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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 1 month

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Crossover AU Theory: If Cat-Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) Met Cat-Steven (Steven Universe)

[Note: reading this Crossover Theory is Optional, but it is for Mature Audience Readers Only...also make sure you had watched all the episodes of Hazbin Hotel Season 1 first before reading this.]

yeah, I will get around to the whole part 2 of the theory about Blitzo being Adam's Half-Reincarnation after this and another weird post I want to post after this.

so for those who have watched Steven Universe (and have watched Steven Universe Future and understand a little bit or fully what Steven's been going through, but we can't make others watch that Steven Universe Future, if they want to watch all the episodes, they should only do so by their free will and own accord.)

some of you may know about the girl cat that Garnet ends up adopting (I'm still gonna fanon headcanon her from Sapphire component, is TFA-Prowl's Reincarnation...) and naming Cat-Steven.

Cat-Steven has one eye, and like what would happen if like in a Crossover AU type way, Cat-Alastor and Cat-Steven met...?

I still would love to see Cat-Alastor (full name Cursed Cat Alastor) freak everyone out when they do the demon dance, which involves the witch's cat pose and like side stepping at first before going faster and even bouncing a little.

you must appease them with fish...

*Chaz (Moxxie & Millie's Ex) is being held up in the air by Amethyst*

Pearl: AMETHYST, NO!

Amethyst: what...? they said that Cat-Alastor must be appeased with fish, so I'm gonna throw this Tuna-Himbo Dork to them.

if Emily and Amethyst fused, would they be called Emilethyst or Amelie...?

would their fusion be platonic or romantic...?

Emily must be the embodiment of joy, while Charlie is the embodiment of hope.

so if those two ended up fusing with Amethyst, even if it is a platonic fusion...

wouldn't that make the fusion the embodiment of joy & hope...?

they would probably end up being way bigger than Sera, and possibly taller than TFA-Megatron and TFA-Blitzwing.

Emily/Amethyst/Charlie Fusion could be around almost as tall as Garnet/Pearl/Amethyst's fusion, coming up to the full gem fusion's shoulders.

anyway, in a Fanon Timeline where Cat-Alastor did meet Cat-Steven, anything could happen, maybe Cat-Alastor will somehow end up owning Cat-Steven's soul, which the deal may involve Cat-Alastor placing their cute little paws on Cat-Steven's forehead, and then sticking their tongue out and crossing their eyes, then there is a glow of green and the deed is done.

my cat, well my second cat, does tend to stick their tongue out for a very long minutes or seconds.....it is both funny and cute.

if the hotel isn't careful, Cat-Alastor will rule the hotel with a fluffy iron paw...all the fluffy babies will be on their team, picture Angel crying when it turns out Fat-Nuggets is one of them.

is it weird to think Cat-Alastor might end up liking Fluttershy, and knows to fear her when she gives the stare...?

would Cat-Alastor imprint someone as their "Mom", did they imprint on Alastor or Charlie, or maybe even Angel.

there is a funny thing I learned about cats, which sometimes my cat does to me, even though they aren't really a small kitten anymore.

it has to do with the reason why cats kneed on their owner's chest.

well it's either called kneed or something else, might have to look it up sometime.

if Keekee does that sometimes, like if she use to do that to Lucifer, but stop since she went with Charlie to try to redeem sinners.

she could of ended up doing it again after Lucifer ends up moving into the hotel.

I'm pretty sure after the fight with Adam and Lute, he had ended up moving into the newly build hotel.

Lucifer could wake up and find Keekee massaging his chest, which is what he views it and she keeps doing it.

either when he's sleeping and wakes up to it, or when he's sitting down talking with someone, and that someone ending up being Charlie half the time.

and half the time when this is going on, Husk could be holding in his laugh when watching the scene, because in his life when he still lived on Earth, he may have learned the meaning why cats do that.

and Lucifer not knowing makes it both funny and cute.

cause it basically means he would be viewed as "Mom" by Keekee.

not sure if Cat-Alastor would ended up becoming smitten like a kitten with Keekee, well if they did, it would probably end up being platonic.

also the whole romantic doesn't always have to be the same, some can be just when you hang out together, maybe watching a movie or show together or playing a video game together.

it doesn't always have to be all kissy or cuddles all the time, or the other thing that is "snu-snu"...

I think I'm starting to view myself as more of a Gray-Aroace, which is why sometime I want to make a flag for myself that expresses well the different romantic parts, and aromantic parts of myself.

like I think I am still technically a flux, and even though I'm glad I can't pick up a certain toxic-lust energy of a certain someone anymore when I'm awake, but of course it is thanks to my gem bracelets, but it doesn't mean I wont still be weak to that toxic-lust energy, which is why the dream-catchers are needed...because of those three close call dreams, and the only reason I had that second close call was because I didn't have a dream-catcher up, so I decided to have that dream-catcher I had took down (not talking about the one in a zip-lock bag with salt in the bag with it.) and decided to have it outside my door.

even prayed for a type of protective barrier...and of course the dream-catcher we got next, it seem good but then something weird was about it, and I could of just been fine if I was just having my normal weird dreaming, but then the third close call happen...

so I had to take that one down, put it in a zip-lock bag, even get some of the food salt and hold it in my hands and prayed then I put the salt in the bag as well......I keep that one as far away from me as possible.

I got a new dream-catcher now, for both in my room and for the door outside my room.

I think I would feel safer around Ozzie and Fizz, cause that bad toxic-lust energy, I did not consent to it...and I think the only reason why the barrier open up, was because of that bad dream-catcher.

dream-catchers are suppose to protect you when you sleep, and one of the reasons I wanted to sleep one, even if I may have once did sleep while having a dream-catcher when I was little but stop at some point...

but the reason why I had wanted to get a new dream-catcher, that first started with the one that is now protecting my room that is outside my door.

it has to do with my possibly dream-walking, that the toxic-lust energy from someone placed my dream-self in a trance and the only reason I snap out of it in time, was possibly because of the gem bracelets I was wearing to bed, to protect me while I sleep, even if I now use them for multi-purposes.

and some of you may already know the reason I started to wear gem bracelets to sleep in the first place, and it having to do with being scared awake by a Incubus, it was like being between awake and sleep, or like being aware....and well even if it was for a split minute or second, it was enough to scare me awake.

even if I didn't see them, but I'm pretty sure it was a Incubus...

is it normal for some Earth Angels who are also Humans, to be catnip to Incubus...?

well I'm going to make sure to keep sleeping with my gems to protect me, not just from those like Incubus but also from humans as well.

and some percent of humans are too "in heat" even more reason for me to keep wearing my gems and only take them off only once in a while or when it's necessary...

at least Alastor never has to deal with that, so he's lucky.

anyway if Cat-Steven and Cat-Alastor ended up forming a bond,

it could be interesting if Alastor ended up finding Steven who is dying but he is also having his age fluctuating until it stops when he was a baby, and one of his tears saves him, but he ends up aging much slower than he did when he was still on Earth.

so Alastor ends up adopting Steven, who has a gem on the place where his belly button should be, Steven may have not really died, but he could of been very close to it, that is why his gem ended up causing him to age back into a baby, and even saved him by having him cry and become pink.

Steven as a Baby, might still have his powers, all but fusion, the fusion may only happen much later when he becomes much older.

but picture Baby Steven placing Vox in a very big pink bubble. XD

not sure if I can think of anything else about how Cat-Alastor and Cat-Steven would act to each other if they did meet.

I think Cat-Alastor would pick Baby Steven up by the back of the neck of their clothes and run off, while everyone gives chase.

and all this is happening, Baby Steven is laughing like it's all a game.

also it could be possible that Cat-Alastor and Cat-Steven wouldn't get along at first, until they bond over a shared interest....

ruling over the ones who walk on two legs...XD

I'm weird for thinking about that, but come on...you know how half the time cats sees us as someone who serves them, and at times they can be too cute to say no to. :)

#do not reblog without permission #mature audiences only #not for kids #crossover au #fan theory #steven universe au #hazbin hotel au #helluva boss au #cursed cat alastor #cat steven su #fanon #i'm weird #talking about feelings #my thoughts #march 2024

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steveinscarlet · 1 year

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I don't think I've ever seen this interview before? It's from a free paper called Soundcheck! in Nov 1983. Transcribed below because the layout is hard to read and the spelling is bad! Like misspelling both parts of Steve's name bad 🙄

Talk about keen. After a gruelling ten-month trek of the States, followed by a short tour of Europe which precedes a pre- Christmas mini-tour of Britain (sheesh, it's tiring enough just typing about it!), Def Leppard guitarists Phil Collen and Steve 'Steamin' Clark have filled their precious few days of rest in between by doing a whole pile of interviews.

This includes yours truly, SOUNDCHECK! staff reporter Pete Makowski. This year saw the massive US success of the group's third and greatest album Pyromania, which has established them as Superstars in America, where audiences scream and general hysteria is the norm at one of the group's stadium-size performances.

Phil Collen is the band's newest member and fits in comfortably with the Leppard sound. He also works very well with Clark. In fact, their musical tie has developed into a solid bond of friendship and they seem to spend all their working hours together.

Both firmly believe in maintaining the axe image and hopefully after the release of their next album will show audiences all over the world that solos do not have to be long, boring and monotonous. They have an idea they feel will revolutionise the concept of guitar playing.

As expected, they were tight-lipped about this new baby but otherwise proved very open and entertaining as a team in the interview that follows......

PM: The tour has been promoted partly by Why Bother Ltd, which is your company (one of them, that is). Has that moniker got anything to do with your feelings about touring this country?

PC: Yes. 'Cause when we tour over here, we always lose money.

SC: Yeah, the title of the company speaks for itself.

PC: If you're touring somewhere, and you're losing money, why bother doing it?

PM: Will you ever concentrate your energies on crackin' it over here?

SC: We obviously are! We wouldn't be doing a tour here after 10 months of playing America, would we? It's still a bit steep though, because now it's not Phonogram anymore who are backing us for these ventures; we're actually forking out our own money, as we've cleared our debt with Phonogram.

PM: What could you credit for the mammoth success of the last US tour?

SC: Lots of different things, you know we don't look like we're one of the Metallica bands. In fact, we made a conscious effort of not trying to look like that. We just tried to look normal and it seemed to work. Mums ain't scared to send their kids to our shows, where they'd probably have second thoughts about an Iron Maiden tour or Judas Priest, something like that, thinking their daughters would get raped or something.

PM: Why do you think groups like Quiet Riot have recently enjoyed mega mammoth success?

SC: Because we opened it up a bit; I don’t think it's just because of that. We've definitely opened the gate for other rock bands and they all seem to be doing quite well again. You know how it goes.

PM: Do you still enjoy touring the States?

SC: Yeah, when we come back and toured Europe, mainly because of the weather. Everyone immediately got 'flu. America was good and we had a good summer on our side. The tour got bigger and bigger, we started off thinking 'are we big enough to headline?' We have a top ten album and we were supporting Billy Squier. Then we got bigger and bigger and half-way through the tour we had to play two nights in some places; the further we went on the bigger the band became.

PM: Did you make a conscious effort to pace yourself on this, because I recall the last two times you played there everyone got worn out halfway through?

PC: We done alright. Actually, I was surprised.

SC: The big difference was that we headlined everywhere. This was the first time we'd headlined everywhere.

PM: Has it made that much difference? On your previous marathon treks it seems it really took its toll, physically speaking?

SC: It's probably because you weren't there (laughs). Keep Makowski out the way and you'll be alright!

PC: I remember our manager, Peter Mensch, saying: 'I realise Phil that this is your first American tour but Makowski won't be here so you'll be alright'.

PM: Was Pete Willis (Leppard's former guitarist) missed? I mean, what difference has his absence made to the group?

PC: Well it's the difference between half a million and six million.

SC: Pete had more of a cult following.

PC: I got some iffy fan mail, didn't I. Things like, 'you should be dead'. I got some fierce ones.

SC: When people saw the videos it helped to advertise the fact that Pete had gone and now Phil is with us. So kids, when they think of Def Leppard now, they think of Phil Collen as being an established part of the band.

PM: Your last album Pyromania was a mega mammoth success; have you started thinking about having to follow this up?

PC: We haven't really thought about it. We've got some ideas. A lot of bands do that, they think right: 'the last album was successful, this is what we should do to follow’. We haven't done that.

I mean, we may even do a keyboard album, as an example. I very much doubt that that's gonna happen. It's all down to how we feel at the time, really.

PM: How have things worked out between you two, because after America you should know each other pretty well by now and ironed out any problems that needed to be dealt with.

SC:I think we were worried about things at first, but I think that Phil's better and all the numbers sound much better than they ever could have with Pete. We're best mates now.

PM: That was quite a crucial change in personnel for the band.

SC: Yeah, and we were worried regarding how it would work out, because you don't really know what you need until you experience the change. When you've worked with someone for three years, initially things will be a bit strange; but as it's happened, things have worked out better than we'd ever expected.

PM: Is it still necessary to keep touring the States?

PC: I just think it's important to play where people appreciate you; you know for a fact that you lose money in England and you have to draw the line somewhere. As it happens, we made a bit of money in the States and it becomes very apparent that in other places we lose money when we go on the road. Hand over fist you have to fork out cash from your own wages.

PM: You've been getting a lot of teenybop- type fan hysteria in the States. How do you feel about that?

PC: It's great fun. Just take it with a pinch of salt. When it first started happening we just looked at each other and burst into hysterics thinking 'are you sure?'. It is a bit weird and we didn't accept it as the norm. We just thought this is a fluke, take it with a pinch of salt; it just kept on getting worse or better, whichever way you look at it.

What helps though is the attitude of the band. There's no ego problems here, which is what always screws other groups up. People start getting really weird. We're in a good position in as much as we're a younger and newer band and you can see all that crap going on while bands like AC/DC are getting on.

SC: When we're their age we'll have seen all the bad sides and have experienced all the problems when we were a lot younger. So it's taught us a lesson. So when we're their age we'll know what to do and what not to do.

PM: You do have a very strong band image.

PC: Yeah, it's not run by one person. The only way that you're gonna make good is if you all stick together and you all pull together.

PM: Have any of you got individual aspirations?

PC: Only within the band really me and him. Personally, there's some guitar things that we wanna do, but we can do them within the band. It works out great.

PM: Will the next album take as long to put together as Pyromania, which was 14 months in the making?

PC: It may do.

SC: We're not jumping on the Pyromania bandwagon: ‘oh, we want a hit album, let's bung out another one quick'. We're not going for a formula and trying to make forthcoming products sound like Pyromania because after a couple of albums we'd be finished. We're gonna take our time, do another album, which will retain our quality, and if it doesn't sell as well then tough shit! At least we'd know that what we did we wanted. But we're confident that it will do well anyway.

PC: Pyromania will be a hard one to follow up, but we ain't even thinking about that at the moment. We've got our own ideas and we're just going to do them. If no one likes them then bollocks!

PM: How about recording a live album?

SC: We have no plans for a live album.

PC: That usually comes at the end of a band's career or record contract; when they peak. Live albums are basically bullshit time. We haven't really got enough material to do one.

PM: You seem to separate yourself from the whole Heavy Metal bandwagon. Is that a conscious move?

PC: Well, it doesn't really bother us if we're associated with it. I don't really think that we're like the rest of them. We don't wear all that stupid regalia; we don't get all the studs and leather on, 'cause that's really false isn't it? I mean, could you seriously look me in the face if we was to like stick all the gear on?

SC: We've never tried to dress like that and it used to worry us. But we don't care anymore.

PC: The way we look at things is that we fill a great big gaping gap between bands like Journey and Foreigner and bands like AC/DC and Iron Maiden; we're right in the middle.

SC: We're almost like a Zeppelin or Queen -right in the middle! Well, that's what the press in America compare us to. We never said anything. We'd like people to take us for what we are...

And the beat goes on.

#def leppard #interview #steve clark #phil collen

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ohanny · 1 year

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my full, unhinged, cleaned from a 4am notes app ramble concert review of...

... the dream show 2 in berlin

mark lee mark lees just about as hard you'd expect a mark lee to mark lee so prepare a spare pair of undies

haechan proved that not only does he eat cds for breakfast, his ancestors have done so for at least five generations to prepare for his arrival

jeno is somehow even more handsome in real life

jisung is WAY more handsome in real life (that man has busted through any and all baby gates and is making everyone around his distressed)

chenle is just dirty

jaemin literally smiles all the time and i thought i was prepared for it since i know it's his thing but nothing prepares you for it. he smiles like sunshine but also like he knows he could kill you?

you know when it's quiet and then all of a sudden this clear, full, bell like note belts out? yeah, that's renjun. all the time.

i actually enjoyed the songs i normally skip (for example my first and last because "oh, you hate happiness" - my friend) more than the songs i was really hyped for (7dream version of hello future)

like if i am being brutally honest, i was a bit worried when i saw the set list because i love hype, high energy, hard hitting music and i'd classify over half of the songs played as chill/vibey/bright and since dream isn't - or better wasn't hahaha - one of my ult groups part of me was nervous about how much i would like the show and if it would be worth paying for the trip and ticket for the few songs i was initially feeling must-see-sadjlakjfklsfj about. but i enjoyed it SO MUCH. it was amazing, i don't regret a thing and i enjoyed every second of it and past me was a big idiot and if you have a chance to go see them, do it. they're so fun and captivating on stage and draw you in with their energy no matter what the beat of the song is.

i really liked the stage design and all the video graphics playing during performances. AND THE LASERS. seriously, so many lasers i felt like i was at a transformers rave

dreaming might be one of the best nct songs out of all the units

i was also in a glass box of emotion and the emotion was not appropriate for public

no but seriously, put me in a glass box. i would look like a greased up turkey leg spinning in a transparent microwave but i would own it.

also it is ironic that the song is called quiet down when everyone is literally screaming their heads off. they want a wave? we'll make a wave. they want us to yell out team slogans? sure. chant zhong chenle? absolutely. they say go trigger the fever? well fuck covid safety protocols then! but quiet down? QUIET DOWN?!?!

also you need sturdy bleachers for trigger the fever because they will make you jump and i was worried the seated section would collapse for a moment.

these men have arms

saturday drip was everything and i wanted and more but i am still bitter because i thought i filmed it all and got the most epic angle of the run down the catwalk, jump, confetti explosion moment only to realize i was never in the video mode and just snapped a photo in the beginning and held my phone up the whole time :') silver lining: i did manage to snatch a piece of saturday drip tho

you can find the amazing artists behind these freebies on twt as @ emi_kimpi and @ zoru_zoru

haechan: *hits an angelic high note*

the audience: *ruins it by screeching like pterodactyls over him*

jisung has such a distinct tone to his voice and every time he sang or rapped a line my heart did a little thing

the crowd went apeshit over glitch mode but give us an english version of beatbox and everyone is struggling because what do you mean english? ENGLISH? we are supposed to know english words now?

the most awkward moment of the show was that vcr making us practice the wave because there was no music, no audio, just subtitles going like "hello! starting from the right... let's do a fan light wave! 1... 2... 3... amazing!" (though we really would've needed the practice when mark made us actually do it hahaha, nailed it on the second try tho!)

i went into this concert with no fixed dream bias but like a very definitive top 3 and an idea who it would be and then, out of nowehere... renjun. the least likely, never was on my radar for a bias candidate member. i am still in denial over the fact jeno was there in his poor excuse of a shirt, grinding, and my eyes kept straying. but for real, you cannot overstate the charisma renjun has on stage. he is like a hypnosnake. i am having a crisis.

every individual member made an effort to speak something in german in every single ment they did and i heard it was the same with french in paris and english in london and it was honestly really heart warming

mark needs less watermelons and more fried eggs

#nct dream #the dream show 2 #concert review #so i've been dreaming #the fever was triggered okay #i went in as a casual fan and came out insane

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bridoesotherjunk · 1 year

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welp the new ninja turtles movie is causing a huge uproar because they race swapped april o neil and made her black :/

as a black person myself i kinda feel this rubs me the wrong way? like the whole velma/little mermaid/tinkerbell fiasco was bad enough but this... this just feels like "we care so little about representation that we reduced your ethnicity to a palette swap!"

like...just create a new character and give them their own identity. their black spider man wasn't just racebent peter parker, he's miles morales who is someone similar but also distinct and with his own identity. making "april o neil, but black!" is honestly just fucking lazy. and borderline insulting.

well.... it's ironic you bring up Miles Morales because he's one of the biggest examples of people being angry that he's black in spite of him being an original character. people HATED Miles when he was first introduced. the racist, disgusting, horrid posts and videos I remember seeing were everywhere. white people were so fucking mad that he existed. He's finally gotten the respect and adoration he deserved from the start, but at the beginning it was vile. but he was still an original character! He wasn't just black Peter Parker-- but that's what everyone said about him when he was first introduced! Either way you can't win against the racist assholes- they're going to throw a fucking fit no matter what you do.

on to the rest of the topic under a read more cuz it's kind of long

April has had people arguing about whether she was originally intended to be black or not, especially now with this movie coming out. Some of the things I've read make it seem like she might have been intended to be half black? It's a little weird, one source I found said she was supposed to be half-Asian and another said she was meant to be 100% Irish, so I dunno.

I can definitely understand why it would be upsetting though. I'm hoping that 'we care so little so we're just swapping the palette' is not what the team behind the new TMNT movie was going for when they designed April, but I can't say for sure. Disney? Yeah, I would bet money on their decisions being made by executives who have no fucking clue what the world is like and are just saying "Do this because it's trending" - like what they did with the Mulan 'me too' movement that made no sense at all. They're completely out of touch, so even trying to bring in a current topic, they fumble it.

As someone who is white, I really am glad Disney, and other studios like Sony, Dreamworks, etc. are finally trying to add representation to their films. Disney especially is doing it in a horrible way, for sure, by putting people into terrible remakes that audiences already don't like - creating an association in people's minds that can turn into racist thoughts later. (The whole "this version is bad BECAUSE of the diversity" type bullshit that you already see from people.) If they would actually do a better fucking job and tried harder, there would be no problem.

#long post #read more #tmnt #i can understand it #movie critical #movie discussion #racism discussion #racism in hollywood and movies specifically #might delete later #unsure #tough topic

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smokeybrandreviews · 2 years

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The Rock Bottom of Eternity

I’m going to come clean at the very beginning of the essay: I did not see Black Adam. I do not have a desire to see Black Adam. I was curious, for a while, because it’s taken fifteen years for The Rock to become Black Adam but my good will toward anything DC cinematic not from the Bat-Franchise, has been exhausted. It’s no secret that i thought everything about the DCEU was a misfire, with the exception of the first Wonder Woman. I didn’t like the casting, the aesthetic, the narrative choices, the projected plot, or the fact Zack Snyder was chosen to be “the guy.” Everything about the DCEU was trash and i don’t think The Rock, as much as he is Franchise Viagra, can save something so broken. The Snyderverse should have ever been and trying to cater to those fans has left the principal DC IPs in shambles. Minus Batman. It’s hard to f*ck over Batman. Everyone else? Yeah, they got the shaft.

Black Adam has been absolutely savaged by critics. Again, no plans to actually see this thing in theaters but from what i heard, it feels like a film out of time. It feels like a Phase One MCU outing, which is exactly what it should feel like. Black Adam i supposed to be the entry point to a brand new DC cinematic universe, one that divorces itself from whatever the f*ck Snyder was trying to do. Kind of. I think Flashpoint is about to remedy all of that, even the Ezra Miller problem, by the time credits roll. There seems to be a ton of re-shoots happening over there, most of which coincided wit the re-shoots Black Adam went through this year, so i think there will be continuity between the two films. Out with the old, in with the new. If Black Adam is to be the new DC’s Iron Man, then the vitriol from the critics is worrisome. Or so you would think. Apparently, audiences came out in droves to this thing. So far, it’s tracking for a one hundred, forty million opening weekend and that’s just peachy, especially for DC films going forward.

If that weekend haul wasn’t enough to convince you, the audience score on Rotten Tomatoes is sitting at ninety f*cking percent. That’s an absurd number for a film that stars a character no one outside of the comic fandom knows anything about. No, this thing is making bread because of a soft theater slate and the fact The Rock is starring. Franchise Viagra, remember? People are saying that is is a victory for the anti-woke mob and that the fans are being heard but i don’t give ash*t about any of that. It’s all just noise to me at this point. She-Hulk turned out to be just as fun as Black Adam from what i heard, so all the “politics” and “wokeness” are just dog whistles from toxic dudes getting their feelings hurt for being called out on their bullsh*t. What’s more interesting to me is where DC goes from here. You have a hit on your hands right now. It might not be great but Marvel is still reeling from the loss of their Trinity on film. How do you capitalize on this opening if you’re WB and DC? The Rock wants a Superman, Justice League, Suicide Squad, Black Adam battle royale but that’s dumb. Teth-Adam is not that guy, he’s not that level of a threat. Instead, they should just build upon this goodwill and try to construct something that can stand the test of time. The MCU didn’t get “good” until half way through Phase Two with The Winter Solder. That film set the tone for what followed. The DCEU never got to that point. They never had a Winter Soldier or found their Russo Brothers to shepard this franchise.

There are rumors that The Rock has a guy in mind for the job, that if Black Adam did well (which it apparently has) his team would have a shot at leading the direction of the DCEU 2.0. Is this a good idea? I don’t know but, going by The Rock’s history, I'd be inclined to think otherwise. Dude’s ego will always force himself into the forefront. This will immediately stop being a DC franchise effort and become a Dwayne Johnson star vehicle, which is absurd to me. Like, get your money, my guy, for sure, but not at the expense of the DCEU. This is the exact same folly that set Snyder up to ruin these characters for, what? Almost a decade? Ultimately, i am glad Back Adam did well. The Rock was tapped to play this character fifteen years ago so finally having it come to fruition is dope. I’m glad that there is another path to potential success for DC on film. I’m glad that people are supporting a film with so much diversity front and center. I’m glad for a lot of things but that doesn’t mean the future isn’t still murky as f*ck or that Black Adam is good. When there is a laundry list of critical issues with your film but the only positive i can find is that “I was entertained”, i am concerned about your ability to execute in the future.

#Black Adam #Teth-Adam #DC #DCEU #Dwayne Johnson #The Rock

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smokeybrand · 2 years

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The Rock Bottom of Eternity

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

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On Superboy (Conner Kent/Kon-El)

With Titans Season 3 debuting soon, I figured now was as good a time as any to write a bit about the real breakout star of Reign of the Supermen: Superboy.

Much as I love Steel, it was Conner (just Superboy back then) who has really stuck around as a popular character. Granted that is in no small part to Conner's greater outside media presence, helping his name reach a wider audience in shows like Smallville, Young Justice, and Titans. Conner as a character has varied widely in personality and powerset, with fans of each of his incarnations. It's ironic that he suffers a smaller scale version of Clark's push and pull between different writer characterizations. However Conner really only has two major incarnations to compare.

The first one is of course how he was when he debuted in the 90s:

This is how I first met Kon, and at first I didn't like him as a kid. He was arrogant, a glory hound, more interested in getting paid and scoring with girls than he was in being a hero. Despite sharing Superman's DNA, being a Kryptonian-human hybrid clone created by CADMUS Labs, Superboy clearly was not the same guy as Clark Kent. His role in Reign of the Supermen, like the Eradicator, was to show that just having the powers didn't mean you had the right to call yourself Superman, which made Steel a good foil for him.

However he wasn't a bad kid at heart, and he proved that by teaming up with the resurrected Superman and Steel to take down Hank Henshaw and Mongul. This take on Kon I would say is defined by how he isn't like Superman, yet Kon is ok with that, being pretty laid back and accepting of who and what he is. Superman does his thing, Kon does his. He can be a cocky asshole, but there's always that core of decency in him that shines through, whenever the situation calls for a hero to step up. Ultimately Superman accepted this guy as his quasi-"brother" and gave him the name "Kon-El".

Then there's the other incarnation:

My first encounter with Johns "Conner Kent" incarnation of Superboy was in the Young Justice cartoon, and I liked him. The cartoon hit right around my teenage years, and a hormonally driven nigh homicidal teenage boy who has deep anger issues and a bad relationship with his dad was perfect for me. I easily identified with him the most of the S1 team. Then when he finds out that Lex Luthor is the human donor for his DNA and develops angst issues? Oh yeah I was there for that, I loved that twist. Ultimately Conner matured, found his family with the team, built a healthy relationship with Clark, and grew up to probably be the most emotionally healthy of the original group which is both hilarious and heartwarming.

This Conner is defined by his daddy issues. He struggles with the idea that he has to live up to becoming Superman one day, and worries about what a Superman who is half Luthor might be like. He's much more sullen and introverted as opposed to Kon's extrovert, which is why a lot of people consider them two different characters.

Now I know quite a few people who hate the Lex Luthor retcon with every fiber of their being. They hate how it's become Kon's most important attribute, how it's warped his personality, how it's given him "daddy issues". But I have to say that I like the retcon and I think it's a great addition to Conner. He was always someone who had to live in the shadow of one of the greatest heroes who ever lived, the Luthor retcon simply added to a new dimension to that by making him someone who has one of the greatest villains' shadow hanging over him as well. Plus there's another reason why I think ultimately the Luthor retcon was for the best:

When Jon Kent was formally introduced into the Earth 0 DC continuity, Conner was fucked. Then when they made Jon Superman in Future State, Conner was double fucked. He got Tim Drake'd, forced out of his previous identity to make room for a successor that ultimately became even more popular. Conner was supposed to one day become Superman, just like how Tim was going to be Batman, but both of them were passed over for that role. Tim's now fourth in the line of succession behind Dick, Jace, and Damian, and frankly he's never going to get ahead of those three. Conner only has Jon to contend with, but the likelihood that DC will ever give him the spotlight is slim, especially since Val-Zod has somehow managed to crawl out of Limbo thanks to MBJ, so there's another young successor that is heir to the Superman mantle and shares a heritage with Superman's enemy (I know comic Val isn't the son of General Zod, but comic Val is a shit character, and they are 100% going to make him related to General Zod in the HBO Max series if it does end up happening).

But the Luthor heritage is something that no one else has, and it provides Kon some level of protection because of it. Being Lex's quasi-son gives Kon storytelling opportunities that Jon doesn't have access to, and it's made him very attractive for adaptation in outside media since it's an easy source of drama. The Future State Suicide Squad story actually sets up a brilliant way to exploit that, by making Kon the Superman of Earth 3:

He's been boxed out of the title on Earth 0, but Earth 3 doesn't have a Superman. It's NEVER had a Superman. It's greatest villain was Ultraman, and it's greatest hero, Alexander Luthor Jr. Furthermore on that Earth it's Kon's Luthor heritage that would make him appear heroic, and his Kryptonian heritage that would cause others to fear him, a neat way of inverting the traditional post-Johns internal struggle Conner has had. I would absolutely love to read a Superman of Earth 3 title that was all about Kon's struggles to save a world that has a natural bent towards evil, his worst fear about himself literally written into the reality of how that universe works. Can he save Earth 3, and thus also prove to himself that his worst fears aren't unbeatable? If that is indeed where DC is taking Kon, then I am all for it and don't mind him being sidelined for Jon.

How I Would Approach A Kon-El Superman Book

First off I would bring most of Kon's Young Justice generation with him to Earth 3, and make them his supporting cast. Most of them are in the same boat at this point, the "replacements" who never got to replace their mentors, and ended up being replaced themselves (call it the "X-Men problem"). Like Clark and his Authority team, Kon summons friends old and new to aid him in his new quest to free Earth 3 from the grip of the Crime Syndicate. My theoretical line-up would be something like:

Kon-El/Superman

Tim Drake/Batman

Cassie/Wonder Woman

Bart/Flash

Keli/Green Lantern

M'gann/Miss Martian

Tanya/Power Girl

Derek/Sideways

After meeting and witnessing the death of Alexander Luthor Jr, Kon has been inspired to take up Luthor's quest to free the citizens of Earth 3 from the tyranny of the Crime Syndicate. Seeing that Earth 0 has a Superman to watch over it in the form of Jon Kent, Kon feels inspired to reach out to an Earth with no such protection. Utilizing his Luthor heritage, Conner is able to claim Alexander's wealth and resources, which Conner is determined to put to good use. He recruits the group above to be a "Legion of Justice" for Earth 3, situated right under the Syndicate's nose in Ultratopolis.

I feel like the above would be a great pitch for what to do with all the young heroes DC doesn't seem to know what to do with right now. Let them have an Earth of their own to be the premiere heroes of, an Earth where they can finally have the titles they've been training for. The Young Justice team going up against evil versions of their mentors seems like the perfect plotline for them, and Conner is the perfect leader for that team.

#conner kent #superboy #kon el #superman #earth 3 #young justice

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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#5: The One With Astruc's Self-Insert

In my introductory post, I said the main inspiration for this blog was @hypocrisyofandrewdobson. For those who don't know, Andrew Dobson is an infamous webcomic artist known for drawing webcomics that tend to demonize people he's come across in public or people who disagree with him online (either critical of his art or his political views), while portraying himself as the victim or wise man calling them out on their differing beliefs.

If you want to learn more about this guy who I consider to be far worse than Astruc, check out the blog in question. And no, I don't know why he draws himself as a blue bear.

Why am I talking about this? It's one thing for some schmuck on the internet to use his work to respond to criticism, but the creator of a popular animated series dedicating an entire episode to attacking his critics and trying to get others to feel bad for him is another story.

The second episode of Miraculous Ladybug's third season, “Animaestro” served as a wake-up call for fans (myself included) to make them realize how immature Astruc could be. The plot centers around the premiere of a movie about Ladybug and Cat Noir directed by Thomas Astruc, who voices himself in the original French dub.

And this isn't just a brief cameo like what Stan Lee did in the MCU. Astruc is the Akumatized person this episode, so there's naturally a lot of focus on him. Throughout the first half of the episode, Astruc portrays himself as this timid man who nobody recognizes or respects, like this idiot who doesn't know what animation is.

Doorman: This is a private event, sir.

Astruc: Huh? Excuse me? I'm Thomas Astruc, the movie director.

Doorman: You filmed Cat Noir and Ladybug? What are they like in real life?

Astruc: Er, it's an animated movie. It's all cartoon characters. We don't actually film anyone. See, there's this whole team that draw the chara—

Doorman: Whatever. Who would want to see Ladybug and Cat Noir as cartoon characters?

Get it? Wasn't that meta joke hilarious? This is how much I was laughing:

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And Astruc continues to get about as much respect as Rodney Dangerfield when he interacts with other characters like Jagged Stone and Chloe.

Jagged Stone: Ladybug is one of my best buds! I can't wait to see her movie!

Astruc: Well I—I'm the director, so actually it's more my movie, so to speak.

Jagged Stone: Oh, so you're the one who created the story?

Astruc: Well, technically the screen writers wrote the story, inspired by Ladybug's exploits.

Jagged Stone: Oh, okay. So you did all the drawings?

Thomas: No, no. The animators do all the drawings.

Jagged Stone: So what do you do then?

(Later on...)

Chloe: So you're the one responsible for this movie?

Astruc: Yes, yes! Exactly! That's me!

Chloe: Then you were the one who left Queen Bee out of the trailer. You're lame, utterly lame.

I can't believe Astruc had a scene where he interacted with Chloe and didn't insult her at all.

The episode is determined to make the audience feel bad for Astruc. Nobody respects him and what he does. Isn't that saaaaaad? Nobody cares about animated film directors like Walt Disney or Tex Avery anyway. Not even these stupid children understand how hard Astruc works.

Several Children: Ladybug! Where's Ladybug?

Astruc: Hey there, kids!

Teacher: Ladybug isn't here children. We came here to meet the director of the movie. Children: (frowning in disappointment) Aww.

(Astruc looks visibly disappointed.)

Way to insult your primary demographic, Astruc. I thought you said kids have a better understanding of these stories when people criticized the writing of a certain episode (It's that scene in “Puppeteer 2” if you're curious/don't value your sanity).

It's almost like you're using that as an excuse to half-ass your work while still getting to claim this show is so groundbreaking.

In case you can't tell, “Animaestro” is one of those episodes. The ones where the showrunners decide to dedicate an entire episode to attacking critics of the show in a blunt fashion. Whenever a show addresses criticism, they either create an obvious strawman character to parrot the opinions of fans who don't like their work, or have someone defend the show and insult the critics directly.

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The problem isn't that they're ignoring criticism. It's their show, and they aren't obligated to listen to critics or fans who don't like the direction the show is taking. On the other hand, they aren't obligated to fight back like this and treat their audience like crap. Any show that does something like the three clips I showed you usually comes off as petty and immature because they dedicate so much time to insulting the critics.

Even during the Akuma fight, Astruc has to call out Ladybug for having problems with his movie in-universe, obviously representing critics of the show Astruc claims have no right to criticize the show while it's still airing.

Ladybug: What's with that trailer too? I am not scared of cats, at all.

Astruc/Animaestro: You haven't even seen the movie and you're already slamming it?

Cat Noir: He does have a point, you know.

Ladybug: I wasn't slamming it. It's called constructive criticism!

Yeah, how dare Ladybug be angry that this movie is portraying her as a powerless coward dependent on Cat Noir as opposed to a confident and brave superhero. She just doesn't understand the genius of Thomas Astruc!

And of course the character Astruc claims is “perfect” is the one to take his side.

And that's another problem with this episode, the metatextual references. Before he gets akumatized, Astuc says he spent three years of his life working on his movie. I get that time in this show is weird (we somehow had episodes taking place on the first day of school, Christmas, Valentine's Day, and the first day of Summer), but how did Astruc's self-insert work on a movie based on a superhero who has only been active for a year? Meta-wise, it's an obvious reference to the scorn Astruc has gotten from fans after working so hard on his show, but the only people who would get that reference are the ones who are aware of Astruc's reputation online.

Self-Insert aside, I actually think the titular Animaestro is one of the more visually impressive Akumas featured on the show. Animaestro takes on several forms based off several different forms and eras of animation, like flash, anime, rubber hose, and they all stand out. Granted, some of them are obvious parodies of other characters like Goku or Sailor Moon, but the actual Akuma fight is fun to watch. According to the Mexican Miraculous Ladybug Twitter account, this episode took two and a half years to create, and it shows. It's too bad the story behind it is completely insufferable, almost like the cartoon equidistant to Pixels.

But then comes the part that honestly makes the episode worth it, mainly for how unintentionally hilarious it is. Do you want to know what Animaestro's weakness is? Do you really want to know?

Animaestro is physically incapable of moving unless someone is watching him. I am not making this up.

Ladybug and Cat Noir literally defeat Animaestro by getting everyone to stop paying attention to him.

I could make so many jokes with this, but I can guarantee you're already thinking of something just as good, if not better, than whatever I write.

And there's the end where Astruc gives Marinette his ticket to the movie, which prompts Marinette to kiss up to him for no real reason.

Astruc: Sorry, I guess you don't know who I am either.

Marinette: Of course do. You're Thomas Astruc, the movie director!

Astruc: She recognized me. Somebody actually recognized me!

Nothing happened to make her change her opinion on the Ladybug movie, she didn't really say anything to him earlier in the episode that connects to this exchange, and outside of a few lines Animaestro said, she doesn't even know why he got akumatized (even though ironically she and Chloe accidentally contributed to it because of the awful subplot involving Kagami I talked about last time). If anything, it comes off less like she actually appreciates Astruc's work, and more like she's stroking his ego just to keep him from getting akumatized again.

So yeah, this episode is awful, and the fact that it came out right after the controversial “Chameleon” only proved to show what kind of direction the show was taking this season.

But honestly, even if Astruc still wanted to make about how he doesn't get enough respect the episode could have potentially. All he had to do was make a simple change: Instead of making it about validation for Astruc as a creator, make it about validation for animation in general.

It's a common misconception that animation is only used for shows and movies aimed at children, so the episode could reflect it. Instead of the huge turnout where several celebrities appear at the premiere, instead, the turnout could be a lot smaller, with the media dismissing it as some stupid kiddie flick. Instead of getting akumatized because he gets humiliated in public/getting no respect from anyone else, Astruc gets akumatized because he sees the audience didn't go wild for the movie after the premiere. All he can hear them say is that it's just “kids stuff”.

So when Astruc is Animaestro, he goes on about how important animation is. How it's helped produce propaganda since World War II. How it helped improve special effects in big blockbusters. How the medium is used to create movies that simply can't be filmed on a physical set.

After defeating Animaestro, Ladybug shows up to talk to him. She had seen the movie earlier, and actually enjoyed it. She had a few problems with the story, but they were just minor nitpicks and inaccuracies Astruc wouldn't know about, and she was blown away by the animation. She tells Astruc not to be deterred by his critics, and continue to do what he does. As a designer in her civilian life, Ladybug knows the joy creating brings her, and both she and Astruc want to spread that joy through their work.

Back at the premiere, Astruc thinks about what Ladybug said to him when he sees some kids reenacting a scene from the movie. Astruc walks over to them and asks what they thought of the movie. They said they loved it and how energetic it was. When he tells them he is the director, the kids' faces light up and they say they want to do what he does when they grow up, bringing a smile to Astruc's face.

Isn't that a much more humble approach instead of what we got? It would have helped Astruc come across as more sympathetic, especially with animation fans. But instead, we got an entire episode of Astruc whining about how misunderstood he is.

And you know the footage used for the movie at the beginning? Remember that, because I have a huge rant about it saved for a later post.

For now, here’s an example of a creator appearing in his work done right.

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thepartyresponsible · 3 years

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For the wip ask (they all sound very interesting ngl it was hard to pick just one!) LostSteve

lost steve! yeah, so. what if shield defrosted captain america, and he broke out and just...kept running? what if they lost him? what if he ended up hiding out in tony’s tower, away from the fight for long enough to get his feet underneath him?

this fic is mostly about steve and tony finding each other first, so they can form the heart of the avengers, instead of the fault line that splits the team in half. here’s the first part of it.

—

There’s an alert from Nick Fury that Tony chooses to ignore, for the sake of his convenience and Fury’s ongoing character growth. JARVIS announces its arrival and then diligently reminds Tony about the message twice before Tony tells him to mute it until morning.

“If it’s really that important,” he says, “they’ll just send someone to break in anyway.”

Which is why, on some level, he’s not at all surprised to find a man sitting on a couch in his penthouse twenty-seven hours later. He will admit to being caught somewhat off-guard by the specifics of the situation, though, because Steve Rogers has been dead for longer than Tony’s been alive.

“Zombie?” Tony asks. “Hallucination? Oh, clone? Are you a clone?”

Steve Rogers looks at him the way people look at wax sculptures. Like he’s interested in the details of the creation in front of him, but doesn’t believe for a second that what he’s looking at is real. “Mr. Stark,” he says, politely. His voice is deeper than Tony would’ve guessed.

“Robot,” Tony theorizes. “Sexbot? Updated Trojan Horse? If I let you inside me, are you gonna--”

The man’s brow furrows, and his mouth twists down, and his eyes are too sad for circuitry. No one would code that kind of grief.

Tony pauses for a moment, rocks forward onto the balls of his feet and then back onto his heels. He studies this intruder carefully. Someone sent him a Steve Rogers lookalike in a white t-shirt and stained khakis. He’s hale and healthy, built like a god, but his feet are bare and dirty.

Bloody, too. There are bloody footprints on the carpet.

“Wait,” Tony says. “Wait. Who the hell are you?”

There’s a long beat of silence. The man on his couch just stares at him, eyes tracing over Tony’s face, his shoulders, looking at him like he’s starving for something. He’s quiet and small, somehow, in a way that doesn’t relate at all to the amount of space his body takes up.

And then he stands, light and graceful on his bloody feet. His jaw tightens, and his shoulders pull up, and he’s an American Hero, suddenly and decisively, like he’s made some kind of choice about it.

“Mr. Stark,” he says, again, “I’m Captain America.”

And he is, Tony thinks. The same way that he’s Iron Man. Because once you put on that kind of armor, whatever else you used to be is irrelevant.

—

He’s Captain America, and he’s back from the dead. SHIELD had him and lost him, and Nick Fury wants Tony to go looking for him. That’s the message he left with JARVIS over a day ago. And Tony can’t imagine he was the first name on their list, which means Steve Rogers has been alone in the wrong century for an unknown but considerable amount of time.

“Hey,” he says, calling out from where he’s slouched against the kitchen island, watching Captain America dutifully eat through every scrap of leftovers Tony had in the fridge. “How long have you been here?”

“I was born here,” he says, through a mouthful of fried rice that he hides behind a napkin. He chews, swallows, and jabs his fork over Tony’s shoulder. “In Brooklyn.”

Tony knew that. Of course he knew that. He memorized everything about Steve Rogers back when he thought he could become enough like him to make Howard consider him worthwhile. “No, I mean,” he says, waving his hands, “in this century. How long have you been--- Jesus. I dunno. Awake? Aware? Unfrosted flakes?”

Steve blinks at him. He stares for a second and then ducks his head, stirs his fork through the open takeout box in front of him. “Spent a couple days,” he says. “Looking around.”

Looking around. Steve Rogers, unwitting time-traveler, barefoot in New York. What had he been looking for? Why did he come here?

“Why didn’t you get any shoes?” Tony asks, instead of any of the more complicated questions.

Steve tucks his feet under his chair. He washed them half an hour or so back, walking uneasily into the bathroom Tony showed him and then locking the door behind him, like he thought Tony was some kind of pervert who would bodyslam through the door to catch a glimpse of him sudsing up his bare ankles.

“Didn’t have any money,” he says, surprisingly mulish about it.

“You couldn’t smash and grab a pair of Sketchers?” Tony shakes his head. “If you get lockjaw, you’re gonna have to tell Fury you caught it from somewhere else. Fuck’s sake, when was your last tetanus booster? 1943?”

He shrugs. He doesn’t seem concerned. He’s busy eating his way through enough calories to keep your average winter-starved grizzly happy.

It’s hungry work, coming back from the dead. Tony remembers the unholy things he would’ve done for a cheeseburger.

“Didn’t have any money,” he repeats, scraping his fork around the sides of the takeout box, diligent and serious, like it’s the very last scrap of food he’ll ever get.

Tony clears his throat, hip-checks the counter to heave himself to standing. “I’ll get you some cash.”

—

There’s a weird moment, when Tony gives him the money. It’s just a few hundred dollars. He’s not Tony’s problem, not his project raised from the dead, but he still doesn’t want to give Steve Rogers the means to get himself truly lost in a world he doesn’t know.

Five hundred dollars will get him some food and somewhere to sleep for a few days, but it won’t get him far enough out of SHIELD’s orbit to get himself in trouble.

He looks up when Tony gets close. There’s a well-worn wariness in his eyes. He watches him the way a dog from a bad home might watch him through the bars of the shelter’s kennel. Resigned instead of hopeful, like he knows how this goes, like he knows he can survive it.

“Here,” Tony says. He leaves the money two chairs away from him, within easy grabbing distance. “And I have shoes your size, if you want to borrow them.”

“I don’t need that,” Rogers says, pointing at the money.

Tony lets his mouth tip up sideways, smirks like this is the part of the whole situation he finds truly unbelievable. “You’re going to come into my house,” he says, “uninvited, unannounced, and then you’re going to refuse to accept my hospitality? Rogers, what would your mother think?”

There’s a stall point in Roger’s stare, like watching a bird fly into a window. There’s a moment, right around the word mother, when those blue eyes blank out, and Tony’s just staring into empty space.

“She didn’t,” he says, and it’s fascinating. He’s stitching himself up right here at Tony’s dining table. Tony can practically see it happening, vertebrae stacking up, pulling him taunt like a needle tugging on a thread. “She never liked charity.”

Tony is familiar with pride. He has something of an overabundance himself, although he comes by it honestly. He knows hurt pride hates an audience, so he looks away.

“I imagine she hated the idea of you starving, too,” Tony says. “Probably worked very hard to make sure that didn’t happen. Going to waste all her work now, Rogers? Seems ungrateful.”

He’s half-taunting by the end of it. He’s not sure why. He finds weak points like a magnet finds iron. Sometimes he doesn’t even know what he’s pulling on until after he’s accidentally ripped out someone’s heart. It’s not one of the traits he’s proud of, but, like his pride, he knows where it came from.

Rogers glares at him, but he hooks the next takeout container over anyway.

“I’ll get those shoes,” Tony says. JARVIS has already measured; Rhodey left some boots that should fit.

Steve doesn’t say anything, but, when Tony comes back, the money is gone, and so is he.

—

Tony doesn’t tell Fury a damn thing. If Fury lost a national icon, that’s his problem. And anyway, Tony’s still not completely convinced that the blonde who materialized in his penthouse was actually Steve Rogers and not some kind of really confused, really well-built homeless man. Or a stripper.

Tony’s never actually met a stripper who showed up in khakis, refused to disrobe, and then ate ten pounds of takeout before silently disappearing, but he’d be willing to pay another five hundred dollars for a repeat performance.

He figures out how the maybe-Steve got into his penthouse. He upgrades the security, but he tells JARVIS to let him in if he ever comes back. He’s not sure what he’s hoping for, but he’s too curious to lock him out.

—

There’s a bit of nothing that kicks off in New York, some Hammer tech that goes haywire. Tony puts it down like the cheap knockoff that it is, but he gets stuck in debrief with Phil Coulson afterwards, because he’s not quite quick enough to abandon the scene after the fight’s over. In his defense, he was holding a car above a partially-trapped bicyclist, and Coulson caught him before the EMTs could finish disentangling her.

He makes it back to the Tower after an hour of mostly-wasted time. Steve Rogers is sitting at his dining table. Tony bites back the ludicrous urge to “honey, I’m home!” him.

“Hey,” he says instead, as he steps in from the balcony, stripped down to the skintight suit he wears under the armor. He didn’t expect company. “You get something to eat?”

Steve seems somehow offended by the question. “I didn’t break in here and steal anything,” he says.

“Okay,” Tony says, moving past him. “Well, that’s a gold star and an empty stomach for you, Rogers. We’re all very proud.”

“It’s not my food,” Steve tells him. If he had hackles, they’d be raised. Tony wants to pat him on the head, but only because he’s always had a sort of neurotic tendency to see how hard people bite before he decides whether to trust them.

“Yeah, and a twenty-dollar grocery bill is really gonna break me,” Tony says. He takes a smoothie out of the freezer. “You want pizza? I’m gonna order pizza.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment before he shrugs. “I could eat,” he says.

“Great,” Tony says. He has JARVIS order three pizzas, because he wants at least half of one for himself, and Steve Rogers is a human garbage disposal.

Steve takes a shower while they’re waiting. He asks first, which Tony supposes is the polite thing to do, and he takes his backpack with him, like he’s worried Tony’s going to steal his wallet.

“You know,” Tony says, when Steve remerges, wearing another knockout set of some grandpa’s Goodwill khakis and button-down shirt, “you keep showing up like this, and it’s gonna get harder for me to lie to Fury about having no idea where you are.”

Steve flips open a pizza box and carefully selects a slice. His hair is wet and neatly combed back from his face. He’s handsome from a distance but damn near devastating at close range. Tony takes another bite of pizza, hopes it’ll help swallow back the urge to sink a few grand into war bonds.

“Fury’s the guy with the eyepatch?” Steve doesn’t settle into a seat. He takes his pizza and wanders over to the window, stares out at the skyline.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Tony says.

Steve makes a face. Tony can see it, dulled and faded, in the reflection on the glass. “He’s persistent,” he says, slowly. Not like it’s a compliment.

“Yeah,” Tony says, again, “that’s him.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Tony finishes his slice of pizza, eats another one. There’s an ache in his right shoulder from being wrenched around by Hammer’s ridiculous creation, and he should be icing it, but he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve Rogers here.

He’s never liked looking human in front of an audience. His problem has always been that he couldn’t figure out how to stop. At least, not until he built his armor.

Steve comes back when he’s out of pizza. He’s catlike in his wariness, in the way he seems pissed at Tony for daring to exist in his proximity.

“That fight,” he says, apropos of approximately nothing at all. “Earlier.”

“Oh,” Tony says, rising out of his chair and moving toward the bar, giving Steve the room to loom over the pizza like he’s defending his kill. “You see that on the news?”

“Saw it on the street,” Steve says. “Heard the screams.”

Heard the screams and came running. So he’s still in the hero business. Fury will be happy to hear it.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Steve tells him. He sounds angry about it. At Tony, not the situation. “Where’s your backup?”

“Backup,” Tony repeats. “Cap, c’mon. Read a newspaper. I work alone.”

Steve Rogers looks up from his pizza perusal just long enough to roll his eyes. It should feel like a slap across the face, and maybe it does. However it feels, Tony likes it. Wants more of it. There’s always been something grounding in being dismissed, like Tony’s never known where he stands until someone shows him how he doesn’t measure up.

“Is that supposed to be impressive?” Steve asks. “Men who work alone die alone, Stark. And they’re not very effective when they do.”

Tony knows he’s meant to be offended. He is, probably. But he couldn’t bite back his smile for anything. “I think I liked you better when you called me ‘Mr. Stark.’”

“Seems to me,” Steve says, “you want everyone to call you Iron Man these days.”

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” Tony says, “surely they had that line about glass houses in the ‘40’s?”

Steve frowns at him. “I never asked anyone to call me Captain America.”

“And yet,” Tony says, tipping a bottle of whiskey his direction, “that’s how to introduced yourself to me.”

Steve gives him a look like he thinks Tony’s being deliberately obtuse. “That’s who I am,” he says.

Tony rolls his eyes and flips a tumbler right side up. “But when I start using a stage name,” he says, “suddenly I’m a narcissistic asshole who doesn’t--”

“Do you think,” Steve says, looming up suddenly, shifting gears like something mechanical, going battle-ready with more decisiveness than a faceplate clicking down, “that anybody spent years, spent—I don’t know. Millions of dollars? Do you think anybody did that for Steve Rogers?”

Tony’s caught wrong-footed. He did it again. Drilled until he found the nerve, cut until he broke the skin.

“I think you don’t get one without the other,” Tony says, trying now to soothe. But he’s not very good at it. His instincts don’t run this direction. His whole life, the only things he could ever repair were machines.

Steve shakes his head. He steps away from the pizza. He looks around, eyes zeroing in on his backpack.

“Stay here,” Tony says, sidling out from behind the bar, whiskey now in hand.

Steve straightens up like a cobra, like he’s going to spit venom in Tony’s face. Tony wants to put his mouth on him, which is probably only half because he’s always been hellbent on his own destruction. The other half is that Steve Rogers is beautiful like something made in a lab for aesthetics alone, carefully designed for universal appeal. Tony likes to tell himself he has a taste for the exclusive, but the reality has always been he wants exactly what everyone else does.

“You don’t want SHIELD to find you,” Tony says, “then stay here. Trust me, this is the last place they’d think to look.”

He’s not standing between Steve and the exit. He was careful about that. Whatever SHIELD might think about him, he doesn’t have a death wish. And also, when he’s thinking about it, he’s not usually deliberately an asshole. It’s just that, most of the time, he’s not thinking about it.

“Why should I trust you?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs. Hell, he has no idea. “Why’d you come here? The first time. When SHIELD lost you, you came here. Why?”

“I went home,” Steve says, argumentative, all squared shoulders and tight jaw. “I went to Brooklyn. But it wasn’t there anymore. None of it was—I couldn’t find…”

He trails off, shakes his head, sharp and agitated, a horse bothered by a fly. It’s hard to look in his eyes. There’s something in them that Tony doesn’t want to see. It’s like watching a statue bleed.

“I heard there was still a Stark in New York,” Steve says. “I read about you. I thought maybe you’d--”

“You thought I’d be like Howard,” Tony finishes for him. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I thought you’d be like me,” Steve says, which doesn’t make any sense at all.

“You,” Tony says. And then, a little helplessly, “What?”

Steve looks away. He shrugs, looks back. “I saw the suit,” he says. “On the news. I saw what it can do. I didn’t think--- things have advanced a lot. I didn’t understand. I thought Howard had…”

Tony squints at him. “You thought Howard did a Rebirth redux and tested it on his kid?”

“I thought a lot of things,” Steve says, snappy. “It was a very confusing couple of days.”

Tony can imagine that it was. “So you thought I was Rebirthed, and you wanted--”

“I didn’t want anything,” Steve says, and there’s that flash of exposed nerve again, that look like a sinkhole in the backs of his eyes. “That’s not the point.”

Tony takes a sip of his whiskey. It settles, warm and sweet, into his stomach.

I didn’t want anything.

I shouldn’t be alive, unless it’s for a reason.

Tony holds the tumbler out. Steve needs the warmth more than he does. “Here,” he says.

Steve takes it, seemingly on reflex. “I can’t get drunk,” he says.

“Well,” Tony says, circling back toward the bar, “not with that attitude.”

#writing #fic

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runnyeggsnham · 3 years

Note

"I hope you see this Anon"

D'aww thanks for thinking of me! I have read the article and yeah, it confirms the notion that there may be factions within the writing and production teams on how to tell the story, but no one agreed on what was best for the characters. It was like they were balancing "throwing a bone" at the queer community against making sure homophobic fans aren't put off by providing a pseudo-heterosexual love interest. A character, by the way, whose real plot function is to set up the multiverse and positioning Loki as a would-be hero. The problem, and I've learned this myself as a writer, is that the audience can tell when the artist is being genuine in their motivations or not.

Ironically, the way they set-up Sylvie cannot help but be compared with the way they set-up Mobius. They almost have more plausible deniability about the Mobius and Loki subtext if Sylvie hadn't been written as a counterpoint. And that highlights another problem: I had trouble connecting with Sylvie even though I wanted to like her. There was something about her character that felt either incomplete or unknowable, and that emotional distance is apparent in her interactions with Loki. It also doesn't help that the actors were directed to be like "teenagers inexperienced with love". That may be cute with teenagers, but in adults it looks super awkward. Not to say that these characters don't have challenges with love and trust, but the portrayal off those challenges simply felt "off".

Meanwhile, Mobius is set-up as the character who trusts Loki, wants to help, offers an opportunity to do something different, asks for help finding the Varient, and actually listens to what Loki has to say. He's definitely not perfect (i.e. his jealousy blow-up and nut-kicking punishment. Which honestly, I think was played for slapstick comedy as well as an emotional moment for the audience, and is not supposed to be perceived as full-blown torture as some fans believe).

It's kind of hilarious, but I think they created a love triangle without actually MEANING to.

No problem! 😄

Yeah, the production was all over the shop. And it's so weird how much of a circus the marketing campaign has been. Like, it feels like each group was told a different thing while they worked and now that it's aired, a memo was sent out to get everyone aligned? Because everyone was saying their own thing lol. Like not that they were all given a different story at the time, but that each group was given a different angle they were told to focus on...or some were like half-finished mission statements, which is the vibe I get from Holt's answers lol (like the quote about her doing the nexus event soundtrack more subtle first, but it didn't work, so she had to change it? Did no one tell her from the rip it was supposed to be a sweeping romantic moment?)

"Ironically, the way they set-up Sylvie cannot help but be compared with the way they set-up Mobius. They almost have more plausible deniability about the Mobius and Loki subtext if Sylvie hadn't been written as a counterpoint." Exactly! Excellent point! Mobius is the one introduced first and that has these types of moments with Loki first, so they really had to differentiate Sylvie right away with something more, a greater connection factor, to really emphasize why this one is romantic and the other is not. But...what is that, then? The nexus event?

Everything about that moment is undercut immediately by them bonding over what makes a Loki and Loki, which is a terrible time to remind the audience of their variant connection, and then within 10 minutes we get Mobius, our warm and calm and level character absolutely pained and freaking over the "narcissism" of it all...after making Loki pseudo-breakdown in the time loop room and come to that narcissistic conclusion himself? Like, okay, the writers can say it wasn't jealousy-motivated, but I'm sorry, you can't have Loki frame his narcissism as a bad thing...and then expect the audience not to agree with Mobius when he's using that same framing device to accost Loki for this romantic connection a few minutes later. Did the writers really not see what they were doing there, making that angle of a connection with Sylvie look like a regression for Loki's character? The heck??

And then Mobius gets specifically inserted into Loki and Sylvie's dynamic, so it's impossible to not compare the subtext of both when he's the one bringing Loki and Sylvie's dynamic for the audience from the subtext into the explicit text! And that's the problem, isn't it? One cannot look at Loki's growth - look at the choices Loki makes, the way he thinks and the points he fixates on, the clothes he's still wearing - by the time he meets Sylvie, compare that to how he started the show, and not consider the role Mobius played in that change.

Plus, Sylvie doesn't stop being presented as a counterpoint once she and Loki meet. The writers just keep doing it: Loki gets a chance to react to losing both of them, he gets a chance to feel betrayed by both of them, he gets similar conversations wherein he reflects on his growth with both of them, where he genuinely promises trust, and on and on. And the writers insert Mobius as the enabler or precursor of feelings discussions, twice; arguably the discussions that make Loki and Sylvie respectively think of each other in such a context. That's wild. And we the audience are not supposed to compare?

"It's kind of hilarious, but I think they created a love triangle without actually MEANING to." They did and it is hilarious! I actually find it hysterical. I'm just along for the ride, Anon, I have no expectations of canon anything personally, so just...to look at all the tropes they accidentally included? Pfft! Insane. Also, even the physical touches become prominent on rewatch to me, because Sylvie initiates all the ones with Loki (Lamentis twice, Void, Citadel) that get the camera's zoomed-in attention, but the ones that get that extra attention from the camera with Mobius are either Loki-initiated (tie) or offered by Mobius but left for Loki to make the decision (Pilot, Void).

"There was something about her character that felt either incomplete or unknowable, and that emotional distance is apparent in her interactions with Loki." Agreed, big time. Another reason I got to the finale and like I said last reply I think, I got this sinking feeling like 'oh, she's gonna be tragic and alone, isn't she?' The writers kept her too mysterious imo. She's sympathetic, but we ultimately know too little about her. And when she has opportunities to really open up to Loki, she doesn't. Which makes the romance feel all the more forced, to me, because if the writers are just going to create and use her for plot function at the end of the day, why not leave the romance up to interpretation or lean into a siblings thing so for the first time, completely unprovoked, Loki is the one in a sibling-type relationship to be betrayed? There's still love there. There's still heart-shattering pain for him to process. "...but in adults it looks super awkward." It really, really, really does. That "teenagers inexperienced with love" quote is...yeah.

"I think was played for slapstick comedy as well as an emotional moment for the audience, and is not supposed to be perceived as full-blown torture as some fans believe." I think you're right, Anon! Because we see Sif again too and get a mythological reference, and those bits are fun. It also reads imo like one of the few times Loki would've gotten...punished? For his mischief. So of all the memories Mobius could choose, he finds a rare instance of Loki not being protected by Thor or Frigga on Asgard for an act of mischief. And it's mischief on Loki's part, not malice or any of his truly bad wrongdoings, nothing of his torturous lost year before New York, etc. I really don't think Mobius considered what Sif said in that incident, because of how he reacted later. He's human. He's allowed to make a mistake. And Loki forgave him, to which Mobius immediately after essentially sacrificed his life for Loki, so. Really don't get that torture perspective of some. 😕

#lokius #wowki #//#////#(has anyone done a gif set of Loki indignant about losing his Asgardian leather and then how he proceeds #to love the jacket Mobius gave him and roll around in his TVA uniform long after he could change it... or....?#because if not...I am Tempted.#or if anyone else does it please tag me!!#🤗#I just think it's Neat.)#anonymous #tv #commentary #answer #p;spark

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astarryon · 3 years

Text

Tame Your Demons

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, blood mention, implied assault, language, general criminal minds things

Summary: The deal you have with Spencer is simple. You call him to take care of the men looking to take advantage of innocents on the street, and he comes to ensure you don’t kill them before he gets the chance. Unfortunately for the both of you, though, things don’t always go according to plan.

A/N: This is my latest love letter to Spencer Reid and Criminal Minds! Part Two will be posted a little later this week, and will be for a slightly more mature audience, if y’all catch my drift. A big thank you to @reids-trauma for letting me run this fic by her, she’s literally half the reason it even saw the light of day. Enjoy!

Masterlist

––

You see him before he sees you.

It doesn’t hurt your feelings— it’s the norm, in any case, and it’s what typically happens each time you reach out to plan a rendezvous. Part of the agreement is that you get to set the location, and you’re always careful to pick places you’re comfortable enough to slip your way out of unnoticed in case he ever morals up and brings his team to corner you. To his credit, that hasn’t happened yet — though you’re not naive enough to give up on the idea that it ever will just yet — but never subscribing to uncertain chances was a lesson you’d learned a long time ago.

But you know you’re safe for tonight, at least. He wouldn’t be meandering around the bar for such a prolonged amount of time searching for you if there were rows of feds waiting to take you into custody as soon as you stepped foot out the door. It takes a full fifteen seconds before his wandering gaze finally touches on you, another three before the glint of recognition appears in his eyes, and by the time he’s straightening his spine and striding purposefully toward you, it’s been an entire minute. Damn. Someone was really starting to lose their touch.

“You’re late, Doc,” you simper, arching a brow as you knock back a hearty sip from your glass. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Reid huffs, crossing his arms over one another as he tries — and fails — to sidle up to you in a casual manner. You note the way he avoids touching the bar at all costs, how he folds in on himself like an exceptionally uncomfortable piece of origami. And then, of course, there’s the suit, far too dressy for a place so casual as the lively little bar nestled in the far side of downtown Georgetown. Jesus, the only way he would look like even more of an off the clock fed would be if his badge were superglued to his palm. “Getting away from the others without raising suspicion on such short notice isn’t exactly the easiest thing to pull off.”

“Yeah, well,” you chuckle, taking another sip from your glass. You make eyes at him, pointedly and conspicuously allowing your gaze to rake his lanky, suit clad frame head to toe. He looks good in the outfit he’s picked, the dark black of his jacket drawing the eye to the maroon button down he wore beneath it, and you marvel at the way his chosen color palette sets off his skin in the dim light. If Reid notices your staring or cares, he makes no show of it. Your ogling doesn’t bother him, not like it used to — doesn’t even make him blush, to your admitted dismay, though you suppose that makes sense. Spencer Reid is nothing like the sweet, shy boy he used to be. He’s not so wide eyed and naive anymore, though you’d never expected that to last very long in the first place. Still — getting a rise out of him had always been your favorite part of your arrangement. If you don’t get to keep that going, these meetings are about to become significantly less fun. “That’s the deal, isn’t it? When I call, you come running.”

“That’s the deal,” he mutters, nonchalantly waving off the approaching bartender. “And I came running. So who is it?”

You jut your lip out into a pout, resting your elbows atop the bar before settling your chin against your palms, sparing only a moment’s thought for how low the neckline of your dress must be dipping with the switch in position before casting the worry out of your mind. Were any other man your company tonight, you might have felt more concern for your modesty, but Spencer Reid was far from being anything like most men, and, honestly, the day you caught him checking you out was the day you mentally marked another tally on your side of the metaphorical score board. “Why’s it always straight to business with you?”

“Because—“

“No ‘hello’,” you go on, skirt riding further up your thigh as you cross your legs over each other. Not even a spare glance. Damn. “No ‘how are you,’ no admission of your undying love for me. If you’re not careful, Spencer, you’re going to start hurting my feelings.”

“No offense,” Spencer retorts, sounding particularly unconcerned with whether his words actually offend you or not, “but your feelings aren’t exactly my top priority right now. Arresting whoever this man is before you take it upon yourself to brutalize him is.”

“Well he’d deserve it, if I did,” you tell him matter of factly, swirling the contents of your glass as you pretend to be more interested in that than the eye-catching man just beside you. “This one likes to take advantage of young girls in clubs who accept drinks from strangers because they don’t know any better and still think there are nice people left in the world. Sometimes he keeps track, like it’s a game, and tries to see how many he can assault in a night, and this most recent time three of them made it home all right, but the fourth one turned up in a dumpster. So, yeah, Spencer, you’ll have to forgive me for figuring that if he ends up in a back alley with a couple of bruises and a broken leg he probably got what was coming to him, but don’t insult me by implying that I don’t know how to keep a promise.”

“If broken legs and bruises were all you left men with it wouldn’t be such a problem,” comes Spencer’s dry remark. “Unfortunately for the both of us, you seem to have a particular affinity for leaving men in comas.”

An affinity with which Spencer was all too familiar, you knew — not because he’d fallen victim to your habit of enacting revenge for all those poor defenseless victims, but because he’d caught you in the act with someone else. Two years later and you still weren’t positive how he’d managed to track you down. Spencer had told you minimal things — that an acquaintance on the city’s police force had reached out for his advice on a mysterious case of incapacitated men turning up in dark alleys, rarely little more than a few minutes away from going brain dead. That he’d been surprised to realize you profiled as female, considering the amount of unadulterated rage your behavior presented. That he’d made the decision to do what he could to keep from turning you in provided you help him be able to do so with a clean conscience before he’d even found you standing over some man with a white-knuckled grip on a tire iron.

“Give me your word that you’ll contact me first,” he’d instructed, a shockingly small amount of hesitancy glinting in his irises. “Give me your word that from the moment you call me, I have twenty four hours to find you so I can take care of all those awful men the right way. If I don’t make it in that time frame, they’re fair game, but if I find out that you laid a finger on them before you called me, I’ll personally see to it that you do time for every single man you’ve hospitalized. Can you agree to that?”

And you had. Partly because you had no interest in spending any prolonged amount of time behind bars, and partly because the odd sense of emotional recognition he’d gazed upon you with had been so unlike anything you’d ever been met with from another human being that you were essentially startled into instant complacency.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you sigh, downing the rest of your drink and flagging the bartender down for another. More for show than anything else, though you know the theatrics aren’t strictly necessary. Your drink of choice while out with company is much more coke than it is rum, and after two years there isn’t any doubt in your mind that Spencer is aware of that. “Has been for a while now, as a matter of fact, because he’s pompous and arrogant and wants to make sure the bait is set right for the barely legal girl he’s meeting here tonight.”

“Don’t suppose you want to share with the class the barely legal method you used to figure that one out?” Spencer deadpans, plucking your new drink from the bar and draining a few healthy sips before you even have the chance to reach for it. That’s something he’s never done before, though you suppose his repulsion to germs wouldn’t factor in one way or the other since the drink was fresh. But Spencer never indulged in alcohol around you, and was always incredibly careful to keep his guard up during these meetings. Either he was playing a different angle tonight, or something in him had drastically shifted.

“Only if you want to share with the class why I’ve been tailing this guy for two and a half weeks while you dodged my phone calls,” you retort, never breaking eye contact as you grab the glass and tilt the rim to your mouth, in just the same place that Spencer’s had been. You think you see a vein in his neck pulse as you swallow, but you can’t be sure whether the lights are playing tricks on you, so you decide not to count it. “Not like you to leave an innocent man’s life in my hands.”

Spencer arches a brow, eyes narrowing as he searches your face for something you’re not sure about. “Not like you to wait to hear back from me before doing anything about it.” He pauses, then, and more to himself than to you mutters, “And I’ve never said they were innocent.”

“Guess you’re right,” you mutter, shrugging a shoulder and leaning back in your chair as you let your eyes scan around the restaurant. The man you’re looking for is still nowhere to be found, and with the way your nerves are beginning to fray beneath Spencer’s all too calm and collected scrutiny, it’s hard to get ahold of your imagination as it barrels toward the worst case. “He’s still not back.”

“He’s probably still in the bathroom,” Spencer offers, giving an unconcerned shrug of his own. “You said he was a primper.”

“It’s been almost twenty minutes,” you shoot back, fixing him with a harsh stare. Normally you’d bother to be a bit more vivacious when speaking to Spencer, even in spite of your own irritation, but the sinking feeling in your stomach is making it impossible to pay attention to niceties. “That’s never happened before. Something’s wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” But even to you Spencer’s words sound hesitant, like he’s trying to convince rather than tell, and somehow his lack of confidence only serves to make your throat that much thicker. “He couldn’t have left already, you would’ve seen him.”

Yeah, you would have — provided you hadn’t allowed every ounce of your attention to be monopolized by Spencer. You’d been so preoccupied with trying to appeal to his attention, so hung up on matching him wit for wit and taunting and tempting him with bared flesh and sultry gazes that, truthfully, anything could have escaped your notice in the last couple of minutes. Anything. And if some poor girl ended up preyed upon, if she ended up beaten or assaulted or worse, it wouldn’t be as simple as blaming the monster taking advantage of her. You wouldn’t even be able to blame Spencer for distracting you. No— the only person you’d have to blame would be yourself.

“He’s gone,” you breathe, horror a jagged knife twisting in your stomach. Your hands shake so badly that Spencer has to uncurl your fingers from around your glass so he can set it gently down for you. “God, he’s— I let him get away. He’s gone.”

“Don’t work yourself up,” Spencer insists, and if you weren’t sure your panic was playing tricks on you, you’d have sworn you saw his hand reach out to comfort you, just as you saw apprehension tensing his expression. Of course the one thing it took to get a reaction out of him would be unbridled panic. “Listen to me, everything is fine.”

“Not for whatever girl he decided he liked enough to blow off his date for!” you hiss, and it’s a strain to keep your volume low enough not to attract the attention of any other patrons, but you manage. “We need to— Spencer, we have to stop him! He’s going to hurt somebody!”

“Okay,” Spencer tries to calm you, quickly moving to his feet. You can’t get a read on the way he’s looking at you, can’t tell if he’s taking you seriously or trying to decide if he should make a phone call to he nearest psychiatrist, but he seems to be picking up on the urgency of the situation, so you make the choice to let it go. “Let me go check the bathroom to see if he’s still here. If he’s not there, then we can start worrying.” He turns, taking three steps towards the bathroom before spinning on his heel and coming back to say, “Just— stay here, okay? Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

And as you watch his back as he makes the trek towards the restroom, you think about doing what he tells you to. Truly, you do. Spencer could walk into that bathroom and find the man you’d been planning to turn over to his custody and come back with him in handcuffs, unable to help leveling a handsome smirk at you by way of a silent I told you so. You could be panicking for nothing.

But… if there was even the slightest chance that someone innocent could be in the worst kind of danger, was it really worth leaving their fate up to a coin toss?

You’re on your feet as soon as Spencer’s out of sight, beelining for the exit and dodging between other patrons until your legs have carried you out the door and immediately to the dimly lit corner of the block, lined with the closed shops and darkened alleys the man you were after would need to get away with the unspeakable acts he planned to commit. Even as you book it to stop what you know in your gut to be happening, you can’t help but to hope that Spencer had been right. Things would certainly be easier to stomach, were that the case.

But, as you’d somehow known with sickening clarity, the closer you draw to the dark alley gaping between the buildings down the street, the more prominent sounds of a struggle become. You heard a man’s voice — deep and angry and enough to set your hands shaking and your mind blazing with fury — and then, beneath that, the muffled, whimpered cries of a young woman, the sounds of which were so pitiful that you didn’t need to have laid an eye on her to know that she was already sobbing. After that, all thoughts of Spencer effectively flew out the window. Suddenly all there was in your mind’s eye was you, some poor innocent girl having the worst night of her life, and what you were going to do to ensure that nothing bad befell her or any other girl ever again.

“Hey!” you screech, running head first into the alley. “Get the fuck off of her!”

There isn’t any time to survey your surroundings, to take stock of the fact that the man you’d known would be out here was in the process of brutalizing a young woman — one who looked to be barely more than a teen, to your unadulterated horror — nor was there time to really assess what you were barreling toward. All you knew was that your body moved of its own volition, and it was much too late to think things through once you’d collided so forcefully with the assailant that you’d knocked him bodily to the ground. It was too late to second guess yourself now, to wonder whether it wouldn’t be smarter to wait for Spencer, who could actually, legally take care of this guy. The only thing that mattered now was getting justice for everyone who had been too incapacitated to stand up for themselves.

“What the fuck?” the man hisses from beneath you, but you’re already whipping around to get a look at the frightened girl staring down at you. Her eyes are rimmed red, tears trailing down her cheeks, and to your morbid relief, you note that she appears to have no more than an expression of horror on her face.

You’d made it in time, then. By the grace of some higher power, you’d made it in time.

“There’s an FBI agent in the bar down the street,” you bark at her, struggling against the brute strength of the man you were trying — and failing — to keep pinned down. “His name is Spencer Reid. Find him.”

And that was all you had to say before she was running off down the alley and out of sight, the mercy of her safety striking such a psychological chord that you were just distracted enough for the man beneath you to throw a punch that successfully manages to clip you on the jaw, causing stars to swim in your vision as a result.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he hisses, quickly pushing himself to his feet and leering over you with a sneer. It made sense that he was under the impression that he had the upper hand— were you anyone else, he likely would have, and you’d have been little more to him than a replacement for the target you’d just saved.

But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t helpless, or defenseless, and you certainly weren’t about to let this lowlife get away with all of the things he thought he was. No — you were someone hellbent on making a lasting difference in the world, and if that had to start with this guy getting his head bashed in, then so be it. You were down a tire iron, but your rage was weapon enough.

You wait until he grabs at your shoulder, waiting for just the right moment as he fully extends his elbow before punching as hard as you can against it in the opposite direction, not pausing to hear the sickening crunch of his bone snapping before rolling to the side, jumping to your feet, and subsequently kicking out his knee with a high heel clad foot. His howls of pain are equivalent to music in your ears, but you don’t pause to revel in the sound before you continue on with enacting your justified persecution. In this moment, you aren’t yourself. You’re not sure who you are, as a matter of fact, but you know it isn’t someone willing to let this lowlife get away with the mass amounts of pain and terror he’s inflicted on so many innocents.

“You like that, baby?” you snarl, letting your foot fly against his unprotected ribcage over and over again between sentences. “Does that feel good? Hmm?”

“You—“ The man cuts himself off with a hacked cough, spluttering and moaning as blood trickles down his chin. You’re not sure if that’s because you’ve kicked him in the face without noticing or because you’ve done enough damage to have already caused internal bleeding, but you’re not overly focused on figuring it out. “You psychotic— bitch,” he spits, and the hatred he gazes up at you with is so potent that you can’t help the wicked grin that curls across your mouth in response.

“That’s right,” you murmur, hovering your foot over the center of his chest for just a moment before digging your heel into his sternum. The harder you press, the louder he roars, and the louder he roars, the more you’re inclined to ensure that his screams continue. It’s a vicious cycle, but one you’re much too fond of to let go. “I’m a crazy, psychotic bitch because I’m a woman who stands up for herself and other women, and because I won’t let shitbags like you take advantage of us. Do you even know how old that girl was?”

His face contorts in pain, hands flying to your ankle in an attempt to pry your foot off his chest, but with one arm out of commission and pain proving to be too much of a distraction, he doesn’t manage to make any significant progress in alleviating your attacks. “Fuck you,” he hisses, but even to your ears, the vulgar words sound weak and reedy.

“I’m sure you’d like to,” you shoot back, digging your heel in that much further. You wait until you see tears welling in the corners of his eyes before letting any of the pressure up, and when you’re sure he’s hurting too badly to try and pull a fast one on you, you step off his chest and kneel to the ground, straddling his torso before your hands snake up to form a necklace at his throat. “You’re not used to girls fighting back, are you? You’re not used to anyone putting up a fight, and because of that you think you can just take whatever you want. Is that right?”

His eyes bulge out of their sockets as you begin to squeeze, hissed obscenities caught in his throat with nowhere to go, and the more he claws at the manacles your hands form, the tighter you let your grip become. It’s power, what you feel as you reconcile with the fact that you’re now quite literally holding this man’s life in your hands, and for a moment, you forget everything else. That you were only in this situation because you’d set out to save someone, that you’d sent that very same someone to go and fetch Spencer to come resolve all of this, that you weren’t an angel of death enacting revenge upon those who rightfully deserved what was coming to them. All those things washed away in the night, in just the same way as the beginning rainfall washed the man’s blood onto the ground in runny pink ribbons. It was only you and him, now. Nothing else mattered.

“You know, it’s men like you,” you snarl, squeezing so tightly against his throat that your knuckles go white and your fingers stiff, “that make people afraid to walk home alone at night. To send their kids off to college, to let their little ones grow up and experience the world. Because there are always— always monsters like you just waiting to take advantage of us. And no one’s ever made you pay for that, before, have they? That’s why you’re still so cocky, and confident enough to pull this shit out in the open because you know you’ll get away with it.”

Distantly, in the back of your mind, you think you hear someone calling your name. It’s hard to say for certain; with how focused you are on enacting revenge, on making sure this lowlife feels every single ounce of pain he’s ever managed to inflict on another unsuspecting human, your senses aren’t left with much more of an attention span. Even if they had been, you wouldn’t have bothered using it. Your fury, burning your nerves like hellfire, proves such a strong beacon of desire that you have no choice but to indulge. It feels good, the way his breath catches beneath where the heel of your palm digs into his throat, and you can tell by the way his eyes are beginning to cloud that if you keep it up, if you press just a little harder, squeeze just a little more—

Warm, strong arms snake around your middle, forming an inescapable cage of iron trying to pry you off the man beneath you, and the primal snarl that rips from your throat in response is a clear threat, but it does nothing to deter them. Hyperfixated as you are on finishing the job and ensuring that the man on the ground never lives to breathe another day, you don’t have the attention to spare, but your subconscious takes in the sharp scent of cloves filling your nostrils, the soft brush of curls against your shoulder, the domineering grip shackling your wrist maintaining a surprising air of gentleness. Your name is hurriedly whispered into your ear once, twice, three times, and by the fourth round you realize they’re not whispers at all — they’re shouts.

“Let go of him,” Spencer barks, bruising your ribs with how harshly he yanks you backwards. “Listen to me, listen to me. Let go of him.”

“Get off me!” you hiss in pain, stars dancing across your vision as you feel a slight bend in one of your bones, throwing an elbow back in retaliation. It lands square on his chest, and though the resulting grunt of pain he gives is certainly satisfying, it isn’t worth the grip you lose on the man’s neck. Once you’re down by one hand, it isn’t at all difficult for Spencer to wrench the second one back, and before you know it you’re a good ten feet down the alley, kicking and screaming wildly against Spencer’s grip as the monster you’d nearly strangled to death sputtered his way back to life.

“Calm down,” Spencer snaps, voice deep and low in your ear as he adjusts his grip around your torso so that you’re more fully pressed agains his body. “You need to breathe, do you hear me? Snap out of it. She’s okay. You got here in time and she’s okay. She’s safe, and you’re safe. Calm down. Calm down.”

You want to tell Spencer that he’s wrong. That you can’t be safe, that no one can be, so long as the man groaning on the ground across the alley is allowed to keep breathing. That this man can’t be allowed to live another day, waiting for the next opportunity to take advantage of an unsuspecting stranger who didn’t know any better. That it would be better to put him down now than to wait around for him to fuck up all over again, to ruin someone else’s life.

So you do.

Or, you try to. But all that manages to leave your mouth is little more than bent sobs and broken screams.

“It’s okay,” Spencer goes on, “it’s alright. Everything’s alright.” He uses the grip he’s got on your arm to spin you around, muffling your sobs as he brings your head against his chest and keeps it there with a gentle hand rested against the back of your head. Your body’s shaking so badly against his that, with your eyes still closed, you’re certain you’re still struggling to free yourself from his grip. It isn’t until you feel your fingers — numb with cold and shock and adrenaline — curl into his jacket that you realize you’re holding onto him for dear life. “Just breathe. Just breathe. You’re okay.”

“He was going to—“ You cut yourself off with a choked sob, shaking your head profusely. “He was going to—“

“I know,” Spencer murmurs, “I know. You don’t have to explain, just breathe.”

You hate this — that he’s caught you in such a vulnerable position, that he’s bearing witness to the rapid decline of your mental state. You hate that this is what it took to finally get him to wrap his arms around you, to offer words of reassurance and certainty rather than fixing you with unimpressed looks and exasperated eye rolls. Most of all, though, you hate that he’s now seen you at your worst, and that, going forward, he’ll never quite be able to dissociate you from the monster you truly are.

You don’t know how long he holds you there, murmuring insistent reassurances into your ear as he holds you gently to his chest. For how at odds it is with every other interaction you’d had with him — those ones where he’d roll his eyes, wave you off, regard you as little more than a vapid, spoiled brat who was all too used to getting her way — it’s nearly impossible to reconcile how you’d grown used to being treated with how you were being treated now. And though it’s certainly the last thing your mind should be focussing on, though you really don’t have the mental capacity required to work through this on top of everything else, you can’t help but come to the realization that you’re actually quite fond of the change.

A voice from across the alley cuts through the careful atmosphere of misguided comfort Spencer has crafted for you, and though he won’t let you turn around — actually goes so far as to squeeze his arms more tightly around your middle so that you can’t — the very sound of the man’s voice sends you dangerously close to the edge of the precipice all over again. “Are you… the fed that bitch was talking about?” His voice is hoarse, and half his words come out in broken hacks. It’s childish in the most juvenile of ways, but you can’t help the twinge of satisfaction that sparks to life in your blood. “Arrest her! She tried to kill me!”

“Actually,” Spencer mutters darkly in response, “from where I’m standing and from what that high school senior told me, she was only trying to stop you from committing assault. If anyone here is getting arrested tonight, it’s you.”

“Are you— are you fucking serious?” The blatant shock shooting his cracked voice up two octaves might have been funny, were the situation that led to it not so horribly severe. “She broke my fucking leg!”

“Thing is,” Spencer shoots back, never even missing a beat, “they do a lot worse to rapists in prison. I’d know— I’ve seen it.” The way his voice drops as the words tumble from his mouth catches your attention, but you don’t have the time to properly contemplate asking why before he’s going on. “You ask me, she went a little too easy on you. Remember that when you finally get what’s coming to you.”

And then Spencer’s calmly leading you away, maintaining a gentle yet firm grip on your waist to keep you from trying to look back. Even if you could, you don’t imagine you’d be much inclined to. You have no remorse for what you’d nearly done, and, truthfully, you’d left men in far worse states in the past. You know that; Spencer does, too. Yet, even in spite of that, even in spite of the fact that this was the second night he’d born witness to you attempting to kill a man, his touch on your body remains soft, and he curls over you like a protective blanket.

“We can’t just leave him,” you find the strength to whisper once you’ve put a healthy amount of distance between you and the alley’s opening. The street lights grow brighter the closer the two of you get to the bar, and you’d never admit it out loud, but it makes you feel that much safer. “He’ll get away. You need to… you need to go back.”

“I called the police as soon as I went to go check the bathroom,” Spencer tells you, leading you back into the safety of the bar. Suddenly surrounded by the sounds of raucous laughter and joyful whoops, it’s almost easy to forget what just occurred outside — almost. “They were on standby in case anything went wrong, but I had them hang back until I could get you out of there safely. They’re probably in the middle of cuffing him now.”

“And the girl?” you ask, so dazed that you don’t even protest or make any sort of snappy remark as Spencer gently helps you into a secluded corner booth. “She’s... you made sure she got home safe?”

“I called her a taxi and gave her my phone number,” Spencer answers, fixing you with as reassuring a stare as he can manage. “She’s going to give me a call in the morning about pressing charges. She was scared and a little banged up, but he didn’t... nothing happened. You stopped it before it could.”

You’re too weak to do anything with the knowledge but nod and sink down to the table, protectively covering your head with your arms as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. Dark thoughts, thoughts twisted in rage and a deeply intense need to protect, continue swirling through your mind, and if you’d thought catching your breath was impossible before, it’s effectively become something of an Olympic sport now, though the reasoning for why effectively evades your understanding. What you’d been through tonight, what you’d been ready to do to that man — if he could even be called a man — isn’t anything that’s never happened before. Hell, scum like that were the very reason you’d gotten caught up with Spencer in the first place.

But… something’s different now. You can tell by the way the oxygen rattles through your lungs, the way you can’t still your shaking fingers as they clatter against the tabletop. You don’t know what it is, where it’s come from, or how to stop it, but it’s there, and you can feel it.

Fingers softly brush up against one of your wrists, startling you so forcefully from your reverie that you can’t help the cry of shock that drops from your mouth as you yank your arm back with as much urgency as if you’d been burned. Seconds pass, then ten, then thirty, and even as your subconscious mind works double time to interpret the concerned light in Spencer’s eyes in response to his touch, you remain unable to fully come back to the present.

“You need to eat something,” he tells you, casting his eyes back down to the table. It’s a testament to how much time has passed that there are now two glasses of water covered in condensation that, up until this point, you’d not even been aware were present. “It’ll help with the shock.”

“I’m not going into shock,” you mutter, squeezing your hands together and resting them in front of you. Spencer catches sight, but if he has something to say about it he keeps it to himself. “And I’m not hungry. I just want to go home.”

“And I’ll take you there,” Spencer responds, metaphorically digging his feet in. “But you need to eat something first. And drink water.”

You roll your eyes, shakily moving to stand. “I’m not—“

“Sit down.” The hard glint in his eyes, sharp and metallic as a knife, makes it clear that he isn’t asking, and against your stubborn will, you immediately do as he commands. You want to think it’s simply because you’re too tired to fight back rather than too frightened or intimidated, but then, you can’t quite be sure. At least, not until Spencer leans across the table, insistently holding your gaze in something that you think might be a warning, and it’s only now that you realize he’s been holding back his frustration in favor of seeing to your needs, just as his composure begins to slip. “I told you to wait for me at the bar.”

“Yeah, you did,” you respond with a halfhearted roll of your eyes. “You should have known better.”

“No,” Spencer shoots back, “you should have listened to me. Instead you went and broke your word, all because you had something to prove to yourself.”

You can’t help but scoff in disbelief at Spencer’s implication, momentarily startled into genuine speechlessness. Those words hurt — so much so that you really weren’t inclined to admit that they did, lest Spencer think he have more power over you than you were actually willing to give him. So instead, you pushed back the hurt and leaned into the rage. It wasn’t healthy by any means, but at this point, you’d try just about anything to cut through the debilitating numbness medicating your senses at the moment.

“I didn’t break shit!” you hiss, repressing the urge to scream. “And if you really think I did what I did because I was thinking of myself, then you’re just as bad— no, scratch that, you’re… you’re even fucking worse than the rest of them!”

And you expect Spencer to launch some scathingly cruel insult back at you, one that cuts you deeper than you’d ever known words could be capable of, because Spencer’s a genius, after all, and he’s kept up with you enough over the years that he knows how to make an insult hurt if he wants it to. To your admitted surprise, though, he doesn’t open his mouth and hurl knives your way; he doesn’t even look at you like he wants to hurt you, in the way that you’re positive you’re looking at him. Instead, he only blinks down at you, carefully analyzing the expression on your face and the fury in your words before giving you any kind of response. It’s more than you deserve, really.

But Spencer’s soul has always struck you as kind.

“You could have gotten yourself hurt tonight,” he sighs, shaking his head in what you think could be disappointment. “You realize that, don’t you? That what you did was reckless and ridiculously stupid?”

You bark a harsh laugh in response to that, shaking your head as you go on squeezing your hands together. “In case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t the one in danger. Believe me, you didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“You said he’s escalated to killing girls after assaulting them,” Spencer presses, and it’s only as you minutely glance down at the table that you realize he’s curling his hands into fists of his own. “Did you ever stop to think that if he’d managed to overpower you, that could have happened to you too?

“Well it didn’t, did it?” you snap, searching for the power to quell your sudden annoyance. You know it’s misplaced; Spencer’s only doing his best to take care of you, without saying as much in so many words. You should be happier for it; after all, hadn’t you spent years attempting to get Spencer to consider you? To leave lasting impressions on his mind? To sneak your way into his late night, private, personal thoughts? Sure, on the surface it had all been more for show than anything else, but… even if he’d never known the truth, you certainly always did. “I’m fine. Okay? Fine. I’m not going into shock—“

“You’re certainly acting like you are.”

“— I’m not having a panic attack—“

“Again, you could have fooled me.”

“— and I’m not hungry! Okay? I’m not! I just want to go home!”

And it’s lucky that Spencer had the foresight to seat the both of you as far away from the general population of the bar as possible, lest any of the unsuspecting strangers hear the two of you squabbling over something so harrowing, but even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have cared enough to bother lowering your voice. All of these people, laughing, chatting, obliviously participating in their good times, and all the while an innocent girl had nearly been violated just a few buildings away out on the street. It wouldn’t have been their fault — really, the only person that should have been held accountable was hopefully being dragged to the police station at this very moment — but the fact that life could so casually go on while a child had to suffer the worst night of their life in silence just didn’t sit particularly well in your throat.

You inhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you brace against the inky misery staining your senses. When you open them again, blinking through the stubborn tears trying to form in the brim of your eyes, you find Spencer carefully considering your face, and all you can do is hope he doesn’t notice the way your lip wobbles.

“I just want to go home,” you say again, hardly managing to get the words out in anything above a whisper. “Please, Spencer, just… I don’t… I can’t be here right now. Please just take me home.”

It’s hard to say what exactly takes the fight out of him. It could be the way you’ve said his name, softly, desperately, pleading in a manor which you’re certain he’s never heard from you before. But then, it could also be the tears welling in your eyes, far more conspicuous a sight than you’d have liked and one Spencer had only ever been confronted with once before. Whatever it is that’s done the trick, it prompts the softening of his gaze, along with the gentle downturn of the curve of his mouth. Just out of the corner of your eye, you think you see his fingers dancing hesitantly over the table top as they steadily migrate closer to yours, and though he doesn’t try to make contact with you this time, he manages to offer you an inexplicable amount of comfort as his fingers dance in a mirror image of the motions of yours.

“Okay,” Spencer concedes, frustration fading out of his expression to allow concern to take the lead. “If that’s what you need, then okay. But— just, put this on, at least.” Before you can interpret his meaning, he’s shrugging out of his jacket and pushing it across the table, and before you can protest, he’s pressing forward stubbornly. “It’s raining outside, you’re shaking, and that dress is gorgeous but it’s not going to stop you from catching hypothermia. Just wear it until we get to the car.”

He’s not leaving you a choice, judging by the glint in his eye that makes it clear he isn’t willing to hear any back talk on the subject. You consider doing so anyway — partly because you’re not sure you’re in the mood to take orders from Spencer, no matter how emotionally distressed you are, and partly because you’re afraid the weight of his jacket on your skin and the scent of his cologne in your nose would be just a bit too intimate for you to handle in this moment — but ultimately, you do as he asks, grabbing at the dark bundle of fabric and wrapping it around yourself like a blanket of protection.

It’s… warm. And it smells good, too. Embarrassing as it is, concentrating on further inhaling the scent of it — of him — is nearly enough to instantly cause your hands to cease their trembling.

“Let’s go,” Spencer murmurs, offering his hand as he stands from the table.

Wordlessly, you take it.

––

Part Two: Something of a Dangerous Game

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfiction #spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #angst #hurt #comfort #semi fluff #unsub reader #tw assault #tw violence #tw language #tw blood mention

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vidavalor · 3 years

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They’re gonna fight whether or not that article is correct and I’m hoping for peak married angst, tbh...

I have thoughts on those rumors from that site that probably isn’t legit anyway but this is basically future SamBucky plot spec so yeah...

There’s no way to make a movie or another series (or both) of TFATWS/Captain America without Sam & Bucky having some conficts. They can still be in love and on the same team and everything but TFATWS essentially sets up at least several more bits of Sam-and-Bucky-centric story. At minimum, there’s a Captain America 4 (and if there’s a 4, there’s probably a 4, a 5 and a 6) and/or another season of TFATWS at some point. Which is why it’s interesting that they end TFATWS S1 in such a place of peak romance because it’s then all about establishing that foundation for the upcoming canon and they have to have more conflict in those stories than just how many stray cats they’re going to adopt. But there’s a *ton* of potential for the growth of their relationships over whatever they end up fighting about because there will be something.

I don’t know enough about the website that started the fighting rumor thing to have an opinion on whether or not it’s legitimate. Based on what you all who have been around this beat longer are saying, it seems to not be but I’d be willing to bet that if that’s the case, that site’s been sticking around by making logical story predictions for awhile and calling them leaks. Like, I could do a few myself. Here you go lol:

-Rumor has it that Joaquin Torres will don The Falcon wings in S2 of TFATWS!

-Rumor has it that Sam will struggle with the world being obnoxiously racist to its first public-facing Black Captain America in Captain America 4!

-Rumor has it that Bucky will once again interact with the characters from Wakanda in future bits of Marvel canon!

To me, saying that Sam & Bucky will fight in the future is as sure bet likely as any of the above and so was a safe rumor to start, whether or not the site is legitimate.

Since everyone’s talking about what their dream fight scenarios are and if we can’t just have the domestic bliss versions because there needs to be a plot (sadly lol), that would eliminate my dream sequence ‘they’ve taken up boxing in their training because Sam is determined to be able to knock Bucky on his ass without mentioning how fine his ass is as a distraction’ and I give you a whole Plotty McPlot set up in TFATWS for whatever the next story beat is (Cap Amer 4 or S2 of TFATWS)... the ‘Hydra Returns’ plot.

TFATWS conveniently gave the audience way more info than Sam & Bucky know about the antagonists right now. It’s not just that Karli was working for Sharon-- the audience knows about Madame Hydra and Walker but Sam & Bucky do not. They *couldn’t* know because the story needed them to have their Delacroix romantic happy ending, not just running right out to stop Hydra but Evil Elaine and John Walker are not going anywhere and that means that Hydra is going to be resurfacing in Sam & Bucky’s plot in the future. Now, imagine Bucky’s response to learning that...

Think Bucky is going to stay in line? Think he’s going to treat this like any other mission where he’s normally willing to back up Sam & is fine with that? Oh. Hell. No.

No Hydra people are getting within ten miles of any of his Wilsons. No way on Earth.

Bucky’s going to go rogue and the plot will somehow involve him seeming to get back into Hydra-- he’s either going to go undercover against Sam’s orders/will because Sam will be like no, he doesn’t need to do this to any authority asking and tell Bucky he can’t let him do this and Bucky’s going to have to work around Sam-- ironically, the guy who has always been about making sure Bucky has the space to make his own choices after all the free will that was stolen from him. Sam is objecting because he can’t see Bucky be hurt again and this is dangerous-- more so than the Zemo situation in TFATWS, especially since Sam can’t go with him. Bucky’s going to defy Sam to go do it anyway.

He’ll be undercover with Hydra when Sam comes after Hydra, resulting in Sam & Bucky possibly having to fight one another. (And, see, if they want to add in my boxing bit or another training sequence to the beginning of the movie when they’re in their happy domestic bliss to set up how they’ll fight one another for real later in the movie, NO OBJECTIONS HERE, MARVEL...)

Alternatively or in addition to that, Hydra could get ahold of Sam and hurt him in some way. (I’m really hoping this doesn’t go the route of them trying to get Bucky to prove that he’s really one of them by trying to force him to hurt Sam so let’s hope that doesn’t happen.) I’m not sure if I buy the rumors that Sam is going to get the serum in Cap Amer 4 or the next beat of his story or whatever. He could but it won’t be willingly if it he does. The only way that could happen is if someone forces it on him or if it’s some kind of accident. It’s made abundantly clear in TFATWS that Sam doesn’t want the serum and wouldn’t take it if he had the choice. He has real empathy as well for the fact that Bucky never had the choice and lives with that everyday. If they’re tussling with Hydra, though, it’s possible that something happens to Sam and he winds up being given the serum against his will and then will need to lean on Bucky in the future for help with figuring out how to deal with that. I would prefer they don’t do this. I love the possibility of it in terms of it being something for Sam to angst over & something for him & Bucky to go through together a bit-- storywise, it has potential-- but I like Human!Sam and I think that’s a better story, ultimately, than making him a literally super superhero.

But forget the serum in question, I could just see Sam & Bucky on opposite sides of the idea of how to handle Hydra and Bucky working undercover making Sam worried but he’s also aware that Bucky is their best in to stopping them. There’s just no way that they didn’t set Walker up with Madame Hydra in TFATWS for that plot to never really again cross paths with the former Hydra assassin and his husband who spent the whole season going up against Walker. It’s going to be all about Hydra & the next beat of SamBucky is totally Hydra-angst fanfic where they go through hell but save the day because their somarried trust in one another, even if they have a moment of doubt or something, will ultimately win out.

Bonus points if it ends with them sweaty and exhausted and beaten half to death sprawled somewhere after a fight and Bucky’s just like “I’ve been meaning to tell you... I think we should get a cat.”

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #captain america #hydra #theirgonnafightlikethemarriedcoupletheyareguys #undercoverbucky #the winter soldier #and then they're gonna gets cats

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sdottkrames · 3 years

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Welcome Home My Boy (Welcome Home My Son)

✍🏼By: me, @sdottkrames

🎁For: @skeeter-110 for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

⭐️Rating: general audiences

💜Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Pepper Potts, May Parker (au where she’s not Peter’s aunt)

Summary: Tony Stark’s life is missing something. Peter Parker is an orphan who wants a family. And Pepper Potts comes up with an idea that brings them together

Read on AO3: Here

“Do you have a family?”

“Yes. And I will see them when I leave here. You Stark?”

Tony’s mind flashed first to Pepper. Then Obadiah, Rhodey, Happy. But the memories exploded with the car crash that had killed his parents and faded along with the life in the eyes of Edwin Jarvis. He had no family. He’d kept it that way, distancing himself with booze and sunglasses and a falsely confident persona, all to protect himself from being hurt even more when he inevitably lost them, too.

“No.”

Ho Yinsen had changed Tony’s life in more ways than one, but perhaps the greatest change had been through that admittance he’d been forced to give.

Ever since that whispered “no,” there had been something stirring in Tony’s chest. He’d squashed it down vehemently when a black Tetris puzzle crawled across his chest and neck like some evil game. When he’d been freed of that, he’d found a little family in his best friend and his (now) girlfriend who hadn’t let themselves be pushed too far away by his fears and insecurities.

Then his family had unexpectedly and, at first, unwelcomingly, grown. But soon the five other superheroes had forced their way into his heart and home. He rearranged the tower to house the new avengers, and found himself participating in weekly team training exercises and helping Steve Rogers of all people cook for team dinners. Game nights and movie nights and pool parties became part of the norm and Tony found himself slowly working through the anxiety and fear that carrying a nuke through a wormhole and falling almost to his death left in its wake.

His life had never been more full of family. But something was still missing.

Then he’d had the dream.

***

Pepper was pregnant.

She came to him with tears in her eyes, excitement and joy warring with worry and fear on her face, and showed him the positive test.

“Tony,” she whispered, and he found himself speechless. The joy he felt spread all the way through his chest and stilled his tongue so he answered the only way he knew how: he swept his beautiful wife into his arms, shoulders shaking a little with a joyful sob that broke through.

“You are?” He finally choked out, and saw the fear and worry leave the battlefield of her eyes and she nodded.

“We- we gotta get a room together! A crib and, and paint. What color? Grey? You like grey? That’s neutral right? Then it doesn’t matter what they are- boy or girl or even if they decide to say eff off to gender norms.”

Pepper cut him off with an ecstatic kiss, and Tony felt that stirring for something different, something more, settle and dissipate.

He’d finally found what was missing.

***

Tony woke up in tears, mourning something he wanted with every fiber of his heart, but that he feared he would never be good enough for.

He mentioned it to Pepper, and she was the one that came up with the idea.

“Tony, I want you to listen to me, and get this into your head. We’ve both talked about how we aren’t ready for kids, but I need you to know that it isn’t because I don’t think you’ll be a wonderful dad. When we decide to have kids, you will be the best dad those kids could ask for. I believe that with all my heart.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and letting himself hear her words and believe them.

“What if you volunteered at an orphanage or something?” she said. “Get around kids, fulfil that desire until we both feel ready for a family of our own?”

“That’s not a half bad idea.”

Pepper had left him to his thoughts then. Once he got that look on his face, she knew that he wouldn’t let it go.

Sure enough, Tony found an orphanage in severe disrepair and desperate need of some support. After a few meetings with his teammates to make sure they were okay with little kids coming to the tower for a bit (Natasha and Bruce had thought it sweet, Steve had smiled and got a look in his eye like he was already imagining hanging out with the little ones, and Clint and Rhodey had all agreed enthusiastically) and filing all the paperwork with the best lawyers he could find, he’d gone to the orphanage to offer his help.

May, the sweet but slightly frazzled orphanage caretaker, had burst into tears right there.

“I- I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless,” she said, chuckling through grateful sobs.

“No thanks needed. I’ll take the kiddos off your hands for a couple months while my guys fix this place up. You just tell them exactly how you want it and what you need. We’ll take care of everything.”

Three weeks, several panic attacks, and more trips to Toys “R” Us and Ikea than he wanted to admit to, Tony had one of the lower floors of the tower completely arranged to house seven small children and was preparing to welcome them into his home.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Tony,” Pepper whispered, hearing his breath hitch as the car he’d sent to pick up the kids pulled in.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Just fine. Let’s go meet our new roommates.”

***

Peter Parker could not believe his luck.

When his parents had died in a horrible car crash a year ago and he’d ended up in the orphanage, he’d been labeled as having bad luck. Every little trip they went on, something happened. He’d accidentally let the class snake out at school (May had told him about Harry Potter, and how he'd let a snake out, too, which made Peter feel better). And there was the time that he’d gotten left behind during an outing at Central park, and the time a bird had pooped on his ice cream while he was eating it outside with his best friend Ned, and the time that-

Well, you get the picture.

Joselyn called it “Parker Luck,” but she wasn’t trying to be mean. She just talked even more than Peter did, and tended to say exactly what she thought. She was one of Peter’s best friends at the orphanage, and besides, she wasn’t wrong. Peter did tend to have some not so great things happen to him.

But not today.

Today was the greatest day of his life, because today was the day that all the kids were moving into the Stark Tower.

Three weeks ago, Tony Stark himself had come to the orphanage. Peter remembered May crying and he hadn’t known why. He’d drawn her a picture to make her happy, but she explained that they were good tears, and had told him and all the kids that they would be leaving for a few months to live at Stark Towers.

Peter had nearly peed his pants in excitement, and he was quivering with it again as the car pulled up and he could see both Tony Stark and Pepper Potts through the glass door.

One by one, each kid got out of the car while a small swarm of workers gathered their things to take up for them.

“Hello, everyone,” Pepper greeted them with a smile, and Peter felt his cheeks heat up. Tony was his hero, but he also knew how smart and wonderful Pepper Potts was.

“Welcome,” Tony said, grinning.

As soon as the man spoke, Peter couldn’t help the way his eyes went wide and his mouth popped open with a gasp. He was everything the boy had imagined, standing confidently in a sharp black suit with those signature sunglasses on his face.

The two adults began to explain the rules of the tower as they took the children on a small tour. They introduced the security guards, explained who to ask for help if they got lost or hurt, where they were allowed to go and what areas were off limits, and how they would be getting to school. Peter didn’t pay too much attention though. He was too excited, taking in the sight of the tower, his hero, and thinking about how cool it was that this would be his home for a little while. He was certain nobody was luckier.

“Mr. Stark?” one of the other boy’s- Mikey- asked when they passed one of the labs they were being shown on their little tour.

“Yes?”

“Where’s your Iron Man suit?”

Tony chuckled. “It’s in my private lab, away from anybody’s hands that aren’t mine. Don’t want anything breaking them.”

“Not the Mark 50,” Peter asked softly before he could stop himself.

“Huh?” Tony’s piercing gaze was turned to him.

Squirming under the sudden attention, he tugged on his shirt. “W-well, the nanite suit, sir. Unless a person broke the actual nanite robot, the suit could just be reformed.”

“You know about nanites?”

Chocolate curls flying, the boy nodded enthusiastically. He couldn’t help himself once someone got him talking about the things he loved. “Yeah! I did a report on them a month ago. I read all your papers on them, and I even started trying to make my own so that I could-” Blushing furiously under his hero’s appraisal, Peter cut himself off and ducked his head. “Sorry.”

But Tony Stark didn’t look angry. “I’m gonna give you a piece of advice, kid: never apologize for being the smartest in the room.” He winked. “You really read my work on nanotechnology?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m impressed.”

And Peter was grateful that his legs didn’t give out right then. He could hardly believe the compliment. He was dazed for the rest of the tour, soaking the praise in with a huge grin.

Eventually, they arrived at their floor. It was a large one, and after the Battle of New York, it had stood mostly empty. There was a spacious living area and a small kitchen, and then a hallway with three bedrooms and en-suite bathrooms.

“Now, you’re going to have to share,” Tony explained. “We don’t have seven rooms on this floor, but each room has a bed and desk for you.”

“You three girls will share a room while the boys will split up in twos,” Pepper added. She gestured to one of the rooms. “This one’s yours, girls. It’s a little bigger and we’ve put three beds in it. Boys, you can decide which of the other rooms you want and who you want to share it with.”

Joselyn, along with the other two girls Kaylie and Hazel, dragged their suitcases and chatted excitedly as they entered their room. If it had been possible, Peter would have roomed with Joselyn...or Ned. But those two not being an option, he looked to the boys.

He was the oldest out of all of them. There was the four year old Greyson and the six year old twins Mikey and David. It was fairly obvious that the twins would stick together, so Peter took Grey’s hand.

“Can I be your roommate, buddy?” The little boy nodded enthusiastically. “It looks like the twins took the middle room, so we get this one!”

The boy genius led his new roommate through the door and for the second time that day felt his jaw drop.

The room was huge, and the beds looked like they were clouds, piled high with pillows Peter was almost certain were the most comfortable things on the planet. Grey seemed equally as overwhelmed, walking over to inspect the bed.

“Can you help me put my clothes away?” he asked, turning to the older boy.

“Sure.”

And slowly they got settled into this new chapter of their lives.

***

Tony was about ready to throw something at the wall, which meant that he needed to get out and move around, distract himself from the problem before he actually did break something. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he didn’t want a repeat of the great Potts meltdown of ‘09.

Sighing, he stood up and stretched, letting a loud yawn out as he did before wandering out of the lab.

It had been nearly a week with the little kiddos staying at the tower, and Tony had enjoyed having them so far. He even invited them up for dinner and a movie the other day. Most of them had been totally starstruck and it had made him smile. He figured they might provide a decent distraction, so he wandered down to the “baby floor,” as he called it.

He was delighted when the first face he saw was Peter Parker’s.

The boy was shy, but also unfailingly kind. Tony had seen him take the hand of the smallest boy when the two twin boys ran into their room, making the little one feel welcome and loved; had watched as the kid listened to his friend Joselyn, who tended to ramble, with a patient and kind smile, never seeming annoyed by how verbose she was; and had smiled as the kid let one of the other girls hold his hand during a part in Snow White that scared her.

He was exactly the sort of distraction that Tony needed.

“Hey, Pete. How’re you doing?” he greeted, smiling a little as the boy’s cheeks turned pink and his lips lifted in a small, excited grin when he was called by name.

“G-good, Mr. Stark. How are you?”

“I’m doing good. A little frustrated with a project I’m working on, so I figured I’d take a break and come see you kiddos. How was school? Learn anything good?”

Peter’s eyes lit up as they had the first day the older genius had met the kid and they bonded over nanotechnology. Tony smiled as the chatter about 2nd grade science (they were learning about cells) and math (how was an 8 year old already doing functions?!) swept his frustration right out the door with its soothing familiarity. He didn’t have to figure anything out or meet any deadline. All the kid wanted was someone to listen.

So Tony did, oohing and mmhmming in all the right places, until the kid asked: “So what project were you working on before? Maybe I can help so you’re not so frustrated? can I?”

He’d known how sweet Peter was, but Tony was still taken aback by the kindness. “Well, if you want to-“

“Sure!” The little eager beaver said quickly. “What’s the project?”

Hesitating only for a second, Tony explained how Clint’s explosive arrows weren’t working properly, detonating too soon because of an unstable chemical inside them.

With a few graphs and a little breaking down of some more technical terms, Peter understood the problem.

“Let me think a little bit, okay?”

“Sure, buddy,” Tony chuckled. “However long you need.”

And he let the kid think while he checked some emails and wandered into the kitchen to grab him and his mini genius a granola bar.

He stopped for a moment before joining Peter at the table, his steps halted by the adorable crease in the boy’s brow and the way his tongue poked through his teeth as he drew some diagram.

When Tony finally pulled himself together to sit down against and offer Peter the snack, the kid announced: “I got it!”

Surprised, Tony raised an eyebrow and motioned for Peter to continue.

“What if you use your nanites? You could engineer them in a way that they wouldn’t jostle or affect the catalyst. Clint could control when they fell away, which would cause the explosion to happen.”

He pushed the little picture he’d drawn to illustrate, compete with a stick figure Clint Barton in purple (Hawkeye’s theme color), and Tony let his jaw go slack.

“Kid, honestly, I’m impressed. That’s genius. How in the world did you think of that?”

Peter flushed under the praise, and explained the process to Tony, the latter encouraging him whenever he seemed self conscious about his rambling.

“You, my friend, are one of the smartest kids I know. Would you like to help me build these arrows?”

Peter’s eyes widened to the size of a dinner plate. “What?”

Tony chucked. “They’re your idea, kiddo. It’s only right that you should help me make them. I’ll handle all the explosive parts, but I think you should help engineer the nanites.”

“I would love to!” The boy choked out.

“Great. After school tomorrow, come to my lab. Jarvis will know where to take you.”

“Okay!”

Tony stayed a little while longer, enjoying talking science with Peter, before being called to other projects. He was grateful for the distraction though, because he couldn’t wait to see the look on the kid’s face when he saw the lab.

And, boy, Peter did not disappoint.

When Jarvis opened the door, Peter’s jaw dropped and he practically flew to one of the Ironman suits. Talking a mile a minute, he inspected every inch of the lab.

“Oh my gosh, what’s this?! Wait, no way, is that- it is! Mr. Stark this is amazing! And woah look at that!”

Tony just chuckled at the kid’s enthusiasm, and pulled his attention to the reason for their working together after a few more minutes’ exploration.

The two spent hours in the lab together. Tony hadn't ever thought he would enjoy sharing his lab with anybody, let alone an 8-year-old child, but Peter was different. He found himself wanting Peter to come help him more often.

This is only temporary. A cynical voice inside him said.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be. Maybe I can give him a real internship and a real job? Said the more hopeful part of his brain.

A seven year old with a job. Yeah, that’s a great idea.

Tony shook his head to clear off the thoughts. He would enjoy the lab time he did get with this kid that had somehow wormed into his iron heart. He’d just have to baby proof the lab first.

***

Peter fought back the tears, trying hard not to let Flash’s taunting get to him. He kept walking, ignoring his classmate’s teasing behind his back as he nearly ran out the front door.

“Hi, Mr. Happy,” he greeted, trying to keep the sniffling out of his voice. The man Mr. Stark had assigned to drive him to and from school didn’t like little kids. (At least, Peter thought he didn’t. He wasn’t mean, but he seemed to grunt and growl more than use really words.)

“Hey,” Happy grunted, as was his usual greeting, and Peter didn’t notice the concern in the man’s eyes when he didn’t answer right away as he blinked back tears.

The drive to the tower was quiet except for the occasional snuffle from Peter, who was trying to his sadness. He hated when Flash was mean, especially about his parents. He missed his parents and his Aunt and Uncle. It was right of Flash to bring them up, but there wasn’t much Peter could do about it.

When he came into the tower, he was surprised to see Mr. Stark there, waiting for him in the living room. Usually the man had him come straight to the lab, but they hadn’t been scheduled to work together that day.

“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted.

“H-hi. Are we having a Lab day today?” Peter tried to keep the hope out of his voice. Tinkering around the lab with his hero was exactly what he needed to cheer him up.

“I was thinking we might spend some time in the lab, yeah. If you’re up for it?”

“Yeah, i'd love a lab day, sir!” Peter said, smiling his first genuine smile since Flash had said the word “orphan” at lunch.

“Yeah? Let’s go, young padawan.”

Peter gave a small smile at the Star Wars reference. Mr. Stark wouldn’t have known that reference if Peter hadn’t rambled about the franchise one of their last Lab days, which then led to the man insisting they watch the movies together so Peter could “make sure he understood what was happening.” He was pleased Tony seemed to have enjoyed the endeavor! The pleasant feeling followed him as they went to the lab and began working on the housing unit for the nanites in Clint’s arrows.

Tony, however, kept a watchful eye on his little friend.

Happy had texted saying that something was off with the kid, and while Tony had no experience with children prior to the last few weeks, he did have experience with being a genius and an orphan. He figured tinkering would be a good distraction, and he’d wager he was correct after seeing the look of relief and excitement on Peter’s face when he was invited to the lab.

It wasn’t until they had the housing unit almost complete that Tony decided to actually broach the subject.

Though working with his hands seemed to have stemmed the tears Happy reported seeing in the car, the boy was definitely off. He sniffled more than once, and didn’t seem as talkative or enthusiastic as he normally did. There wasn’t a single excited ramble about his friends Ned or Jocelyn, or whatever the last thing they learned in science was.

“So, Peter. How was your day. You haven’t said much.”

Tony didn’t miss the tears that misted the boys eyes slightly

“It was fine,” he said, turning back to his project with a barely concealed sniffle.

Tony felt slightly awkward and unsure. He’d never had a conversation like this with a little kid before. Heck, he was barely getting to the point of speaking openly to his girlfriend and best friend about some things. But if he wanted to someday have kids, he figured he’d need to start getting used to stuff like this. With a deep breath, he took the plunge.

“Buddy, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s okay. But, uh, if you do want to talk about whatever is bothering you, you can. I mean, I’m all ears or whatever. I can blast or make fun of or drown in ice cream nearly any problem you have.”

Peter hesitantly turned towards him. “I-it’s really nothing. I’m f-fine.”

“I’m real sure, kid,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, is everything okay?” The hesitation in the boy’s eyes warred with the desire to tell what had happened. “C’mon. Out with it! The sooner I know who or what I need to blast, make fun of, or drown in ice cream, the better we’ll both feel.”

“W-well It’s this kid n-named Flash.” Peter began twisting his shirt into knots as he finally gave in. “He was just making fun of me for not having parents and he just b-bothered me more today, I guess.”

Tony’s heart squeezed in sympathy. He had plenty experience of his own being an orphan and dealing with bullies.

“Since I can’t blast a kid with my repulsars, although he maybe deserves it for being such a jerk,” he finally answered, “and I don’t feel right making fun of him, either, I’m going to settle with drowning it in ice cream. I know a great place just up the street, whaddya say?”

There was a small smile, which Tony saw as an absolute win, and then a shy nod, and Tony whisked the boy away for ice cream.

“Ya know, kid, none of what this Flash kid says is true,” he said as he licked his mint chip cone. “You’re not unlovable, or unworthy of parents. You didn’t do anything wrong the day they died. You couldn’t have been a better son. Trust me. All those things are utter nonsense.”

Peter stared at him dumbfounded. “H-how did you know?” He whispered.

“I’m an orphan too, ya know. I lost my parents many years ago, but I definitely know a little of what you’re feeling and dealing with.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Anytime, kid. Anytime,” Tony said. “Now, are you drowning enough in ice cream? Do you need more chocolate sauce? You look like you need more chocolate sauce.”

Peter giggled, and Tony couldn’t help the slow smile that stole across his face as he went to go get more chocolate sauce, determined to keep that little boy smiling as long as possible.

***

“Um, can you find it in an aquarium?”

The science genius duo was enjoying their usual time in the lab and Tony had begun a session of “I’m thinking of an animal.” His animal was a hippo, which he’d felt fairly confident about until this last question.

“I don’t know, kiddo, I’ve never been to an aquarium!”

Dropping his jaw and his screwdriver, Peter spluttered out an incredulous, “what?”

“I’ve never been to an aquarium.” Tony shrugged.

“Oh, man. You don’t know what your missing, Mr. Stark! There’s fish and turtles and sometimes even hippos and alligators. My favorite are the turtles.” Peter's Big brown eyes widened and Tony grinned in anticipation of the child-like excitement that was sure to follow in whatever story the kid was going to tell next. “One time, there was this huge sea turtle and it came and swam next to the glass right where I was sitting for literally five minutes. My mom took tons of pictures. It was so cool!”

Tony chuckled. “That sounds really cool, bud.”

“It was! Did you know that some turtles only lay eggs every four years?”

They continued working and sharing weird animal facts and Tony was again startled by the desire to make this little kid smile.

“Jarvis, buddy, can you look up the nearest aquarium?” He asked when Peter had left to go to bed.

“That would be the New York Aquarium.”

“Does it have turtles?”

“It does.”

“Hippos?”

“No, sir. But the Philadelphia Aquarium does.”

“Get two tickets to the New York one for this Saturday. And clear my schedule for that day.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

A few days later, Tony was nearly bouncing with excitement as he waited for Jarvis to bring Peter up to the penthouse for them to go to the aquarium.

“Mr. Stark, is everything okay?” The boy asked as he exited the elevator.

“Yeah, kiddo. Everything’s just fine. We’re going on a little field trip, though.”

“We are?” Peter’s eyes lit up. “Where to?”

“That’s a surprise!” Peter’s grin widened to match Tony’s. “My schedule’s all clear. You good to go?”

With a floppy-haired nod, they were off.

The little boy had no clue where they were going, and Tony indulged 20 questions, but by the time they arrived, Peter was no closer to figuring it out.

“Wait...an aquarium?” He gasped when he got out and took in the building.

“They don’t have hippos or alligators, but they just got a couple turtles. I figured after hearing about how wonderful aquariums are, I should try and go to one, and I thought you could show me around.”

Peter didn’t hesitate one moment, unabashedly grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him into the aquarium. They presented their tickets and the younger genius continued to drag the older genius around from exhibit to exhibit with huge smiles on both their faces. Like Peter, Tony’s favorite part were the turtles. The way they gravefully swam through the water and their kind faces made him feel peaceful and warm and fuzzy. And Peter’s little hand in his while he spouted off lots of facts about turtles made him feel even more so.

But the kids were leaving within the next couple weeks, and those pesky thoughts were back, marring the joy a little. Tony dutifully beat them back, aided by the peaceful feeling of being with Peter and the kid’s head modded off onto his shoulder on the way back to the tower.

***

Peter had nightmares more than he wanted to admit.

They woke him up shaking with his heart beating so fast and hard he could hear it in his ears. The worst part about them, though, was how they would linger, seared into his eyelids. Scary images of his parents and aunt and uncle as their plane went down in flames replayed themselves over and over.

Sniffling back tears, Peter decided to quietly sneak out of the room. He didn’t want to wake his little roommate.

“Hello, Peter,” Jarvis greeted, making him jump even though he knew the AI well. (Tony had even started helping Peter code his own when the boy showed interest.)

“H-Hey, Jarvis.”

“It is quite late for you to be up. Or early, depending how you look at it. Are you well?”

“Just can’t sleep. I’m heading for a snack, that’s all.”

“I think I have something that might help, if you’ll follow me, sir.”

The AI lit up a pathway and Peter shrugged before following it. He thought Jarvis would lead him to the kitchen, but instead he found himself staring at a door that definitely wasn’t for a kitchen. He’d never been to this part of the tower.

“Uh, where am I?”

“You’re outside Mr. Stark’s bedroom.”

His stomach flipped like a monkey after a banana, and Peter stumbled backwards.

“Jarvis,” he hissed. “I can’t wake Iron Man up! Why’d you take me here. I thought you were bringing me to the kitchen for a snack!”

“I did not say that I was, only that I had something I thought would help.”

“No, I’m not going in there. I’ll find the kitchen myself,” he said, backing away as quickly as he could.

But it was too late.

A light flicked on and before Peter could turn around, the door opened to reveal a sweatpants-clad Tony Stark.

“Peter? What’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice was shaking and tear were burning his eyes. He’d gotten closer to the man the last month and a half they’d been together, but this was beyond embarrassing. He couldn’t ask Iron man to help him with his nightmares. “I couldn’t sleep and thought Jarvis was leading me to a kitchen for a snack.”

“No worries kid. C’mon. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Y-You really don’t have to do that, Mr. Stark. I’m okay, I swear.”

Tony rolled his eyes, ruffling Peter’s curls and throwing an arm around the kid’s shoulders to lead him down the hallway. “It’s not a problem, buddy. I don’t mind cooking.”

So Peter was lead to the kitchen, and he was surprised how much better he was feeling not being alone. This was the second time Mr. Stark had saved him from being alone like this, and it felt really nice. He would miss it when he went back to living at the orphanage in a few weeks when the renovations were done. Sometimes, he would imagine what it would be like if Mr. Stark was his real dad, or adopted him, but he knew that would never happen. He usually tried to stop those daydreams fast.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That looks really good,” Peter said, breaking out of his thoughts to take the toast with butter and jelly that he was offered.

It was quiet as Peter ate, Tony sitting next to him in companionable silence. Once the plate was empty, the bolder genius spoke up. “Again, kiddo, you do not need to explain, but if you want to talk about what’s got you up at nearly 2 in the morning, I’m all ears.”

Peter felt tears well up in his eyes. He had done so well not crying in front of his hero and he didn’t want to start now. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists to keep the tears from falling, but he was grateful to talk to someone.

“Um, I keep having dreams about- about my parents. The, uh, the day they went on the plane that crashed? And they just make me sad.” He shrugged. “S-Sometimes it’s hard to go back to sleep after I have one.”

“I have dreams like that, too,” Tony whispered.

Just like when the man had practically read his mind, saying exactly what Peter had needed to hear when Flash made fun of him the last week, a shock went up Peter’s spine. “Really?”

Tony sighed. “Yeah, I do. I lost my parents, too. Car accident. I also have dreams about being stuck in Afghanistan, in that cave, or in the wormhole. They’regetting better, though.”

“That must be really scary, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, patting the man’s arms.

“Heh. I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, kiddo.”

“Well, we all need comfort sometimes.”

“Thank you, buddy. How are you feeling?”

Peter looked up shyly. “Better. Thanks for the food.”

“No problem. Wanna watch something? That usually helps me fall back asleep.”

“Okay!”

They chose Iron Giant, and Peter felt so comfortable as Tony threw a blanket over him and pulled him under his arm. Slowly, his eyes drifted closed.

Tony watched as the little boy fell asleep, his heart melting and wrapping around his finger even more. After a few minutes to make sure the tyke would stay asleep if moved, he slipped his arms around the little body and carried him up to bed.

As he closed the door and saw Peter’s chocolate curls poking over the blanket, his tears prickled with tears at the realization he would lose this in a couple days.

Shut up he vehemently told that pesky little voice, and went back to bed, but didn’t get much sleep.

***

There were tears in everyone’s eyes, but Tony was going to blame it on May, who greeted him with tears of gratitude. All the kids gave her hugs before running off to explore the new building, chatting excitedly as they ran to the new beds and play area.

“Mr. Stark-“

“Tony, please, May.”

She smiled. “Tony. Seriously, though, I cannot thank you enough. You have no idea how much this means to us. How much this means to me.”

See, this is why he was blaming May for the misty eyes. “Not a problem. The pleasure was all mine. It’s a special group of kiddos you got there.”

“They really are. And thanks to your help, the orphanage got some media attention, and now I’ve got people interested in the twins and a couple of the girls! I hope they all find good homes.”

“That’s amazing, May!” Tony said, and he meant it. Every single one of the kids had found a way into his heart, but none more than Peter. And the thought of that little boy going to another home caused another round of tears to come, though he quickly blinked them away.

“Mr. Stark!” As if called by Tony’s thoughts, Peter came bounding up, throwing a hug around the man’s waist. “This is amazing. Not as amazing as the tower, obviously, but this is a close second. Thank you so much!”

Tony hugged the boy back and assured him that he was happy to help, all the while trying to pretend his heart wasn’t breaking.

***

“Tony, this is ridiculous,” Pepper said, marching into his lab after the fourth day in a row of him being there.

“What is, dear?” He asked, deflecting as usual.

Pepper raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her crisp blue suit. Even under her scrutinous glare, Tony had to admit she was gorgeous.

“You know what, dear. Peter’s gone and you’re back to moping in the lab.”

Acid curled his stomach, and he had to look away. “Well, what do you want me to do. Yeah, I miss the kid, and I’m trying to work through it. Just...just give me few more days.”

“You won’t survive another few days, Tony. You’re not invincible, you know.” She came over and ran a comforting hand through his hair, and his eyes closed of their own accord, trying to hide the tears. “Tony, what if...what if we adopt Peter?”

His eyes shot open. “What?”

“What if we adopt Peter?” She repeated. “You clearly love him, and I’ve watched him with you. He loves you, too. And I...I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s so sweet and it’s impossible not to love him.”

“You’re serious?”

Pepper smiled. “100%. Tony, you’re ready. We’re ready. Let’s start a family.”

And just like in his dream, Tony couldn’t say or anything except pick his girlfriend up and spin her around.

“Thank you,” he said, tears in his eyes again. “I love you.”

***

Peter loved the new orphanage. He really did. The beds were as comfortable as the tower’s, and there were lots of cool toys and a new playground.

But Mr. Stark wasn’t there.

Peter tried to deny how much he missed him. How much he missed his own dad and how Mr. Stark helped fill that void a little with lab days and movie nights. He’d even helped Peter when Flash was mean and he’d had a nightmare.

And he missed him.

It also didn’t help that Jocelyn and Greyson got adopted, and the twins might be as well. People had been buzzing at the orphanage ever since the renovations. The media had run a few stories on how the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had taken in the group of orphans and funded the renovations of the building. People had been coming ever since, but none of them really connected with Peter.

He hated to admit it, but he compared all of them to Mr. Stark, and none of the fit. Besides, they all wanted the younger kids.

“Peter!” May called, interrupting his moping. “Come here, sweetie.”

“Coming, May!”

He jumped off the swing set, running towards the orphanage, but screeched to a halt as he saw a familiar face. Two familiar faces.

“M-Mr. S-Stark? Mrs. Potts?” He stammered out. “W-what’re you doing here?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted. He looked nervous- a hand running over his carefully defined goatee, feet shifting back and forth, fingers clasped with Pepper’s.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, buddy, everything’s fine. We, uh, we were wondering if,” he hesitated and Pepper squeezed his hand. “We would like to adopt you, Peter. If that’s something you’d be interested in?”

Shocked, Peter couldn’t say anything, which was a rare thing for him. Or so his parents used to say.

“Really?” He finally choked out.

“Yeah, sweetie,” pepper said, smiling kindly. Peter was surprised. He’d gotten close with Tony, but not as much with her.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Tony grinned at him. “Well, say yes, buddy! We got a room all ready for you and a team of the best lawyers to make it official if you want.”

“Yes!” Peter said, throwing himself into their arms. “Yes, I want to!”

Again, everybody was crying (happy tears) and once all the paperwork was filled out, Tony took Peter’s hand.

“Let’s go home,” he said, his heart at peace finally, the nagging sensation of something missing finally filled by the little boy who was now his little boy.

“Home,” Peter repeated, smiling. His new favorite word.

#mine #the friendly neighborhood exchange #I hope you enjoy this friend!

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #233: The Annihilation Gambit!

July, 1983

“Up against... the BARRIER!”

Pretty cool cover!

So here’s the thing. This is a crossover with Fantastic Four. John Byrne even gets a credit for breakdowns and co-plotting.

I’m not going to completely cover the related FF issues but I’ll dip into the relevant parts of them.

For example, let’s discuss Fantastic Four #254 which coincided with the ending of Avengers #232. The thing with the fleeing crowd that didn’t know what they were fleeing and the invisible wall She-Hulk bonked off of? What’s the deal with that?

Allow me to summarize.

The Fantastic Four went off to explore the Negative Zone and had a series of weird and silly adventures. They left Alicia behind to babysit Franklin but Annihilus popped out of the portal and took them captive. This happened back in #251 so he’s had the run of the place for a while!

He’s been making modifications to the Negative Zone Access Portal and adapting the generators. For whatever reason, switching the machine on sends out potent fear waves which causes everyone to flee the area of the Baxter Building. There scene where She-Hulk and Wasp see the fleeing crowd and bonks off an invisible wall repeats.

And that’s all you need to know! Annihilus is messing around, potent fear waves, invisible wall, Avengers!

Now let’s get to the Avengers part of this crossover.

The Avengers issue of Avengers starts with Captain Marvel booking it over New York musing about what an eventful day she’s had as a full-fledged Avenger.

What with having to rescue President Reagan after he was taken hostage by soggy swamp men. Then Eros (Starfox) showed up and insisted on joining. Then Monica, Starfox, and Thor went off to catch Plantman who engineered the presidential hostage thing. All of that in only six hours!

Monica Marvel Rambeau is on her way to the mansion to give her report when she too bonks into something.

Captain Marvel: “It was as if I bounced off some sort of invisible wall! But that doesn’t make sense!”

Yeah, it really doesn’t!

As Monica herself points out, the wall is invisible ie light is going through it. So her light form should be able to go through it too!

Its a very selective invisible wall, apparently. And it gives her a weird ominous feel to touch.

But she’s not going to let sleeping walls lie and decides to try different energy forms to see if anything can get through.

Annnnnnd. Radios, cosmic rays, electricity, infrared, x-rays, and even gamma rays can’t get through. Although, Monica has the feeling that the wall gave a bit under the gamma, but not enough to matter.

Monica detours around the wall and heads back towards her original destination. AVENGERS MANSION!

When Monica arrives, cool team leader Janet the Wasp van Dyne is talking with the police. Obviously the police aren’t equipped to deal with an invisible dome.

At the least, though, Jan uses the NYPD data-link to figure out where the giant dome is centered.

Also, Wasp has another new outfit. This is the same day.

But its pretty snazzy black and purple so I won’t complain.

Monica tells Jan that Big Trouble is brewing and Jan is basically like ‘oh god now what’ but thankfully Monica and Jan are on the same case.

MEANWHILE, Steve Rogers’ modest Brooklyn Heights apartment. Where Steve Rogers is not having a conversation about his feelings with his girlfriend Bernie Rosenthal because his feelings are classified!

Steve Rogers: “In a way. It’s Avengers business!”

I’d mock this but what has Steve bummed and pacing like a caged bear is that Tony Stark, his good pal who he’ll never Civil War with, has quit the Avengers, gave Iron Man up to someone else, and is trying to drink himself to unconsciousness.

Which is very concerning! But also something you can’t really share the full details of without revealing a lot of secrets that aren’t yours to reveal! I feel like you could at least say ‘I think my friend is an alcoholic but won’t accept my help’ without spilling secrets but shrug.

At least Steve is open with Bernie. Yeah, she knows he’s Captain America!

Truly, the man is a role model. Not just as a superhero but also on dating.

Steve gets a BZZZT on his snazzy cool radio wristwatch, possibly the coolest thing to wear on one’s wrist ha ha don’t think about Avengers wearing Apple Watches.

Anyway, Jan updates Steve on the invisible - and expanding - dome. And that weirdly, there doesn’t seem to be anyone trapped inside because everyone ran away from it because its inexplicably spooky.

So Steve rushes off to Save The Day, stripping mid-run because that’s the kind of casualness and comfort you can have in a relationship where you’re open and honest.

See how Steve didn’t have to make up a half-assed excuse? Maybe think about that, Spider-Man. You’re not in this scene but maybe think about it.

Meanwhile again, the Baxter Building.

Where thankfully for people not reading Fantastic Four, we get an echoed scene where Annihilus motive rants at captive audience Alicia Masters.

Basically, Annihilus is feeling very bummed that Blastaar stole his Cosmic Control Rod in Marvel Two-in-One #75. For one thing, it really tied his whole outfit together. For another, without it, Annihilus isn’t immortal and he’s freaking out about dying. And not dying eventually, he’s apparently got Doom-level messed up face now from how he’s degrading.

So really the only real way to come to terms with mortality is to destroy two whole universes so you don’t die alone.

Annihilus broke Reed’s Negative Zone Access Portal and used its power core to power his own impenetrable NULL-FIELD. Which I guess is the invisible dome.

Annihilus: “How wonderfully ironic -- that a device which once produced a gateway between two universes should provide the power to utterly destroy them!”

I’m missing some middle steps here but basically invisible dome -> ??? -> destruction of the Negative Zone and the, uh, Positive Zone.

A MEEP MEEP from a computer which may be a roadrunner gets Annihilus’ attention and he sees to his shock that She-Hulk has planted her feet and is trying to bodily hold the dome back.

It’s not working but its slowing it almost imperceptibly and even that’s supposed to be impossible.

Annihilus: “What manner of creature is this?!”

I’d guess gamma-powered She-Hulk is having a tiny bit of luck against the dome for the same reason that Captain Marvel did when she tried gamma radiation.

Wasp, Captain America, and Captain Marvel show up to help She-Hulk.

She-Hulk tells the other Avengers that the invisible dome keeps “oozing over everything inanimate” but that she(-Hulk) can’t stop it.

Cap suggests using his shield despite the risk of losing it inside the dome.

Because, when Captain America uses his mighty shield, all who oppose his shield must yield. So maybe he’s onto something.

She-Hulk plants the shield in the ground in the path of the dome.

So good news/bad news.

The dome doesn’t swallow up the shield. But the dome just pushes the shield, carving a little furrow in the ground.

That cracks me up a little, I will not lie.

I don’t know why Cap’s super cool shield is exempt from getting schlorped up by the null-field but now they have a good idea where it is without having to bonk!

Speaking of bonk, Thor and Starfox come to join the party and Starfox runs right into the invisible wall.

Hee hee hee.

He also drops right into She-Hulk’s arms and they have a mutual banter moment.

She-Hulk: “Hmm! I’ve never had anyone fall for me like this before!”

Starfox: “I assure you it was totally unplanned... but rarely have I fallen into such open and inviting arms!”

If I recall correctly, they do hook up at one point and then years later She-Hulk beats seven kinds of shit out of him when the question arises of whether his powers influenced her into it.

At least Starfox is receptive and she’s not stalking Ben Grimm.

Anyway, Thor tries his hand at busting the null-field by shooting a bunch of lightning at it. Even though Captain Marvel tells him she already tried electricity.

Thor gotta Thor though.

And when the field stands firm against all the lightning, he gets pissed and hurls his hammer into it.

Mjolnir flies into the field, loses steam, and just pitches gently to Earth.

Bit confusing. I wonder why Cap’s shield can’t go through the dome but Mjolnir can.

BY THE WAY, THEY LEFT CAP’S SHIELD JAMMED AGAINST THE DOME.

They don’t comment on it but you can see it still gouging up the pavement. I guess they’re using it to mark where the dome is?

Amazing.

Anyway, Thor marvels at how Mjolnir left no mark on the invisible barrier and how its not returning to his hand like it should. Clearly there’s some weird property of the barrier interfering with Mjolnir.

Cap points out yeah thats interesting but isn’t there something that happens if you have Mjolnir out of hand for too long?

So Thor runs away and turns into Normal Doctor Donald Blake in an alleyway where nobody can see it happen.

Again: amazing.

Thor is basically out of the story because Normal Doctor Donald Blake can’t do anything to affect the barrier and he can’t get Mjolnir back while its up. So he’s just going to be twiddling his thumbs.

MEANWHILE, at Cross Technological Enterprises.

Hawkeye tries to cajole inventor Jorge to build some contraption for him but the man protests that he designed it in his spare time but if he builds a working model on staff, CTE will own the invention.

Unless someone approves a sub-contractor waiver that will let him keep the rights but who would do such a thing for him??

Hawkeye decides that as head of security he’ll do such a thing. I don’t know if head of security has any kind of sway like that but I imagine that won’t stop Hawkeye from insisting that he does.

Then Hawkeye hears about the Avengers dealing with the dome thing and gets sad that he can’t be out there with them.

Hawkeye: “Blast it, I oughta be out there with the rest of the Avengers! But, as long as my leg’s in a cast, I’m a liability to ‘em... until I prove otherwise!”

Maybe focus on letting your leg heal!

I don’t know what nonsense you’re brewing up and I know that months is forever in comic book time but maybe just take the time and let your leg heal up!

Back over at the Avengers, Cap and Wasp now justify to the others why Thor took off. Claiming that they sent him on a scouting mission. Captain Marvel objects that scouting is her specialty, what with the lightspeed dash, so Cap claims that brute force isn’t helping so its more important to have Captain Marvel’s versatility here.

Leading She-Hulk to snark that brute force not working doesn’t give her a lot to do.

Starfox has become instantly bored with the plot because he’s here for adventure dangit, so he wanders off to go flirt with an EMT.

Because Starfox.

A Quinjet arrives, because Wasp has put her true superpower to work.

The power of NETWORKING!

Aka, she placed a call to Vision and Scarlet Witch and they just showed up to help.

Wasp explains the situation and Vision decides he’s going to intangible through the field.

Vision: “Interesting. It does have an oddly unsettling ‘feel’ to it!”

Then he walks through and instantly collapses face first into the asphalt.

The Avengers’ bumbling attempts to deal with the null field are almost farcical really.

Scarlet Witch is alarmed by her robot husband faceplanting so tries to use her plot-resolving probability powers on the invisible barrier but to no avail.

OH NO HER DOES ANYTHING POWER DID NOTHING!

She bangs on the invisible wall yelling Vision’s name but Cap tells her “that won’t do any good!”

True but c’mon. Her robot husband just collapsed. Have some understanding.

Although I wonder what’s going on here.

The field goes over inanimate objects but doesn’t let Cap’s shield through. Mjolnir and Vision can go through it (although Vision does the intangible) but lose power shortly after entering.

Then again it is called a “null-field.” It probably does whatever it wants.

I’m just wondering whether Vision counts as an inanimate object or not. He’s very animate but he’s not strictly speaking biologically speaking alive.

Meanwhile, in the Baxter Building, Annihilus is laughing up a storm at the Avengers’ silly hijinxes. But mostly in the ‘they thought they could stop me’ sense.

Annihilus: “Lesser beings such as these are helpless before the genius of Annihilus! They do not deserve to live -- just as I do not deserve to die! I curse the fates which have robbed me of my rightful immortality! But even though life slowly ebbs from the dissipated body within my exo-skeletal armor, still shall I be Annihilus... still shall I be He-Who-Annihilates!”

And he pulls the Big Dramatic Lever.

Outside, Starfox is still flirting with the paramedic while she asks whether he should be helping the other Avengers?

Starfox: -squishes her face- “Alas, I am not a full Avenger. I am but a trainee, at the others’ beck and call! If they want me, they will call.”

And then he tries to make out but she’s distracted by the Baxter Building suddenly glowing with an awesome power.

And Starfox freaks out. He freaks out so much that he realizes that now is not the time for making out. That’s how alarming things suddenly are!

Paramedic: “Brighter than the moon... glowing like there’s no tomorrow...”

Starfox: “I fear your choice of words is most apt!”

And then he wanders back on over to the Avengers to tell them how messed up everything is.

Something occurs to me.

The Avengers don’t really have a Smart Guy TM currently. Tony left them in the lurch in that regard. And they tried to recruit Hulk again (apparently in Incredible Hulk #285).

Cap(tain America), Captain Marvel, Wasp, She-Hulk, and Thor are great. But they’re not people who can look at a thing and instantly jump to a correct conclusion about which technobabble will keep things from bad.

I think... Starfox may have become the Smart Guy TM of the team by default because he does have advanced space learning even though I’m pretty sure he napped through advanced space learning science class.

My god, the state of things.

Anyway, Starfox directs the Avengers’ attention over to the Baxter Building. Within the invisible field, there’s a second glowing field. And based on Starfox’s brains, the invisible field is a null-field (yes, that’s true) which cancels out all energy within, except at its focal point. Uh, sure. I think if all energy was cancelled out, we’d see way wilder effects but sure.

The glowing field is positive energy. And when the glow meets the invisible, it will cause the universe to merge with the Negative Zone AND THEN DESTROY THEM BOTH.

See, this is something that’s known on Titan. They just study ways to destroy everything apparently, nbd.

Starfox even mentions that his brother Thanos knows about this but “not even my brother Thanos was mad enough to test it!”

I dunno. I feel like Thanos is exactly mad enough to do that. I also feel like Starfox doesn’t know his brother was well as he thinks. So, yeah.

Hence, they’re all doomed. I mean, unless there was some way to penetrate the null-field BUT WAIT, Starfox says, didn’t Captain Marvel feel the field give slightly under gamma radiation? THEN THERE STILL MAY BE HOPE!

Yeah... Yeah. Starfox is the Avengers’ Smart Guy now. God.

Its like a reverse-Beast. He came to be a smart guy but the Avengers’ had plenty of those so decided to be the fun guy.

Starfox came out just to have a good time and he has to use his space brains to save reality.

(Also, its because of Same Face but Starfox even looks like Reed while he’s transitioning from doomsaying to figuring out the whole thing just by panicking and explaining things)

So after the Avengers do some calculations and preparations, Captain Marvel blasts off into space!

Cap(tain America) estimates that they only have twenty minutes and that a lot can go wrong.

Then a giant shouty bug man appears in the sky to shout.

Annihilus: “PEOPLE OF EARTH -- HEAR NOW THE WORDS OF ANNIHILUS! YOU ARE HELPLESS BEFORE ME! I AM YOUR DEATH!”

“The destruction of all that lives has ever been my goal -- but never have I had the means to kill so many! The time of universal death is at hand! I see among you those who are known as the Avengers... those who you would call heroes! Hah! They cannot save you! They are as helpless as the accursed Fantastic Four!”

“There is no hope for anyone this day! This is the day that Annihilus dies! And as I die, I shall reach out and I shall shake the very foundations of two universes! AND ALL SHALL PERISH WITH ME!”

Not gonna lie.

That’s a damn good villain speech.

You’ve got the villain head in front of an apocalyptic pink sky. You’ve got evil gloating. You’ve even got some dunks thrown at the superheroes because you just know that average civilians will be like ‘the Avengers will save us!’

Pretty good rant, Annihilus.

“Meanwhile, in the vacuum of space, the lightform of Captain Marvel has already flashed beyond the orbit of the moon”

Amazing.

Simply amazing.

Captain Marvel nyooms past the moon and traverses 93-million miles to go to the sun.

Which, even at lightspeed, takes over eight minutes.

A helpful reminder that even the ability to go as fast as light doesn’t necessarily mean you can get everywhere instantly. Cosmic distances are vast.

Captain Marvel nyooms around the sun, so close that even in the form of a light, she can feel the Sun’s gravity.

This is all some great stuff.

Then, Captain Marvel melds with a coherent light beam fired from solar satellite Starcore-One and transforms it and herself into a gamma ray laser beam NYOOMING right at Earth.

Blasting through the null-field just in time to interrupt more of Annihilus’ villain ranting.

Annihilus: “Prepare to make your final accounting, mortals! These are your last wretched moments of... eh?”

And then with a SKRAKATA SKRAKATA BOOM, the null field and positive energy fields are neutralized.

She-Hulk who was casually leaning on an invisible wall FLUMPS to the ground.

Wasp assembles the Avengers still milling about and tells them to move on the Baxter Building since Annihilus might still have tricks up his sleeve.

With the null field gone, the terrified crowds of onlookers are now just confused onlookers and want to get back to what they were doing before they started panicking.

Normal Doctor Donald Blake has to reach through the crowd of legs to grab Mjolnir so he can become Thor and rejoin the Avengers.

Y’know, before someone starts pondering why they haven’t seen him in a while.

Scarlet Witch notices sudden Thor and since everyone else ran off without paying any mind to Vision (geez, what the hell, the Avengers? He’s your good pal chum!) she begs Thor to help.

Scarlet Witch: “Thank heavens, you’ve returned! The Vision was injured somehow by that null-field! I... I can’t find any vital signs! His synthetic body is too different for the paramedics to do anything! Help us! Please -- !”

Thor slings Vision over shoulder exactly like you’d expect a buff Norse god to do and reassures Wanda that they’ll find someone to revive Vision.

At the Baxter Building, the Avengers very courteously go in through the front door because there’s just a lot of defensive systems that may or may not be active. And anyway, Wasp has a key to the special elevator.

Apparently, Wasp is such good friends with Sue Storm that she was given one of those special lasers incorporated into her new costume that opens the elevator doors.

I’ll have to check with my friend who liveblogs Fantastic Four to see if Jan shows up much. Because Sue has shown up a couple times in Avengers to build the idea that she and Wasp are good friends after their cool brunch but I haven’t heard of the reverse.

When the Avengers get to the 34th floor to confront Annihilus, they find that it’s been taken care of off in Fantastic Four.

The caption tells me for the full story to see that issue #256 and for once, I will.

(Interestingly, while Byrne got a co-plotter credit on this Avengers issue, Stern doesn’t get the same in the corresponding FF issue which really suggests who the driving force of the story was.)

Over in FF #256, the FF are stranded in the Negative Zone for reasons but have also noticed the null-field and positive field thing going on. Reed works to limit the effects of the fields merging to only the Baxter Building instead of the whole universe, which will also help the FF return home. He also hopes that someone on the Earth side of things “an Avenger perhaps” is also taking action.

Which, yeah. Captain Marvel’s whole thing where she launched herself at the Baxter Building from the Sun.

While she’s doing that, the thing that Reed is doing starts shorting out the circuity that Annihilus is using.

Then, Captain Marvel’s appearance causes the console Annihilus is working at to explode in his face, destroying his life-support armor.

Annihilus tries to activate the ‘destroy the universe’ thing manually but because of Reed’s machinations, the Fantastic Four get pulled back into the universe and Annihilus gets booted into the Negative Zone.

Its implied that Annihilus dies here but ha ha ha no he’s going to show up again without explaining how he survived. What a dick.

The Fantastic Four pop back into the Baxter building with the colors in their outfits changed because of technobabble. Reed instantly accosts Captain Marvel for being someone he doesn’t recognize but Thing tells him who she is and defuses things.

Thing runs off to take Alicia to the hospital, Sue runs off to look for Franklin, and Reed and Human Torch put out all the fires.

And that’s where the books sync up so back over to Avengers.

The Avengers meet up with the FF and compare notes and Reed starts trying to technobabble explain the change in uniforms when Wanda interrupts and asks someone to help Vision.

Reed examines Vision and comes up with some good news.

Vision is, more or less, okay. When he entered the null-field it drained his energy and disrupted his synapses but there shouldn’t be any permanent damage. The robot coma is Vision basically fixing himself up but Reed could speed up the process and help him recover faster.

And then Sue comes in with an unconscious Franklin.

Everyone drops everything to immediately rush off to the hospital, leaving Wanda and coma-Vision alone.

I mean. Kinda rude. Its entirely fair for Reed and Sue to run off. Its their son. And Johnny flies ahead to alert the emergency ward. But does the situation really need Starfox, Captain America and She-Hulk?

(The FF issue actually shows that Captain Marvel stuck around. She barely knows Wanda and Vision and she’s actually being courteous to them. Geez.)

I’ll give Thor a pass because he can turn into a Perfectly Normal Doctor. But really? Everyone is just leaving Wanda alone? Just like they left Vision just passed out in the street?

The Avengers are being dicks to Vision and Wanda today!

Follow @essential-avengers and like and reblog perhaps. Because I wouldn’t leave Vision lying passed out in the street and I haven’t even been his friend for years. Just saying.

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beastars-takes · 4 years

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Zootopia Takes: Darker’s Not Better

The Shock Collar Draft

So, it sounds like people are largely positive on me doing some Zootopia posts on this blog, and I wanted to talk about this tweet I saw the other day:

I’ll punt on explaining why Beastars isn’t “Dark Zootopia”--that’s a great topic for another post. But I would like to talk about why this popular yet stridently uninformed tweet is so, so wrong. Why the shock collar draft was not better, actually.

And obviously, I’m not writing several pages in reply to a single tweet--this is a take that’s been around since the movie came out, that the “original version was better.” It’s been wrong the whole time.

Let’s talk about why!

Part 1: “Because Disney”

Let’s start with this--the assumption that the film’s creators wanted to make this shock collar story and “Disney” told them to change it.

That’s not how it works.

I try to keep stuff about me out of these posts as much as possible, but just for a bit of background, I’ve worked in the animation industry for about half a decade. I know people at Disney. I have a reasonable idea of how things are there.

There is this misconception about creative industries that they’re constantly this pitched battle of wills between creative auteurs trying to make incredible art and ignorant corporate suits trying to repress them.

That can happen, especially in dysfunctional studios (and boy could I tell some stories) but Walt Disney Animation Studios is not dysfunctional. It’s one of the most autonomous and well-treated parts of the Disney Company.

The director of Zootopia, Byron Howard, isn’t an edgelord. He made Bolt and Tangled. He knows what his audience is, and he’s responsible enough not to spend a year (and millions of dollars in budget) developing a grimdark Don Bluth story that leadership would never approve. It wouldn’t just be a waste of time--he would be endangering the livelihoods of the hundreds of people working under him. Meanwhile, Disney Animation’s corporate leadership trusts their talent. They don’t generally interfere with story development because they don’t need to. Because they employ people like Byron Howard.

Howard and the other creative leads of Zootopia have said a dozen times, in interviews and documentaries, that they gave up on the shock collar idea because it wasn’t working. They’ve explained their reasoning in detail. Maybe they’re leaving out some of the story, but in general? I believe them.

But Beastars Takes, you say, maybe even if Disney didn’t force them to back away from this darker version, it still would have been better?

Part 2: Why Shock Collars Seem Good

I will say this--I completely sympathize with people who see these storyboards and scenes from earlier versions of the movie and think “this seems amazing.” It does! A lot of these drawings and shots are heartbreakingly good, in isolation.

I love these boards. They make me want to cry. I literally have this drawing framed on my wall. Believe me, I get it.

But the only reason we care this much about this alternative draft of Zootopia is that the Zootopia we got made us love this world and these characters. You know what actually made me cry?

Oh, yeah.

So let’s set aside the astonishing hubris of insisting Zootopia’s story team abandoned the “good” version of the story, when the “bad version” is the most critically-acclaimed Disney animated feature in the past SIXTY YEARS.

“But Beastars Takes!” I hear you say. “Critics are idiots and just because something’s popular doesn’t make it good!”

Fair enough. Let’s talk about why the real movie is better.

Part 3: The Message (it is, in fact, like a jungle sometimes)

This type of thing is always hard to discuss, in the main--a lot of people don’t want to feel criticized or “called out” by the entertainment they consume, and they don’t want to be asked to think about their moral responsibilities. But it’s hard to deny that Zootopia is a movie with a strong point of view. Everything else--the characters, the worldbuilding, the plot, grows out from the movie’s central statement about bias.

And the movie we got, with no shock collars, makes that statement far more effectively.

To dive into the full scope of Zootopia’s worldview and politics (warts and all) would be a whole post on its own, so I’ll just summarize the key point of relevance here:

Zootopia's moral message is that you, the viewer, need to confront your own biases. Not yell at someone else. No matter how much of a good or progressive person you consider yourself to be--if you want to stand against prejudice you have to start with yourself.

That’s a tough sell! For that message to land, we need to see ourselves in the protagonist.

Judy’s a good person! She argues with her dad about foxes. She knows predators aren’t all dangerous. She’s not speciesist. Right?

Ah fuck.

Let’s fast-forward to the pivotal scene of this movie. In an unfortunate but inevitable confluence of circumstances, Judy’s own biases and prejudiced assumptions come out, and she shits the bad.

Nick, who’s already bared his soul to her (against his better instincts), is heartbroken. But not as heartbroken as he is a minute later when he tries to confront her about what she’s said, and she makes this face:

Whaaaat? Come on, Nick. I’m a good person. Why are you giving me a hard time?

People like to complain about this scene. That it’s a hackneyed “misunderstanding” trope that could be easily resolved with a discussion. They’re wrong. Nick tries to have a discussion. She blows him off.

This isn’t Judy acting out of character, this is her character. Someone who identifies as Not A Racist, and hasn’t given the issue any more thought. This is not only completely believable characterization (who hasn’t seen someone react this way when you told them they hurt you?) it’s the film’s central thesis!

Yes, Nick somewhat provokes her into reaching for her “fox spray,” and her own trauma factors in there, but she’s already made her fatal mistake before that happens.

(As an aside, people also make the criticism that the movie unrealistically deflects responsibility for racism onto Bellwether and her plot. It doesn’t. All the key expressions of prejudice in the film--Judy’s encounter with Gideon, her parents’ warnings, the elephant in the ice cream shop, Judy’s early encounters with Bogo, Judy's views on race science--exist largely outside of Bellwether’s influence. She is a demagogue who inflames existing tensions, she didn’t invent them. Bogo literally says “the world has always been broken.”)

So, anyway. But we love Judy. She’s an angel. She also kinda sucks! She’s proudly unprejudiced, and when her own prejudice is pointed out to her she argues and doesn’t take it seriously. This is bad, but it’s also a very human reaction. It’s one most of us have probably been guilty of at one point or another.

Look at Zootopia’s society, too--it’s shiny and cosmopolitan, seemingly idyllic. Anyone can be anything, on paper. But scratch too deep beneath the surface and there’s a lot of pain and resentment here, things nobody respectable would say in public but come out behind closed doors, or among family, when nobody’s watching. It’s entirely recognizable--at least to me, someone who lives in a large liberal city in the United States. Like Byron Howard.

Wow, this place is a paradise!

Wait, what’s a “NIMBY”?

Part 4: Why Shock Collars Are Bad

So, with the film’s conceit established, let’s circle back to the shock collar idea. Like I said, it’s heartbreaking. It’s dramatic. It’s affective.

It also teaches us nothing.

If I see a movie where predator animals are subjected to 24/7 electroshock therapy, I don’t think “wow, this makes me want to think about how I could do better by the people around me.” I think “damn that shit’s crazy lmao. that’d be fucked up if that happened.” At a stretch, it reminds me of something like the Jim Crow era, or the Shoah. You know, stuff in the Past. Stuff we’ve all decided couldn’t ever happen again, so why worry about it?

The directors have said this exact thing, just politely. “It didn’t feel contemporary,” they say in pressers. That’s what it means.

If anything, the shock collar draft reifies the mindset that Zootopia is trying to reject--it shows us that discrimination is blatant, and dramatic, and flagrantly cruel, and impossible to miss.

And...that’s not true. If you only look for bias at its most malicious and evil, you’re going to miss the other 95 percent.

The messaging of this “darker version” is--ironically--less mature, less insightful, less intelligent. Less useful. Darker’s not better.

Part 5: Why Shock Collars Are Still Bad

So what if you don’t care about the message? What if you have no interest in self-reflection, or critical analysis (why are you reading this blog then lmao)? What if you just really want to hear a fun story about talking animals?

Well, this is trickier, because the remaining reasons are pretty subjective and emotional.

The creators have said that the shock collar version didn’t work because the viewers hated the cruel world they’d created. They agreed with Nick--the city was beyond saving. They didn’t want to save it.

The creators have said that Judy was hard to sympathize with, not being able to recognize the shock collars for the obvious cruelty they were.

Fuck you, Judy!

But we haven’t seen the draft copies. We haven’t watched the animatics. We have to take their word for it. Anyone who’s sufficiently invested in this story is going to say “well, I disagree with them.” It doesn’t matter to them that they haven’t seen the draft and the filmmakers have. The movie they’ve imagined is great and nobody is going to convince them otherwise.

But the fact remains that the shock collar movie, as written, did not work. And, if behind the scenes material is to be believed, it continued to not work after months and months of story doctoring.

There’s even been a webcomic made out of the dystopian version of Zootopia. It’s clever and creative and well-written and entertaining and...it kind of falls apart. The creator, after more than a little shit-talk directed at Disney, abandoned the story before reaching the conclusion, but even before then the seams were beginning to show. How do you take a society that’s okay with electrocuting cute animals and bring it to a point of cathartic redemption? You can’t, really. The story doesn’t work.

Does that mean people shouldn’t make fanworks out of the cut material? That they shouldn’t be inspired and excited by it? Hell no. This drawing is cute as hell. The ideas are compelling.

But I suppose what I’d ask of you all is--if you’re weighing the hot takes of art students on Twitter against the explanations of veteran filmmakers, consider that the latter group might actually know what they’re talking about.

See you next time!

#zootopia #zootropolis #zoomania #zootopia takes #judy hopps #nick wilde #disney #chief bogo #byron howard

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