rubber ducks should be a little cuter,” Shoichi mumbles into his shirt, already ducking back down into his work while still a little bit red. It takes a little while for him to eventually start reciprocating Byakuran’s attempts at conversation, but what are a few visits in comparison to the eternity that Byakuran has? The multiple visions of eternity, in fact. So it doesn’t feel long at all before Shoichi begins to speak back to him, gesturing to a paper here and there as he spills out his train of thought or his frustrations on a certain aspect of his latest project. When he finally does that, the other visits Byakuran takes begin to go a little more smoothly as well instead of Shoichi sitting awkwardly in a chair as far away from Byakuran as possible while Byakuran does all the talking. He knows it’s not only his imagination when Shoichi begins to show a little more warmth in response to his visits. There aren’t many other options for him down in this windowless room, where time doesn’t feel real, where he can’t even sense time, and Byakuran is his only constant person. There’s a certain thrill in indulging in such a thing, at least for this life. One day, Shoichi doesn’t fight against the way Byakuran presses up behind him while he’s reading, white-clad arms lazily winding around him. He only glances up at him from the corner of his eyes, thumb worrying at the page in the book he’s been working through. “I don’t exactly have to point my room is bugged, right?” he says stiffly, a little bit of red burning at his ears. “Is there any shame at all that your- everything is being recorded while you’re doing this?” “When you’re the kind of person I am, you end up being watched all the time anyway, Sho-chan,” he laughs, directly into Shoichi’s ear as to watch him shudder. He’s not the only person in the world who has such a reaction, and yet Byakuran can’t help feeling more satisfied when Shoichi does it. That’s the thrill of having a favorite character, he supposes. Everything he does, Byakuran can’t help but hyperfocus on. “Now, what kind of things are you thinking of that would get you so worked up about being watched? And in relation to me as well?” The tone of his voice says everything that doesn’t get a word ascribed to it. The blush spreads from his ears to the rest of his face quicker than the heartbeat it takes to provide that much blood. Byakuran never stops the cameras from recording… He only goes back once he’s done indulging in Shoichi’s body to cut those particular parts out and save them for his own records. More interested in this indulgence than the rest of the videos, and relaxed in what has to be his victory this time, Byakuran misses the little things that will give Shoichi away in other universes. The way he begins to sleep more reliably in his bed instead of falling asleep by accident anywhere else. How his hands duck underneath his pillows, still so “absentminded” as to be holding his glasses inbetween his fingers. Byakuran learns later how the sound of his apparent snoring hid the sharpening of his glasses frames against metal frames. Byakuran had made sure they were metal, so that Shoichi couldn’t use the wood chips of such a frame for whatever his brilliant mind could come up with. A pity that ingenuity works with everything at its disposal no matter the material. In one universe, he punctures his own throat, slides the needle inbetween the rows of his own lungs, and chokes on his blood before medical services can pull him back from the brink. In one universe, he breaks through the system keeping the door shut and makes a break for it. He succeeds, or he fails, or he does both in the end, but it’s a loss on Byakuran either way. “All you have to do is give yourself to me,” he says one day, one universe, popping open a bag of gummy bears. It wasn’t his first choice, but the little gas station he’d stopped at before getting here hadn’t had any marshmallow treats, and, well, as long as it’s sweet, maybe he doesn’t care as much as some might think. The same could be said for how Shoichi has been forcefully tied to a plain metal chair, handcuffs biting into his wrists and rope binding his legs. To keep him from doing anything reckless, a gag keeps his mouth pried open. Tears and spit alike drip down his face, splatter against his pants… His eyes are still so very stubbornly burning. A sort of fondness warms his veins, and Byakuran pops one gummy bear into his mouth before he reaches downwards. Fingernails catch along knots in Shoichi’s hair, curls always so thick when he’s first woken up in the morning and hasn’t had a chance to compose himself yet. Byakuran is intimately familiar with all the little quirks like that which make up Shoichi Irie. It’s a consequence of playing the same route, over and over and over again. For all the bad ends he’s steadily accumulating, Byakuran doesn’t regret it. “Although I am curious,” he continues, drifting his hand downwards until he can curl his fingers around the back of Shoichi’s head and guide his gaze up to him. “What made you change your mind like this, Sho-chan? What made you so desperate that you’d want to risk killing yourself, or run away from here? I like to think I’ve been taking care of you so well that there can’t possibly be a problem. You can have just about everything you’d ever ask for.” It’s only the two of them in the room, all guards dismissed without a second thought. They’d only protest if they saw Byakuran reach down and undo the gag keeping Shoichi so quiet. Free of the obstruction, Shoichi takes a quick second to cough and catch his breath. Trapped in this place, at the end of the rope, he’s clearly lost some of that quaint politeness which he’d grown up with, because he turns his head slightly to the side and spits to clear his mouth. Byakuran supposes he should marvel that it wasn’t directed right at him. “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, voice a little raspy, unused. “You brought me here in the first place because… I’m so smart, right? That’s what you told me. And… did you think I wouldn’t put everything together? Realize what all my work was adding up to, even if you never showed me the final product, or the result?” He gives a hard swallow, head bumping against Byakuran’s palm once again. “It’s not like I want to believe it…. but what else am I supposed to think, when you keep me trapped in here?” Teeth grinding against each other, he grits out, “I don’t even know if my own family is alive!” They aren’t. That thought idly occurs to Byakuran right as Shoichi says it, because he vaguely remembers glancing at a report he’d gotten of a little bit of a scuffle against Hibari-Kai over in Japan which had taken out a good dozen of lives or more, and he’d seen the Irie family listed among the deceased. It hadn’t occurred to him that it was anything important. It still isn’t, he supposes. What’s the point of saying it here and now? Idly, he scrapes his nails along the back of Shoichi’s scalp and watches him go utterly still. “And would you return if you got a brief chance outside, Sho-chan?” he asks, amused. Shoichi’s silence is an answer all its own, and Byakuran moves on without really giving him a moment to spare for a potential lie. “You really need to go with the flow, ha. I think you’d find you would have a much easier time of things if you did." Shoichi swallows again, throat bobbing. His stare doesn’t waver. "Your flow." Byakuran tilts his head to the side and smiles. "It’s the same thing in the end.” “If I refuse?” “Then I’ll just have to persuade you otherwise.” Persuasion, in this instance and a few others, meaning that he spends some of his time breaking Shoichi where he can. Sometimes physical. Sometimes mental. He already has a good deal of factors on his side for it all, really, from the oppressive atmosphere of never even knowing what time it is and having not known for a great deal of time, to the nice little case of Stockholm Syndrome he’s nestled right into Shoichi’s chest. That latter part he makes sure to especially cultivate. Every broken limb, he helps nurture back to full and proper health again. Every sickness Shoichi catches, whether purposefully encouraged or which comes along as a side effect of all the stress, he takes care of. Even when he threatens to drown Shoichi, serene moments where he holds him down by the throat and watches his mouth work helplessly with every bubble of hair that works upwards, he’s the same person who tends to him in the aftermath. He dries him off, checks that his lungs are still working right, work that a medical professional could be proud of. Pain and pleasure are two things that are so closely related. Fear and hatred and love and obsession, Byakuran thinks, are probably very much the same. If they are, then maybe he’ll be able to make this work as he’s been trying to across multiple lives. It takes him around a year to look down into Shoichi’s dull eyes and realize that he’s broken him and, unlike so many other things in the world, there’s no possibility of pulling this back together into something whole again. The Mare Sun Ring longs to be on Shoichi’s fingers. Byakuran thinks he can relate, wanting a thing that continues to not want you back. Spoiled kindness isn’t working, and neither does abject cruelty. If that’s how it is, than Byakuran can’t possibly imagine what he’s doing wrong in this area. Still, in the end, it’s only a sidequest. A very important sidequest, but not a necessary one. The Mare Sun Ring might want Shoichi Irie out of every other pawn in the current world it exists in, but it knows how to settle for things, too. Shoichi might be its type, might have the most brilliantly burning Sun Flame anyone could imagine, but there are others who, while not the ideal personality, have a Flame that can satisfy the conditions of a Mare Ring. He’s not giving up or anything. That would be embarrassing for someone who’s playing the game so determinedly like he is. Rather, he’s… merely taking a break. Of course, it seems like even when he’s taking a break to focus on other aspects of the game, he still ends up paying attention to Shoichi whenever he ends up crossing his path. Even if the route is harder than expected, Byakuran can still enjoy some aspects of it, especially when it’s not so pressing on his overall run. Shoichi is still surprisingly pleasant to indulge, especially when he’s so early on in the stage of things that the criminal aspect of everything aren’t so obvious. It’s easiest to enjoy Shoichi then, trading food and sharing earbuds to the same music and talking about how fragile and sturdy the world is in equal measure. When it’s only theories, it’s easier to get Shoichi to play along with it. In a way that Byakuran is slowly starting to get used to across his many lives, he inevitably turns on him sooner or later. Sometimes a country’s government- usually Japan, occasionally Italy, America when it’s not a trashfire- will rope him in as an agent to keep track of him. Byakuran has to admit those lives are a little bit amusing, and he can never help playing up the cliche of it all when he can. The powerful mafia boss playing cat and mouse games with the determined cop, or secret agent, or general law enforcement… While he takes some time to relax in how he’ll next properly approach the Shoichi situation, he doesn’t worry about the end result, and merely enjoys the journey. There’s something to be said for an approach like that, especially when Byakuran uses Shoichi’s own handcuffs against him to pin him against the wall, teasing him about the lengths they’ve gone through with each other, and the sexual tension is thick enough for a chainsaw. Other mafia Families clue in to the sheer skill that Shoichi Irie actually possesses, once every few lives, especially when the world begins to advance technologically so quickly that they have to start paying attention to engineers and those who are up and coming. Those realities are sometimes a little bit disappointing, because the destruction of the rest of the Families, especially those who have connections to the Vongola, are always the first ones he crushes underneath his heel. It’s a pity that he doesn’t get more of a chance to to with Shoichi in those lives. Oh well. He’ll always have other rounds, other lives, other realities. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t really matter. Then there are the timelines where Shoichi takes things into his own hands. This world has already been broken, shattered, vast expanses of ruined cities beyond the walls of his little fortresses where he experiments with his little civilization games. Here, people either submit, or they risk the destruction beyond that doesn’t deal kindly to those trying to carve out a life there. So with that said, he really has to marvel at the underground labs which Shoichi has created for himself. In the places where his people haven’t stormed through, covering the floor in dirt and dust of debris coating the walls, it’s impeccably clean. One of the few, perhaps the only, places where the grimy destruction of the world hasn’t seeped in. Befitting of such a brilliant engineer and technician, a defiled treasure trove of equipment fills the sparse amount of rooms that make up the shelter, and one has already completely self destructed with its remains utterly destroyed beneath the rubble. If they can recover enough, Byakuran has no doubt that the impact on numerous worlds would be immense. “If”… being the key word in that sentence. Shoichi is a genius in any of the worlds that bear his beautiful existence. For all that he can create, he knows exactly how to destroy it again. Almost more than Byakuran, Shoichi Irie has the perfect ability to completely destroy things, and yet he so rarely does it, save in moments like these where it’s to deny him everything he possibly can. His men corner Shoichi in a room that could, in some cases, be arguably titled as a bedroom. Byakuran has a closet that’s bigger. The mattress on the floor barely offers any substantial protection between the body on top of it and the hard ground beneath. The body on top of it has pressed himself back up against the wall with guns pointed at his face giving him no real option, and his hands are held up with the knuckles bumping into plaster. This one looks a real mess, Byakuran marvels, and he takes his time slowly looking over the engineer who’s been tirelessly and fruitlessly attempting to undermine him from beneath his very nose. A life of living outside of civilization has clearly taken its toll on Shoichi. What clothes are out here are basically as good as trash, and that includes the denim jacket on him that’s at least two times too big with more holes in it than Shoichi’s hopes must have by now, and the loose black tank top beneath it is hardly any better. That his actual pants and boots manage to fit, for all their worn nature, is quite impressive. Figuring out glasses in the wastelands has apparently not been a priority for Shoichi, because he’s squinting hard towards the armed men who can very easily take his life. It’s an action that almost makes him look more defiant than tired, than worn down to the very bone. He’s even disregarded scissors, possibly the most hilarious thing, because a good portion of his hair (definitely not all of it) has been pulled into a very lopsided ponytail near the right side of his head. Lazily, Byakuran raises up a hand to dismiss his men. “Go look over the technology here,” he orders them, voice deceptively airy. Maybe it’s because of that which has them hesitate. Byakuran doesn’t, not when he levels them with a cold gaze full of threat, and that gets them moving again a hurry. He waits patiently for the sound of heavy bootsteps to be as much in the distance as they can get before he steps forward to take up the whole doorway. “Hey there, Sho-chan. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” With the absence of armed guards, Shoichi collapses back a little bit, although his hands stay right where they are. It would be a gesture of anyone else in the same situation. “Yeah,” he says, voice following the same slump of his spine. “Yeah, it has. Years.” It didn’t take much for this particular world to crumble apart, after all. And yet, still he struggles to preserve it. The defiance is in more than the glare, now, and Byakuran marvels at it. Hands in his pockets, Byakuran inclines his head to his old friend. “The offer is still on the table,” he reminds him. “Don’t you think that would be so much more appealing, Sho-chan?” He even laughs a little bit. “You’d be able to have a shower and everything! Maybe see things more clearly, hm?” Shoichi is filthy, thinner than in most timelines, and clearly has worked so hard that he’s not had the chance to sleep often. Even with every bit of that weighing down on him, he still slumps his shoulders with an annoyed huff. “Was that… an actual joke about my eyeglasses? At a time like this…” Even when everything is going at it’s absolute worst, he can still get that kind of reaction out of him. Byakuran laughs once more. “Well, it’s the truth, too!” Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, Byakuran puts about the same amount of effort into the way his eyelids dip. “It’s all the truth,” he says, which is a lie. “The Sun Ring would be perfect on your finger,” he says, which is the truth. He’d left it back in the hands of the Sun Guardian he’d chosen for this world, once it had become clear that he would not accomplish his goal in this reality either. That meant, technically, there was no reason to make a claim on Shoichi in this world either. What purpose could he serve, besides potentially passing along more information to Byakuran in another world? And yet still he wants it. Wants Shoichi. Again and again, he’s courted and broken and threatened countless Shoichis, all for naught. Even if this world is useless…. He can only imagine the rush of satisfaction that would drown him if he managed to successfully capture one of the few individuals in all of his many existences who fascinates him so. Sometimes, in some places, he even almost ponders if Shoichi Irie is more his Player 2 than a love interest whose Good End he’s tirelessly chasing across numerous different realities. Only a thought experiment in the end, that sort of thing. There’s a reason he ponders it more in the late night while some version of him drifts off to sleep, or turns over the idea while his body runs through the motions of a shower. If there is actually a Player 2 against his campaign in one of the many worlds, he’s yet to meet them, for one thing, and he’s fairly certain that there would be more of a fight than all of Shoichi’s desperate struggles. Surely he must know it too, but all Shoichi does is let out a slow exhaled that scrapes up against lung and throat alike. Typical for someone who has dared to live out here in desolated wastelands. “I bet it would,” he says, a cough forcing a pause into existence. It’s too much for a body that’s become so thin and weak. “But my answer hasn’t changed, you know.” “So stubborn, Sho-chan.” It hardly takes a step before he’s within the room, and filling up a good portion of the space. A mattress can barely fit in here, so even with so little movement he’s already right between Shoichi’s legs. “It might be better for you over all if you just went along with it.” Smiling, he tilts his head to the side. He has no doubt that it’s as empty as he feels. “Everyone has a lot of questions for you back at my base that they’ll get out of you one way or another.” “Do threats actually ever help to convince anyone to do anything?” They don’t, and they never would with Shoichi. His lives have connected well enough that he is well aware of how Shoichi will stay true, even when he’s bleeding out, slow, alone. There’s always something beautiful about the way that fire burns right to the final ember of his existence. Byakuran thinks he could watch it for an eternity, if only he didn’t have the main story to get through first. Regardless, he leans down and forwards until he can pull Shoichi up effortlessly to his feet. Even with his clothing, he hardly weighs a thing, especially in comparison to Byakuran with immeasurable power behind him that could still grow so much bigger. “I thought you should at least know when you’re making a mistake,” he says, watching as Shoichi’s hands finally swing downwards. His fingers shake, quietly but violently. More from anxiety than ever any fear, Byakuran suspects, and always more exhaustion than anxiety. “We’re friends, Sho-chan, so, really, this is the least I could do!” This close, and Shoichi doesn’t really need to squint anymore to see Byakuran clearly. Weariness draws them a little further open, yet his gaze doesn’t shy away from Byakuran’s. In the world above them, in the world at large, so much has been dragged into ash and filth until brown and gray cover it as thick as any blanket. Even in places far away from civilization, the color seems to stick thicker than smog. Here, Shoichi’s eyes are still a deep green, so deep as to be untarnished jade, an oasis refusing impossible odds, poison that has burrowed past skin and flesh and blood and into Byakuran’s bones. “Friends, huh,” he says, voice a breath, an invitation. “At the very least,” Byakuran murmurs before he accepts it, before he leans in and sweeps up those lips in a long slow kiss. Shoichi doesn’t push him away or, considering the atrophy of his body, make so much as an attempt. No struggle, no kick, no protest, not even so much as a bite. If anything, he actually leans in, palms pressing against the wall as if he’s chasing something, too. Only a centimeter keeps them separated when their lips finally part. Against all odds, the fire in Shoichi’s eyes seems to burn all the harder. Byakuran know the answer even before he wastes any breath on its opposite. “It’s still waiting for you." He’s still waiting for him. A kiss has hardly done anything for Shoichi’s chapped lips, the breath which rustles out from between them drying that brief wet respite. It’s hardly done anything for that look in his eyes, either. "Well, it’ll probably have to keep waiting.” Byakuran watches the muscles in his throat stick and bob, struggling for even a simple swallow. “There’s nothing else for me to do in this world. There’s no point.” On the technical aspect, he’s right, of course. The Tri-ni-sette cannot be completed in this world, even if he were to include Shoichi’s perfect brilliant flame to the Mare set. Everything Byakuran does in this particular world is only for his own amusement right now, even if that means dismantling society chunk by chunk, or seeing how far a group of people can be pushed before they shatter into pieces. Even Shoichi isn’t different from this. If he were to finally complete his route in this world, of all worlds, what would he do then? If this was Shoichi the bassist, he could have kept him sweet and separate from the dirty business of a world collapsing in on itself with his goading, could have ducked into their not-so-little apartment and played a more domestic game. If this was Shoichi the student, he could fill his spare time molding him into something else, treat him customizable, put together all the pieces of a broken man until he wasn’t quite whole but certainly together. If this was Shoichi the criminal… If he had stayed… Well. There’s no world where Shoichi has ever stayed by Byakuran’s side as he’s reworked the world into something entirely different. It’s simply not a part of the route. Byakuran accepts this easily, because he’s had to dozens of times before, in dozens of other incarnations. All he does is chuckle a little bit. “So pessimistic, Sho-chan!” “Optimistic, actually.” That’s certainly a surprise, and Byakuran has to pause, still smiling but with his eyebrows raised a little bit now. Shoichi grins at him, with just enough teeth to be a threat. He’s never felt threatened in all of his lives now, not since he was a kid in some life forgotten a long time ago, and yet that doesn’t take away the intent. “How long do you think you can keep this going, Byakuran-san? How many worlds do you think you can completely dominate?” “Ha. Well, Sho-chan, I think the answer should be fairly obvious, shouldn’t it?” He inclines his head back towards the door, hands preoccupied with Shoichi’s weight. “If I can do this much to this kind of world, then I doubt there are many others that will be as much of a challenge.” The real challenge is in completing everything, in putting together the exact right variables that will give him all of the Tri-Ni-Sette. The real challenge is in completing everything, including finally keeping Shoichi Irie at his side. Despite this fact, Shoichi doesn’t stop grinning, although some strength has drained from it. All his fire can’t give him the energy that his physical body lacks from little sleep and about as much food. “Well,” he says, “we’ll see about that. But nothing lasts forever, Byakuran-san. No one does.” And he grits his teeth together… and something cracks. Later on, his doctors and researchers will marvel at the fake tooth layered over one of his real ones that had laid within Shoichi’s mouth. Such a thing would be delicate and tricky work even as a mere piece of art, yet Shoich had gone somewhere a little deeper. Literally, he’d gone deeper, apparently digging into old forgotten Estraneo strongholds and the secrets that had been abandoned a long time ago. An interesting invention- one of many, across many worlds, many mistakes- had been research into warping the body with the use of Sun flames via a set of specialized modified fangs. Creating a whole new jaw would have been impossible for even Shoich’s genius, at least with everything else he’d stacked up on top of his plate, and, considering the layout of the world, he’d probably never be able to get the necessary requirements for giving his body such base animalistic characteristics… But he didn’t need to. All Shoichi Irie had needed was the base concept, the base technical aspects that could help active a Sun Flame within his body without the use of a Ring and change some internal trigger. Sun Flames are activation. The Sun is energy. Too much energy, heart beating so fast as to burst, lungs quicker than the air they can absorb, mind falling apart from energy and crashing in on itself… They’ll marvel at it all, the people he sends to investigate this, and a few will ponder if they can use this sort of technology to keep a tight rein on anyone beneath them, even if there will have to be obvious changes depending on the kind of Flame that one primarily has. Byakuran will let them ponder and experiment, because of course he will. In a world without any real goal, any real meaning to continue this particular save, he might as well, right? Yet he’ll never go on to use their findings, not in the way they intend, not even in other worlds. In the moment, in that underground bunker where Shoichi Irie lived out his last days frantically working on something that could never possibly have any meaning, Byakuran can only watch the way he jolts suddenly with an exhale so sharp that he breathes out blood… and then he goes limp. Byakuran doesn’t smile. He can’t even act surprised. All he can really do, after a quiet moment of staring at a corpse, is lower it slowly back down onto the mattress he’s slept on for who knows how long. Next time, then. If nothing else, he’ll always have next time. “Byakuran-san, please, pay attention, I need you to have full understanding of the Merone Base, okay?” “I am paying attention,” he says, lips lilting up in a smile. It’s not wholly a lie. He’s always listened to Shoichi in multiple realities, even if he hasn’t listened to him on some occasions. So he’s intimately familiar with many ideas that Shoichi has brought up, some of them more solid in most realities than others. The best realities for this sort of thing are the handful where Shoichi’s life has him meet someone born on an entirely different little island, separated from Japan by an entire continent. Byakuran doesn’t really mess with the workers on the lower end of things, which Spanner definitely qualifies as despite his own mechanical genius, but he keeps an eye on anything that is prone to influence Shoichi. In the universes where Shoichi Irie and the aptly dubbed “Spanner” meet, Shoichi almost always comet collides into his talent with technology. Whether those are universes where Shoichi temporarily joins him… That’s a little more in the air. A coin flip, honestly, one of those things that is practically prayed to like the RNG in a gacha phone game. That such existences are also the ones where Shoichi falls in love with another, where he burns so bright in a different direction, is something Byakuran is pretty sure he’s not jealous about. Why would he be? That happens in the occasional RPG, where your companions fall for each other if you never make a move towards them. Byakuran thinks of such occurrences, of such lives he’s lived with different lovers himself, and then stops thinking of them. For this existence? This one in particular has Spanner working deep in the machinations of the Millefiore, not inclined to a leadership position that would take him away from the robotics that he loves so much. And Shoichi, in this one… “Could you at least look at me when trying to feed me that lie?” Byakuran laughs again, shoulders shaking a little, before he rolls his head back along the couch to look at him upside-down. Shoichi the the Right Hand Man, the inevitable betrayer, stares right back at him before heaving out a sigh. Theoretically, he’s supposed to be clad in Millefiore lily white at all times, especially when dealing with official business here in Byakuran’s very own expansive office. Yet it’s a testament to the privilege Shoichi possesses that he can be half out of it already, revealing not a slick suit or combat ready tank top but one of his any ratty and worn band tees. If any of their subordinates caught sight of Shoichi in such a state, it would likely only further fuel the rumors Byakuran knows are out there, that Shoichi Irie slipped into his bed long before he slipped into one of the Millefiore uniforms. In some ways, they might almost be right, just never in the way they’d ever think to think. If only Shoichi would want him enough to try and seduce him, and more than the simple fact that such a thing would be a hilarious experience. No matter the many different worlds, there’s always some… core to these characters. And it is a core part of Shoichi Irie that he’d never really be what one could call “seductive”. “I’m looking,” he drawls, long and low, and something about all of it clearly has something to do with the way Shoichi jolts and his mouth twists. He doesn’t blush, apparently old enough to have restraint in some area even if not all of them, but Byakuran can recognize the little things like that. The Cheshire Cat smile on his face only widens. “What, Sho-chan?” “Byakuran-san, you’re…” A huff pops out of him and he strides over closer. “You know what, nevermind.” “Now now!” Byakuran laughs, reaching behind him to pull Shoichi closer once he’s in reach until his arms are folding over his shoulders and he can better see the schematics his supposed right hand is fiddling with. Still he keeps his fingers slipped through those reddish brown curls. They’re soft, comforting. A reminder that, at this stage in the game, he can still enjoy the little occurrences. Those are the kinds of things which help keep a person playing over and over again. “I encourage complete and total honesty in my subordinates, Sho-chan. It’s not good to bottle things up inside, either!” For all of Byakuran’s power- the physical where he’s become steadily good enough in close combat, the political and social where he could destroy a person’s life with a single message, the flames of his which burn through the barriers of separation and the barriers of flesh- For all of that, Shoichi in every iteration never seems to falter enough. He always manages to drum up a look of faint unimpressed exasperation, regardless of his situation. Byakuran likes the one Shoichi is wearing right now, the type where his fondness softens all of the harder edges until his affection bleeds through. If it ever becomes a dam, Byakuran suspects that will be one of the times when he’s won. “You only say those sorts of things,” Shoichi mutters, “because you find it funny when I get pissed off about things such as Glo Xinia and get petty.” “I don’t say it only because of that!” he says, even as he laughs. He laughs because it’s true, and he laughs at the ways it’s not, and because he’ll enjoy these moments where he can be with Shoichi with the Mare Sun Ring on his finger almost fake enough to make him think that this is a perfect run. But he’s still waiting for that inevitable betrayal. There is always some core part, isn’t there? Shoichi’s core has never made him take the final step into staying by Byakuran’s side. Shoichi the Double Agent is a new one, although that only makes things a little more interesting. It also explains a lot, honestly, from how Shoichi had insisted on being able to take care of this younger Vongola with no reinforcements, to how he had kept their block against the Ten Year Bazooka’s effects so close at hand. Byakuran has to hand it to him- he could have been a world class actor in another world. Opposing him outright, or a heel turn at the last moment, those are the choices he’s used to. Yet he’d forgotten, in his apathy, that there was indeed a third option when it came to Shoichi Irie. There was nothing ever stopping him from going along with Byakuran’s plans while readying a knife for his back the whole while. Faintly, he wonders if he would have bothered to stop any bit of Shoichi’s plot, at least in this world. Probably not. All of his selves need to ignore at least one thing or go along with one plot if only to see how that might affect the timeline relevant to a completely different self. It’s enlightening, too, listening to Shoichi explain the entire situation for the benefit of the younger Tsunayoshi Sawada’s group. While he likes to torment his many opponents with his supposed omniscience, Byakuran knows his abilities far better than anyone else. Certainly, he’s far closer to the very concept of omniscience than any other human would normally be… but he’s not quite there yet. If he knew everything, if he had the walkthrough guide to the game of his life, then he would have accomplished his main goal a thousand lifetimes ago instead of having it vex him so much. No, he only knows as much as any aspect of himself knows and shares with the rest of himself. He can’t be in multiple places at once, or, rather, he can, but they’re so detached as to something have no bearing on one another. Every life is its own, even as every life is him. So, up until this point as he patiently takes in the meeting of his foes and Shoichi, he can’t ever have imagined that Shoichi the Underground Engineer had been thinking of this when he had questioned Byakuran’s ability to continue the game. It’s a brilliant play, a reality breaking move to match his own… and all he can do is smile, smile, smile. The inclusion of a love interest for the main character can really drag a game down, or raise it up to something so popular as to be overwhelming. A rushed and poorly thought out romance can dock a point or two from a review, while a truly heartbreaking or varied one can be the main reason why anyone even touches it. Once upon a time, he had thought that Shoichi Irie had been just a minor side quest. Enjoyable enough on its own, sure, but no more than delving into a cave during a fantasy game for some quest or another. Entertaining in a mindless fashion. Yet even now, even without the Mare Sun’s quiet intense longing for a finger that won’t ever slip into it, he thinks that was foolish of himselves. Shoichi was never so simple as a minor side quest. He was as vital a part of the main storyline as any party member, as any guiding NPC, as any fridged lover. Byakuran wonders how he’ll die this time. Shoichi Irie doesn’t die. Oh, he certainly does a lot of things that would logically lead to the death of most other people who attempted to do the same. He volunteers to be on the frontlines, despite lacking box and Ring both, staring Byakuran straight in the eyes as he says it. He helps control a moving tank of a headquarters to defend himself even when he’s being shot at. He removes himself from that tank, despite the metal being the best object of defense available to him, and forces exhausted legs to keep moving. He looks at the most powerful person in all of existence and makes demands of him despite the fact that he can’t even get up on his own two fee without assistance. All the while, he burns. Byakuran basks in it, even as he refuses to let this particular part of the game go on any longer and denies all Shoichi would want for. This has always been a game between them, more than even the Vongola that so often seem to have a tendency of being his biggest obstacle in so many worlds. So, more than Tsunayoshi Sawada, more than the one of two remaining Arcobaleno in the world, more than anyone else, he savors the look of desperate frustrated outrage on Shoichi’s face. Out of his list of things he wants the most in the world, it’s not at his highest shelf, only perhaps in third place, and yet that’s more than good enough. Having that burning and sheering brightness focused on him alone will always place even when not in first. Of course…. When first rolls around… When Yuni reveals herself, reveals that very puzzle Byakuran has been tearing over in so many places and times and lives, well, every gamer wants to get first place. Byakuran forgets him, save for the briefest flicker of a thought that he ought to thank him in one life or another for helping make this to be the run that finally succeeds. Loss is a new feeling, in more ways than one. He’s lost his battle, and his war, fire stripping away flesh from bone, bone from existence. He’s lost the game. He’s even, and especially, lost his sense of self as those flames do more than be rid of the physical. They sever him, completely, utterly, the changing of one blood red sky to something softer and quieter, and he’s never released how much was bearing down on his mind until it’s all been stripped away from him. In the last few seconds where he still exists- only himself, this self, this Byakuran Gesso who has lead this Millefiore family to where it is today in this very moment- there’s so much space to simply… think. On a lot of things. On the very Player 2 that the Cervello once told him about, that Aria knew about with those amused deep eyes of hers, that a starving man in a lab cleaner than he was plotted so hard to bring into creation. On if perhaps this was perhaps a tester’s way of playing the game, but not how it was to be played. On if he had only been wistful when he’d seen a face twisted in quiet despair from beyond their little arena. Next time. He wonders if there’ll be a next time. “Just…. don’t? Alright? Can we please just, stop? I would appreciate it if you could stop. Just… stay in bed and don’t start a fight with the three other absurdly powerful people that are in this hospital.” Shoichi (the teenager, the young genius, thrice lived) tucks Byakuran into the hospital bed so securely like he thinks cotton will be enough to stop really anyone from doing anything. Byakuran lets him, and only partially because he’s surprisingly wore out. This, too, is a new experience, different from the many memories that still overwhelm him from other lives he knows but hasn’t lived. Then again, none of the lives that he’d lived had ever focused on anything but that one, singular goal. He’s never gotten to experience what it’s felt like to be shot at with full strength by one of the Arcobaleno, or seen just how much power the Vindice had been hiding beneath their dark coats for so long. Not in many lives has he gotten to be so close to Shoichi like this, watching a face much younger than what he’s used to crumple up in an exhausted exasperation that apparently never aged a single bit since the day he was born. It’s a brand new hospital room that he’s been moved to, now, and it’s completely empty save for the two of them. Everyone else who’d been present, those who would have been his Millefiore in another life, another future, have been looped into clean up efforts on account of the fact that none of them are so gravely injured like he is. Even Bluebell, although he’s fairly confident that she’ll do more playing than helping alongside the new friend she’d made as she’s been steadily absorbed into the Giglio Nero. That’s been slowly happening with all of them, he’s noticed quietly, and that’s probably for the better. He might not have the walkthrough guide for life- perhaps never had it- but he’s seen enough clips to know that they’d find nothing and neither would he if they stuck with him in the same path that he went down in one future that’s now ceased to exist for himself. The person at his bedside right now must know this as well, and yet. “I don’t make any promises,” he tells Shoichi, smiling as the teenager slumps into a chair. He doesn’t look as bad as he could be, because Byakuran has seen him go through the full spectrum of destroyed and devastated and depressed…. but he does look dead tired, bags under his eyes better suited for the grave and his hair messy from lack of sleep or care. The frames of his glasses smack into his knuckles when he reaches up beneath them to rub at his eyes. “I really wish you would.” Hands dropping down to his lap, he shifts awkwardly in his seat and glances back toward the closed door where armed guards are waiting just outside. For all his effect on the various aspects of reality, for the sheer potential of what he can do, Byakuran is always being watched. Yuni has accepted his assistance for this latest disaster, of course, but she’s surprisingly clever. That’s how she’d waited so patiently in another future, getting the Cervello into the perfect position to grant her access to the exact right place at the exact right time. Similarly, she’d agreed and complied with the Vongola when they’d requested surveillance on him. Byakuran doesn’t blame them. He’s not sure he’s still entirely attached to a lot in the world to do things like levy blame at anyone for just about any reason. Shoichi is a direct contrast in that he doesn’t even remotely belong here, and everyone knows it. Everyone on Tsunayoshi Sawada’s side is a part of the Vongola officially now, with even the actual toddler being related to another mafia Family. The Varia, well, they don’t need any introduction to those who are a part of this life. The same can be said for Mukuro Rokudo’s lot, all criminals in their own right, and every single one of the Arcobaleno are wanted for their skills in both ways that can mean. Shoichi Irie is only a middle schooler at a good school whose family has been told that he was going to a tutor who could refer to him a good college while, the last some nights, he’s been involved in the life and death battles of overpowered criminal organizations and helping build a giant super robot that most college students could only dream of. If he wanted to wash his hands of everything, then he would have at least a 50% chance of success with how soft hearted the Vongola, Giglio Nero, and Cavallone could all be. Yet here he is, one heel bobbing up and down through the air down to the floor while his hand remains loosely curled over his stomach. “I’ve killed you, you know,” Byakuran says casually, stretching his fingers along the too-clean sheets of his bed. From the corner of his eye, he can see Shoichi’s leg promptly freeze its jiggling. “In a lot of different timelines.” Even if it wasn’t directly, well, his hand was always buried deep in that particular pie. It takes a long few seconds before Shoichi remembers to breathe. With his exhale, the invisible strings keeping his body upright seem to vanish and he slumps forwards. His hands curling into that curly hair are a sight Byakuran is intimately familiar with. “I know, Byakuran-san,” he says, polite even after all of this, across multiple realities. Polite even he sounds as though he would rather be having anything but this kind of conversation, preferably in a bed of his own somewhere. Well, with how their first meeting in this particular universe had involved Shoichi yelling at everyone else about how he wasn’t to be trusted, it’s sort of a given that he knows. Regardless. “I thought you might need a reminder,” he replies, head falling back a little further into his pillow. Despite how long people can end up staying, hospital pillows really are garbage, he’s come to find. Even when the mafia is involved. And a little bit of the yakuza. Shoichi’s fingers keep sliding further backwards, catching tangles and tugging free of them until he can rest them curved over the back of his neck. “Thanks for that,” he deadpans. As with many worlds, Byakuran seems to have a talent for getting rid of that patience, even in the times where Shoichi never holds it against him. With that, his head drops, glasses threatening to bounce right off of his face. It occurs to him, then, that there might be something else responsible for the darkened skin under Shoichi’s eyes and the weight dragging his spine ever further down towards irreparable back pain. It’s something that he’s had to deal with for…. something that feels like years, but which he knows, by the way people quantify time, hasn’t actually happened. Yet that realization only makes Shoichi’s choice to be here over anywhere else in even this whole building alone a… puzzling mystery. His smile shifts a little bit, not as bright and careless, and he finally asks the question he’s been wondering for days and days now. “Why are you here, then, Sho-chan?” That gets Shoichi to looks up at him again, blinking a few times in pure befuddlement. “What?” “I’ve killed you a lot of times,” Byakuran answers patiently, still looking straight at him. This young, and his eyes seem a little darker than the brilliant green he has so many memories of. “I could kill you in this universe, too. So why are you still here taking care of me, Sho-chan? There are others you could get to do this.” Shoichi breathes in slowly again, and removes his hands from his neck with about the same speed. “I’ve been wondering that myself,” he admits. “But, Byakuran-san… You haven’t killed me yet.” …Huh. That actually wipes the smile from his face. When all Byakuran does is stare, head flopping to the side too quickly to be called a 'curious tilt’, Shoichi promptly flusters a nice red and jerks his shoulders up. “I know!” he snaps, which would be an overreaction if they didn’t know each other so well. Have known each other so well even without ever having met before in this lifetime before a little over a week ago, maybe. “I know the, the yet is kind of a, it’s a pressing point, there’s nothing guarantee that you won’t just…. do the same terrible horrible things all over again!” Every ounce of stillness is gone from him now. Free from their anchor along his own skin, Shoichi’s hands start to go flying everywhere as he gestures wildly. “I- I remember the kinds of things you can do, I know for a fact, and you’ve definitely proved that you can just… You’re not any weaker from that point in time, as far as I can tell! But I just-” He draws one hand back, raking it a lot more harshly through his hair than before. “I can remember you dying.” Brows drawn tight together, his eyes… They’re not burning, not in the way that Byakuran has become so accustomed to, and yet they’re an altogether different kind of intense that has him forgetting to even blink. Shoichi says nothing more on that, says nothing on what was going through his mind as he watched even Byakuran’s very bones turn to ash on the wind. He doesn’t need to. In every lifetime of his that Byakuran has ever seen, his goal has always been to oppose him eventually, inevitably. It’s simply never been a goal, he realizes then, that he’d ever reach with any element of personal happiness attached. A single shuddering breath breaks the silence, and Shoichi continues with a trembling voice that’s only barely calmer than his frantic explanation from a second before. “But you haven’t killed me yet,” he repeats, like a spell. “Whatever will happen in the future, or any other futures, it just… It hasn’t happened yet. So I’m just going to deal with the now, with what we’ve actually done, before anything else.” That phrasing tips him off to what’s going on in that brain of his, and Byakuran eases back into his pillows a little bit more. “Hey, Sho-chan,” he says, making sure that he’s snapped out his own brain before continuing. When he’s sure he’s gotten his attention, Byakuran smiles. “You remember two different lives, hm?” His flinch says it all. Most of those who were tightly bound with that one particular future were, to his understanding and one way or the other, given some memories of the event. Byakuran’s knowledge of it is incomplete, admittedly, on account of that self being dead by that point, but he can extrapolate enough. The latest battle demonstrated well enough the combined abilities of the world’s greatest scientist, the unparalleled abilities of the Millefiore’s once-own professional Gola Mosca engineer, and everything that Shoichi Irie is. That sort of thing would have been easy enough for them to do, to the embarrassment of no doubt many other scientists in the world. Yet there’s a problem with that. For all the others- the tenth generation of the Vongola, the reclusive and violent lot under Mukuro Rokudo, the Varia- they’d only remember the memories of that single time, perhaps an entire lifetime depending on what adjustments had been made for individuals such as Xanxus and Dino of the Cavallone. Yet even before he had died, Byakuran had learned enough to know that Shoichi Irie wasn’t anything like the rest of those who would remember that future, and in a way that had nothing to do with his favoritism for the other. Shoichi had been able to do what he’d done because a future version of himself had trapped a younger version of himself in his future long enough to suppress his memories of time travel, implant sleeper memories of that entire future along with plans to stop Byakuran, and then send him back into the past with the hopes that would stop something. Anything. By the time Captain Shoichi Irie of the Millefiore, double agent, had prepared his machine to let the Vongola’s tenth gen go back to their own time, he'd already been carrying the memories of an entirely different life and future around with him. When Shoichi Irie the simple teenager had gotten those memories again, he’d remembered not just one other life, but two entirely separate ones, layered on top of the memories he has of his own life in this universe now. Forcing himself to relax to what Byakuran finds to be mixed success, Shoichi leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands holding onto himself. “How… How do you deal with it?” he asks softly. Byakuran jazz hands towards himself. Shoichi squeezes his eyes shut in accompaniment to the scrunching of his mouth. “Alright, I- nevermind. I take back that question. It’s obvious how youdealt with it.” “Ha ha.” “Stop that.” Reaching up, he drags one hand down his face. “Please. Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick again…” “You’ve picked no better place for it, Sho-chan!" "Please, just…. stop that too.” Sneakers scruffing against linoleum, he slumps backwards into his seat and delegates one hand to wrap around his stomach again. His other hand stays right where it is up against his face. “Okay, if you can’t… promise that you won’t get into a fight with the other super-powered forces of nature also being treated in this hospital, can you…” He falters, for a moment, no doubt remembering so many promises that Byakuran failed to keep. “…Just don’t do that again. Alright? Don’t… try any of those timelines again.” There’s a lot Byakuran could say about that, how he’s clearly lost so many rounds that he can at least gracefully step back from the controller, that he’s honestly become sort of tired after so many different livetimes where he worked so hard for something that he couldn’t get past…. But he doesn’t. That’s a conversation that can, maybe, come at a different time. For now, he only continues to smile slightly in Shoichi’s direction. “There are other things I want to do now, Sho-chan,” he answers, which isn’t really false in any way. It’s only simplified. Shoichi takes what reassurance he can squeeze out of that response, nodding his head as if it’s made of lead. “Okay,” he says, quietly. “Okay. So I guess that’s… taken care of for now. I guess.” Even with armed guards, it’s good to see that even Shoichi is aware that Byakuran is only really contained when he wants to be. “Now all we have to do is just… focus on the present.” He whistles a breath out between his teeth. “Easier said than done.” While Byakuran’s own case far outdoes just about anyone else’s situation, well, that doesn’t change the fact that they’re both in the same boat of remembering more lives than 99.9% of the planet. How are they to move on so neatly, “live in the present”, when their minds are tied up in so many knot of other futures, other experiences, that they can barely stay put together? Byakuran nudges his hand a little closer to the metal railing of his bed, the failed purpose of which is to keep him in place. “Taking over the world is still an option, Sho-chan. And I’d still make you my Number 2, even.” The expression directed his way would be alarmed, if it wasn’t weighed down with so much exasperated annoyance instead. “Byakuran-san, what did I just say.” Prying his hand away from his face, Shoichi huffs. “Maybe Yuni-san would know… Even if I feel bad about bothering a little girl about this sort of thing. She wanted to talk with me anyway sometime this week…” Consider Byakuran’s interest stirred. “Oh, Yuni-chan wanted to talk with you? About what?” Rolling his head back, Shoichi is too exhausted to even look at him this time. “She wasn’t clear. Just that she wanted to talk with me and… Daisy-san…?” The sudden laughter that bursts forth from Byakuran’s mouth has Shoichi snap up in surprise. “What? What’s so funny!?” Grinning widely, Byakuran wipes away a tear of mirth from his eye with the heel of his hand. “Nothing big, Sho-chan,” he says, which is so transparent a lie that he doesn’t feel bad about it. Once again, he suspects he’s been outmaneuvered by a child, although the women of the Giglio Nero are so strange and otherwordly that perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. He has a suspicion of what exactly she aims to speak to Shoichi about. Which leaves all the burden of effort on him now, doesn’t it? He allows his eyes to slide shut, comfortable exactly where he is. This entire time, perhaps he’s been playing the game all wrong, gotten the objectives all mixed up. Perhaps this isn’t even the game he thought it was. If that’s the case… “I think I want to try things your way, Sho-chan.” And, for the first time in so many lifetimes, he feels a light touch at his own hand in return.

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