#it looked painful but like maybe if I had some sort of anti-pain agent
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h
#NeoCells#what am I supposed to say#god he should do this to me#wait no he shouldn't#or?#no#it looked painful but like maybe if I had some sort of anti-pain agent#no there'd still be other problems#also I'm normal
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walls {steve rogers}
summary: steve just wants to look after you - even if it means breaking down your insanely stubborn walls.
warnings: swearing, mentions of blood + stitches
- jazz
Steve Rogers was overprotective.
Everyone knew it - you knew it, his team-mates knew it, his best friends knew it. Heck, the crazy old lady who lived across the hall from you knew it. Most of the time, it was pretty endearing; he’d refuse to let you walk alone in the dark and he’d make you text him when you were home safe. You knew that he was your ride-or-die, your partner-in-crime and your best friend all rolled into one. It was the sort of thing that people found their lives searching for but rarely found. Perhaps you’d been one of the lucky ones.
But, working in such close proximity to each other - and especially in a line of work where doing dangerous things was literally in your job description - could often be a source of friction. You both tried hard to work around it, but sometimes things came to head in an unavoidable way and you just had to deal with it. Steve’s overbearingness was the very anti-thesis of your rebellious tendencies and, like a match being struck, a fire was bound to start.
‘You didn’t listen to me!’
‘I did listen to you!’ You were moving around the apartment, attention half on unpacking your things and the other half on ripping into Steve.
‘So why didn’t you follow my orders?’ He was stood in the door way, a stony look on his features and his arms folded tightly across his chest. ‘I told you to get out before the agents could open fire on you-’
‘- and I got them before they did!’ You cut him off, throwing him a glare over your shoulder. ‘I had every one of those HYDRA bastards out cold before they could even reach for their guns!’
‘That’s not the point.’ Steve’s voice was cold, almost accusatory. ‘The point is that you went against my direct orders-’
‘- save it, Rogers.’ You slammed your wardrobe shut, kicking the empty bag under the bed. ‘I still have to stitch myself up and I don’t have the energy to fight with you.’
‘You need stitches?’ Right, that only made it worst. Great going, moron. ‘Why didn’t you go to medical when we landed?’
You groaned. ‘Because I couldn’t be bothered, okay? I’ve spent the last five days in rural Russia hearing Barnes and Wilson argue over weaponry tactics and I just wanted to get home and having a fucking coffee.’
Steve decided he couldn’t argue with that.
Pushing past him, you headed to your bathroom to find the first-aid kit. It wasn’t anything bad - just a small wound on your thigh. It would have been much easier to let the medic deal with it back at the base, but as you’d said to Steve, you just wanted to get home. It was much more pleasant to do it in within the walls of your own home, even if your stitches were usually a little wonky.
After ditching your SHIELD uniform for an old t-shirt of Steve’s, you propped your leg up on the counter and unwound the bandages you hastily forced on there in the quintjet bathroom. You could have stitched yourself up there and then, but the turbulence had made things a little bumpy and Thor had been banging on the door for the better part of ten minutes. Whatever genius had lead Tony Stark to put only one bathroom on those jets was beyond you, but you’d made a mental note to write him a strongly worded email.
‘Shit.’ You murmured. Even after years on the job and hundreds of stitches, they still hurt. ‘Fuuuuuuuck.’
‘Sweetheart.’ Steve’s voice came from the doorway. ‘I know you’re mad at me, but please let me help.’
Admittedly, you wouldn’t have sustained the injury if you’d just done as he’d said. Both of you were very aware of the fact but bringing it up would have simply been salt in the wound.
‘I don’t need help.’ You grunted. ‘It’s not even that big of a wound.’
‘You can’t downplay a knife wound-’
‘- it wasn’t a knife!’ You protested. ‘It was just another form of bladed, metal weapon.’
‘So...a sword, then?’ He took a step closer to you, warm hands coming to rest on your shoulders. ‘Surely that’s worst?’
Letting out a groan, you dropped the needle in defeat, taking a seat on the edge of the bath. The super soldier crouched in front of you, a large palm resting on your thigh to keep it still as the other went to work on closing your wound.
‘These look like Y-incision stitches, doll.’
‘I’m a field agent, not a doctor.’
‘Thankfully.’ He muttered. ‘I’ll get some pain killers for you from Bruce in the morning.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ You replied. ‘I’m fine, I swear.’
‘It’s more for me, actually.’ Steve quirked a brow at you. ‘You’re a real grouch when you’re in pain and I have to live with you.’
Steve was fluent in...well, you. He knew exactly what to say and exactly what to do to get you to do things (usually in the form of looking after yourself). You would never admit that you needed painkillers but you would take them if he insisted that it made life easier for him. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book - and you were completely aware of his play.
‘In that case, I suppose I should take them then.’ You casually shrugged.
‘Thank you.’ He leant up to give you a kiss on the cheek.
After giving the wound one final clean, Steve wrapped a bandage around your thigh and picked you up, carrying you back to the bedroom. He placed you down on the bed and took a seat beside you. The post-fight tension quickly returned, seeping into the nooks and crannies of the temporary truce you’d found in the bathroom. The issue was still there; you were still mad at each other.
‘Next time something like that happens, please go to the nurse.’ Steve gently reached out to you, placing his hand over yours. ‘It might injure your pride but that won’t kill you.’
‘It might.’
‘Baby.’ He groaned. ‘I can live with you ignoring my orders but I can’t live with you getting hurt because of it-’
‘- it’s a few stitches. Stop being a drama queen.’
‘What if it’s not a few stitches next time?’ He let go of your hand, twisting to face you so that he was resting on his side. ‘What if it’s a knife to your chest? Or a bullet?’
‘It won’t be!’ You said. ‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘Every agent who’s died in the field has probably thought the same.’ Steve shot back.
‘We both work in an area with high risks.’ You reasoned. ‘You’re going to have to learn to live with the fact that I’m going to get hurt.’
‘I know that.’ He reminded you. ‘But I just...I give you those orders for your safety. I don’t do it to boss you around or to piss you off. I do it so that you don’t get killed.’
‘Steve-’
‘- so that I don’t lose you.’
All pride aside, he kind of had the upper hand here. You were utterly terrified of the prospect of life without Steve, and it was foolish to assume that it didn’t go both ways. You were so desperate to hold onto him and to keep him by your side, but you never stopped to think that he did the same. Everything he did, he did for you. You knew that, but it was easy to forget when your pride got in the way.
‘You’re not going to lose me.’ The words breathily escaped your lips. Steve took you in his arms as they did, reaching out to you to pull you into his chest.
‘Please try and understand where I’m coming from.’ His tone wasn’t pleading, but you could sense the desperation in his words. ‘I know it was just a few stitches today-’
‘- I do.’ You cut him off. ‘I do understand, I swear.’
‘You know I love your stubbornness, but it’s not worth much unless you’re alive and in one piece.’ Steve said. ‘Please just promise me you’ll try and listen?’
‘I promise.’ You quickly replied.
‘And I know I’m asking a lot now, but please start going to the nurse-’
‘- Rome wasn’t built in a day, Stevie.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Maybe ask me about that next week?’
‘I’m starting to think you like it when I stitch you up.’
‘I was never denying it.’
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x you#steve x reader#steve x you#captain america x reader#captain america imagine#avengers x reader#avengers x you#avengers fan fiction#avengers imagines
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Out of Time [1]: Steve x Reader
Series Masterlist
Summary: After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…
Word Count: 5565
Warnings: Canon typical violence, time travel, injury of major characters
You don’t know how it went so wrong. You’d been on a mission with the team. A few former SHIELD scientists that were suspected to have been working under the influence of Hydra had been spotted in the same vicinity, raising several red flags. After a few days of recon, you’d managed to track down the location of their lab. When the team had busted the door in, ready to take them down, they’d already been expecting you.
The place was full of hired mercenaries and ex-members of the SHIELD Strike team. They’d put up quite a fight. Sam, Clint, and Wanda held down the ground floor while you and Steve had made your way to the upper level. Two agents held you off in close combat while six others took on Steve at the same time. Even six to one, they were having a hard time restraining the Super Soldier, but they managed to keep him pinned just long enough to allow one of the scientists to inject him in the neck with some type of black substance.
“No!” you scream, turning absolutely feral. Throwing caution to the wind, you mercilessly take on the two agents fighting you and they soon end up on the floor.
As Steve falls to his knees, the six other agents grab the scientists and leave out the back door. You rush forward and drop down, skidding across the floor to catch Steve by the shoulders before he can faceplant into the floor.
“Steve!” you call desperately. “Steve, look at me!” Your hands grip his face, trying to guide his eyes to yours, but they’ve turned hazy and unfocused. Perspiration has begun to collect on his brow and the veins at the injection site on his neck have started to turn black.
You lift a hand to activate the commlink in your ear. “Requesting immediate evac. The Captain is down. I repeat, Captain America is down.”
The rest of the team rendezvous to your location and it takes all of you to get Steve out of there and onto the Quinjet. You grab a tablet and bring up the life sign readings programmed into his suit. You watch with dread as his heartbeat wildly fluctuates between too high and too low, while his body temperature continually climbs.
As soon as the jet has landed back at the Avengers base, he’s carted off to the infirmary, where Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho are already waiting for him. You pace up and down the hallway, unable to rest or step away for even a moment to change out of your uniform. Your stomach is tied up in knots and you can’t get the image out of your head on how his face just went completely blank as soon as they had injected him.
You halt your movements and look up when the door opens and Bruce steps out. Seeing Bruce’s face on the Hulk’s massive body was still a little unsettling, but you have started to grow used to it.
“How is he? Is he okay?” you rush out.
Bruce’s poker face is terrible as he pulls off his glasses and fails to meet your gaze. “He’s stable for now… but no, he’s not okay.”
You cup a hand to your mouth and release a pained whimper. “What-” your voice breaks and you have to clear your throat before you can try again. “Do you know what they injected him with?”
“From what we can tell, it seems to be some sort of anti-serum venom. It was made to specifically target the Super Soldier serum enhancement in Steve’s cells.”
You feel the dread sink like a weight in your stomach. “What can we do to stop it?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Wanda grabbed the syringe from the Hydra lab, so we have a small sample of the anti-serum for analysis. But without a pure sample of Steve’s Super Soldier serum, it could take months to synthesize a cure. And he doesn’t have that long.”
The lump in your throat grows and it becomes difficult to swallow. “How long does he have?” you almost don’t want to ask.
You see the answer in his eyes. “This anti-serum… it’s aggressive-”
“Bruce,” you cut him off, urgency in your gaze. “How long?”
“A few days… maybe a week.”
Your whole body blanches and you stumble a few steps until your back hits the wall. The thought alone was inconceivable. Steve… Your Steve… Gone in less than a week? Haven’t you both been through enough? You shake your head fervently, straightening your spine and pushing off the wall. “No,” you deny, allowing your anger and frustration to bolster your strength.
“Hey…” Bruce attempts to reach out to you.
“No!” you coil back. “No, I won’t let that happen.”
“We will do everything we can, but without the original serum-”
“Then I’ll get it for you,” you state with finality to your tone, a plan already forming in your mind.
Bruce looks at you, perplexed. “How?”
Instead of responding, you turn on your heel and march down the hallway. Pulling out your phone, you bring up your contacts and dial the number you need. You’re talking as soon as the line picks up. “Hey Scott, remember that favor you owe me?”
--
It takes a full day of preparation before things are ready. You grow even more anxious with every minute that passes. Every single tick of the clock is one less second Steve has to live.
Seeing him in the infirmary had nearly broken you. Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho were keeping him sedated to help slow the spread of the anti-serum, but the damage was already beginning to take its toll. It was working its way through his body like a poison, starting in the bloodstream, but if left untreated, his organs would begin to fail systematically. Normally, Steve’s Super Soldier serum would help defend his body from something like this, allowing him to metabolize it out before it could do any harm. But, somehow those Hydra scientists found a way to target the original serum first, to weaken his body’s defenses and let the venom take over. It must have taken them years of research to develop something like this and you only had days to reverse it.
You had never seen the Super Soldier look so weak and sickly. He had lost all color, his skin pale and beginning to verge into an ashen grey. He looked thinner like he had been bedridden for weeks, not just a day. His cheeks were gaunt and dark bags had appeared beneath his eyes. When you reached out to touch his hand, it was deathly cold and your heart had skipped a beat. You didn’t understand how this could be happening so fast to the strongest man you had ever known.
You’d pushed the hair off his forehead; no longer a shiny blonde, but more of a dull straw color; and pressed your lips to his skin. “You’ve come to my rescue so many times, Steve. It’s time for me to return the favor. Please, hold on, just a little longer, until I get back.” You then place a gentle kiss to his lips, a single tear dropping from your eye and landing on his cheek. You wipe at the wet trail with your thumb before you step back and release a shaking breath. “I will make it back,” you promise both to him and to yourself.
--
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Bucky asks, helping you in to your quantum suit.
It’s good that most of his memories were back. He was your best source of information for getting the correct dates, times, and places so you could successfully accomplish your task. Not only that, but you had needed a quick and dirty rundown on etiquette, behavior, and style for the time period. It felt like you had enough bobby pins and hair spray to keep your hair as still as a plastic doll. Not to mention the signature red painting your lips.
“You can’t,” Bruce speaks up from where he stands behind the console for the platform. “The infinity stones were the only thing holding our reality together when we time traveled the last time. Those stones no longer exist in this reality. Since she isn’t coming back with them either, there may be repercussions from this. She should go alone because she doesn’t already exist in that timeline.”
“I’ll be okay, Bucky,” you give him a tentative smile, unsure if you’re telling the truth.
Based on the look in his eyes, you know he’s reading you easily. He gives your arm a squeeze in reassurance. “Stay out of trouble. The punk will kill me if anything happens to you.”
You nod and begin to step away, heading for the platform. You shift on your feet, mentally psyching yourself up for the journey. You release a long breath before signaling to Bruce that you’re ready. You meet Bucky’s gaze one last time. “Be right back,” you tell him before your helmet pops into place and you’re flying through the quantum realm.
--
You land in 1943 without much fuss, quickly dissolving out of your quantum suit before anyone catches you in the empty alleyway. You fix any flyaway hairs and straighten your outfit and then walk out onto the main street. It’s a bit of a trip, seeing all the old-fashioned cars driving past and the dated outfits and hairstyles that everyone wears. The movies and pictures that you’ve grown up seeing don’t quite do it justice. However, it does remind you of the sketches Steve sometimes shared with you whenever he was feeling nostalgic.
You give yourself a second to marvel at everything, but the thought of Steve helps to sharpen your focus and bring yourself back on track. You step onto the sidewalk, behind a group of young school children with their mothers in tow. Walking passed a newspaper stand; you take a quick glance at the paper to make sure you’ve landed at the correct time. Monday, June 7th, 1943.
Breathing a breath of relief, you move to the edge of the sidewalk and hail a taxi. Soft, jazzy notes fill the air of the car from the radio, helping to ease the tension in your shoulders. The song is also familiar to you, because of Steve. You give the driver the address to your destination and soon find yourself pulling up in front of Brooklyn Antiques. You pay for the taxi with a set of vintage coins you’d been able to acquire before leaving your time. You shuffle out of the taxi and head into the shop.
The bell above the door dings and you enter the space. An older woman in a soft pink sweater steps out from the backroom to greet you. “Did you hear the ball game last night?”
Your mind races as you try to recall the answer to the code that Bucky had told you about. They would change them daily and randomly rotate through a long list of them. “Yes, but I only wish I had some Cracker Jacks,” you respond.
She nods once before moving behind the cashier desk and presses the secret button beneath. You try to steady your pounding heart as you walk to the back room and stand in front of the bookshelves. After a moment, the shelves begin to move to reveal a set of hidden doors. You roll your shoulders back and walk with confidence into the hidden laboratory.
The energy in this place buzzes like a beehive. The tan military uniform you wear allows you to blend with everyone else. People give you a casual side glance before turning back to what they had previously been doing. As you walk down the hallway toward the main room, the sound of raised voices grabs your attention.
“You’ve had more than enough test runs! Stark’s machine works. Your formula is ready for development. All that’s left is the man.”
Looking to your left, you see that it’s Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine that are arguing inside the observation room. Dr. Erskine shakes his head, with an exasperated look on his face. “But it can’t be just any man, it has to be the right man!”
“We’ve been at this for months! Week after week, we run training exercises on a new group at Camp Lehigh, and you’ve denied every single one! Do you realize how much money this has cost us? We have to pay the scouts that send men our way. Gotta pay the buses that bring ‘em to the camp. Lodging, food, uniforms, supplies. Enough is enough. You have one week to find your man for the next round of recruitments. If you can’t find him. Then you’ll have to pick from the rest of the selection. We cannot afford to wait any longer.”
With the final word, Colonel Phillips turns and walks out of the observation room. You make sure to step back and out of his way, ducking your head slightly, so as not to draw attention to yourself. You look back up when you hear Dr. Erskine give a long drawn out sigh. He has removed his glasses and rubs at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
You find yourself moving forward and into the room. “Is everything all right, Doctor?” you question with a gentle voice.
He moves his glasses back into place and meets your gaze. “Not quite.” He admits, his accent a little thicker with stress in his voice. “Unless you have an idea on where we might be able to find someone actually worthy of this project.”
Your lips part as you try to come up with a response to that. “Well… Um. I’m sure the World Expo will bring all sorts of new faces in.” You cringe inwardly a little, thinking that may have been too obvious. Bruce’s words of warning echo in your ears. Get in, get out, don’t change the timeline.
Erskine’s eyes light up at that prospect. “The World Exposition? Of course. That is a wonderful idea. Stark mentioned that there was a recruitment center there. Come, let’s go take a look.”
He begins to head for the doorway and gestures for you to step through first. You hesitate. “You want me to come with you?”
He smiles kindly. “Well, it was your idea, was it not?”
So much for 'get in and get out'. Although, this could be a good thing. After all, Erskine was your ticket to the serum. Another second passes, and then you begin to move out of the observation room. You look down at the machine in the main room, knowing that one day soon, it will be used to create a Super Soldier. Erskine follows you out before taking the lead and moving toward the exit. He pulls off his lab coat and stops at a coat rack off to the side. He swaps the lab coat for a beige trench coat and his fedora.
The MP sitting at the desk right next to the secret entrance hits the button to allow you both to exit. Erskine leads you out of the antique shop and over to one of the vehicles parked nearby. The driver is already sitting in the front seat. Erskine opens the back door and gestures once more for you to enter first. You give him your thanks as you sink into the leather seat, then push over to the other side to make room for him to follow you.
Dr. Erskine gives his instructions to the driver to take you to the Expo.
You relax your posture into the cushioned seat and watch 1943 New York pass by the window.
“So, you are new,” Dr. Erskine states casually, also looking out through the window on his side of the car.
Your shoulders stiffen and your heart stops. “I…” you begin to protest before changing tactics. You laugh nervously and glance over at him. “Is it that obvious?”
He continues to look out his window as he responds. “In all the months we have been working on this project, no one has ever asked me how I am doing.” He turns away from the window then and meets your gaze.
Your own gaze softens with sincerity. “That sounds lonely.”
He tilts his head and lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “This is the bed that I have made. Great things can happen if my serum is used properly, but many terrible things have already come to pass.”
You know that he is talking about Red Skull. “We will find the man you need, Doctor,” you assure him.
He looks at you curiously. “How is it you sound so sure of that?”
You swallow and try not to look like a deer caught in a headlight. “I have faith,” you manage to get out.
He cracks a small smile. “Faith,” he repeats, before he releases a low chuckle. “I’m afraid as a scientist, I may need a little more than that.”
You find yourself smiling back. “Then perhaps I can try to muster enough faith for the both of us.”
“That would be appreciated,” he responds right as the car pulls to a stop. He steps out of the vehicle first before turning and reaching to take your hand to help you to your feet.
“Oh wow…” you marvel as you take in the sights of the Expo before you.
The giant metal sculpture of the globe looms over everything, casting its shadow over the crowds as people hurry passed in excited groups, eager to see the exhibits. A monorail train curls around the globe and zooms past in a rush of metallic sound.
“You have not yet seen the Exposition?” Dr. Erskine asks curiously.
You find it difficult to pull your eyes away from the sights. “I haven’t had the time,” you speak honestly.
“I heard that several of the soldiers were planning to take the other women to Stark’s show this weekend. I’m sure you could join them.” He speaks casually as he begins to head for the recruitment station.
“Those men don’t interest me.” You follow behind, looking around as you do.
Dr. Erskine grins to himself. “Fair enough.”
The two of you continue on your way. Before you can make it inside the building, though, a voice calls out “Dr. Erskine!”
A man in an expensive-looking suit walks up to you both. He has dark hair, a thin mustache, and a dashing smile. A smile with confidence that you recognize.
“Mr. Stark,” the Doctor greets, shaking his hand.
“What brings you all the way out here? I thought you never left your lab, save for heading out to Camp Lehigh. And who is this?” Howard’s eyes trace down the length of your body, an appreciation settling into his features.
You raise a brow, barely able to contain your amusement between this Stark and the one you’ve known. “She’s not interested,” you reply bluntly.
Erskine laughs while Stark’s lips part in momentary shock. With a shake of his head, he shrugs off the rejection and his lips return to a charming grin. “Where are you and Phillips finding these girls? First Agent Carter, now this one?”
“You were commissioned for the head on your shoulders, Mr. Stark. The females working on this project should be of no concern to you.” The somewhat harsh blow of Erskine’s words is softened by the smile of amusement on his face.
Howard doesn’t take it to heart, laughing as well. “I understand. Well, can I at least show you both around?”
“We are actually here to observe the recruitment station. The Colonel has given us a week to find our man. We were hoping the selection here might provide something new.”
“Ah,” Howard remarks. “Well then, I won’t keep you. Feel free to stop by the Modern Marvel’s Pavilion. Perhaps we can all grab lunch.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Erskine neither confirms nor denies the invitation and ushers you into the recruitment center.
“He’s certainly a handful,” you comment, no longer able to hold your amusement.
Erskine releases a long sigh. “Sometimes it is a wonder that he can get anything accomplished. His mind is brilliant, but he can be easily distracted. Though, I am starting to wonder… if not even the great Howard Stark can hold your interest, I am fascinated to find out the man that will.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe you will meet him one day.”
Dr. Erskine speaks with the head physician of the recruitment office, establishing a protocol for directing prospective enlisters his way for additional questioning. He then gives you instructions on the qualities he is looking for, so you can also help to keep an eye out with him.
You spend the day interviewing enlisters. You pretend to be invested, but know that none of them are going to be the correct one. Steve isn’t supposed to show up to this recruitment center until this weekend after Stark’s big show. You had planned to drop into the timeline several days before his recruitment, in case you needed the extra time to get your hands on a sample of serum. Your first day wasn’t quite going as expected, but it could be worse.
Erskine comes to collect you at the end of the day to see how your interviews have been going. When he offers for you to join him for dinner, you readily agree, only then realizing how hungry you are. The two of you walk away from the crowds of the Expo and back into the city.
You find a small family-owned diner to grab a quick bite to eat. Getting seated at a booth near the windows, you watch the people pass by while you wait for your food to come.
“My apologies for taking so long to ask, but I have come to realize that I do not know your name,” Dr. Erskine pulls your attention back to him.
“Oh,” you start. Realizing that you also had never introduced yourself. “Well, my friends call me Vic.”
“Friends?” he repeats with a raised brow.
You realize your mistake a little too late. As the head scientist of the SSR, he was technically considered your superior. It’s been so long since you’ve worked with a superior that wasn’t your friend. Also, with one that you weren’t sleeping with…
You clear your throat and try again. “What I mean is that I haven’t really gone by my given name in a long time. It almost feels foreign whenever I do hear it.”
Erskine looks at you curiously. “And this Vic name was given to you by your friends?”
“Yes,” you confirm, before growing a little shy. “It’s actually short for Lady Victory,” you explain, your face heating in embarrassment. You’ve never actually had to be the one explaining it to anyone.
“Lady Victory?” he repeats, both brows now raised in intrigue. “And how did you manage to earn that name?”
“Well,” you laugh lightly. “It started after a few successful rounds of poker.” That makes Erskine laugh as well. “But, once I started working in the field, the name stuck. I became a lucky charm of sorts. Everyone would say that there was no way we could fail as long as Lady Victory was on our side. And that held true, at least until…” Your voice falls away and your eyes grow hollow. At least until the last mission.
“You have been to the war front?”
You pull yourself out of your dark thoughts and focus back on the doctor. “No. Not this war, at least. But I have seen war. Up close. It’s never easy.”
Erskine nods in agreement. He sits quietly for a moment, considering your words. “Have you considered submitting yourself as a candidate for Project Rebirth?”
You had reached for your glass of water and taken a sip when he asked his question. You choke upon swallowing the drink. So much for not screwing up the timeline. You’re pretty sure this conversation was never supposed to happen. You set your glass back down and attempt to cough the water out from where it’s trying to reach your lungs.
“I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. But I must admit, you do have several of the qualities I am looking for in a candidate.”
After you’ve managed to catch your breath, you try to figure out the best way out of this. “The offer is generous, but that’s not my destiny.”
“What happened to faith?” Dr. Erskine smiles cryptically.
“I have faith that we will find the right person. But I know that isn’t me.” You release a breath of relief when the waitress arrives with the food. “Besides, can you imagine the Colonel’s reaction if you were to tell him you had picked a woman for the project?”
Erskine shrugs his shoulder. “He has been making his threats for months, but he knows that I will not make the serum until we have a candidate that I approve of.”
You can actually hear the record scratch sound effect going off in your mind. “Wait, I thought the Colonel said your formula was ready.”
“The formula, yes. I have all the ingredients ready. But the serum itself must be used within hours of preparation or the components will begin to degrade. It is a side effect from some of the ingredients used, but also works as a failsafe, should anyone think that they could steal it.”
You try to keep your face neutral, but internally your heart is sinking. This means that you coming early was a wasted effort and your only shot at getting a sample of the serum would be the day they turn Steve into a Super Soldier. And not only that but if you did manage to get your hands on a sample, it could degrade before being of any use to Dr. Banner.
In an effort to keep the despair off your face, you steer the conversation away and start to dig into the food that you no longer feel hungry for. Dr. Erskine turns out to be fairly good company and enjoys regaling you with tales of his home in Germany. It helps to keep him talking, so you can mentally plan just how you’re going to make it through these next few weeks, stuck in 1943.
Erskine offers to cover the cost of dinner, which you agree to, but only if he will let you pay for the next meal. He seems caught off guard by your proposal but then agrees with a quiet chuckle. As you prepare to leave, he places his fedora back onto his head and folds his coat over his arm. He then holds the door open as you exit the diner.
You both walk down the sidewalk in the direction toward the expo, occasionally needing to move behind one another to make room for people heading in the other direction. A flash of movement catches your attention from across the street. You narrow your gaze at the two men walking in the same direction as you and Erskine. They are both wearing fairly nondescript outfits in dark, neutral tones. Also wearing fedoras that they use to shadow their eyes. You notice one has a camera in his hands.
You quicken your steps to match up with the doctor, then wrap your arm through his. He looks down at you slightly startled, but you don’t pay him any mind. “Darling, that dress is lovely. Why don’t we take a look inside?” You point toward the display of a boutique and quickly usher him into the shop.
“Miss Vic, we really should be heading back to the recruitment center,” Dr. Erskine begins to protest.
You hush him and pull him deeper into the shop. “We were being followed. I noticed those two men loitering outside the bar across the street when we were at the diner. They stayed the whole time and didn’t begin to move until we did.”
“Are you certain?” he questions, looking back, but you’ve already pulled him too far into the shop.
“I am. One of them pulled out a camera and was trying to take pictures of you.”
“Hello, how can I help you?” the shop attendant takes that moment to make herself known.
You put a sweet smile into your face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you have a back door? It seems we’ve gotten a little turned around and we’re actually supposed to be on the next street over.”
The woman looks at you curiously, “Oh, we do, but it leads to a back alley, not the main street.”
“That’s all right. I’m sure we’ll find our way. Thank you!” Before she can come up with a response, you’re pulling Erskine after you and out the back. You check to make sure the coast is clear, before dragging him out. You run as fast as you can in your heels down the back alley toward the next street. You stop just short of the alley opening and press your back into the brick wall. Peaking around the corner, you find that the men aren’t anywhere to be seen.
You step out with Erskine and quickly hail a taxi. Not conforming to societal rules, you yank open the back door and shove him into the seat. “Don’t head directly for the expo. Drive aimlessly first, check for any tails. If you don’t see any, stop and switch to a new taxi before heading back.”
“What are you going to do?” he questions, still thrown off by what’s happening.
“I’m going to make sure they won’t follow you.”
You quickly shut the door to the cab and bang on the top to send it off. You then duck back into the alley. You’re almost to the back entrance of the boutique when the two men come stumbling out.
“You boys lost?” you question with an innocent tone to your voice. The two take one look at you before looking around for your charge. “I’m afraid it’s just the three of us.”
“We ain’t got no beef with you, Toots,” one of the men states in a heavy Brooklyn accent.
Your innocent façade drops instantly. Darting forward, you grab the man by the lapel of his coat. You use his surprise against him to swing his whole body around and slam his back into the brick wall. Your movement knocks the wind out of him and you quickly pin your forearm to the base of his neck to keep him from being able to regain his breath. “Who you callin’ Toots?” you question with a deadly tone in your voice.
“Geez, lady!” The man chokes out, raising his hands in surrender.
“Back up, if you don’t want to get hurt!”
You look over your shoulder to find the other one has a pistol aimed at you. Rolling your eyes, you release the first one and step back, your own hands now up in surrender. In a flash, you whip your arm out, grasping the gun and kick your foot out, straight into his knee. His leg buckles from beneath him and he loosens his hold on the gun as he falls.
You take the weapon into your own hands, holding it over him, while he kneels at your feet. “I think you’ll find that it’s actually you who should be worried about getting hurt, Toots,” you tell him, sarcasm dripping from your tone.
You catch the movement of the man’s eyes and turn back toward his partner, just a moment too late. The sound of a gun firing echoes down the alley moments before pain explodes in your side.
You cry out, barely managing to keep your grip on your own gun as you stumble into the brick wall.
“You shot her?!” the one kneeling bellows.
“She had a gun to your head!” The other argues.
“Red Skull’s gonna kill us if he finds out we were caught!”
“Not if we finish her off,” the one that shot you once begins to turn.
Your hand shakes as you try to raise your gun back up to defend yourself.
“Hey! Get away from her!” A new voice enters the fray.
The two men look to see someone else running into the alley. They are coming from your back and you fear if you attempt to look at who it is, you might pass out from the pain.
“Let’s get out of here,” the one that shot you tucks his gun away and helps pull the other to their feet. They take off before the newcomer can reach them.
“Miss, are you alright?”
This gunshot wound must be affecting you more than you thought because you could swear their voice sounds like-
Gentle hands grasp your shoulders as you stumble. You lift your head to meet a worried gaze. Soft blue eyes, framed by thick lashes, and two furrowed brows. It’s a look you’re all too familiar with and it always makes your heart clench.
Seeing it this time also makes your head swoon and your stomach flip. “Steve?” you barely manage to get out before your legs collapse.
Part 2
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I made a post on Twitter and learned that Pantheon x Aphelios is a genuine ship like Aphelios x Sett is? Honestly I only ever cared about 200 years when I kicked his face in while ulting bot. I think his story while tragic is very isolating. So I went back to read through the lore of his again to make sure I remembered everything correctly from the first time I read it back when he was released.
Now bare in mind I do not ship bash, if you like the ship more power to you, I won’t discourage anyone from shipping what they like. It’s all fiction. That said I will analyze the two of them and see if I can find some common ground from the lore material we have.
Aphelios and Alune were both children of the Lunari and were heralded to be these great children of destiny for the lunar faith. From a young age they had all this weight thrust upon them to defend the Lunari as fighter and seer. This supposed great destiny, while it turned out to be true is quite brainwashing for young children and incredibly manipulative. It is stated that Aphelios had a very strong and deep connection with his sister which in turn hurt him when she was not there since he likely felt isolated and had severe problems fitting in with others. Its a common phenomenon that certain individuals who have a singular best friend or sibling suffer immensely when that person leaves and they are left to deal with others, much like some of us have most fiends online these days and desperately wait for said friends to get on so they will have company. It even says that without Alune his faith wavered, clearly tying him immensely to her so much that there is a dependency on her closeness that correlates to his effectiveness in combat or even as a functioning human being as it is said that he lost his very purpose. It seems like while Alune firmly believes in the Moon Aphelios believes in her and whatever she stands for, so will he. I don’t want to say Moon Simp here because they are brother and sister but in essence he very much does what she commands, even in game. Its a very unhealthy sort of hyper dependency as without her he just falls apart.
In this desperation he comes across noctum on a spiritual journey and consumes it only to later understand that he is to live as a conduit for Alunes magic. I like this excerpt out of his story because it highlights the duality and the tragedy of their relationship.
Only now did they understand their destiny. Aphelios would hollow himself out with pain, but would become a conduit for the moon’s power. Alune would live alone, isolated in her fortress, but she would guide her brother, able to see through his eyes.
While it is tragic it really takes away from his own character. He has no real will of his own at this point, Alune is faithful to the moon and guides him in any way she sees fit as she is the seer, he is merely the earthly vessel for her actions that are in the best interests of the Lunari.
With Aphelios previously already being quite anti social as he only focuses on Alune this connection should amp it up tenfold. Imagine having the only person you really care about in your head constantly talking to you and telling you what to do so long you are under the painful influence of a harmful substance. It makes him the epitome of a living tool, because he does not speak or feel and because he is hyper fixated on his sister. When you hollow your body out with a poison that numbs you to all sorts of feelings there is really little sense for physical companionship as you have numbed yourself to the point of not being able to speak, with constant pain coursing through you. That is without Aphelios innate antisocial behavior
All and all this paints Aphelios as a silent killer who works alone, gets his missions either from Alune exclusively, or convenes with Lunari elders on what targets need to be eliminated. He very much reminds me of Agent 47, take the job, maximum efficiency, get it done, get the next job. His destiny or purpose is to serve the Lunari and keep them safe and anything that keeps him from achieving his singular purpose is either an obstacle or not worth his time.
Pantheon is a whole new problem in that he hates everyone on the mountain, to varying degrees but still. His one big defining trait is that he stands up to the gods, aspects and darkin. He renounces the power of the aspects and the gods dominion over Targon and will fight nearly anything to follow his belief. He threatens Aurelion Sol, fights Xerath and generally just howls at every aspect ascended, demi god, or darkin there is. When mom told Atreus to pick his battles he simply said “I’ll pick em all” and off he went kicking everyone ass.
Pantheons place in Targon is very uncertain. I said this before when he got reworked that this stance against the gods will put him at odds with everyone on Targon. The Solari and Lunari believe in their respective gods, the Rakkor or Targonians all believe in either of those gods or worship other constellations since in Targon this ascended magic is something to aspire too. People look up to the stars, ask them for guidance, read their fate in the stars, trust them and even pilgrim from every corner of the earth to worship and marvel at the gods. Pantheon would be at odds with every single person and while he won’t slaughter everyone I think the canonical thing for Pantheon to do is just leave mount Targon and fight other gods OR actually challenge and kill Leona, Diana Taric and so on. Which would be a very dark but also very possible path. Kill the aspects to show the masses that their gods do not save them and demand exponentially more than they ever return. For that Pantheon would have to end the Lunari and Solari faith and completely reshape the way people on Targon think about the stars, and as much as I love Pantheon I do not see that as something possible, nor do I see him as the kind of man who would force anyone to agree with him. He carries his rage and resentment but he will not force it upon another, rather confront the person responsible and settle it with them (the gods).
Now Pantheon did fight with the Ra’Horak in his fight against Xerath. Where it was actually the Ra’Horak fighting Xerath before Pantheon arrived. I am guessing that was because the first sun disc was constructed in Nerimazeth and the Solari desired it for some reason, but I am getting off track here. Pantheon helped the Solari warriors, which leads me to believe that perhaps he can exist on Targon in a way. But with the circumstances I think it was more him fighting against Xerath. Since that thing was clearly a godlike entity that he was all but ready to kill. The Solari just happen to be there and he decided to aid the mortals fighting against a god, that does not mean he agrees with their beliefs.
Had Aphelios fought Xerath, would Pantheon have helped? Sure, probably. I think Pantheon would also help Leona and Diana against Aatrox if they needed his help again. It’s all a matter of hierarchy. Who is the greatest threat and who is a lesser one. So I could see them working together against a greater common foe for sure but more I think not.
His quote to Aphelios is at first glance more positive, but considering all the underlying character traits I think it is a little darker than what it at first implies. Pantheon knows that it is human destiny to fight for survival and only those strong and brave enough do not shy away from the pain and anguish that decision costs. Pantheon understands Aphelios motivation, why he fights, that does not mean he supports it.
To Pantheon, Aphelios is a man so zealous and devoted to the moon that he would willingly forsake his humanity, poison himself and suffer for eternity so that he could enact the will of the moon, a god. This is going to really set of Pantheon’s past when the god of war possessed his body, forced him into the back of his own mind only to do what he wanted with Atreus flesh. That is the exact breaking point on why Pantheon and Aphelios will hardly ever see eye to eye. One of them a devoted zealot, willing to surrender it all in service to the moon, the other a warrior who despises the gods and their machinations above all else having once been at the mercy of one of them. With Aphelios added antisocial character I really doubt they would ever exchange much words. Perhaps Pantheon extends an olive branch and tries to get Aphelios to live for himself. But Aphelios would refuse, if no one else could sway him from this singular purpose in life which he has grown up with since his birth, this random warrior won’t be able to sway him either and here the line from Pantheon comes back in as a sort of, “I understand and hail your conviction.” before the fight, where he respects the resolve, but not the reason for it.
That’s why I don’t think they are quite shippable. The only two people I could really see Aphlios with is either Diana or Taric. Diana only if she embraces her role as leader of the Lunari where she comes to appreciate what Aphelios does for her people but is worried about his own mental health, from one antisocial who has grown above it to another. She could perhaps understand and through said knowledge know how to help him open himself up more. That is if she cared enough. Taric on the other hand would feel the damage and pain in Aphelios, and as all life should be beautiful so would he try to mend Aphelios. He clearly has the warmth, care, compassion, and patience to deal with someone as secluded as Aphelios, gently prying him open until he finally lets himself feel again and maybe finally finds someone who can help him open up to other Lunari and Targonians. Isolation is a terrible thing and it leaves horrible scars. I see only Taric in a position where he could mend those scars. Pantheon likely would not care, he is cold and angered himself, no mercy for the strong, as he says. That’s why I think they would clash or would just never get past the cold nodding before combat phase.
This isn’t to bash any people who like the ship, I just thought id give my two cent on Pantheon x Aphelios and why it never occurred to me to ship these two. I get that emo x himbo is a thing, probably also why Aphelios x Sett is so loved, but from a lore and character standpoint I don’t really see it.
This was a post I’ll link to twitter, but if you have input or a different opinion I am always open to discussion and new viewpoints. Go crazy!
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My Top 15 Favorite Gotham Characters
Plus one Honorable Mention.
Honorable Mention: Silver St. Cloud - She's an honorable mention because of how tragically the show wasted her. Silver was a standout character in 2A's “Rise of the Villains” arc, as we see all the layers peeled back from whimsical, kind-hearted, well-mannered young socialite to cruel, manipulative, cold-blooded agent of an evil religious cult to vulnerable, scared and remorseful girl in way over her head who forges a real emotional connection with Bruce. However, despite all the rich potential for her to develop even further as a character, she was never seen again after the 2A finale.
15. Tabitha Galavan - While as a character she's the very definition of a second-stringer, Tabitha is an interesting case study in what happens when a single ember of innocence is still left burning within the darkest of souls. Raised in the evil Order of St. Dumas and kept firmly under her older brother's thumb, Tabitha is certainly no angel, being the sort of person who will fatally stab an innocent old woman in the back and feel no remorse. But the desire to care and be cared for is still very strong in her, and we see it manifest many times: with Silver, and with Selina, and with Barbara, and of course with Butch. Unfortunately for Tabitha, she is also a case study in how this doesn't guarantee that such a person will receive a happy ending, as she is unable to avoid karmic justice.
14. Butch Gilzean - I didn't really care about Butch initially, since he didn't seem like anything more than Fish Mooney's affably evil muscle. After he became brainwashed into obeying the Penguin's every command, he gradually became more interesting and sympathetic, and by the time he got romantically involved with Tabitha I had become so accustomed to him and his perversely likable sort of villainy that I couldn't imagine the show without him. But maybe the show would have been better off without him after his death in the Season 3 finale, as the immediate retcon afterward of his real name being Cyrus Gold and his resurrection as Solomon Grundy in Season 4 was just nonsense, especially when he ends up just as dead in the Season 4 finale as he was in the Season 3 finale, so what was even the point? Sometimes, dead is better, and I’m sure Butch would agree.
13. Harvey Bullock - For much of Season 1 it felt like the writers were trying to play Harvey Bullock too seriously, and I think that was a mistake because the character always benefits from being played more broadly, and lord knows that Donal Logue can do that very well. Thankfully, that's exactly how he started to be played more often from Season 2 and onward, with whatever serious arcs he did receive such as in Season 4 benefiting from him being so much more likable as a result. I'd rather watch him on screen than Jim Gordon any day.
12. Leslie Thompkins - While initially kind of bland, Leslie "Lee" Thompkins is a character that grew on me overtime. I felt really sorry for her throughout Seasons 2 and 3 as Jim Gordon proved to be the worst love interest ever, bringing her no end of pain, and then in Seasons 4 and 5 she used that pain and anger to shape herself into a total badass anti-heroine who was still all about helping those in need but now was open to using less than moral means to accomplish this. She's a character who finished the show stronger than she'd ever been, and her and Barbara becoming bros is everything I never knew I needed.
11. Sofia Falcone - Sometimes, a sharp and devious mind is all it takes for someone to be a great villain, and damn did Sofia ever put hers to good use. In the comics, this was a forgettable character who was just an obvious thug in design and demeanor, but Gotham's version is terrifying in how petite and pretty and kind and charitable and all around attractive in every way she is...the perfect way to manipulate others and conceal that on the inside she's beyond just a thug; she's a raging, ruthless, vindictive, amoral sociopath who only cares about herself. And kudos to Crystal Reed, whose performance sold the character perfectly. The only real downside to Sofia is that the writers clearly were forced to write her out earlier than anticipated, and her abrupt exit from the show is nowhere close to being as satisfying as the build-up to her gaining power within the city would lead you to believe.
10. Ra's Al Ghul - As wonderful as Sofia was, there was never any question as to whom Season 4's most formidable villain was: the same villain who is the series' ultimate Big Bad, Ra's Al Ghul. Beyond the phenomenally perfect casting of Alexander Siddig, who is hands down the most comics-accurate portrayal of the character in live-action to date, Ra's benefits from the series positioning him as the final answer to the long-running "who killed Thomas and Martha Wayne?" mystery and totally being able to convince viewers that most of this series' events were according to his plans due to the self-assured, in-control and borderline omnipotent way the Demon's Head carries himself. No-one in Gotham City is left unchanged by his machinations, least of all his chosen "heir" Bruce Wayne.
9. Hugo Strange - The Big Bad of 2B's "Wrath of the Villains" arc is in the running for the show's most despicable villain. Professor Hugo Strange is a brilliant psychologist and scientist, but he is utterly devoid of a conscience and will do anything to achieve his twisted aspirations, from ruining peoples' lives with his experiments to bringing people back from the dead to personally ordering the death of those he considers to be friends. What makes Strange enjoyable in spite of his depravity is B.D Wong's performance: he looks absolutely perfect as a younger version of Hugo Strange and his voice seems to be channeling Corey Burton's Christopher Lee-inspired take from Batman: Arkham City. He's a much stronger villain than 2A's Theo Galavan, and tellingly got to return in every following season.
8. Edward Nygma - I really wish I could place Ed higher on this list, since the Riddler is one of my favorite Batman villains and Cory Michael Smith is perfect in the role. But sadly, he's the subject of some really weak writing throughout the show that holds him back from breaching my personal Top 5. Whether it be the constant Nice Guy(TM) hounding of Kristen Kringle, the bizarre Two Face-esque split personality angle, the ungodly stupid Isabella plot device and subsequent clashing with the Penguin because of it, his needless romance with Lee that didn't make sense for either of their characters (which wasn't helped by the fact that it happened at a time where he kept on getting made a fool of in a way that undermined how menacing he was just a season ago), and being used as an obvious red herring in the Haven explosion mystery...he really deserved better material, and it's lucky that Smith makes him so enjoyable to watch since it would otherwise drag him down much further.
7. Jerome Valeska - Cameron Monaghan's performance as Jerome single-handedly forced the Gotham producers' hands when it came to their original plans (or lack thereof) for the Joker in their series, as right off the bat he managed to perfectly capture the same maniacal energy that the likes of Mark Hamill and Heath Ledger did, meaning fans would accept no-one else in the role. While Jerome ends up being more of a test run for the actual Joker - the Beta Joker, so to speak - he still is one of the most frightening and malevolent characters in the show's entire run, spreading chaos for chaos' sake and causing pain to others just because he finds it hilarious, and doing it all in the most theatrical way possible.
6. Jeremiah Valeska - Yes, I agree that this character's whole basis - Jerome's secret twin brother who actually becomes the Joker - and how he was introduced is unbelievably stupid writing; in hindsight it would have made more sense to just find a way to transition Jerome into this kind of characterization as part of a continued evolution toward becoming the Joker. But we're stuck with Jeremiah, and as it stands he is a much worthier Joker than Jerome was. I don't really like the Joker whenever he's written to have no motivation beyond "random crime and chaos because LOL crazy!!!" - the best Jokers always have a reason for doing what they do, it's just that it's always a twisted reason that holds no basis in reality and just serves as an excuse for the Joker to spread pain and chaos across Gotham City and match wits with Batman. (Ex: Heath Ledger's Joker may say he has no plans and just "does things" as a manipulation tactic, but in reality he does make plans and does have the tangible objective of proving his nihilistic, anarchistic worldview to everyone; Batman in particular.)
Jeremiah's penchant for intricate planning combined with the psychotic objectives that lie behind his plans is what makes him more believable as the Joker compared to Jerome, and it really felt like the show's stakes rose to an entirely new, darker than ever before level when he stepped up to the plate at the end of Season 4. I also love his development: being in denial about his own insanity and likeness to his brother until his personal obsession with Bruce overpowers that and causes him to willingly give into the madness so that he can be a worthy enough foil for Bruce as Gotham's Dark Knight, since that gives his miserable life a sense of purpose. Add to this Cameron Monaghan still pulling off that Joker energy flawlessly and you have a Joker that can stand beside Nicholson, Ledger and Phoenix's portrayals.
5. Barbara Kean - This one really took me by surprise. I knew going into the show that Barbara was considered a poorly written, irritating obstructive love interest to Gordon in Season 1, but that she got Rescued From the Scrappy Heap in the following seasons. What I didn't know was the way that rescuing happened - she goes crazy and becomes a surprise villain in the Season 1 finale, and from then on out she is freaking nuts in the most hilariously over-the-top way, with Erin Richards chewing the scenery for all it's worth. Barbara is so entertaining throughout the various guises and positions she goes through across the series, not to mention a complete badass who you just can't help but respect for being true to herself even if she's an awful human being. Her redemption arc in Season 5 was a beautiful way to bring her journey full-circle, and I don't begrudge her the happy ending she got at all.
4. Alfred Pennyworth - We're all used to Alfred the butler, but Gotham got me accustomed to Alfred the soldier. Sean Pertwee is thoroughly convincing in the role of the hard-assed, frequently grumpy or moody yet caring, loyal and dependable Alfred, whose relationship with young Bruce Wayne is perfectly depicted. The only time I didn't care for him was during 2A, where he was cruel and unfair toward Selina because she killed his treacherous war-time buddy who almost murdered him and was planning on doing harm to Bruce. Thankfully, from the midseason finale and onward he managed to redeem himself, regaining his status as one of the show's best-depicted characters and maintaining it all the way to the end.
3. Bruce Wayne - This character was always going to live or die based on what child actor was playing him, and by God did David Mazouz nail it in his performance. Even putting the dead parents and destiny as Batman aside, Bruce Wayne is clearly not a "normal" kid, being raised in the lap of luxury and privileged to the point of extreme naïveté, with an overly formal way of speaking hammering in his distance from the rest of Gotham City. Watching him grow stronger and smarter and more worldly and responsible as the series progressed was always a pleasure, and he naturally made a far more compelling protagonist than Jim Gordon did, with the show ending on the shot that it does making it even more clear that this was primarily his story all along; just one elongated origin story for the goddamn Batman.
2. Selina Kyle - For quite a while in Season 1, the teenage girl who would be Catwoman spent a lot of time just slinking around the fringes of the story and accomplishing little of value. But once she finally met Bruce, Selina's character really took off, and she ended up becoming my second all-time favorite character in the show. Aside from the strong writing and character development, much is also owed to Camren Bicondova, who is utterly charming in her depiction of the cynical, sharp-tongued, street-smart thief with a heart of gold, and she is even able to make her rushed final transition into Catwoman in Season 5 believable. And kudos to Lili Simmons who plays her in the final episode, she is perfectly convincing as an adult version of Selina, looking and sounding just as I expect Bicondova to in a few years.
1. Oswald Cobblepot - OK, this is probably an unoriginal choice, but I can't help it - Oswald Cobblepot, aka the Penguin, is the one character on this show who just did no wrong as far as I'm concerned (as a character, I mean, he obviously did a lot wrong morally!) In addition to being the role Robin Lord Taylor was born to play, there is a consistency in the writing of his character and in the quality of his development that I think is unmatched by anyone else in the cast. Aside from that one blip in the Isabella plotline of Season 3 that I credit as more of a blemish on Ed than I do Oswald, he was always a fully three-dimensional character who acted and reacted believably, and he always stayed firmly on the line between being a heinous, ruthless, murderous criminal chiefly seeking power and a tragic, sympathetic, even funny and likable person chiefly seeking love. And he always remained the "noble villain" when compared to the other villains around him; always the one you could count on to join the heroes and do the right thing when it counted because he's a pragmatist with moral lines he will not cross....and because he loves and believe in Gotham City too, in his own way.
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i just read your tags are you anti-snape?
(so i just saw that my tags were cut off halfway through my rant, so if you want me to finish that, just send in an ask and i will write out my whole thoughts)
okay, so anti-snape is a strong word, with a lot of different connotations to it, and while i wouldn’t brand myself as anti-snape because of all of the strong feelings attached, i would say that i don’t think that snape deserves all of the recognition that he deserves.
why?
what i firstly want to say is that snape is emotional abuser. my case in point here is neville, who had parents that were literally tortured to insanity, proving that his worst fear is snape - his teacher. how many times was snape unusually cruel to neville and harry? how many times did he humiliate hermione - an already bullied, muggle-born student (and possible poc)? snape is established to be cruel, and when you look at his actions, it is clear he is emotionally abusive to his students.
why did i start with this? because i relate with neville - i know what it is like to have your worst fear be an abuser that you face every day. so, therefore, i am biased against snape, and a lot of my dislike for him comes from the fact that no matter how you dice it, this man was in a position of power, abusing those students that looked up to him.
he especially hated harry, who was an abused kid himself (and there is some kind of narrative in there, an abused kid growing up to hate and alienate an abused kid. i’m not going to get into that. but just think about that for a second and tell me you don’t want to at least dislike snape.).
and perhaps you want to argue that snape couldn’t know that harry was abused over at privet drive. fair, okay. not everything about a kid can be seen on their face, right? but, one could argue that if snape took the time to look at harry and see him as a kid for a second, he could see hints of it. i have family members who are teachers, and they say that they can never be 100% sure, but they can at least have a good idea of who is abused at home, just based off of the way they interact with other people - especially adults. OR, if you don’t like that idea, you can think of it like this: the teachers at hogwarts are probably close to each other, right? mcgonagall knew (at least to some degree) what the dursleys were like - furthermore, she is close with harry and perceptive. she would have known that harry was abused, and if you don’t think that she wouldn’t have at least mentioned it to snape, i would disagree and say you don’t know mcgonagall. also! dumbledore! there is literally so many opportunities for snape to figure out that harry was abused at home. he just didn’t care.
so, snape is an emotionally abusive man in a position of power, picking on literal children as an outlet for his misplaced anger. this is the set-up for snape, and had he never had an in-depth redemption arc, we would literally all dislike snape.
and i feel like, then, the only reason that we have this snape/anti-snape discourse is dependent on whether or not you think his redemption arc is reason enough to excuse his actions.
and so here we talk about his childhood. which is definitely important and gives good insight, but should not be the only reason as to why he is seen as a good character. childhoods are formative and important, but they are not all encompassing. let’s not forget that snape is a grown man when the story starts. he is 31 years old when we are introduced to his character.
snape had a terrible childhood. he was neglected. he was abused (or so it was implied). he was friendless. he was lonely. he was poorly socialized. he was in a hogwarts house that seemed against him, almost, so he had to work to carve his place out and prove his worth. he wanted to stay at hogwarts all year, if he could.
(sound familiar? harry? neville? you two are here?)
but, school is not always great. at school, there are bullies that are terrible to him - it goes beyond teasing sometimes, snape getting hexed and jinxed and publically humiliated. he has one friend - lily, but sometimes he wonders if she really understands or if she really cares. no one has ever cared for him before, so why should she? he falls in love with her, but she does not reciprocate his feelings. instead, she falls for his tormentor - the person who has made his one safe place terrible, the person who treats him like he’s nothing.
now that is a compelling background. when he falls in with the wrong crowd, we can see why. he is desperate for some kind of belonging, some kind of importance.
(is that... draco?)
he gets more violent as time goes on. those spells he created? levicorpus? sectumsempra? he’s going down a dark path and he wants to cause pain. he becomes a death eater, and while we don’t get a lot of detail what happens here, he rises in the ranks, which means he had to have done terrible things. at this point, he is clearly a bad person. and maybe he feels remorse during this time, but it’s clearly not enough to push his conscience out of where it is. he is still on voldemort's side.
what changes him? the power of love, of course. because even in this terrible time, he still loves lily - right? but is it love? or is it more like obsession? jk would tell us it’s love, but i would disagree.
at the beginning, yes. snape loved lily. but after so much has transpired? things changed. snape is no longer as pure as he once was. he changed. any maybe he didn’t notice it, sure. but wasn’t he different, after everything?
if he loved lily, he would have cared about (even minorly) the things she cared for. yes, he could still hate james with a burning passion, yes he could let that ruin his and lily’s relationship,,, but could he become the very thing she feared and abhorred? could he become a death eater, literally killing people she loved? people just like her? could he have gone to her house, stepped over her dead husband, ignored her crying child to mourn her dead body?
this feels more like obsession. if you love someone, you care about them - their wellbeing, their peace of mind. love means you need to have an awareness for who your loved one loves, and you can accept them for the fact that they love someone else. snape shows he doesn’t. he only cares for her.
here we are, now, at this point is snape's story, and the natural progression in his redemption arc is for him to actively try to amend his terrible actions.
and... he does? kind of?
he becomes a double agent which is perfect. he vows to protect harry, which he does, physically... but he has a clear disregard for protecting harry emotionally, which one could argue is most important in harry’s story.
to defeat voldemort, harry has to come to terms with the idea that love is his strongest weapon against the dark lord, right? so snape being horrible to harry is not only bad because emotional abuse is real, but it’s also part of why harry is so angry and bitter in the sixth book, the exact opposite of what he needs to be if he wants to defeat voldemort.
also, snape preaches “control your emotions” but snape... is emotionally unstable and takes out all of his anger on children half his age? idk. that just bothers me.
so i feel like snape kind of half-asses his way through his redemption arc. he has chosen a different side, yes, but he doesn’t make a lot of intrinsic changes. he’s still angry. he’s still bitter. he’s still emotionally manipulative and abusive.
so really, the question is: is a redemption arc dependent on a change of heart? or is a change of action good enough?
if you haven’t already picked up on how i feel about this issue, i don’t think a change of action is enough.
redemption is the act of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil (thanks, google). it’s absolution for your crimes. i feel like redemption is an intrinsic transformation, and jk preaches that love can do such an act. i’ve already covered that i don’t think snape loved lily, at the point of his big character changing moment. he was obsessed. it was more a change of action, than of heart.
BUT, that doesn’t mean that i don’t think he couldn’t have been redeemed. toward the close of his story, i kind of saw him as going through another arc as a character - i saw him start to care for harry more as harry rather than the child of the woman i’m obsessed with. i think, here, he’s starting to show that love that jk insists he has.
i think that if he had more time, he could have had a more full, more satisfying redemption arc. and that’s the tragedy of his character, right? we could always sort of trust him, but we could never fully trust him until the end. he was never really quite redeemed, it was cut short.
so, basically, i grapple with the fact that jk is adamant that snape is the good guy, he’s the redeemable character, when... he’s kind of only halfway there. AND, this is coupled with the fact that i believe draco was halfway there to a complete redemption arc, and jk is equally as adamant against draco getting a redemption arc.
jk has said that she thinks that the people who want draco to be redeemed are just girls obsessed with the bad boy having a heart of gold (which is fair, to some extent), but... isn’t she the exact same with snape? isn’t she equally obsessed that her readers know snape as being the emotionally scarred, bad boy with a heart of gold? food for thought.
also, where i draw a clear distinction between the crimes of draco and the crimes of snape is that draco is a teenager alongside the teenagers he bullies and emotionally abuses (draco, too, is an abuser! if you want an analysis on him, hmu.) draco is a 15 year old abusing other 15 year olds. this is terrible, and it can’t be excused. i agree. BUT, snape is a 31 year old man abusing 11 year olds. he is also their teacher. there is a clear power imbalance coupled with the fact that snape is an adult, who is supposed to be wiser and smarter.
so... long post, forgive me. i could go off about the crimes of jk rowling's depiction of slytherins forever and never be fully satisfied. i’m sure that in a weeks time i will have more i want to add onto this post. but for now, these are my thoughts on snape’s redemption arc, and my answer to whether or not i am anti-snape.
i am sure that after reading this, there are some of you who will think that i am anti-snape. that’s fine. you can have your own opinion, but if you are going to say that, know why.
no opinion is good if you can’t explain why.
#harry potter discourse#hp#severus snape#anti-snape#j.k. rowling#discourse#olive rambles#and apparently screams at the sky because i have now been writing this for two (2) hours and my mom doesn't want to listen to me anymore#she likes to play devil's advocate in arguments but i will not stop until she understands my valid points
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Moving on (Platonic)
IMAGINE: Your quest with your power goes wrong. And it attracts people who, at first glance, would want to hurt you for it. But, it turns out you couldn’t be further from the truth
REQUESTED BY: @the-radio-star (Sorry, it’s a bit of a long one and kind of drifts a little. But, I hope I’ve done you proud with the premise, :D)
To you, it was just another day. Only difference, was that you did not mean for it to get as out of hand as it had gotten. Instead of the regular damage you caused, this was…. more. Like, a lot more.
Instead of the burning cars, there were a lot of them. Some that you did not even mean to make into their result. You did not mean to. Still, that did not ease the guilt you felt for the actions in any way, shape or form.
Other than that, it was silence. The town you had kind of claimed as your own was a small one. You always liked that, the simple life of the place.
Now, the war on Inhumans had come to your hometown, and like hell were you going to just let the anti-inhuman crowd take over and destroy it.
That was what had led to here and now. You looked around at the chaos you had caused. There was a shop just to your left, now burning. The place held an old man who was kind to you. The man was obsessed with comic books (you did not get it. But it seemed to be the thing that kept him going in his old days. So, you indulged him).
He gave you some, what he called “sage advice” as you “mentor”. That advice being that, “Maybe your calling is elsewhere. Change of scenery wouldn’t hurt you.”
You did not exactly like the words but nodded with him either way to indulge him that you would do it. That you would take that advice.
He was probably in that shop now, burnt to a crisp. That did not exactly help things.
“Ah, Daisy.” Coulson said as Daisy walked into the director’s office. She looked at the screen, seeing camera footage of you in the burning town.
“Jesus, someone had a rough night out?” He rolled his eyes at Daisy’s words, only handing her a pad.
“This is the newest person in the welcome wagon.” She took it, now more interested. It had been a while since that had happened. Since she had been out trying to find another inhuman. If she was honest, she was getting lonely in that regard.
Do not get her wrong, she loved her friends (borderline family. She still was not there yet, a part still scared her on that part. That it would all be taken away the next moment). But, when it came to Inhuman’s, there were not any around that would understand her struggles with that.
Maybe meeting you would change yet. She could always have a new friend.
Looking at what information that had on you, her instinct on that seemed to be proven right (rarely was it wrong).
You, like her, did not know your birth parents. She could, obviously, relate to that. She saw that you had been on your own for a while. So, how the hell did you get your powers? No, she was getting distracted.
She got that pain, that raw pain that (in her mind) drove both of you (les her now. But, still). That pain of being abandoned, of not being someone. So, according to what she could read (and what SHIELD had found out on you), you threw yourself into a would-be vigilante. Looking out for your town.
It seemed like a nice town; despite your pain, you seemed to genuinely care about it. The way you took the fight to the crime in the area, along with the Watchdogs when they started to come to town.
Wow, there was a lot she could sympathise with when it came to your similarities.
Only difference was, she had found a place. You had not. Despite how it would probably look at first, she knew that she would at least try and get you to find yours as well.
Shakily, you went to your makeshift home, a van. Was not much to look at, you always told yourself that it would be a good way to get to your next destination when needed (whether that was too run or if you’d take the old man’s advice. You had always been leaning towards the former than the latter).
You slid open the door, taking a seat. You rubbed your hands as you tried to process everything that had just happened; how it had gone out of hand so quickly.
You pulled out your lighter, flicking it open and shut. You looked back at the wheel that almost begged you to be used. Begging for you to leave before it was too late.
The next moment, it turned out that you had already run out of time.
A slight breeze killed your flame; you flicked it back open, the same effect. Flicked it open, closed. Open, closed. Open –
“Hi.” You jumped at the soft voice, dropping the lighter. There stood a woman. It took a moment, but you then realised who it was. Quake.
Or Agent Johnson.
…. Fuck.
You got up; as soon as you did, a gun cocking was heard. Fuck, she was going to –
“Wait, wait!” She yelled. You, despite your better instinct, did as asked. Turning around, you saw that she had placed herself in between you and the agent you were aiming the gun. She held out her hand to both of you.
She turned to you with a face that held wide eyes, but her tone remained soft as she spoke, “We – I’m,” The correction didn’t help your nerves, “Here to help you. I am not here to hurt you. I’m Daisy, you’re y/n, right?” Her words seemed honest. Part of you still told yourself to run, however.
“Daniel’s, put the gun down.” She ordered the agent that had come with her. The agent looked to Daisy with an untrusting look.
“They aren’t a threat.” She argued, gesturing to you with her other hand, “Look, just let me talk to them. That’s what I came here for.” She said, firmly.
“Agent Johns—”
“No, I’m talking to them. If you want to stop me, call Coulson.” She all but spat at the agent. She then turned to you.
“I get it, ok? I really do. It is scary, people in suits…or used to be in suits. It think our new way is way more concerning if you ask me,” Both her hands were held up to signal that she wasn’t a threat; plus, her attempt at humour did make you lower your defences a small amount.
Daisy must’ve been good at reading people, as the next moment she continued; obviously seeing your slight shift, “I just want to talk about some things with you. That is, it, ok? That is, it, ten or so minutes, I swear.”
You thought about it, she was honest. There was just something about how much she had done in such little time to genuinely help you.
Plus, you could ease some of the ideas SHIELD probably had about you; set the record straight and all that.
Your next words made her smile, “…Ok.”
The first time you used your powers, it was self-defence. Bunch of asshole bullies being just that to you. You were not doing anything (you had your van by then. One you simply stole. The person never wanted to look for it, so you just kept the thing).
It was like, “Give me your school lunch money” but in the real world. It was, “Give me all of your money.”
Like hell were you going to give into that demand.
Despite being a scrawny kind on the street, you were able to fight. Scrappy? Sure, without a doubt. But, able to hold your own all the same.
Now. Being able to hold your own did not mean you kicked their asses. Now, you got like one or two shots in before…. well – before the tables turned.
In short, you got your ass kicked. Like, badly; really, really, really, badly.
In a last-ditch effort to work away from the fight (you were in America after all. You think you had the money to make it through?) you lashed out. Next thing you knew, they were flying backwards and hitting walls (one hit your van, which sucked).
“They made it out alive but spoke about the fight. Cops go to the place they described, and your van is not there. It is across town, instead. You wanna explain that?” Daisy’s tone was not harsh or critical. It was soft, as if she could understand why you took the action you ended up taking.
“Heard about it. Guess they shouldn’t have gone after whoever it was.” Daisy could not help the roll of her eyes that followed your answer. She got the defensiveness (herself holding that to the others at the start. The idea that all of it could implode at the drop of a hat).
Still, the eyeroll happened either way.
“Ok, fair. But, what about this one?” She asked, bringing out new eyewitness reports and photos of the aftermath.
It was when the Watchdogs had started to come to your town. You had seen the news reports of them, seen the damage they could do. But, more importantly, you saw what they wanted, that being to get rid of all Inhumans, by any means necessary.
Your small-town kind of became a sort of save haven. An unspoken place for Inhuman’s to stay. So, after the whole Afterlife situation (you got told about it from one of them) the word got out about your town.
You were not a leader. You never pretended to be either. You just had a rule: do not be an asshole and you would be fine.
And, that came to pass with almost all of them (a few outliers. But, every rule and term had its exception.)
Whenever someone else came to stay as they were passing through, it was just like they were normal (they were, that’s beside the point). They were given what they paid for and had enough resources to see them on their way.
That was when the Watchdogs came. And you and the other’s fought back.
You had lived with your power for a while, now. But you had never been taught how to control it. Most Inhumans that visited had their own issues going on, so they did what they could them moved on.
Now, that idea of Inhuman’s having a place in your town was at risk. So, like any people would do when their way of life is threatened; you all fought back.
“it was the first big thing I’d been in. I know that you guys probably have had actual wars. But…this was the closest I’ve gotten to that.” Daisy nodded, only listening to you. She could tell this moment influenced you.
Granted, she had been in firefights before. Now it was pretty much normal to her. For you, however, it was not. So, she could easily tell the trauma it had caused you.
“I’m sorry.” She offered you some condolences.
You shook your head, “Not your fault.” You said in response as you took a drag from your now lit cigarette.
“Oh my god.” You said as you but one hand to your mouth. The previous hour or so finally hitting you fully.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok, it’s ok.” She assured you, now moving from next to you to in front of you as she placed a comforting hand on your knee.
“I….I killed them.” You all but sobbed out. She had no choice other than to nod at your wrap out of what had happened.
“It’s not your fault.” She comforted.
“Whose is it then?” You snapped. She didn’t take it personally. She just had to remember how she was when she first got her powers.
“The watch dogs. They tried to attack you. You were never given a chance to learn how to control it. Just pushed more and more. I’m just glad we found you when we did.” She said.
She moved herself next to you again, this time only showing you photos and running through other encounters they had picked up from this area. Thus, leading it back to you.
To her credit, Daisy did tell you when other Inhuman moments were done by others.
Then came the one you had dreaded coming up.
She handed you a photo. That photo held you on the camera, just an hour ago.
“That’s what brought me here.” She admitted as she tapped on your figure on the still image, “Some people wanted you to be taken to the RAFT.”
“The what?”
“A prison that goes under the fucking sea.” Your eyes widened. Daisy knew that it wasn’t a good idea to say it so bluntly. But she didn’t want to lie.
“But you aren’t going there. I have made sure. I have friends that can help you.” She said in assurance. You did not expect that, you didn’t expect her to offer you her help. You expected her to want to bring you in. To call you dangerous. Instead, she was instead wanting to help you control it.
Before you opened your mouth, a shot clanged against the side. You both leant back at the sound, Daisy leant forward, but kept you behind her.
“Fuck!” You cursed, climbing through the van to the driver’s seat. Daisy seemed to have a similar plan, climbing through the van but staying in the back.
“What are you doing?!” You yelled back as you tried to get the van to start. But it only stuttered, before dying once again.
“Covering us!” She yelled back, she fired a few shots; before she noticed more Watchdogs vans appearing and blocking your exit.
She looked back at you, she could tell that you knew roughly who she was before. Now it was time to show you what she could do.
You heard it before you looked; looking in the back mirror, you saw the vans being pushed backwards and her hand was held out.
“Go, go, go, go!” She said in one breath. You did as asked, finally as the van came to life. You put it in reverse, and slammed it on the accellorator. That sent you both back, Daisy had to grab a handhold to keep herself from falling over.
You clipped one of the van’s as you past it, before you then tried to straighten it out.
“Drive!” She yelled, looking at the SHIELD agent who had sadly fallen trying to protect you both.
You put it in drive, then stepped on it once again.
Daisy came to sit next to you, talking into her ear, “Coulson, we need some back up here!” Coulson must’ve responded, as she looked at you for a moment, “Yeah, I’ve got them….Ok, got it.” She said as she turned around and fired a few more shots at the new van’s that followed you.
“You’re doing great.” She said as she reloaded her weapon.
“Somehow,” That got her attention, as she looked at you, “Considering the only time I’ve driven this is to yet another alley way.”
Well, fuck.
“Great.” She said, quieter as she turned back and got back to her job of covering you.
She continued to shoot. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t enough; a lucky shot clipped you in the shoulder.
She didn’t even have time to check on you, as you turned the wheel. The next moment, you collided with a post.
It was a blur to you. You were going in and out of consciousness. One moment you would see the van, the next you were leaning against a table, with Daisy next to you and looking over cover and then back to you.
“Oh, thank god.” She said in a rush as she put a light to your eyes to make sure you were there; and not just drifting in and out like before.
She let out another breath, you were there this time.
“How – how’d we get here?” You asked, quietly as you tried to save what energy you had left on fighting to stay awake.
“Couple townsfolk helped me get you in here. Seem like nice people.” She said, she ducked again as what you guessed was another Watch dogs van went past.
“My friends are almost here. Just gotta hold out a bit longer.” She said to you as she looked back over.
“How’d the bleeding stop?” You sounded genuinely confused. Daisy looked at you with a sympathetic look.
“I did, just a bandage that should work for now. My friend back home will do more when we get there.” Home, you had never really had that term applied to yourself before.
Maybe, if you weren’t going to bleed out. That term could apply to you as well.
“Hey, hey, hey. The hell are you doing?” She asked in slight panic as you readjusted yourself and started to stand.
“Look, we can’t stay here. They’ll just tear the whole town looking for me –”
“So, what? You’re just going to give yourself up?” You gave her as much of a deadpanned look as you could as you continued.
“I can’t hold them off and get them out of here alone. I’ll need your help for that.”
Daisy smiled and nodded. You nodded back; maybe that old man was right, maybe your calling really was else were.
Maybe you could finally get that change of scenery that he had always wanted, after all.
“Alright, ready?” She asked you. She handed you a spare gun (you were honest with her in that you had been forced to use on before) and looked out, the Watch Dogs were still patrolling, like you both guessed they would have done. But, you had a point, that you needed to get the attention away from the innocents before they got hurt.
The roads were empty, bar from the vans. So, this time, no one else would get hurt (even if your aim with your power was a little off).
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You replied with. She nodded, opening the door.
“There they are!” A member shouted out, you clipped him on the shoulder (you never said your aim was good) and went behind an empty car as bullets came your way. Daisy was next to you, she fired some of her own.
“Do it.” She nodded encouragingly at you. You peered out, summoning a fire ball and then launching it at the Watch Dogs; Daisy used her power to give it further momentum.
“Thanks!” You yelled as more and more bullets clanged against the car.
“Of course.” She responded as you both fired and moved to another car.
“Oh shit!” She yelled, before she quaked you back. You skidded along the floor as the car you both hid behind had been hit with an RPG.
Your vision blurred once again; hands grabbed you, but then they started to drag you with no mercy.
“We got the freak!” One of them celebrated; you struggled all you could, only to no avail.
“No!” You heard Daisy yell out in fear as she saw you being dragged away. But she was pinned down by more and more gunfire.
You finally shook your head, channeling your power once more, this time internally. The two cried out as they dropped you. You hit one right in a place no one wants to be hit, before punching another in the face.
You ran back, using another fireball to hit the car, this time on target.
“Y/N!” Daisy yelled out, getting your attention. You turned to her, she pointed to a plane (you’d later find out it was called a Quinjet) landing and kicking up dust.
You knew you could stay in your home town. But, now you knew that, with the Watch Dogs after you, it wouldn’t be safe.
So, you ran over to her, as she shot more and covered you as best she could. The ramp lowered, as you both ran aboard.
“May, get us out of here!” She yelled to the other woman who was flying the thing. She did so, wordlessly.
You slumped against your chair, out of breath once again. When you opened your eyes, Daisy was in the one opposite you. She gave you a small smile.
You had made it out.
“So, not all of these were you?” The man, Coulson, asked you as he looked at his file. You shook your head, Daisy placed a hand on your shoulder as she knew you were nervous about saying the wrong thing.
“Not all of them, no. Some were other Inhuman’s. Other’s just arson in general. I mean, they aren’t completely off the hook. So, you know, we didn’t get it all wrong.” Coulson looked up at Daisy with a tired, but slightly amused look. He looked between you both.
He clocked how Daisy seemed to be protective of you already. Seemed your short time already brought you a new friend.
He was glad he had sent her. Even if it hurt him to know that they had lost another agent.
Still, light amongst that dark and all that.
“Ok, we’ll give you a room to stay in. Daisy will introduce you to everyone. You are safe here, even if you do not wanna be on the front line or just be an ally to SHIELD. Your safe.” Coulson assured you.
“C’mon, y/n. Let’s get you settled in.” Daisy said as she gave you once last shoulder tap.
You had been welcomed to your new room, two people gave you a wave and smile from their lab. Daisy had helped you set it up (not that you had much) and then left you for a little bit.
You laid on your bed, for once feeling slightly at peace. The fact that you wouldn’t have to go to sleep terrified of the idea of something being stolen, or of being pulled out your van by robbers (that happened more than you wanted to admit).
For once, you were actually safe.
Maybe that old man wasn’t so crazy after all.
#the-radio-star#agents of shield imagine#agents of shield x reader#daisy johnson imagine#daisy johnson x reader#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine
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The Welsh Red Dragon, Kurt Vonnegut, and Social Activism
The inspiration behind Shepard’s pins
(original post with full artwork here.)
So, I spent A LOT of time thinking about the kind of pins our good friend Shepard (from Omaha, NE) would have on his denim jacket. Like a lot. Like an obsessive amount of time. I made a list, which seemed appropriate for this fandom. And because I’m a nerd and this sort of thing really interests me, and I’m proud of what I came up with, and because I think some of these items open up the possibility for some good, good literary analysis, I decided to make a whole post dedicated to Shepard’s pins. You’re welcome.
First, a little bit about my thought process. How did I decide what kind of pins to give Shepard? Well, he’s a guy full of stories. Stories that he can’t wait to tell anyone and everyone. And stories that others (mostly Maybes) have told him, once he’s earned their confidence. So, I wanted his pins to tell a story, his story in particular. What is the story that Shepard wants to tell about himself? More precisely, what is the story he wants to tell his new magickal friends on a disastrous summer holiday? The story is that of his own magickal credibility. His journey to magic (his come to Crowley moment, perhaps?) (I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry…) and his trustworthiness as evidenced by all of the Maybes he’s met along the way. He’s gotten drunk off dandelion wine with a creek dryad, given a toothbrush to a Sasquatch. spilled the tea with a jackalope, midwifed a centaur foal. Shep’s journey is just as impressive as Simon’s, and while Simon has been collecting notches on his dead dark creature bedpost (that’s a weird fucking metaphor…) (and now I’m thinking about dark creatures and Simon’s bedposts…so, you’re welcome, Basilton), Shep’s been collecting notches of the friendly variety. (Shoutout to @adamarks who did some super lovely analysis on Simon and Shep as mirrors here: https://adamarks.tumblr.com/post/188046272067/ok-so-when-shepard-said-he-was-cursed-the-first). So, I decided that I wanted to use Shep’s pins as a way to show the notches on his bedpost, so to speak. (Okay, I’m really losing this metaphor, but I think you’re still with me.)
Let’s dive in!
(I’m working my way down one side of his jacket at a time, for those following along at home.)
RIGHT SIDE
Welsh Dragon:
I made this one very large, and easy to spot on his right shoulder. Of all of his accoutrements, this one felt like the most important. Mainly, because of Simon. Simon is, after all, half-Welsh. (The Mage, may he rest in pain, came to Watford from Wales.) And, of course, Simon, just like the Welsh Dragon, is a red dragon. (Or in the process of becoming one? Or a half-dragon? Or a dragon kitten?…) And the dragon that Simon and Baz fought on the Watford lawn, when they first worked together, and first shared magic, was a red dragon. Of course, the actual dragon in question here is Margaret. Shepard would absolutely have a pin to commemorate his friendship with her. And since I was going to give him a pin with a dragon, I knew I was going to have to use the Welsh Dragon because it would perfectly capture his burgeoning friendship with Simon, as well. Now, I want to go on a slight detour here (this blog post will be its own Odyssey) and talk more about the Welsh Red Dragon. I took the design for the pin from the Welsh flag, which is the thing that first made me think more about Simon’s Welsh connection. I’m not really making a point here, I just think it’s fascinating! There’s a lot of Welsh lore about the Red Dragon (and Margaret herself calls Simon “Great Red” - that ‘R’ is capitalized, by the way, so this seems to be a proper name for the kind of dragon that she thinks Simon is). Full disclosure, I am not Welsh and I am not a scholar on any of this by any means. That being said, a cursory, and super academic, perusal of the Wikipedia article on the Welsh Dragon led me to a few different history websites that linked the symbol of the red dragon with Merlin and King Arthur (son of Uther Pendragon, literally dragon head). Merlin, one of the most well-known magical figures and Arthur, one of the most well-known Chosen One figures in literary tradition. I know very little about Arthurian legend, and Welsh history, and dragon lore, though, so I’m going to just say, do a little research on your own when you’re bored and feeling nerdy!
Resist!:
Shep is a young black man (and reasonable human being) living in the U.S. during the [redacted] Administration. I should hope this one is self-explanatory.
Hoover Dam:
At some point in his visits to see Blue, I’m sure Shepard stopped off at the gift shop and bought himself a souvenir pin to mark the incredible experience he had making friends with an actual river. (This pin design is based on an actual souvenir pin of the Hoover Dam I found on Google Images—along with most of the other pin designs. I think it’s vintage, which just felt even more like Shepard to me, because he’s the kind of guy who would appreciate stuff that’s got a past.)
Deathly Hallows:
I mean, IF the Harry Potter books/movies exist in the Simon Snow universe (which hasn’t been confirmed, as far as I know, by our Queen) I’m sure Shepard would have been totally into it as a kid, and probably would have found greater significance in its magical lore once he discovered that ACTUAL MAGIC EXISTS! So, he would have a pin to show his belief in the magickal world, and maybe also as a nostalgic reminder of when magic was still just something fictional he could turn to for escapism (and not something that would result in being cursed by a demon…).
The Truth is Out There:
So, I know virtually nothing about The X-Files (my sister was obsessed with it to the point that she wanted to become a FBI agent for a few years, but I never watched it), but I’m sure Shepard is a fan. If nothing else, the sentiment is awfully apropos.
So It Goes:
This one is very hard to see. It sort of looks like a black teardrop with a bar on top of it (it’s supposed to look like a bomb). The pin I based this off of reads “So It Goes”, which from my very superficial research, is a line repeated in Vonnegut’s anti-war novel Slaughterhouse-Five every time someone dies. I don’t know anything more about it, other than that it is a Kurt Vonnegut-inspired pin available for purchase on Etsy, and Shep mentions that he wanted to get a Vonnegut quote tattoo, even though “everybody has those.”
Green Alien Head:
You will never be able to convince me that Shepard does not 10,000% believe in the existence of aliens. If he were still in the U.S. during the Area 51 Raid, I’m sure he would have stopped by, just, you know, for science…(I’m thinking he was probably still in the UK, but I guess we’ll see in AWTWB.)
Centaur:
This one is also hard to see, but I took the design from a pin I found of one of the centaurs (the blue-haired, blue-bodied one, if that rings a bell for you) from Disney’s Fantasia. (Fun fact: I was super into Fantasia as a littlun, and I attribute my lifelong love for classical music in large part to the centaur sequence and my latent lesbianism—I mean, it was ludicrously erotic. Watch it sometime and tell me it would not make an impression on a sapphic three-year-old.) Midwifing a centaur foal was probably a very emotional and formative experience for Shepard. Buying this pin would be his way of remembering that experience, and the excitement and gratitude he likely felt to have been entrusted with that kind of acceptance from the centaur(s).
Jackalope:
It doesn’t help that this pin is almost the same color as Shepard’s jacket, but it’s based off a design of a jackalope’s head that, again, I found on Google Image search (honestly, I don’t know how I ever made art without it). We know that Shepard once got some gossip from a jackalope, who vented to him about magicians calling “themselves ‘magicians’”, like “they’re the only ones with magic”. (This is totally irrelevant, but I always think of Americans when I read this. I am an American, by the way. America is a continent, but those of us living in the U.S. calls ourselves Americans, like everyone else living in America doesn’t matter.) Anyway, the jackalope offered Shepard some valuable insight into the political workings of the magickal world, so it gets its own pin.
LEFT SIDE
Pansexual Pride Flag Pin:
I mean, technically, canonically, we don’t know what Shepard’s sexuality (or asexuality) is, but I just get some vibes from him. Plus, if we take him as a mirror for Simon (who is somewhere on the bi-plus spectrum), it’s not a far cry to imagine he also identifies somewhere on that spectrum.
Pentagram:
This is another symbol that I chose based on my interpretation of Shepard’s character, and not so much on a Maybe or a story that he mentioned. The pentagram, or pentacle, is typically associated with the occult and witchcraft, which is something that could potentially also be said of Shep.
Sasquatch:
You don’t go backpacking—or not backpacking—and introduce a Sasquatch to the benefits of dental hygiene without getting yourself a souvenir of the hike.
I [heart] Mystery Spot:
The Mystery Spot is a weird sort of phenomenon in California (my home state). It’s a place outside the beach town of Santa Cruz that boasts of a “gravitational anomaly” on its website. I went once, years ago, and while you’re there, it can feel pretty convincing. (Also, I was probably like 10, so…) People outside of California will likely never have heard of this place, but driving around here (at least in the Bay Area, where I am, which isn’t that far from Santa Cruz) you’ll see yellow Mystery Spot bumper stickers on cars everywhere. I’m not really sure what the thing is with the bumper stickers. Like, I’m sure not that many people actually think it’s legit, and maybe it’s like one of those things that Californians just do (like freak out and forget how to drive when we feel water falling from the sky). But yeah, these bumper stickers are everywhere. Anyway, Shepard drives around a lot. He knows about the Vampires of Las Vegas (how is that not an indie rock band?) and the Katherine Hotel, and the Next Blood. So, he’s probably made it past Nevada and into California before. And while he was there, it’s not a great stretch of the imagination that someone who chases after magic wouldn’t wind up at a place called the Mystery Spot and get himself a pin while he was there. (And maybe even a bumper sticker.)
Black Power Fist:
Unfortunately, this one is also hard to see, because the fist is black and I didn’t have anything to go over the outlines of the fingers with, which I sort of didn’t think about when I colored it. This one also feels self-explanatory. Shepard is black. Blackness has long been treated in itself as a crime by non-black members of law enforcement, and just the general racist population of the U.S. Young black men are especially vulnerable to racially motivated violence. I’m sure Shep, who drives all over the country by himself and gets into high speed chases at night in the middle of nowhere Nebraska while hunting super shifty rando Maybes has had a run-in or two. Stay safe, Shep!
Every Pronoun Belongs Here [Trans Pride Flag background]:
Also, super hard to see because the letters are too small to read. I found this exact pin in a basket by the register at my local bookshop. (Support local bookshops, people!) They were being sold as a fundraiser for a LGBTQ club at one of the high schools, and I loved the idea that I could help them raise money and add this pin to my own growing collection to show off my support for trans rights. (Support trans rights and trans people, people!) I decided to give Shepard this same pin, because I could imagine him having an almost identical book buying experience in a dozen other towns that he’s probably visited. And I love the simplicity of the message, because it’s one of belonging, which EVERYONE is desperately seeking, no matter who they are or how they identify, and Shepard, and every character in this picture, is no exception. (Plus, it seemed like a cool way to connect my pin collection with Shep’s. Maybe I should have mentioned the fact that I’m also a pin person at the beginning? I walk to work and on my lunch breaks, so I carry all of my stuff in a backpack. And I proudly display my random pin collection on my backpack. Including several Simon Snow-related pins.)
Don’t Panic:
This was based off a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy pin. I don’t really know anything about the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (including if it’s okay to abbreviate it as HGG? THGTTG? whatever), even though I did watch the movie years back when it was on TV and I still lived with my parents who had a TV. But the sentiment felt appropriate, and Shepard is a sort of magickal hitchhiker. Apart from managing to hold down a job at Dick Blick, he appears to lead a somewhat nomadic lifestyle. He tells Penny, “the road is my teacher”, and if that’s not a hitchhiker slogan, I don’t know what is. (Ass, gas, or grass?)
Black Lives Matter:
They do. Just sayin’.
Magic Troll Doll:
When I was growing up, the Troll doll was all the (nightmare-inducing) rage. Trolls are one of those magickal creatures that are continually mentioned in the series. Shepard talks about lonely trolls under bridges. Simon talks about killing trolls. Agatha would rather kiss a troll. And Baz was kidnapped by numpties, who are sort of like trolls. I couldn’t not include a troll. And the Troll doll specifically felt perfect, because the full name was Magic Troll Doll. You can bet if Shepard had to pick a troll-related pin, it would be a magic(k)al one.
[Asshole]:
This is another Kurt Vonnegut pin. It looks like a messily drawn asterisk (*), but it’s actually meant to be an asshole (taken from the preface of Vonnegut’s novel Breakfast of Champions, and drawn by Vonnegut himself). I just thought, why the fuck not? So, here. Have an asshole pin. (I should have put it on a buttonhole…)
HONOURABLE MENTION
Shepard’s Phone Case:
Remember that line I quoted earlier, about Shep wanting to get a Vonnegut quote tattoo? Well, when I was trying to figure out what to put on his phone case, I thought that seemed like a reasonable place to start. So, I googled Vonnegut quotes, to see if I could find one that I thought Shepard would like. Here’s the quote: “a purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.” I just loved that for Shepard.
#shepard#from omaha#hi im shepard#im from omaha nebraska#my art#headcanons#carry on fanart#simon snow series#carry on#wayward son#any way the wind blows#rainbow rowell#simon snow#tyrannus basilton grimm pitch#agatha wellbelove#baz pitch#penny bunce#are not in this but i'm tagging them anyway#random british spellings for no reason#penelope bunce
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INSIDE THE QUINJET, ON THEIR WAY TO THE HELICARRIER
to her and steve, the last time they were in the air like this was just before they’d crashed into the ocean. thankfully, for her, there were enough differences that she could easily separate the experiences from one another, allowing her to focus on the present instead of the past. or at least, the more recent past, she presumed, watching a datapad show video footage of the hulk.
❛ so, this doctor banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me? ❜
❛ a lot of people were. you were the worlds first superhero. banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking erskine’s original formula. ❜
jenny winced, as the hulk tore a jeep apart on screen. for a moment she had to wonder how painful the transition was, from man to ― angry and green. ❛ unfortunately it seems he didn't quite get the results he was looking for. ❜
❛ not so much. when he's not that thing though, guy's like a stephen hawking. ❜ she and steve shared a look of confusion, and she was about to speak up when coulson realized they had no idea who he was talking about. ❛ he's like a smart person. i gotta say, it's an honor to meet you, officially. i sort of met you, i mean, i watched you while you were sleeping. ❜
a small chuckle escapes her, even as steve stands up and moves to the side of the aircraft. she'd never had any . . . envy of the captain for his fame after he went in the ice. even learning most didn't remember her, except for those she had worked with closely. and while she hadn't visited the exhibit for the howling commandos yet, she had been informed that she had been included in it.
❛ i mean, i was . . . i was present while you were unconscious from the ice. you know, it's really, it's just a huge honor to have you on board. ❜
❛ well, i hope we're the one for the job. ❜
❛ oh, you are. absolutely. uh . . . we've made some modifications to the uniform. i had a little design input. ❜
❛ oh so we're going old school? back to the stars and stripes? please tell me it's just for him, i know i wore the chorus girl outfit on one mission, but i'd much rather something a bit more protective this time. ❜
❛ aren't the stars and stripes a little . . . old fashioned? ❜
❛ with everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned. ❜
steve seemed to think on this, and jenny shrugged. ❛ makes them feel secure. gives them something that hasn't changed that they can trust and rely on when everything goes to shit around them. ❜ she can feel steve and coulson looking at her, and so she looks up from the screen she had still been watching. ❛ it's basic psychology. ❜
the quinjet lands down a massive battleship known as the helicarrier. it has two runways. one with direct access to a hanger at the rear, which is aligned along the spine of the vessel. agent coulson, steve, and jenny walk down the ramp, meeting up with natasha.
❛ agent romanoff. captain rogers, and ms. smith. ❜
❛ oh, please no. just call me jenny. ❜
❛ ma'am? ❜
❛ hi. ❜ she looks over at coulson. ❛ they need you on the bridge. they're starting the face trace. ❜
❛ see you there. ❜ coulson walks away, and the trio walk towards the railing of the helicarrier.
❛ it was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. finding the two of you, even. i thought coulson was gonna swoon. did he ask you to sign his captain america trading cards yet? ❜
❛ trading cards? ❜
❛ huh, he has trading cards now. neat. ❜
❛ they're vintage. he's very proud. ❜
she nods, glancing around the craft only to see dr bruce banner walking around, trying to stay out of the way. steve walks up to him and they shake hands, jenny not far behind.
❛ dr. banner. ❜
❛ oh, yeah. hi. they told me you'd both be coming. ❜ banner replies, and jenny has to force herself to wait just a little bit before interrupting.
❛ word is you can find the cube. ❜
❛ is that the only word on me? ❜
❛ only word i care about. ❜
❛ well it's not the only word i care about. you have, what is it, seven phds? i read all of your thesis papers last night, your work in gamma radiation and anti electron collisions is . . . for this time period, it's genius. ❜
❛ for this time ― wait, you read them all last night? ❜
❛ i'm sort of what you'd call a fast reader. ❜
❛ it must be strange for you. all of this. ❜
steve looks of to where a group of men in training are running. ❛ well, this is actually kind of familiar. ❜
❛ i've seen stranger. ❜
natasha interrupts their conversation, gesturing to the ship around them. ❛ we might want to step inside in a minute. it's gonna get a little hard to breath. ❜
❛ is this a submarine? '
❛ really? they want me in a submerged, pressurized metal container? ❜
❛ submarine doesn't make sense though, not with them just strapping down the quinjets . . . ❜ she trails off, as they all move closer to the edge of the ship. that is when the engines lift into place, and jenny quietly grins at the sight. ❛ this is bloody brilliant. ❜
❛ oh, no. this is so much worse. ❜
they quickly follow natasha into the ship ( although jenny is rather tempted for a moment to stay outside, just to see how it feels. ), and she raises an eyebrow at the bridge. nice. after a moment however, she can see steve pulling his wallet out, and the time lady walks behind him, plucking the ten dollar bill that he was about to hand fury out of his hands. ❛ he owes this to me. i'm not surprised. interested yes, maybe even a little impressed, but it's going to take a lot more to surprise me. ❜
and with that she moves to lean against a wall, out of peoples way but able to observe them as they work. dr banner is escorted to his lab, and for now all there is to do is wait.
#just like before indented stuff isn't jenny#i should have done this and the next one before the last one i wrote but i got excited s o#eventually i'll just make a list of these in order#percy retcons jenny into marvel.#long post for ts#do not reblog.#wιтн greaт power coмeѕ... a тon oғ weιrd crap yoυ are noт prepared тo deal wιтн. 〈 avengers verse 〉#ѕoмeтιмeѕ we don'т geт ѕecond cнanceѕ. ѕoмeтιмeѕ тнιngѕ jυѕт end. 〈 drabble 〉
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For Russia With Love: The Tara Reade Story?
There are three women I know of now whose name is pronounced Tar-uh Reed. Tara Reid is an actress who starred in the Sharknado franchise. Tara Reed is an artist and designer. She designed my favorite coffee mug. And now I've learned that there is a Tara Reade, who used to work for Joe Biden.
When I heard about the allegation that Tara Reade made against Joe Biden, I was deeply disturbed. Were Biden's hands on shoulders, close-ear talking, hair petting, and hugs something more than just an overly-affectionate guy with boundary issues and a lack of understanding of personal space? It had always looked uncomfortable, but innocent, to me. And, if it's innocent, I find it strangely endearing, despite the fact that I don't personally like to be touched by strangers.
He's not just overly familiar with females. For every picture of Joe Biden petting a little girl's hair, there's another of him with his arms around a man, gazing into his eyes, or practically kissing his ear. I could do a Google image search and come up with some pretty compelling visual evidence that Joe Biden is in love with several men. He's not. At least, I don't believe so. Some people are huggers. And Joe Biden is a hugger extraordinaire.
I think the world no longer tolerates that, but I also think it is both innocent and changeable behavior. Unlike Trump, Biden does have some sense of self-awareness, can listen to criticism, and make changes.
I'll be honest: I really don't want the allegations to be true. I do have that bias, and I will freely admit it. I always have that bias. No matter who it is. Like any regular person, I don't want sexual assault to happen. I would hope we all have that bias. I hope that none of us would wish a woman had been sexually assaulted so we could have some ammunition against a political opponent. But I know better. There are plenty of people who really hope Biden did exactly what Reade says he did. And we all know it does happen, of course.
Tara Reade's story, when I first heard it, sounded credible. In a public, yet deserted hallway, Biden pinned her to a wall, groped her, kissed on her, and asked if she wanted to go somewhere else. When she reacted negatively, he said, "Come on, Man, I heard you liked me." Shit. That sounds like Joe Biden, I can hear him saying that. So, it sounds bad. I agree that we should listen to women. We should take them seriously. We should look into their allegations and dig until we find the truth. I let other people do the investigative journalism. I found their articles, checked their sources and compiled a pretty decent collection of truths that form a pretty cohesive picture.
Here's the truth that I have found:
In 2009, Reade wrote an article commending Biden's work on the Violence Against Women act. The same year, she wrote another article claiming that she'd left DC because her husband had received a job offer to manage a Congressman's campaign in the Midwest, and she'd moved with him.
From late 2016 to early 2017, she had a Twitter account using her newly married name, Tara McCabe. She used this platform to praise Biden on multiple occasions. She retweeted him saying, "My old boss speaks truth. Listen." This Twitter account also featured a lot of anti-Russia, anti-Putin sentiment.
Then, in 2018, she writes in an Op Ed for Medium which praises Russia and Putin, that she left Washington because she "saw the reckless imperialism of America and the pain it caused through out the world," and because she loved Russia with all her heart. In this article she describes Putin as a "compassionate, caring, visionary leader."
She wrote several pro-Russia, pro-Putin articles during this time, gushing over him, saying, "President Putin has an alluring combination of strength with gentleness. His sensuous image projects his love for life, the embodiment of grace while facing adversity. It is evident that he loves his country, his people and his job … President Putin’s obvious reverence for women, children and animals, and his ability with sports is intoxicating to American women … And like most women across the world, I like President Putin… a lot, his shirt on or shirt off.”
Then in 2019, she's all in for Bernie Sanders. She wrote another article, with yet a different reason for leaving, this one with the harassment allegation attached. "Then, I went to Senate personnel for help. No one helped me. I resigned or I would say, I was forced to resign." The report she says she filed doesn't seem to exist.
When she started attacking Biden publicly, she also resumed denouncing Putin. Putin was bad again. When the media dug up her old articles praising Putin, she deleted them. Too late, of course. They can no longer be found where they were originally published, but copies were made. She now claims they were part of a novel she was writing that was set in Russia. They were clearly op-eds, not notes for a novel. No novelist I know of publishes their novel notes as op-eds while they're working on the book.
There are a whole lot of other inconsistencies, people she says she told about the incident denying any knowledge, her brother pointedly changing his story, an old neighbor of hers coming forward to say she wouldn't trust a word Reade says, and countless other glowing red flags. But this blog is already so very long, and I haven't even gotten to the meat of what I want to talk about yet. This has all just been background, the evidence I followed to form my theory of what is going on with this. And I want to get it down before I read it somewhere else.
I've got a theory! It could be Russia!
Okay, hear me out. Here's what I think might have happened:
Sometime in late 2017 or early 2018, Reade somehow becomes involved in communications with Russia, a political operative, maybe even someone in the government. Hell, perhaps even Putin himself, a highly unlikely prospect, of course. But not outside the realm of possibility. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that Putin maintains a stash of burner phones and carries on flirtatiously with American Women in his spare time. It's the stuff of spy novels, sure. Yeah, it's far-fetched, but allow me my fantastic imaginings. I am a fiction writer, after all.
But a Russian political operative of some kind becomes romantically involved long-distance with Reade. Of course it's not a real relationship, not on the Russian side. They are just using American citizens as sleeper agents they can prompt to stir up shit when it would cause the most damage.
Reade is manipulated to turn against Joe Biden and encouraged to back Bernie Sanders. Now, an aside at this point. I like Bernie. I would vote for Bernie, I'd love to see him as President. I don't believe that Bernie Sanders or his campaign are involved in any collusion with the Russian government in any way, and both he and his campaign openly discourage Russian meddling. None-the-less, there still exists evidence that Russia has interfered in ways favorable to Sanders and his campaign. Russia doesn't want Bernie Sanders as President, but some of Sanders more rabid supporters are very easily influenced by carefully placed fake news stories and are extremely useful at stirring up political infighting on the left. Alright, back to my theory.
At this time, she's also advised to stop praising Russia, so as not to raise any suspicion. And, finally, to drop that allegation bomb on Joe Biden right when it would do the most damage. Hopefully to allow Bernie Sanders to overtake Biden for the nomination, but, failing that, at least send Joe limping into the General.
Yes. In a nutshell, I think the Tara Reade allegation is simply more Russian meddling of the same sort that has been going on all along. I think, in some form or another, she is a Russian agent. Maybe there is no spy novel romance going on. Perhaps she's just being paid. But this whole thing stinks of Russia, and Russia's fingerprints are all over it.
But, hey, what do I know? I'm just a fiction author with a good imagination
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Flowers in Blood
A/N: BRUH I’M A MACHINE. I CAN’T STOP WRITING AND I’M JUST AS EXCITED AHHHHHH. Yeah, I’ve got a nice creative flow going right now
Summary: Pine has to live with the choice he made, what else could possibly go wrong!?
Warnings: Mention of drug usage
ALSO!! There is a transgender woman in here that is a bad guy, but please please please please do not read this as that as “I hate trans people”. I don’t hate trans people!!! I myself am non binary and just decided to add this type of character in because trans people don’t often get represented as frankly anything in any sort of way. So if you read it as a negative opinion, please understand that it is most definitely not!! Also, Pine is respectful of ALL women because trans women are women! <3
Taglist: @lucywrites02
Chapter 6: Poppy p.ii
The familiar and welcoming ambience of London filled Pine's senses as he stepped off the train. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that once he gave Angela the thumb drive, he would be back to smaller tasks. A sob took him out of his slightly dazed state as he saw Katie dashing out of his sight, an arm covering her face as she was undoubtedly crying. It was more than too late to apologize at this point and even if he did, Pine's apology wouldn't make a lick of sense. The first thing he would do after dropping the information off was to get wasted. Tonight seemed like a good enough time to choose alcohol as a means to drown out sorrows. Honestly, Jonathan was surprised at how he wasn't an alcoholic at this point. He reached into his pocket and pulled his pack of cigarettes out along with his lighter. Perhaps the nicotine helped to ease some of the pain.
Having gone through his third stick, Jonathan flicked the butt into the trash and exhaled the remnants of smoke as he made his way to Angela's office. It was awfully quiet going in and something occurred to Pine making him wonder if perhaps Katie already reported in. No, if that were the case then he would have gotten a text of sorts. He already knew his ass would be chewed for not calling back or giving a text to signal they made it safely to London. Pine crossed his fingers that would be the only issue he would be given grief over and not how he treated Katie.
Angela's lips pursed as she saw her best agent walk in, looking dejected. "What in the absolute FUCK happened?"
Pine held up his hand, grimacing "I can explain everything-"
The Director did not give him time to explain as she turned the TV on. A live news report was playing in an area nearby filled with fires and anti-government flags waving in the air. Of course some of the flags had the Poppy flower emblazoned onto the fabric proudly. Angela turned the TV off and turned to face Pine. "So am I to suspect that something went wrong? Because this should not be happening and I should have received news of Abbadon's arrest prior to the riots! Instead, I don’t hear a peep and the woman still walks free!" She shook her head, looking disappointed in Jonathan.
The agent took a deep breath in and sighed, placing the drive and note on his boss's desk. "It isn't Abbadon who is in charge. She shoved these in my pocket when we attended the gala. She is a single branch of something much bigger and told me to remember these names." He held up his hand, using his fingers to count them down. "Belladonna, Bloodroot, Daphne and Wisteria. We are already aware of Poppy and Wolfsbane. I am hoping what may possibly be on that thumb drive is all the information on the branches that we need to take them down." He placed his hand in his pants pocket and looked at the ground. Some part of him wished that Katie was here to tell of how clever she was at befriending Abbadon. Not only that but how she listened to her heart and managed to convince Pine that Abbadon was not who she said she was. That was her place to tell, not his.
"Where is Katie?" Angela set the paper and drive down. Her brow became laced with motherly concern and eyes shimmered at Jonathan. "Pine. Where is she?" Her tone turned angry. She knew something was off the minute Jonathan walked in without his assigned partner and she didn't like it one bit.
Pine shifted uncomfortably, "She's going back to the US. If she's smart enough, I think she's packing her bags right now."
SLAM!!
The impact of Angela's fists on her desk caused everyone in the room to jump. "Damn it, Pine!! What the fuck happened and what did you do!? I do not want any short, bullshit answers so you had better sit your ass down and start talking!! I'm gonna try to give her a call." She huffed at the tall man, fishing her phone from her purse. Her gaze snapped back at Jonathan who just stood there, struggling to find an excuse of sorts. "Well?! Go on then! Maybe I was right, you men are garbage." She noticed Rob look at her in shock and sighed loudly, "Ok you're not garbage, sweetheart. I'm talking about ones who won't fucking give me an answer on what the hell happened to Katelyn O'Connor!!"
"ALRIGHT!! I GET IT!!" Jonathan shouted from pent up guilt. "I-I… I told her to leave because I am afraid to lose her. Having a constant physical reminder of Cameron O'Connor and what happened to him at my damn side can do a real number. The last fucking thing I wanted was to start feeling something for her, come to terms with the past, earn her trust and forgiveness, only to have her killed!!" His tears that had built up betrayed him by slipping down his sharp cheeks. Pine leaned against a wall and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Angela, I can't lose her like I did Sophie. I had to lie through my teeth and call her a stupid rookie that lived in fantasy land! I had to make her think I hate her!" He walked over and placed his hands on Angela's desk. Tears dripped onto some of the paper work as they fell from his cheeks. "She is so smart though. She managed to prove me wrong about Abbadon and reveal who the real person in charge is. It's Abbadon's brother, Daniel. Without Katie, I don't know how I would have seen the truth otherwise." He finally grabbed a chair and sat down, crying softly into his hand. “I could never hate her which is exactly the reason why I am scared.”
Rob stared in shock at Pine as he witnessed his friend break down. Never before had he seen Jonathan Pine so distraught and defeated. He wanted to say something to perhaps lighten the mood, but could think of nothing.
Angela tossed her phone onto her desk and clicked her tongue. "Well, your asinine move probably worked considering she isn't answering my calls." She snatched the drive and paper, turning around to face her laptop and began tapping away. "You can go home now, Pine. I'll contact you when I've got something." She dismissed him, her tone cold.
Taking note of Angela's now toxic mood, Jonathan got up and left, slamming the door behind him. It wasn't the Director he was mad at, but himself. No matter how hard he tried to justify what he did was for Katie's safety, it just didn't sit right. He did it because he is afraid to fall in love and lose her like he did Sophie. That awful night still remained fresh in his mind, even after 7 years. He lost Cameron but due to war and it made him sick thinking of how disappointed his late friend would be knowing how his sister was treated. At last, Pine reached the building and was anxious to think of anything but his faults. He stops abruptly as he notices something on the ground; it's one of Katie's sneakers. Was she in that much of a hurry? Pine brushed it off and decided maybe he should stop by and drop it off in case she hadn't left. By the time he reached her floor, the atmosphere felt off. He didn't like it at all as it gave him the notion that something bad just happened. Could be the residual energy left from their fight three days ago, but it wasn't that. Jonathan's heart began to beat hard and was loud in his ears as he approached her door. With a shaken hand, he grabbed the handle and pushed it down. The door was unlocked, maybe she hadn't left yet? The only problem with this scenario was, not a rustle of frantic packing or footsteps could be heard.
"Katie?" He called out, entering her flat and shutting the door behind him gently. "Katie are you here?" He called out again, receiving no answer. Before he carried onward, Jonathan stepped in something slippery. It was rather dark in the flat and the liquid had a sort of odor to it. When he turned the light on, his stomach dropped as there had been a struggle. Furniture knocked over, sheets torn apart and blood splattered here and there. He whipped around and noticed that a trail of blood had been made going outside. "KATIE!? KATIE ANSWER ME!!" he tossed her shoe aside and frantically looked around her flat, searching high and low. "FUCK!! KATIE!?" Pine noticed her phone on the floor, the screen shattered. Underneath it was a note with sloppy handwriting that definitely was not Katie's.
If you find this, it may or may not be too late for the girl. We are certainly aware of what went on in Moscow and do not appreciate your interference. Consider this a warning and if you're smart enough, you'll pay a visit near London Bridge at 3PM sharp tomorrow. Perhaps Ms. O'Connor is still alive so this was our best shot at getting your attention. You will meet an associate of ours by the name of Joshua and we will know if you bring help. Let's say if we find you did bring back up, little Katie might have an accident that may or may not result in her accidental death. Do not keep us waiting, Pine.
-Anonymous Poppy
P.S.
Roper sends his regards~
In a sudden burst of rage, Pine crumpled the paper and tossed it as hard as he could against the wall. To make matters worse, not only did his eyes land upon a single Poppy but another flower among the Poppy family; bloodroot. Carefully he knelt down, picking the flowers up and noticed some blood drip from the petals. “Katie-” He spoke breathlessly, horrible dread crushing inside of his chest and making it hard to breathe. Tears resided in his blue eyes once again as he stared at the flowers covered in what more than likely was her own blood. “Hold on.” His voice cracked as he stood to his full height, making his way out of her flat with the flowers held tightly in his grasp. He wasted no time in getting himself ready; finally washing away the chill of Russia, dressing in inconspicuous clothing, making sure that his gun was loaded, combat knife sheathed and hidden, and his determination strong. One thing he did wonder was how in the hell Richard Roper managed to squirm his way back into the limelight. He knew that the smarmy crime lord had his ways and his charismatic ways unmatched, but after such a huge blow it was difficult to think of why he’d show his face again. Whatever the case was, it didn’t look good at all. Pine’s jaw clenched at the memory of how Roper had nearly killed Jed and subjected her to horrendous torture. His blue gaze focused hard at the window to the outside, stashing his pistol on his belt in it’s holster. He couldn’t let Angela know what happened or she’d cut all ties and force him to live a life of complete shame. Eventually, she would find out but if Jonathan could get to Katie in time, that was all that mattered to him. Getting her back home safe and alive was all he wanted. Pine shuddered slightly as an icy, invisible touch came over his hand and caused him to pull away in alarm. He looked at his hand, flexing his fingers and shaking his head. That was rather odd and had the agent thinking just for a moment that it could have been something trying to make contact with him.
"I wonder when he will show up!" A short and stocky man with shaggy black hair spun on his heel, getting irritated by the never ending rain. The time was 2:56PM the next day and the associate, Joshua, was already waiting with great impatience. He checked his watch and sighed through his large nose very aggressively, “Well this better not go all to pot. If he don’t show up within the next two seconds-”
The sound of someone clearing their throat caught the grubby man off guard and Pine walked out of the shadows, fury blazin in his baby blues. “Where is she?” He growled, making Joshua very aware of the advantage he had over him in stature. Pine’s hand shot out, grabbing the collar of the associate and getting in his putrid face. “WHERE IS THE GIRL!?” He was letting his anger fly off the handle and get the better of him.
Joshua held his hands up and grinned, “Tsk, tsk, tsk… I’d be smarter than that if I were you, Pine. Should anything happen to me” He tapped his ear piece, “All I have to do is say the magic word and your little friend will go POP just like the weasel!” He laughed, being shoved to the ground and scrambling back up, sneering at Pine. Black, malicious eyes darted from the gun holstered on Jonathan’s belt up to those rage driven blues. “I see you’ve got a little form of negotiation there. Too bad for you, that’s one of the terms you failed to recognize as help.” He waved two fingers and three goons appeared behind Jonathan, knocking him unconscious. “Such a pity this bloke is. Alright boys, take ‘em to the truck and get a move on. He’ll be seeing little Katie soon enough. Hope he likes the make over we’ve given ‘er!” He giggled heinously and rubbed his filthy hands together.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ice cold water was dumped over Jonathan, waking him from his state of unconsciousness and making him gasp despite the gag in his mouth. He shivered violently as the dark room he was in did not help make matters any better.
“Finally awake are we?” A woman… or man's voice spoke.
Jonathan’s eyes shot up to see a bony, feminine and masculine figure standing before him in dim light. His brows scrunched in confusion as he couldn’t quite make out if this person was male or female.
“What are you lookin’ at?” They frowned, kicking Jonathan across the face and scoffing. “How rude looking up a lady’s skirt! Haven’t you ever heard of someone who’s born in the wrong body? Of course not, you’re just another one of them transphobes! Why did I even bother to ask?” The woman huffed, her heels clacking on the concrete floor as she approached the bound agent. A pale, bony hand with long red nails snatched Jonathan’s jaw and deep brown eyes bore into his soul. “Mmm cute one you are. Too bad you ain’t my type and I hate men.” She smacked his cheek and stood back up, snapping her fingers. “Boys!! Hit the lights please!! I’d like to give our honored guest a look at his little girlfriend’s make over!”
Blinding lights caused Jonathan to shut his eyes tightly for a moment before adjusting to his surroundings. He was in a warehouse of some sort that was stacked with all sorts of packages and crates containing illegal drugs and paraphernalia. Upon closer inspection the woman, who he mistakenly misgendered on accident, had sported a black eye with other signs of a struggle. It appeared that Katie had indeed put up some sort of fight and did a good bit of damage as the woman also had a limp and nasty bruised ankle.
The woman scoffed and dropped her hands to her sides, “Bloody hell. Joshua can’t you hear a damn thing I tell you?! I said bring out the girl, not stand there and act like you’re stupid!!” She growled and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and raising a brow at Jonathan. “Oh my bad.” her heels clacked over to him and removed the gag but not the rope around his arms or legs. “Names Natalie Baylor, but you probably already knew that if you did your homework properly. Though, you know me by a different name, my dead name. Nathaniel Zayler? Remember that nasty little bloke? Army? No?” Natalie took a drag from her cigarette and shuddered, itching her dead veiny arm.
Now that she mentioned it, Pine did come across Nathaniel before but never got to truly know him. All he remembered was that Nathaniel Zayler was dishonorably discharged for multiple drug offenses and other vile deeds. “Nice to see you haven’t changed in terms of attitude. Sorry about misgendering you earlier, Natalie. I’m actually not a complete arrogant bigot.” Jonathan frowned and groaned, his face sore from the kick. “Just tell me what you want and release Katie. Please.” He winced as a headache also began to make itself known.
Natalie hummed in delight at Pine’s remembrance and apology. “You haven’t changed much either with your polite and respectable approach. Glad to see that some people at least show an ounce of consideration for a lady and NOT misgender her!!” Her hollow eyes widened around at the goons who cowered away in the shadows. “I’ll tell you what Pine, your little girlfriend showed the same amount of respect by putting on a show of agility.” Natalie took a drag from her stick and blew the smoke, looking around and noticing Joshua still standing against one of the crates, flirting with another man. “This is rubbish.” She growled and made her way over to her agent, putting her cigarette out on the back of his neck and grabbing him by the ear with her nails. “I thought I told you to get the god damn girl!! Do not make me remind you again or I’ll take away first dibs rights on the molly and Loveboat!!” She shoved the crony forward before turning her attention back to Pine. One thing that Natalie absolutely despised was being ignored and pretending as if she didn’t exist. “Anyway, as I was saying, little Katie showed that she wasn’t afraid to fight another woman and even begged to try her out. Feisty little fox she is.” The Mafia woman pulled out another stick and began to inhale the nicotine deeply.
“I can see that.” Jonathan growled and squirmed, noticing his gun was of course gone but his knife still strapped under his pants. “So are we gonna get on with what you’re gonna tell me you want from me or no? As lovely as you are, I’d prefer to move along and have Katie home safe.” He grunted as he began to move his arm, attempting to pop it out of place so he could pull it out of the binding. It would hurt like an absolute bitch, but if it meant getting Katie out then he’d pop all of his joints out of place.
Taking another inhale, Natalie sighed and took a seat on one of the crates. “You don’t want to reminisce about the time in the army? I mean, I can’t say I blame you entirely as we both have our reasons. Me with my ongoing issues and identity and you with… Oh wow! Katie O’Connor! Oh why didn’t I see it before!! That’s Cameron’s little sister isn’t she? I knew she looked familiar with those green eyes. Tsk, shame he had to go the way he did in chunks.” Natalie spoke nonchalantly and paid no mind to Jonathan’s reaction to how casually she spoke. “Anyways! So, here’s what’s gonna happen.” She slithered off the crate and clasped her hands together, grinning as Joshua finally brought a ghostly pale and beaten brunette girl out.
Jonathan’s heart sank at how bruised and battered Katie was. A nasty gash ran from her collar bone to her left shoulder, her lip was busted, nose more than likely broken, a dark bruise garnishing her cheek, rope burns around her throat and wrists and other small cuts. “You sick fuck.” He echoed his words of the past from when Roper showed him what he had done to Jed.
“Ah-ah!” Natalie scolded, waving her finger and grabbing the unconscious girl. “So. Because of your little stunt in Moscow, our business regulations have been heavily shifted over to our American branch and have caused a temporary shut down with our location. We are going to be without income from Belladonna for weeks because of the shit you pulled!! Because of this, Wisteria and Daphne will be livid with their lack of resources from us! All because you had to meddle in our affairs in Russia and cause us to lay low from authorities!” She hissed and tossed Katie to the ground in front of Pine. The skeletal woman grinned as she saw the ex soldier squirm towards Katie to the best of his ability. “She was fun to break and seems to carry a lot of hatred towards you. Wonder why that is? Oh right, you watched big brother blow to bits!!” Natalie laughed wickedly and stomped her feet excitedly like a child. Her shrill laughter ceased after a few moments and she leapt down from the small ledge she stood on. “Now, we’ve got a few options here. First one is that we kill you and the girl to get big bonuses from the higher ups. Second one is that you both walk out of here with your lives, but you help us get our end of the business rolling again. I can’t promise that Belladonna won’t come for your heads after that because they more than likely will, but at least you’ll be alive for a short while. Us Poppy seeds got business to do and Natalie Baylor needs her fix to keep her mind off her war crimes. I’m sure you of all people understand that, Pine.” She paced along, almost circling the pair like a vulture. “Third one is the least recommended but it’s the one where you permanently join us and we inform Belladonna AND Roper of your fidelity. If you go with this one and backstab us, then let’s just say I’ve got someone waiting outside sweet mother Angela’s building right now with something that’s more explosive than our riots.” Her rotted teeth gleamed in the flickering warehouse lights. Natalie snapped her fingers again, “Untie him but keep your guns on them. I’m going to give you five minutes to decide while I go get a fix of some smack. If you haven’t made up your mind by then, well I guess option number one is the automatic choice.” She shrugged and almost glided out like a ghost, shutting the door.
Once the restraints were cut, Pine rushed over to Katie and scooped her into his arms. He made a quick assessment of how badly hurt she was, noting the gash and broken nose. “Katie, I’m so sorry… Fuck, this is all my fault.” He swallowed back tears, pressing his forehead to hers and holding onto her with a death grip. There was no way in hell he would let them take her from his arms again. Her faint breathing gave him a bit of relief to know that she was still alive. Pine’s brain raced through the ideas, dismissing the first option of death. While the second option was the most reasonable, that would still put the both of them on Belladonna’s hitlist. Jonathan assumed that Belladonna was Daniel’s branch and the very head of the organization. Now that Richard Roper had seemingly made a come back and joined forces with Daniel Hasapis, made things all the more problematic. He was not about to make an alliance with that monstrous man ever again and left the second option as their only way out. Jonathan looked back down at Katie, pushing her bangs from her face and staring at her resting state. He had promised her that he would never let anything happen to her. That promise was broken and it had him panicking over if she would even look at him. Pine’s heart ached at the possibility of those beautiful green eyes never turning his way again. There was so much of Cameron that he saw in her, and it brought him comfort in knowing a piece of his dear friend still walked the earth. He couldn’t lose Cameron a second time… No, Katie was not Cameron. She was not her brother or his dear friend but a woman who had stolen his heart within the short amount of time they spent together. Jonathan had made the decision that he would walk until the ends of the world to make up for what he had done. Even if she lost any sort of attraction, he would never want to let her go from his life. All he wanted was her trust, happiness, and to see her blossom into the agent she was meant to be.
“Times up!!” Natalie came back in, her eyes black from the effects of the drug blowing her pupils out. She grinned as she saw Pine hold Katie closer to his body and found it endearing. “What’s your answer?” She walked down, squatting in front of them, that wicked smirk still plastered across her bony face.
Pine looked away from Natalie and down at Katie, his eyes full of emotion. “We’ll get your business rolling again.” He stated, then turning his attention to the skeletal woman in front of him. “But swear to me that when this is all done, you leave her out of this. You can do whatever you want to me but do not touch her.” His nostrils flared.
Natalie scratched her chin, musing over his words and then sticking her thin hand out. “You’ve got a deal, Pine. I’ll keep my word so long as you keep yours. Remember what I told you though, I cannot guarantee that Belladonna will leave either of you be once our arrangement has been said and done. You are free to go. Naturally, I suspected that you’d choose this option and have two of my men waiting outside your flat to deliver instructions on what is expected of you for the next three weeks or so. You also understand that you will not receive any benefit from this? That means no cash or any form of payment. Consider that I allowed you to walk with your lives as payment. Now get out.” Her smirk fell and she rose to her feet, waving her hand for the pair to be blind folded. “Oh, and one more thing before we depart! I will know if you make the choice to rat us out. I have eyes all over London so I recommend that you don’t try anything sticky. Toodles!”
Once Jonathan and Katie were blindfolded and driven to an unknown location, they were unceremoniously thrown out of the truck. As soon as the sounds of the car’s engine grew more distant, Pine ripped his blindfold off and huffed as they were placed in the middle of the woods. “Shit.” He growled as they had also kept his gun.
“OH HELL NO!!” Katie sat up right, eyes wide and wincing as she saw Jonathan Pine.
Pine’s expression fell, “Give me a chance to explain-” his vision was now focused on the barrel end of a gun pointed at his face and saw that Katie’s finger was right on the trigger.
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prompt 2: quarantine
For those of you who still pay attention to this nonsense blog, I’ve been working with @distant-rose on creating this wildly expansive second-generation Marvel AU. It’s pretty wild, has 20+ AUs of itself, well over 100 characters, and a timeline spanning 40+ years. These are their stories.
Characters: Francis Barton, Kassandra Page, Matthew Natchios, Ian Rogers, Gerry Drew, Bekka LeBeau, Megan Frost
Prompt 2: Quarantine
Dates: November 10-24, 2019
Day 1
“Since we’re stuck together for the foreseeable, I think we need to establish some ground rules.” Francis Barton laid down a pad of white paper and pulled out a pen. “It should, hopefully, make this a seamless experience while the Richards figure out if we’re going to die horrible, painful alien-virus related deaths.”
There were worse things than being quarantined in a SHIELD facility after being exposed to some sort of alien virus. They could all be dead, for one. They could also be undergoing some weird mutations -- NOT THAT THERE WAS ANYTHING WRONG WITH MUTANTS -- and grow six or seven different limbs. That would be worse. Really, considering those two options, Francis Barton was certain that quarantine was the best case scenario. But he also knew however long stuck in one place with little-to-no outside interaction was bound to be hell. As such, rules needed to be established.
“That sounds like a very El thing to say,” Kassandra Page, absolute badass and love of his potentially shorter life, noted from her spot on the table. She didn’t even bother to look up from her book.
“Well, she’s the one who gave me the idea.” So what if he wasn’t the one to come up with the rules thing? El was a smart cookie. El was also safe and moderately happy thousands of miles away in New Orleans. That didn’t stop her from blowing up his phone with several texts. He was sure she was doing it to the three other members of their quarantine cohort.
“Should I contact the Xavier School and have them send over their roommate contracts?” Ian Rogers asked drly.
“That sounds like a great idea!”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“See? That’s not helpful in establishing positive roommate relationships.” Francis argued. “Where’s Matt?”
“In the bedroom trying to convince his pregnant girlfriend from murdering him before the virus does, by the sound of it,” Gerry Drew commented. “For what it’s worth, the ground rules sound like a good idea. I was going to suggest it myself, but grew distracted finishing the mission report. Work never ends, even in quarantine.”
“Has my brother-in-law punched you in the face?” Ian twisted in his chair to look over at Gerry.
“No.”
“Wonders never cease.”
Kass glanced between the two men and back to Francis. “El might be right. Maybe we should establish ground rules.”
Day 4
Gerry Drew wondered if he had died and gone to hell. Perhaps the virus had actually gotten to him, eaten him away from the inside out until he perished, and this was his punishment. He could hear the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking from one of the bedrooms as well as Natchios talking to his mutant girlfriend from a different room.
“You would think they would have left us headphones,” Gerry groaned aloud, hoping the one other person in the room would agree; instead, Ian ignored him and continued to tap away at his laptop. Gerry turned on the television. He settled on ESPN, and looked over his shoulder to Ian. “D’you like sports?” Again, no answer. Gerry sighed deeply. “What the hell are you working on?”
“Lesson plans.”
“Lesson plans?” That was not the answer he expected. Gerry knew the other man was contracted by the Xavier Institute to assist in some training, but requiring lesson plans didn’t seem necessary. “They require you to do that shit?”
“Since I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future, I don’t want the kids to fall behind. I’m creating reports for the various cohorts. UV is capable, but she’s short staffed, meaning she’s doing to bring in someone like Jet to help,” Ian explained. He didn’t bother to look up from his laptop.
“I don’t think a few weeks will make or break them.”
“They’re mutants. Considering the targets on their back, it might.”
“I know it’s our job to be spooks and have contingency plans upon contingency plans, but the school hasn’t been attacked in years. They’re prepared. I’ve been working with them longer than you. The targets aren’t that big. Not on the kids.”
“The X-Men are now down several members, including their former leader. While they’ve been left in capable hands, enemies could view the perceived void as a vulnerability,” Ian explained gruffly. “Beyond that, society as a whole is still anti-mutant. Three states have banned human and mutant marriage. Congress still has very vocal members rallying for mutant registration. There are reports of several hate crimes against mutants this year alone. These kids have targets on their backs, Agent Drew. I am right to be concerned.”
“You sound like your sister.” How many times had he heard Ellie Rogers expound upon the injustices mutants have faced over the years?
“I will take that as a compliment; however, coming from you, I assume you meant it as an insult.”
“I actually didn’t. I meant it as a neutral statement. Ellie is a pretty large advocate for mutant rights.” He wasn’t a fan of Ellie. He thought she was both entirely overrated and unprofessional, but he didn’t hold the mutant advocacy against her. “It makes sense, considering the mutant husband and kids.”
“Or she could be a good person. I know you think she’s blinded by her relationship with LeBeau, but there’s more to it than that. You don’t need to have a direct loved one be a mutant to care.”
“But it helps. It is an influence. She wouldn’t have done half the shit she pulled for the X-Men if she wasn’t involved with their leader.”
“Former leader.”
“Are you getting pedantic with me? He was leader up until three months ago.” Then he and Ellie fucked off to retire to New Orleans and raise their mutant kids. Whatever. Arguing wasn’t going to make his living situation any more tenable, but Gerry never met an argument he didn’t fight. “You mean to tell me your mutant niece and nephew don’t have any influence for why you’re working at the school?”
“They are influences, as are my friends, but they aren’t why I care about mutant rights. Not originally. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t always a psychopath.” Ian shut his laptop. “I liked history and politics as a kid. No surprise, considering my parents. Some people are obsessed with studying the Second World War. Others are obsessed with different countries. England. Japan. China. Me? I was fascinated with Genosha. I grew up on my father’s stories of liberating concentration camps, and how we swore never again. Over ten million innocent lives, more than the population of New York City, were lost, slaughtered my Sentinels and the world hardly cared. The world turned their back on an atrocity and wants to put in place structures for it to happen again on a larger scale. I say ‘never again’. Where do you stand?”
He didn’t wait for a response, quickly standing and taking his laptop with him as he disappeared into another room, leaving Gerry alone to his devices.
Day 9
She missed her dogs.
They were currently staying with Barnes and Romanov, so Kass knew they were well taken care of, but still, she missed them. She missed a lot of things. She missed her apartment and her bed. She missed the cafe that was two blocks from her apartment. She usually stopped by for coffee most mornings. They knew her order there and called her ‘Kelly’ because that was the name she gave them. She always paid in cash, so nobody needed to know the fib. It was comfort built on a lie, but a familiar comfort nonetheless.
Nothing about the past nine days was comfortable. Kass chafed at sharing living quarters with four other people. Francis, she could handle. She had more or less been living with him for months. The others, not so much. Matt was like a brother to her, and few others understood her the way Ian did, but neither of those qualities made her want to share a living space with either of them. She didn’t trust Agent Drew as far as she could throw him, which was an added element to misery.
It was only Day 9. Kass wasn’t accustomed to this much stimulus, not without any outlet. She couldn’t go to the shooting range. She was cautioned against excessive training. She couldn’t go to the park for a run. She was trapped in a quarantine pod with several other people on the off chance she was carrying an alien virus. Valeria Richards proposed isolation of two weeks. She had another week of this. Someone was going to die.
Francis was trying to lighten the mood with ice-breakers and other games. It was mostly annoying. They played poker over celery sticks and passive-aggressive barbs. They argued over movie nights Matt and Ian spent most of the time engrossed texting whoever on their phones, which was fine, except for the excessive buzzing each time either one of them received a message. Matt, himself, had several loud phone calls with Bekka, his annoying, pregnant girlfriend. Kass wanted to shake him and scream that Bekka would be fine, her goddamn mother had flown up from New Orleans to spend time with her while Matt was trapped. Gerry had stupidly tried to institute a ‘No Sex’ rule, targeted solely at her and Francis. Kass, in turn, had threatened to break his face.
May the alien virus take us all.
Kass had decided to stay holed up in her room for the rest of the day. It was the only way she could keep from killing everyone, and even then it was a close thing. She could hear Matt having another loud phone conversation in the main area; however, instead of Bekka’s Southern’s drawl, she could hear El’s half-melodic voice over the speaker. From what she could hear, Ian and Francis were also joining in on the chat.
That twisted something else in her, another emotion she had no desire to dwell upon. She hadn’t spoken to El in months, not since that last argument before she’d uprooted her life and ran away to New Orleans. Kass had called the action out for what it was, a stupid mistake. El hadn’t appreciated that, and since El was a stubborn bitch, she dug in her heels and argued back. They’d both said some shitty things, and that was that. The end of almost a decade of friendship.
It was fine. She was fine. El was off to live her life with her husband and babies, and Kass was...Kass was trapped in a quarantine pod with several people she wanted to be exceptionally far away from. Most of whom seemed happily to monopolize the living area chatting away with her about....Thanksgiving plans? Whatever. She was fine. She didn’t care about Thanksgiving. Kass didn’t even want to think about Thanksgiving, not while she was stuck in this space.
She wanted to be alone. She buried her head under the pillow in hopes of drowning out the voices and laughter.
Day 11
Ian was on a beach. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in his quarantine pod, but he was on a beach. He could almost smell the salt of the sea and feel the sand underneath his toes.
“Relax. You’re dreaming,” a familiar voice floated behind him. Ian turned at noise to see Megan Frost standing behind him. She walked slowly toward him, as if she were afraid of startling him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d stop by for a visit.”
Megan was a telepath, a damn good one. She’d been the one who had psychically reprogrammed his mind after decades of tampering and torturing. For the past few months, she had also been his lover. Now, she was invading his dreams and doing so while she was wearing a rather daring bikini.
“I don’t mind at all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his. It was exhilarating even in dream form. “You’ve never done this before.”
“Kissed you? Darling, we both know that isn’t true.” She began to place open mouthed kisses down the column of his throat. He groaned lowly, and tightened his fingers on her hips. She knew perfectly well what he was talking about. She never invaded his dreams before. As if reading his mind, and she probably was, sighed, “I missed seeing you, and since I can’t do that in person, I thought I would try the next best thing. Is that so wrong?”
“No, it isn’t.” Ian was sure some people would mind the intrusion. He wasn’t some people. He also knew better than to take anything Megan was willing to give. Telling him she missed him was a monumental step in the right direction when it came to emotional displays of her affections. She tended to keep her feelings close to her chest. He supposed it probably had something to do with her fiance.
Part of him wanted to ask what the Tin Man was doing now. Was he lying asleep next to Megan, while she mentally fooled around with him? The thought thrilled him. If Megan was carrying out a telepathic affair with Ian while her fiance was right there, surely she was steps away from finally choosing him.
The scene shifted around them, and they were in his studio apartment. Megan pushed him onto the bed, and he fell with a laugh. “The beach no good?”
“I suddenly thought you might like something familiar. The beach is lovely, but nothing compared to home.” Ian didn’t know what home was anymore. He barely knew who he was anymore, but he enjoyed everything more when she was involved, but he couldn’t tell her that. Not yet.
Instead, he pulled her down on the bed, and delighted in her laughter and the feel of her body next to his. “You should do this more often,” he whispered against his lips. A telepathic interlude paled in comparison to the real thing, but it was exciting enough. It meant she was here with him.
“Maybe I--” A crash shook him from his dream and pulled Megan away from him. He could hear shouting and the sound of glass breaking. What the fuck?
Francis poked his head into the room. “Sorry to wake you, man, but Matt and Gerry are having a fistfight, and I might need your help breaking it up.”
Day 14
“Your face looks terrible.” Bekka grimaced over the phone. Video chats had many benefits, but this was not one of them. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it or anything, but what got you fighting Gerry Drew anyway?
“Gerry’s an ass. That’s all. He said some shit, got hit.” It hurt to talk. His face was several different kinds of bruised. Worth it.
“What’d he say?”
“What didn’t he say? He’s been nothing but a pain in the ass for two weeks.” That much was true. He’d been petulant and whiny over everything. Was it annoying hearing Kass and Francis fuck? Sure. Did Ian take extremely long showers? Yes. Did Matt call Bekka often? Also yes. But they all had their reasons for it and even if they didn’t, Gerry was a waste enough of a human that he didn’t care how he felt.
Gerry might top Matthew Natchios’ List of People He Hated.
It was an extensive list.
“I’m sure he’s been a pain. That’s baseline Gerry Drew, but he had to say something specific to see you off. Ian, I’d get. If Olivier were there, I’d get the punching too, but this isn’t normal you.”
Matt considered lying through his teeth. There was no way Bekka would know why they fought unless someone told her. She wasn’t a telepath. Her mutation was explosions. She didn’t need to know, but he was going to tell her anyway. That’s what relationships were built upon. Trust. “He just said some shitty things about you and us. That’s all.”
“Oh,” was Bekka’s reply. Prior to dating Matt, Bekka had been dating Gerry’s best friend. It had gone as south as a relationship could go before they split. Gerry held a lot of resentment about that, especially since Matt had played a very big role in Bekka and Damon splitting. “How shitty?”
Matt took a deep breath. “He implied Baby Girl wasn’t mine.” Bekka remained quiet. “Becks?”
“Didja break his face?” Bekka asked finally. “I’m gonna be disappointed as hell if you didn’t at least break his nose.”
“I’m pretty sure I did that,” Matt answered with a laugh, relieved that Bekka was responding with anger instead of tears. Rarely did she cry, but Matt didn’t want one of those instances to be when he wasn’t there to hold her.
“Good.” She was quiet for a few moments more before she added, “You know Baby Girl is yours, right? No way possible she belongs to anyone else.”
“I know, it’s why I hit him.” He’d been angry about other things. All the shit Gerry had said about Bekka and she and Damon had split, the way he undercut El out of her job as SHIELD liaison with the X-Men, and how he went out of his way to make her miserable. Matt didn’t know much about family, but he knew who his was, and he didn’t like when others messed with them.
“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Val swears that y’all aren’ infectious or whatever. She’s been running so many tests. I miss you something awful”.
“I miss you too.”
“Momma and I are baking you something special too. I won’t tell you what, because it’s supposed to be a surprise. I would trade anything to have you home, but it’s been nice having Momma here.” Bekka’s accent was thicker than usual, no doubt thanks to spending the past two weeks with her Mississippi-born mother. Matt didn’t mind at all -- he adored her accent. Truth be told he adored everything about Bekka. He couldn’t wait to be home and in her arms. “You sure you’re okay with her staying until after Thanksgiving?”
“It’s fine. I love you mother.”
She’d been more of a mother to him than his own mother, not that it was a high bar. Elektra Natchios was a terrible mother, the complete opposite of Anna Marie LeBeau. Besides, it was clear how much Bekka enjoyed having her mother around. Much as she tried to pretend otherwise, Bekka was riddled with anxieties over pregnancy and becoming a mother. Having Anna around comforted her in a way no other person could manage. As far as Matt was concerned, she could stay around as long as she liked.
“Je t’aime. Tu es le meilleur.” She yawned deeply. “Your baby needs to go to bed, which means I am. But good news, I’m seein’ you tomorrow. That’s a win.”
Matt smiled against the phone. I can’t wait.”
He let her go, pleased to know that she was taking care of herself and getting some sleep. He needed it himself. One more sleep, and he would be free from quarantine.
#earth 6828#s writers things#writersmonth2020#ship: mekka#ship: meian#ship: frass#none of you knows what this means
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Let me go through this one more time: Valkyrie is introduced in the film as a stumbling drunk that captures our title hero, regularly tortures him for stepping out of line or for fun, brags to his face about the money she was got for selling him into slavery, and has him sent to fight in the arena (before which he is physically and psychologically tortured some more) where Valkyrie fully expects him to die. It’s heavily implied that she’s done this several times before, which is why she’s the Grandmaster’s favorite – a position she’s notably proud of.
But it’s okay, because slavery is funny, I guess?
Tumblr loves to pay lipservice about how high are their standards for redemption arcs, placing special emphasis on how it is imperative that the misdoer actually faces the responsability for their actions and goes through the painful hard work necessary to atone for their past sins, but Valkyrie isn’t even given the proverbial slap on the wrist for spending decades – maybe centuries – as a unapologetic slaver and torturer because the movie itself never actually acknowledges Valkyrie has done anything wrong in the first place. And that seems to be enough for Tumblr to consider a satisfactory redemption arc even though there was absolutely no arc to begin with.
Valkyrie eventually joins the heroes because she also wants a shot at killing Hela to make up for failing her fallen comrades – the only thing both her and the movie seem to believe she needs any redemption for – and only then frees the slaves for the utilitarian reason of being part of the team’s escape plan. The slave insurgence wasn’t even Valkyrie’s idea (it was Thor’s), which is very telling, but even more telling is the fact that she’s shown to single-handedly start the mutiny by using her privileges to deactivate all the obedience disks and open the cells, showing she could have freed the slaves anytime sooner if she had half a conscience, but she chose to fall back into the comfortable position of the Grandmaster’s favorite scrapper because she was getting money and kicks from her slaver gig until she got a new individual motivation that required releasing the prisoners to further her own goals. How very selfless. But at no point in the film does she get any comeuppance for being a part of the interplanetary slave trade. No one even suggests that she was in the wrong for doing so. Yeah, Thor isn’t happy with being a slave, and Korg calls attention to the fact that she’s harsh, but neither of these are things that affect other characters. She doesn’t have a character arc about becoming a better person who develops real empathy for the class of people of Sakaar she’s been sending to be forced to butcher each other in the arena for other people’s enjoyment. We’re just supposed to roll with the fact that she’s nominally on the side of Good now without acknowledging that this woman’s destroyed people’s lives while sitting back with a smirk and a bottle of booze to watch. Because Hela killed her pals this is all forgotten.
Let me state this plainly, so my point is clear: a *slaver* becomes one of our heroes, and isn’t even given a redemption arc or cursory nod that she’s ever done anything wrong. Have we come to the point of our society that we’re no longer on board with demonizing slavery on principle?
I’m not saying that characters can’t be complete douchebags and still be sympathetic. But there’s a way to make these sorts of characters sympathetic and still condemn their more problematic actions. Rocket is a lying, thieving, violent jerk, but he has a character arc about being better to the people around him, and while his sociopathic tendencies are played for laughs it’s played deadly serious that he acts the way he does because he’s broken inside. You’d have to be a fool to not pick up that he’s probably robbed and killed a lot of people over the course of his career as a bounty hunter. The movies call attention to these personality traits, highlights them, and displays them as bad things that he should leave behind. He doesn’t, because being fixed once they’re told there’s something wrong with them isn’t how people work, but the film recognizes that what he does is wrong. Natasha is a similar case: she’s one of SHIELD’s top agents and before that she worked for the KGB. A good chunk of her career is spent killing people, she’s referred to as an assassin multiple times. But she acknowledges that she’s done terrible things. It’s clear that her past sins carry lasting consequences on her sense of self. When she finds out that SHIELD has been infiltrated by Hydra, she feels even worse because she’s told herself SHIELD is at least doing all that dirty work for something good, but now she’s got no idea how many of the things she’s done “for the greater good” are actually just to further Hydra’s agenda. She has done terrible things, and it clearly weights on her very heavily. Gamora is another great example of a character whose dark past wasn’t simply handwaved when she aligned herself with the good guys, being extensively discussed and incorporated into her current self’s decisions, psyche, moral code and identity.
Meanwhile Valkyrie casually torturing our hero because he’s annoying her by *trying to regain his own dignity* is played for laughs and framed as a mere personality quirk that is supposed to make her amusing to the audiences. Haha, look what a tough girl we have here #GirlPower. The implications of what she did working for the Grandmaster in Sakaar are played down to extremes because the movie is so desperate to sell her as a sympathetic character and is not clever enough to figure a balance between her dark and sympathetic traits like the GOTG movies were able to do so elegantly, so it just takes the lazy route and pretends the former simply do not exist. Who cares about the thousands of innocent lives destroyed because of her when she has such a charming personality (she doesn’t) and a Tragic Backstory™ to make it up for this?
She’s a terrible, amoral, person, but the story, characters and fanbase act as if she’s just a mostly-noble anti-hero who fell on some hard times. Despite, y’know, getting money and kicks out of the whole ‘slavery and torture’ thing. We never see her struggle with the morality of her actions nor express regret for the things she’s done, even though there was plenty of opportunities in the movie to show her doing so, nor is she called out by the narrative itself. She has more than enough legitimate reasons to be disliked and she is nowhere near as disliked as her fanbase likes to pretend she is, and any legitimate criticism against her actions is stomped under an avalanche of ad hominem accusations of racism and hypocrisy that barely even address the points being raised in first place. This is fandom, some people will inevitably dislike your favorite character, get over it. Specially when your favorite character has enslaved innocent people to get money for booze and has the personality of a major jerkass. And if the narrative is not willing to call her out for this, well, someone else has too.
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Tortured Souls. (3)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader.
Summary: Y/N Stark is Tony's adopted daughter. She becomes a deadly agent and part of the Avengers.
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Note: I truly appreciate comments guys, once I read that ‘coments are the only payment fanfiction writers receive’ and it’s completely true! I’m ain’t gonna lie and say that the likes don’t make me happy, but comments would make it all worth it.
(Gifs go to their rightful owners.)
Warnings: Language, angst and mysteries (get your overcoat, hat and glasses kids, let’s unravel this mystery/or get more deep into it!).
Word Count: 4,711.
1 Month After.
Things remained agitated in the past weeks. Bucky kept his distance and didn’t even look at you as you told so, Tony was making travels nonstop searching for old documents of you (which was completely lost of his time since traffic wasn’t a legal thing).
The team kept going on missions but Fury didn’t allow you to go, at first Tony told you couldn’t go on missions, your response was a roll of eyes and the phrase “I’m not 15 years old, I do whatever I want.” But the rest of the team didn’t allow it either. Both because the last mission that you got injured and all the mess about Artem, so you had to suck it up and obey Fury’s orders.
The tension in the Compound was too tense to bear. Maybe it was your mind making pranks or your teammates did look at you differently after you told the truth about your past.
So you decided to rent a small apartment in Queens for a few months until things settled down.
The absence of missions and feeling out of the picture made you mad, all you wanted was to keep living normally and doing your job, but apparently, people don’t need you anymore.
You were cleaning your apartment for the third time in the day when someone knocked on the door. You took a deep breath and looked at the peephole recognizing America’s favorite golden boy.
You opened it and Steve smiled and took a bouquet of wildflower behind his back. “What is this for?” The flowers were beautiful, he smiled at you and you couldn’t keep mad at him with those big blue puppy eyes.
“It’s a ‘hello’ and ‘I’m sorry you couldn’t go on the last mission’ apologize-gift.” He handed it to you, basically took out your capacity to breathe with his hug, and walked into your apartment.
“Wow, that is a very clean apartment.” He looked around and saw that everything was in perfect place and the floor was almost shinning.
“Yeah, I got bored and I have nothing better to do, so…” You trailed off and found a vase to put the flowers on. “Also it is like my mind couldn’t focus in a messy place, whenever I clean where I am physically it is like my mind get easier to deal with, I guess.”
He hummed. “How are you?” He sat on the couch and propped his elbows on his knees.
“Steve I don’t want to be impolite, but honestly? How do you think I am? I ain’t working because something I did years ago is coming back to haunt me. Tony is traveling place to place trying to find stupid documents that he won’t find because he thinks if he finds those it will make Artem get in jail, and somehow will protect me of prison if he proves what I did can be justified as ‘a act of good intention’.” You said it a little too loud and felt embarrassed that your emotions were taking control of your actions. “I am not going in missions and my body misses it so much! I swear I ran for three whole hours today and my body still kicking trying to burn some steam. And I don’t see you guys so frequently as before and this hurts.” You lowered your head and sat on the couch beside him.
He nodded. “You can go back at the Compound at any moment Y/N. It’s your home too.”
You sighed deeply and looked into his eyes. “I can’t Stevie, not when everyone is looking at me with pity because of my past or scared I’ll invade SHIELD and shot Artem.”
Steve crossed his arms over his chest and gave you the ‘cap voice’ “We are not pitying you if this is what you’re worried about.”
You scoffed and shook your head playfully. “Steve you had been really touchy with me after I told you the story, not that I mind it’s you, you can always hug me, I love when you do so! But it has the opposite effect on me, it doesn’t make me feel like ‘I have a friend that cares about me’ it’s more for ‘my old friend that now feels pity for me’ and I can’t live with that. Also, I’m not impulsive okay.” He knows you weren’t, you knew how to fix things properly and in missions you were always the one to find the better strategies, but the last ‘solo’ job it sort says the opposite. “Do I want to kill Artem? Yes, I sure do, but I won’t enter S.H.I.E.L.D. and kill him there.”
A couple of hours after Bucky name came to the conversation, Steve took a deep breath. “I want to talk about Buck, Y/N. He misses you.”
You avoided his eyes and opened your fridge throwing a water bottle to him. “He told you that?” You grabbed one for you and took a few gulps waiting for his answer.
“No, but I know that punk. He isn’t himself, he isn’t since you got shot. And after you told us everything he became worse, he hasn’t slept for days.”
“It wasn’t the story,” You mutters under your breath but failed as Steve has a super hearing, he tilted his head and remained for a more elaborated answer. “After the story and everyone followed their respective lives I went to the gym later that day, I was so mad and I was shaking with adrenaline so I needed to do something with that. I started to punch a punching bag and I kept going and going I was so deep in my thoughts punching and kicking then I was screaming until he took me out of it, my knuckles were open and bleeding and I had displaced my left wrist. He took care of my wounds and then I confronted him and asked why he hadn’t talked to me for so long and then he started to leave but I wasn’t having it so I told him that if he passed through the door he didn’t have to even look at my face again, and apparently, he did since it was four weeks ago.”
His face went to perplexion to wonder. “Wow, I didn’t know, Sam told you two had a discussion but he didn’t know much and when I asked Buck he just avoided the talk. He is so stubborn it’s unbelievable.” He rubbed his face. “Please talk to him.”
“Steve, I know him okay? I know how his mind works and he got mad at himself for not being there to protect me, but I can’t run after him every time. I’m sorry but I can’t, I love him! I really do, he is very important to me but if he can’t talk to me about his feelings I won’t run after him. I can’t.”
Steve nodded and the conversation flowed leaving Bucky aside.
When it got darker he prepared to leave and said he needed to go back to his apartment and when he didn’t tell you why you teased him so he answered that he, Sam and Bucky would go out for a few drinks, so you nodded and hugged him goodbye before closing the door.
While Steve was at your house you showered and ate so you have nothing else do to, maybe go for another run wouldn’t hurt.
Knock Knock
You opened the door expecting to be Steve but you were met with two armed SHIELD agents. “Y/N Stark you are being arrested.”
Firstly you thought it was a joke but their expression remained professional. “Why?” They tried to grab your arms but you moved it and was prepared to fight them. “Don’t touch me! What is this about? Do you have an arrest warrant? I don’t think so.”
One agent tried to handcuff you but you grabbed his armed hand directing it up to the ceiling making the gun shoot and kicked the other agent in the stomach making him retrieve but also bringing pain to your foot since he is using an anti-bullet vest.
The first one unleash the gun to the floor -probably having order to not hurt you- and tried to punch your face, which you avoided and grabbed his hand and tossed it making him moan in pain, his partner grabbed the gun and pointed it to your leg and you tried to hit him again but you heard someone saying “enough” on the stairs and both agents stopped their ministrations and gave a step behind. Fury.
“Hello Y/N, I’m sorry but you need to come with us.” His voice was serious, so serious to the point that you had never heard it directly to you before, only to the bad guys.
“What?” The agents kept staring at you and grabbed their guns going in ‘soldier mode’ again. “Why?”
“The feds want you in jail for murders and for leaking private information about SHIELD and the Avengers protocol.” You glanced at his eyes and tilted your head in pure confusion.
“What?” The murder part you can understand but leaking information?
He nodded and gave you the ‘you better come’ look. “Come with us.”
You shook your head. “No, I’m not leaving until you tell me what is happening Fury. Murder? About the traffickers? Okay, I get that. But what the fuck ’leaking information’ means? I never told anything to anyone!”
Fury lowered his head and intervened when one of his agents tried to grab your arm again. Your face was red with rage. “Please, I need to get you there for interrogation.”
You understood it was useless and Fury wouldn’t hurt you so you nodded. “Can I at least grab my jacket first?” He nodded, you walked to your bedroom and couldn’t help but look at your window and the thought of running away seduced you, but it would be useless so you grabbed your jacket and walked out with them.
Fury wouldn’t hurt you, but also you hadn’t discovered yet who had leaked your information to Hydra, could it had been him?
…
The S.H.I.E.L.D. building was in Washington and being in New York you had to enter a quinjet to get there faster.
Inside the quinjet, the agents kept with their guns close to their bodies watching you with all their attention, you kept staring at them and felt a bit proud of your ministrations to make them uncomfortable. You imagined hundred of different scenarios where you stole their guns and got out of the situation, but you knew you were innocent, at least Fury said it wasn’t any need to put you in handcuffs.
In Washington you walked inside the building to the upper floors, some people you knew waved at you and a few other just shook their heads when saw you.
In the interrogation room, you felt sordid. You had entered in that room before, but you never was the one to be interrogated.
You sat in the chair and Fury stood on his feet. “Do you have any idea why you are here, Y/N?”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Because I committed murder with horrible people that were selling children for prostitution.”
“Not that reason, even though Stark asked for spare you for a few months to fix the situation you are currently in, you are here because you had leaked private information about missions and every one of the Avengers.” His voice was firm and he looked you the whole phrase trying to find a glimpse of reaction. “Also for invade our prison with two other men last night and have released a federal prisoner;” Barely able to believe the new information you looked in complete perplexion. “Artem.”
Your eyes widened and you grabbed the armchair. “Artem is not here? Wait he escaped?”
Fury’s expression stood seriously. “Y/N I know you since you’re a mere pre-teenager, please spare me of stupid lies.”
“Fury I am not lying, and why you are interrogating me if that man is out there?”
“Because you released him!” He shouted.
You let out a laugh and tilted your eyebrow. “This is insane okay? Why would I do that? Why! With all due respect but you are insane if you actually believe I would help that man in any possible way.”
“I would say the same things if someone else told me so. Matter fact I said that two hours ago when a special agent showed me the evidence.” He grabbed a small remote out of his coat and clicked a button that made a footage appear in the black glass window they have in interrogation rooms. You saw two men using ski masks and… you?
You were using a black overcoat that hides your body, your (y/h/c) was loose but your face moved directly to the camera before you shoot it. You couldn’t believe what were you seeing, what is this?
The next minutes the men that were accompanying “you” executed some agents and security guards, then you walked out with Artem by your side before entering a big SUV without the vehicle plate numbers on it. You blinked a few times and pinched your arm not believing in what you had just seen.
“Ready to confess now?”
“Fury it wasn’t me, I swear, I don’t know how it happened but I swear it wasn’t me! For fuck sakes you know me for years now, do you really believe I would do that?”
“Honestly? No. But you may recall that I’m in that business for years now, and sadly I had been betrayed several times with people I thought it would never do so, and it breaks my heart to think you are more one betrayal on my list but I cannot say I am surprised.”
You scratched your hair and looked at the screen again, Fury was right, people tend to betrayal each other especially in that way of life. “It has another footage I want you to see.” He clicked and appeared your face, you were using a Mets hat and was a video call with Artem.
“That is an important information Y/N, do you have sure you want to hurt your loved friends?”
“They are nothing for me, you know that! Just make sure to be at Uchami’s base when S.H.I.E.L.D. get there, they will take you to the States and you can’t let them know you know me, are we clear? I will deposit money into your account so your family will have everything they may need.”
“What about your daddy? Wouldn’t he try to kill me? I mean if they believe in our little story.”
“Tony is not a killer, even if he tries Ross Everest wouldn’t allow, bad publicity.”
“What about the one-eyed black man?”
“Don’t you worry about Fury either, they will throw you in jail but I will take you out, it will take probably a month but don’t worry, their jails are great, have good food even.”
Your voice was different. “Fury that is not even my voice okay?” He just hummed and pointed his finger at the screen and keep silent, you darted your eyes over it once again when you heard.
“I still don’t understand why you’re not talking with me in Ukrainian, my brother had told me you had made agreements with Ukrainian buyers along Mikhail, he said your Ukrainian was as perfect as your Russian.”
“I’m using an app that changes my voice a bit sadly it doesn’t have the Ukrainian option so I had to use it in English, also we don’t know if the phone is clamped so if they found it out I can at least play coy and say that my voice is different or any other shit they probably will believe.”
Fury kept it playing and you heard about what Bucky arm was made of, how Tony made the repulsors of his armor, along with Natasha’s tactics and even the whereabouts of Tesseract. Top Secret information that only a few special agents knew along Fury and some teammates.
You would never sell it, especially not to Hydra! “I will let you alone for a few minutes to think if it’s really the best option to keep lying. I will call Stark and tell your situation. Is not like you care for him anyways.”
“Fury, can you tell me where all the footage came from, who brought it here?”
He stood at the door and looked at you. “Was agent Carter.” He said and left the room, leaving you alone with the small control to watch the footage again.
Agent Carter, Sharon.
Fury.
Fury couldn’t believe that you would be another one to betray his trust, but most importantly he couldn’t believe you would betray Tony and your other friends, but especially Tony since he is the man that saved you all those years ago.
He walked into his office and typed the name Tony on the tablet display it had on his glass table linking the call to his earpiece.
“Hello.”
“Stark, I need to tell you something, it won’t be easy to digest it but I need you to come to D.C cause I need to tell it personally.”
“Fury I’m in an Indian wedding I ain’t suppose to leave at least the next two days.”
Fury rolled his eyes. “I try to go easier on you but you always make it so damn hard. Y/N is here and the feds along the council want her in jail.”
“What? You and Ross promised to give me a few months to collect enough evidence to get her out of it.”
“Isn’t about the murder Stark. Y/N had betrayed all of us, she made all that show and invaded the building yesterday and released Artem, besides the footage we found of two months ago when she was leaking private information for Hydra.”
“Fury do you think Y/N would really do that?” Before he could response Tony answered his own rhetorical question. “That’s a no!”
It had crossed Fury’s mind that this whole situation was wrong, he tried to find a logic explanation, he analyzed the recordings footages for hours examining each detail to find a good solution for all of this. He was lying when he told you the betrayal hadn’t surprised him, cause it definitely had.
“Do you think I would believe it without seeing it with my own eye? It was her, she is here and we won’t release her. The council wants to get her in jail as soon as possible and even with me trying my best to prevent it I don’t know if she deserves my help.” He told Tony and felt a sadness in his heart.
Betrayal was never easy, because it always comes off the ones you weren’t expecting to.
Tony took deep breaths and Fury could hear a gasp over the phone and since he deals with anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder after all the event in New York all these years ago, Fury shook his head blaming himself for hadn’t wait to say it face to face, not like Tony made easier on him, having his difficult personality and all. “Breath Tony, drink something. Will do no good to do that there, come back to the USA and I will try to arrange a preliminary so she can stay in home confinement until she confesses.”
Tony grabbed the nearest cup with juice and propped his body close to a water fountain to sustain his body steady. “I go away for a few days and everything starts falling in my head.”
Tony sipped the drink and when he calmed his shaking hands and breath he asked Fury to prevent anyone else to go talk with you because he would go back to Washington in a few hours.
Y/N.
You played the footage over and over again, of course, it wasn’t you but you need to agree that whoever is behind this were a great shammer.
It probably had been brewing for a long time, whoever did this was smart and knew you, SHIELD and the Avengers too well.
The leaked information made you wonder who did this could be more close than you queried before, such information was locked seven keys away from public eyes or even normal agents. It had crossed your mind each one of your teammates, especially the girls but you know Wanda and Natasha too well, Nat has a history in double-agenting but could she hurt you in that way?
You wonder about SHIELD's agents too. Maria and Sharon and a few others that knew you or at the least thought so. Maria never had a beef with you and your encounters always were more professional, even at parties your longest conversation with her had lasted thirty seconds. The other two agents didn’t have access to such information and Sharon never acted suspiciously around you, of course, she didn’t like when you and Steve walked talking and even laughing around SHIELD, if she was the one could she be so low at the point to try ruin your life out of jealousy for a man that was only a mere friend, right? Expectedly no.
The most fearing issue at the moment you were avoiding. Your biggest fear was not Artem being out there probably planning to kill you really painfully, but the fact that Fury believed what he saw and heard.
You cannot blame him howsoever, he was right you would not be the first case of betrayal if you actually did what he thinks you did, he had too many betrayals and pain in his life. But if he was smart and professional believed, could your friends believe it too? Could Tony or Steve believe it? Fury looked not only professionally but also personally, your friends will definitely see in a personal way.
You growled in frustration and turned the screen off. All the years ago you didn’t presume you would be caught, but even if you were you would go to prison with your head high knowing you did a bloody difference and saved thousands of lives both directly and indirectly.
But going to jail because something you didn’t? Being locked away from society for something you hadn’t done instead of being out there fighting for justice as an Avenger? Oh no.
The door opened and you saw Tony using Indian clothes, you narrowed your eyes but his serious face made your possible sarcastic comment flew out the window.
He propped his back on the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fury called me? Is he telling the truth Y/N?”
You shook your head with a ‘no‘ gesture and let out a puff of air. “Tony, I swear this ain’t me,” You pointed to the black window making him wonder what you are talking about. “I swear for everything that it’s more sacred in this life!”
“I need to see it.“ He walked to the table and propped his hip there waiting for you turn the fake footage on.
You nodded and turned the footage on again. Tony saw the first video and then the other one where you told personal pieces of information about the team.
When it ended he made the same expression he did a month ago when he played the footage of Artem and Fury. “This ain’t you?” His question wasn’t firm, it was pure mockiness. Wait, Tony doesn’t believe you?
“Is not!” You answered firmly trying to confirm your innocence.
He took a deep breath and started to walk in the small room, making circles here and there while his hand rubbed his face. “Well, so we have to agree that the person who made that definitely deserves an award for best director don’t you?”
“Are you serious Tony, do you think I did that? Me?“ He looked at you and you only felt pain. His face held nothing but pure disappointment. “I know this is hard to believe, but please please you know me! Do you think I would be able to do such a thing with you and all of my friends? With Steve?”
He shook his head but his breath kept coming harder and harder making his nostril flares and his eyes watering. “ I don’t know, because honestly, I didn’t know that three years ago you went on that kamikaze adventure in Russia when I thought you were helping animals in Australia, Y/N! And now I see all the videos and what? What you wanna tell me this is some sort of prank or someone else have your same face?” He was shouting and your heart was throbbing as your eyes were watering.
He propped his body against the door again and took a few accelerated breathes panting trying to stead his heartbeat, his hands shaking. “Tony breath!” You stood up and walked to his encounter. “Please look at me, look at me.” He shook his head but he always did that in this cases. You held his arms and lowered your body to the floor bringing his too making him sit. “Breath with me. One, two, three.” You breathed in each number and nodded your head for him to copy your action. “One, two, three.” You kept doing so until he recomposed his breath. “See? Do you truly think I would do something that horrible to you? While I’m the one that saves you of a heart attack every day?” You smiled and he let a small chuckle.
“Considering the majority of the stress is caused by you,” He answered with a sarcastic comeback and you smiled. “Do you promise me that isn’t you?” He pointed to the black screen.
You nodded and gave him your pinky.
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, this ain’t an episode of Full House, move your ass because I want to get up.” You laughed and helped him. “Fury told me he was asking for home confinement. We can fix this at home right?”
You were scared of how you will prove your innocence, but with Tony by your side, you felt less lonely. “Right!”
Fury managed to get you a document and they even gave you an electronic anklet. You looked at it but smiled knowing it would be easy peezy to hack it and get it off of you in Tony’s lab. With the right tools, it would come off without sending any warnings to Ross or Fury.
Tony asked if you wanted to go to the mansion in Malibu but you refused. You had to fix whatever was going on, and running away wouldn’t help.
You went to your apartment but knew it would be the first place Artem would find. You called Steve and asked if you could crash at his apartment, he agreed and started to leave the bar he had been with Sam and Bucky.
He, Tony and you grabbed all your personal belongings and took it to Steve’s apartment. He asked why you were leaving so suddenly since a few hours ago he was there with you and all were normal. But with your expression so serious alongside Tony’s he nodded and said whatever it’s happening he would always be by your side.
You hoped so.
…
>>
Sorry if it’s becoming a soap opera, I swear the fake Y/N isn’t her lost twin sister.
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RWBY Vol. 7 Ep 8 Photo Review (Repost)
Tumblr decided to delete the actual post or something. I don’t know. I’m old man yelling at cloud right now. SPOILERS below
Characters done right.
Winter is QUEEN this episode. Winter’s line about “You’d have to pay me” to smile was great, and I liked her losing her cool and explaining to Penny it’s because of the bad memories in her house. I wish they explored this more, like in a flashback to Winter and Weiss’ childhood. That would have been great, and given a lot of set up into the toxic pool of despair they were both about to go back into. It was interesting her scene with Penny because it created a good juxtaposition from a human who WANTS to be less emotional and robotic, and a Robot that wants to be a human. *cute and tragic vibes intensifies*. It made me weirdly hope for more interactions between Winter and Penny- in which they help each other find a balance between humanity and a sense of duty.
Willow- I am so glad we got to see her. Though it started odd, like she was a total delirious, foggy drunk who forgot her daughter left, and suddenly she becomes super lucid but morose. The tone shift was weird but besides the first few seconds it was great. A lot was conveyed about her- that she’s fearful for her safety, she’s morose, but still cares greatly for her children. The deeper explanation of her putting cameras around could have again been serviced by a Schnee family flashback. Jacques was an authoritarian and awful parent, but not abusive. You can tell this because when Weiss was slapped in volume 4 she was surprised, like it was something that never happened before. However maybe in the past, Willow bore the brunt of Jacques’ authoritarianism, interfering when he was getting too angry towards the kids but causing the physical abuse to be directed towards her instead of her kids. This would explain why she seems concerned for her safety and why she would put cameras around- in case something happened to her there could be a way to bring Jacques to justice.
Nevertheless, the scene was good. You can really tell Willow cares about her kids and her exposition about Whitley was decent as well. But I have a huge death flag vibe about her….if Jacques finds out she’s been spying on him her greatest fears may come true. #ProtectWillow.
Qrow: I like seeing tidbits about Qrow’s struggle as a recovering alcoholic, though I wish they would talk about it more directly. We haven’t seen him a lot, and maybe he could mention that he’s attending AA type meetings or something. I also desperately wish that Yang and Ruby would address it! They have not directly interacted with Qrow much this volume, especially Yang who hasn’t talked to him since like one line in Vol. 6. I wish they would have a nice family moment where the girls talk about how proud they are to see Qrow overcoming his alcohol issues, and give him a good reason to keep on the path!
Speaking of Qrow:
SS Gayship: The trashship vibes are intensifying. Qrow is totally gay for Clover and I am here for it! Okay maybe it’s just friendly and not romantic, but it’s nice to see Qrow have friends. However, seeing how much they playfully interact means that I am going to be PISSED if they just make Clover some sort of double agent and shatter Qrow even more. With Ozpin’s betrayal, his estrangement from his family, his bad luck semblance, I think we have seen Qrow beaten down enough- can we not continually punch this poor character?
Robyn’s smirk at Winter when she says Jacques can’t buy trust like everything else is great. I am also here for shameless RobynXWinter vibes.
Characters done wrong:
Klein- RIP. I’m annoyed that they got rid of Klein. Was the voice actor not available? It would have been better to see him being abused by Whitley and Jacques, or maybe relegated to menial work rather than head butler. Seeing the fallout of his actions is more meaningful than just hearing it. Furthermore, it would also pack more of an emotional punch to see Klein being punished for his involvement in Weiss’ breakout, but Klein needs the work so he has to continue working for them in a more menial capacity.
Whitley- I’ve known for a while they are probably going to have a “rescue Whitley” arc but they’re going about it all wrong. Every discussion with him sucks and is stupid. He’s smarmy and flat as a character, with his only development coming from Willow later. The “revelation” that his façade of arrogance is really because he’s hurt Weiss left him behind in Volume 4 doesn’t make sense, because Whitley was like that before she even left. His façade should come more from fear of his authoritarian, abusive father. Willow should have said something like “he was always trying to be on your dad’s good side, to avoid….well you know. But after you left, I am afraid he may actually be starting to EMBRACE your father’s perspective on life. So please don’t forget about your brother!” Or something like that. The writers and animators continually miss the chance to convey Whitley’s secret desperation as well. They showed one flash of fear in volume 4 and one in volume 7, but when he’s talking to Weiss he should be trying to talk to her in code, or having pain on his face!
Whitley is also the words worst Gmod player. The only person who can get away with the nonprop T-pose is Jeremy MonsterTruckin’ Dooley
Story stuff done right:
The little distraction bit to get Weiss away from Whitley was cute and funny. And it was nice to see comedy in a situation that lent itself to comedy. Last week I thought this “dinner” might have been an ambush in disguise, with Jacques luring Ironwood into Watt’s trap, but seeing how it was actually a huge party with News cameras, tons of guests, and the crew without weapons it immediately became clear this dinner was never going to be outright hostile, but instead served as a backdrop for exposition and plot development. To that vein, using it to give a bit of comedy is totally acceptable and breaks up the emotional scenes as well as the politically tense scenes.
I will say, though, I HATE the fat lady character. What’s with the voice? Is it supposed to sound like Ms. Piggy? This was kinda lame but at least Jaune’s slow mo “YESSS” and then their grimace was kinda funny. And it was a nice twist to have her covered in the food, making it seem like the plan failed, only to have the lady throw her drink on Whitley in a fit.
Faunus discrimination- This volume has been better about building a world that has Faunus discrimination, and the introduction of Marrow has been a big part of that. In this episode, they had one small tidbit with a Faunus guy working as a waiter, literally serving the Humans, but I wish they would have teased out the Faunus discrimination a little more. In this kind of wide setting, with TWO Faunus main characters and a Faunus waiter it would have been a great chance for a few scenes building the culture around Faunus hate.
These are snooty elites so maybe they don’t outright berate the Faunus people, but maybe they try to quickly grab a drink and shoo the Faunus waiter away, or they don’t make eye contact and awkwardly talk AROUND them. Maybe they gawk at Marrow’s tail or Blake’s cat ears before having to be turned away by their friends. Think of how people treat people they are uncomfortable around- homeless, mentally ill, etc. Often people aren’t outright rude to them but reactions can run the gamut from gawking, to awkwardly minimizing interactions, to trying to pretend like they don’t exist. Some of that would be nice, but at least they are taking steps to correct the lack of Faunus hate in previous volumes.
Misery in Mantle.
There is 1 homeless person shown in the episode, which is a 100% increase than prior episodes.
Story stuff done wrong:
So the council is only 3 members? That seems kind of small for a huge kingdom like Atlas. I wish there was at least 5 members, and we could see them speaking for different regions. Instead it seems like there are three members of the upper crust elite and that’s it.
The insertion of Robyn at the dinner was odd, but it seems like Jacques is trying to butter her up. He commends her “vigor” and when she said the people of Atlas are suffering he says “Quite right.” It seems like he’s trying to use Robyn’s frustration as a way to get her on the Anti-Ironwood team. This would at least make sense of why she is here other than to have her scream in between the conversation.
What was with the ending? I don’t get it. Watts disables the entire heating grid, which causes the rain to turn to snow in Mantle. Is this bad? Does this mean they are going to freeze to death? Probably? It wasn’t clear. People looked confused about the snow, and the kid seemed excited which makes me think it hasn’t happened before, but they didn’t seemed scared or really concerned.
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a pal and a confidant
Fandom: Supergirl
Rating: T
Pairing(s): None
Summary: Director Danvers and Supergirl might not be sisters anymore, but maybe they can be friends.
A/N:This isn’t k*lex. If I see anybody tag it as such? Yer blocked.
...
Kara hisses, experimentally probing the cut for the umpteenth time only to confirm what she already knows.
Yeah. There's Kryptonite in there.
Off-brand Kryptonite. Kara would laugh if it didn't hurt to do so. Ever since the aerosol Kryptonite stunt pulled by Otis and Mercy, there's been an uptick in Green-K knock-offs. Very few have been potent enough to have any sort of discernible damage, and Kara has to admit, the look of shock on a would-be assailant's face as she shrugs off the glowing rock is pretty satisfying.
This batch, though.
She takes a deep breath, tipping her head back against the cool brick of the semi-abandoned warehouse. She experimentally narrows her eyes, trying to engage her x-ray vision. It...works? Maybe? She's dizzy; the image of the interior of the building across the way tilts and wavers out of focus. But that could just be the result of the pain.
She takes another deep breath and wonders if she should test something else, like strength or flight, but the prospect of falling several stories onto hard concrete is...very unappealing.
Maybe I can...take it out...? She steels herself, gritting her teeth as she seeks out the offending shard.
As soon as she touches it, white hot pain shoots up her side.
NOPEnopenope. She cringes, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. It's not like the Kryptonite bullet she once extracted from her arm—a single oblong object that was easy to grip and extract.
This is a weird jagged shape, lodged deep in the lower right side of her abdomen. She thinks she can probably get a decent grip on the one edge...but she might pass out before she can pull it entirely free.
And just as she wants to avoid faceplanting on concrete, she'd also like to avoid being passed out in an alleyway, with Children of Liberty and DEO Agents combing the surrounding area.
She bites back an annoyed grunt. Three weeks ago, she would've welcomed being found by the DEO retrieval team. Being safely escorted back to headquarters for some time under the solar lamps? To be treated by medical staff with actual, sterile surgical tools to extract the Kryptonite shard? Great! Perfect! Bring it on!
Now, she can't imagine being unconscious, at the mercy of Haley and her agents, for an undisclosed amount of time. Nightmarish images of waking up in a containment cell as Haley continues her witch hunt fill her mind, strengthening her resolve to steer clear of them.
Which solves the one problem, but creates another.
What is she going to do?
J'onn's office is too far, as is CatCo. She briefly considers L-Corp, but recalls the underground lab where Sam was kept, and the same sort of uneasiness that accompanied the thoughts of the DEO resurfaces. Besides. It's just as far as CatCo, back in the heart of the city.
She feels hot and nauseous. She doesn't have a lot of time here...
“—sure the scene is secure, Director Danvers, and then report back to HQ.”
“...Yes ma'am.”
Kara doesn't catch the full conversation—her ears are ringing and it's possible that the longer the Kryptonite is lodged in her side, the more her powers are affected—but it's enough to know that her sister is here, and won't be traveling back with Haley.
But she's not your sister, Kara thinks, glancing down at her uniform. Not right now, anyway. It's almost enough to make Kara reconsider. To bite the bullet, so to speak, and try to fly out to J'onn's office.
But the torn, frayed edges of the dark blue fabric—which is now closer to a deep purple—is what ultimately forces her away from the support of the brick wall, and out into the alleyway. She sways slightly, and presses a hand to the cut, not liking the pain or the unpleasant, hot stickiness on her palm.
She carefully surveys the main street, making sure to remain out of sight. There aren't as many agents as she feared—there's only a handful of them, eight at most, congregating near two nondescript black SUVs.
She spots Alex off to one side, talking to another agent. Her motorcycle is parked nearby.
A plan begins to form. A risky one, certainly, but far less risky than flying to L-Corp or handing herself over to Haley.
“Bag the rest of the evidence,” Alex is saying. The agent nods; she's essentially giving him the same instructions Haley gave her, which means she's just about ready to leave.
Kara takes a step back, and surveys the nearest building. Like most of the structures in the area, it's brick. Flat roof, two stories.
She hastily runs the numbers in her head—she won't be able to clear it, necessarily. Not in her current weakened, rapidly-de-powering state. But then, she doesn't want to clear it. She just needs a better vantage point.
This is gonna hurt, she sighs, gathering the last vestiges of her strength.
She jumps.
And just barely clears the roof line. She does land on her feet...and then almost immediately drops to her knees with a pained wheeze. Her side is on fire, and she's sure she's just buried the Kryptonite shard deeper.
She hears the motorcycle rev on the street below. Panting with effort, she forces herself to the far side of the roof, and just as she thought, Alex is leaving the scene, turning down...Cypress? Mission?
It doesn't matter—it's a street within jumping distance.
...She hopes.
Even as the world tips dangerously to one side, and something...pulls, distressingly so, in her side, Kara still takes several steps back and leaps once more, praying to Rao that she's guessed mostly right.
She lands in the middle of the darkened street. The asphalt gives a little, because she's misjudged the force, and resulting uneven surface forces her off balance. She almost pulls that aforementioned concrete faceplant.
That, though, is the least of her concerns, as Alex barrels towards her on her bike.
The glare of the headlights is blinding; she's too weak to move. The jump took every last ounce of powers and strength she had. If Alex hits her...it's not going to be good.
She sluggishly brings up an arm to...what? Cushion the blow of a four hundred pound Ducati?
The tires screech, and the bike swerves to one side, perilously close. Kara flinches, but all she can feel is a slight back draft.
She wheezes with relief, physically sagging as the bike's engine cuts out. Kara hears Alex's helmet being tossed to one side, landing with a sharp CRACK on the pavement.
“What the hell—!” she starts to shout, but it tapers off as she gets closer to Kara.
Kara, who is currently on her knees and very nearly bent completely in half as her entire right side throbs. “Um. Sorry,” she says. “Didn't mean...to get so close...”
Alex's eyes are wide with shock and confusion. “What hap—” she starts to say, only to change her mind. “Stay here,” Alex commands, and Kara panics a little as she turns to run back to her bike and, presumably, the other agents.
“No!” Kara rasps. Alex keeps hurrying to the bike. Kara tries again, “You can't—Director Danvers!”
Her voice is firmer. Stronger. Alex stops. “I don't...” Kara pauses. Partially because she's a little breathless, and partially because she has to be careful here. She has to get Alex on her side. Kara doesn't really know what's survived, in terms of Alex's memories of Supergirl—she's not sure even J'onn knows, given how deeply entrenched they were in Alex's psyche—so it's not like she can reliably say, hey, remember that time you helped me out after that brush with Kryptonite poisoning?
It hurts to imagine Alex being ambivalent about the K-Radiation and anti-Kryptonite suit—and, more importantly, dwelling on it is unproductive.
So she thinks instead about...about the DEO, actually, and about all the irate venting Alex's been doing, lately.
“I don't trust Haley,” Kara says. “I need help...and I don't trust Haley.”
She can't see straight and she's barely conscious, but she can see the blurry shape of Alex caught between her slumped form and the bike. She's considering what Kara has said, and Kara knows she's got her.
She's feeling pretty smug about it. She's never been on the 'enemy' side of ‘the enemy of my enemy...is my friend.’ It feels kinda...badass. She smiles. Or...is she actually smiling? She can't feel her face.
“Damn it,” she can hear Alex mutter. She's vaguely aware of her arm being thrown over Alex's shoulder, and being awkwardly lifted-and-or-dragged to the motorcycle...
But then she's out.
And then she's not, when shockingly cold water is tossed on her face.
Kara sputters awake, irritated (thanks to the water) and still in pain (presumably, thanks to the Kryptonite still in her side.)
“Don't move.”
It's Alex, her voice gruff and close by. Kara blinks the water from her eyes, and turns to see her sister seated on one of the bar stools in her apartment, slightly hunched, examining her injury.
“Am I...” the words scrape over Kara's dry throat, “on—a table?” She almost says your table, but catches herself. Supergirl's not supposed to know this is Alex's apartment.
“I didn't want you bleeding on my couch,” Alex tells her. And Kara has to admit...that’s fair. “I don't have any equipment here, just basic first aid supplies.” She finally looks at Kara. Her expression is hard. “It's going to be...messy.”
Kara gives a halting nod. She understands, but. She's not looking forward to it.
Alex nods back—sharp and sure. She disappears from Kara's view, and seconds later, Kara can hear the kitchen faucet running.
Kara let's her head fall back on what is definitely Alex's dining room table. She can feel the woven table runner, functioning as a kind of makeshift pillow.
Alex eventually reappears—she's still in her DEO gear, but her magnet gloves have been swapped out with bright blue latex. A plastic box with a bright red cross on the side sits at the far end of the table.
“Will this work on you?” Kara turns her head to see a bottle of alcohol in Alex's grip. She can't read the label—everything's going a little fuzzy again.
“Uh...” She's certain she doesn't have her powers, so the answer is probably yes. But as she glances down at her side, and sees her hand resting on the table, she notices the bright green glow of Kryptonite poisoning.
Is it a good idea, to mix alcohol and Green-K?
“Yeah,” she says, ultimately deciding that she'd rather risk it, than be aware during what's about to transpire. She weakly accepts the bottle, and gets a good look at the green veins snaking down the back of her hand.
Not good.
She takes a swig, and promptly coughs it up, unprepared for the burn.
Alex rolls her eyes in annoyance.
“You're wasting a very expensive bottle of vodka,” she says. Kara squints at the label. Alex doesn't typically buy vodka...
And then it occurs to her that she bought this for Alex. A gift for being promoted to 'Director' several months back.
(She’s not sure if she should feel grateful, that Alex is using it for this, or a little offended.)
“Sorry,” she croaks, and does her best to keep it down the second time.
She does. She takes another prolonged gulp.
“Alright,” Alex grabs it before she can take a third, “that's enough.”
“Sorry,” she says again. “Least I didn't...waste it.”
“No,” Alex agrees, “but I needed some for this.” With very little ceremony, Alex douses Kara's side with some of the remaining liquor.
Kara's only just starting to feel the pleasant burn of the alcohol; the sting in her side is enough to make her clench her fists as she lets out a kind of pained grunt.
“It's only going to get worse,” Alex warns in a flat tone. But then, she softens, just marginally, as she explains to Kara exactly what she's going to do. Kara listens, and only manages to catch about...twenty percent?
Thirty? Twenty-four? She lets her head fall back again as she considers the numbers.
She can feel Alex poking at the cut. Kara fidgets, unconsciously tensing muscles. But her leg throbs, like it's been bruised.
“Don't move,” Alex says sternly.
“How come...my leg hurts?” Kara's words are starting to slur a little. Has she always been this sensitive to alcohol?
“...I had to bungee you to the back of my bike,” Alex admits under her breath.
Kara blinks, and realizes that she never really considered how Alex managed to get her back here, on a motorcycle, while she was passed out.
Again, she’s not sure if she should be feeling grateful or insulted, but as she tries to imagine the scene, all she can think is that it’s...very funny.
She laughs, only to have her breath stolen away as pain flares in her side. “I said don't move.” Alex repeats, and Kara resolves to remain as still as possible.
Don't move. I can do that. I'm great at not moving...just like I'm great at stealth. Does Alex still remember that I'm really good at stealth? ...Does she know anything about Krypton?
Kara's thoughts are a jumbled mess, and she's not sure if she's out of it because of the buzz or the blood loss.
“I can't really see—it looks like—” There's a frustrated grunt. Then the scrape of the stool against hard wood. The rumble of one of the drawers in the kitchen—the junk drawer, probably, given how much rummaging follows. The drawer closes. Alex's footsteps approach. And then the soft click of a flashlight turning on, and more probing. “I think the shard's intact.”
She probably knows it blew up. Everyone knows it blew up. Does she know about the Phantom Zone?
Wait, wait. Does she know...does she remember Astra?
Of course she'd have to remember Astra. Or at least...partially remember that event...
But...Kara remembers Alex's hardened stare, back in Parthas. Her claims of Kara's invulnerability, and her denial that Kara could ever understand...could ever conceive of anything else.
There were so many times when Kara was vulnerable. Emotionally raw, and hurting.
And Alex doesn’t remember any of that.
Alex, who is currently saying something about pulling out a shard. Kara doesn't care, she's too busy thinking her frenzied, distressed thoughts. Everything she'd talked about with J'onn becomes far too real, as she stares at Alex's ceiling; Alex, who regards her as a complete and total stranger.
Kara feels a sudden tug. Her nerve endings seize.
And then she's out again.
When she awakens the second time, she's still on the table, but Alex's apartment is dark, and Alex is nowhere to be found.
It takes much longer to rouse herself without the aid of the cold water, but eventually, her vision steadies, and there's a distinct soreness that runs...the entire length of her body, really. But the sharp, stabbing pain of the cut and the all-over burn of the Kryptonite are both gone.
She shifts experimentally—both to test her side, and to see if maybe Alex is asleep in bed, or on the couch.
She isn't. Kara sluggishly attempts to reason on why that could be...did she go back to the DEO? Maybe...Kara vaguely remembers something about...Haley? Something about Haley...and then, of course, the impromptu game of Operation, wherein she was the poor schmuck under the knife.
Her temple throbs. Right. A game of Operation, with a side of very expensive, very potent vodka. She runs a hand over the ruined portion of her uniform, noting the presence of a bandage and again marvels at the fact that she can barely feel any pain. Alex did a really good job, all things considered.
But there's the headache to keep in mind; without the DEO solar lamps, her powers are taking their dear, sweet time coming back.
Stupid Kryptonite, she thinks. Stupid Haley. Stupid DEO. She wonders if she's maybe a little hungover.
Long minutes tick by, and still, no Alex. Kara drums her fingers against the table top. She's not at one-hundred percent, but she has just enough energy to be a little restless.
Maybe she should just...leave.
She turns the thought over in her mind. That feels...wrong, somehow.
Wrong to Kara Danvers, she reminds herself. But maybe Supergirl should take off, before Director Danvers comes back and grouches at her some more.
Slowly, slowly, Kara leverages herself into a sitting position, with the intent of slipping out of one of the windows, and flying back to her apartment. Slowly, slowly, she turns herself around, swinging her legs off the table.
So far, so good.
...Except for the nausea that wells up in the back of her throat.
Not a big deal, she decides, as that sort of thing usually passes.
...But not this time, apparently.
Which sends her scrambling to the kitchen, ignoring as her side screams at her to stop. Mercifully, she reaches the garbage can in time, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the bin.
Ugh. Gross.
She braces her hands on the sink, leaning over it, waiting for the feeling to pass.
And, of course, it's in the midst of this...delightful display...that Alex should suddenly reappear.
“How did you know where the trash was?”
Kara looks up, startled. She hadn't heard the front door. Alex is glaring at her, apparently back from an early morning jog, if the windbreaker and Nikes are anything to go by.
“...X-Ray vision,” Kara lies.
“So you've recovered your powers?” Alex counters, looking skeptical.
She briefly considers sticking to her story, but worries that Alex might call her bluff. Ask her to...crush a brick with her bare hands, or something.
She ducks her head sheepishly. “...It was a lucky guess, actually.” It's still a lie, but it's one that Alex appears ready to accept.
“I guess I'm grateful you found it,” she mutters. “...But get out of my kitchen.”
“...Right. Sorry,” Kara hobbles back to the table, dropping into one of the chairs—it seems like a closer, easier alternative to the table itself. “Um.” Kara doesn't know what to say; should she apologize again for trespassing in the kitchen? Ask how the jog went? “I'm...guessing...you got all the Kryptonite out?”
Alex nods, but says nothing else, refusing to elaborate.
Kara offers a flustered follow up, unprepared for the nonverbal response. “I...um,” she pauses. “...thank you.” It's the first thing that comes to mind, and it sparks a reaction in Alex. She raises her eyebrows. In...surprise? “Really. I didn't...” she breathes out sharply through her nose, “...I didn't have anywhere else to go.”
Alex narrows her eyes once more and crosses her arms, physically closing herself off from the gratitude. Kara bites back a disappointed sigh.
But after a moment, Alex shifts somewhat uncomfortably, looking at the floor. Her mouth pulls to one side, in a manner Kara immediately recognizes as 'begrudging acceptance.'
“...Well I sincerely doubt that, but. You're welcome.”
It should be sad, that that's the nicest thing her sister has said to her alter ego in weeks, but Kara's too busy beaming at this development.
There's a lengthy, awkward pause that follows. And Kara doesn't immediately catch it, as she feels fairly comfortable, seated there, in Alex's apartment, smiling like a goofball.
Alex, though, is tense, looking at her somewhat expectantly. And it's only then that Kara realizes that while it's not a problem for Kara Danvers to hang out here, Supergirl has very much overstayed her welcome.
“Oh, I—” Kara clears her throat. “I guess I should go.” She stands to leave, when a fresh wave of nausea hits.
And she must look flushed, as she desperately glances as Alex, because she's already rolling her eyes, waving her towards the kitchen.
“Go, go,” she insists, and Kara rushes back to the garbage can. “Didn't realize Supergirl was such a lightweight,” she grumbles, just loud enough for Kara to hear between gags.
It's not as bad, this time around, because there's not much left to heave up. Once she's finished, she unsteadily makes her way back to the chair, and is surprised to see that Alex has moved it closer to the window, and that her sister is in the process of opening the blinds.
“Sit,” she says simply. When Kara stares at her blankly, she huffs. “You need sunlight to recover, right? So.” She gestures towards the now-open window. “Sunlight.”
“...Thanks,” Kara says, and does as she's told. “I'll...I won't stay long, I promise. Just a few minutes to ease the nausea—”
“No, don't—Just. Sit there.” Alex holds up a hand, making a kind of 'stay put' gesture. “I don't want any more messes to clean up, you already ruined one of my tablecloths.”
“Sorry.”
“And stop apologizing, God.”
“Sor—” Alex shoots her a mercurial glare, “—okay.”
Alex sighs, and runs a hand through her short hair, before moving towards her bedroom. Kara allows her attention to drift a little, not wanting to make this any weirder for Alex, even though this totally wouldn't be weird under normal, pre-memory-wipe circumstances.
Kara silently curses Haley, eyes drifting shut as she relaxes under the soft, warm light of the early morning sunrise.
She can distantly hear Alex opening and closing drawers, cabinets. Probably getting ready for the rest of the day.
She drifts off a bit, after that, only to be shaken out of sleep by her boot vibrating.
“Wzzzt?” She pitches forward. “Wzz...oh.” It's her phone.
She starts to reach for it, wondering who would be calling her at this hour. She turns to look at the clock on Alex's mantle, startled to see Alex standing in the living room area. She's turned away, facing the TV, one hand on her hip, the other holding her phone.
Huh, that's funny, that she's on the phone too—
Kara freezes, eyeing the buzzing phone in her boot.
Alex is still turned away; she carefully extracts the device and checks the glowing screen.
ALEX CALLING.
Kara's just about to shove the phone back into her boot when Alex turns.
Kara hurriedly mimes pressing the 'answer' button, nearly dropping the phone in the process.
“Uh...hello? I mean. Ah. Hello.” She makes sure to hit the 'send to voicemail' option as discreetly as possible. “...I, uh. Right. Yes. I'll be there...shortly. To do that...thing, we agreed to...do.”
She pretends to end the call, watching as Alex does the same.
“That was, uh, a...colleague,” Kara feels like she has to really sell the ruse. “Another...superhero. We have, ah...a thing? To do, so. I...I should really go.”
Alex is clearly both unimpressed and unconvinced by the rambling, but doesn’t care enough to question her further. She just nods.
“Right,” she says, all business. “Just. If your powers don't come back right away, you'll need to change the bandage. And clean it—obviously, we were short on supplies, so it's not my best work...”
“I will. Promise,” Kara says with a smile and a nod. “Thanks again, Director Danvers.”
She moves past Alex, headed for the front door. As she does so, her sister sighs.
“I think...in light of the whole...late night, emergency surgery thing...” she says, “you can call me Alex.”
Kara has one hand on the doorknob, but she pauses, and looks back over her shoulder.
“...Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Alex says, but hurriedly adds, “In the field, though, it’s still ‘Director Danvers.’”
Kara looks at the living room rug. “So...does this mean we're friends now?”
Alex rolls her eyes again.
“Don't push it,” she says. “We're friendly. Not friends.”
Kara narrows her eyes dramatically.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because...I mean. I'm pretty sure I remember some mutual bonding over our hatred of Haley.”
“There was no bonding, you were drunk.”
“We could make a dartboard with her photo!”
“You're feeling better, obviously. You can leave, now.”
“Seriously. I'll pay for the darts.”
And, Kara knows Alex is fighting it, but she can see her smile, even as she puts her hands on her hips and attempts to be mean.
“Who knew Supergirl was such a giant dork, geez,” she exclaims, nudging Kara aside and grabbing the door. “You're worse than my sister.”
At which point, Kara is politely, if also somewhat physically, kicked out of Alex's apartment, but she can hear her sister still snickering behind the door.
Kara smiles as she makes her way to the stairwell at the end of the hall.
“Oh yeah. Definitely friends.”
NOTES:
- I think it’s clear I know nothing about emergency medicine OR alcohol. In spite of being related to individuals who are very familiar with both.
- Title from Andrew Gold’s “Thank You for Being a Friend”
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