#charles is someone who would leave the house over deal with a spider

[adutchlover]

Charles: We have a problem.

Max: What?

Charles: I saw a spider in our room.

Max: And you killed it?

Charles: I don’t think it’s fair for you to ask me that.

Max: Why?

Charles: I have two arms, that thing has eight.

Max:

Charles, reaching for a slipper: I'm glad you're here.

Max: And what about the arms thing?

Charles:

Charles: Yeah, I hope you survive it, mon petit.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself) 

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow! 

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even. 

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.  

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.” 

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N. 

“-What do we do?”  She asks, looking with wide eyes at me. 

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.” 

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

[popculturebuffet]

Hickman’s X-Men Line: One Year in Part 1: Prelude, House and Powers of X, X-Men and New Mutants (Hickman)

Under the cut is an explination of how hickman’s run happened (the mass decay will be covered another time probably), and dives into his x-books: house of x, powers of x,x-men and his breif run on new mutants and what i thought. Pax Krakoa baby. 

One year ago, I breathed a sigh of relief as I read the utterly masterful house of x #1.  See for the past few months, i’d been waiting on baited breath for this comic with a level of anticipation not matched by any before or since. Even the debut of a spinoff to Chew, one of my faviorite comics of all time that i deftnetly need to do a retrospective on, this week got within the same galaxy and it still wasn’t on the same level. This was big, grandiose and everything I hoped for. And whatever issues I had as House and it’s sister series came out slowly died out as the full story unfolded, my jaw dropped and my faith in Hickman to save the x-men was  fully delivered. At last the x-men were back on top. And it was going to be one hell of a ride.  

As you probably know the x-men had been treated pretty badly at marvel due to fox having the movie rights, a move that still baffles and frustrates me. Instead of making money to rub in fox’s face by promoting the hell out of them in merchandise, animation, video games and of course comics ALONGSIDE the avengers, they basically ignored the x-men and fantastic four to give fox less to work with to spite them while fox.. entirely ignored this as since both franchises have been around since the 60′s and the x-men had had mountains of spinoffs to give them mountains of characters. So in short: a decision to spite and hurt their compeitors only cost marvel money, pissed off fans and fox’s eventual absortion as far as I can tell had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. 

Thankfully marvel DID stop being stupid eventually and relented: The Fantastic Four came back a year before house of x with a decent run by dan slott, which is thankfully more like earlier spider-man work and ff work, and less like what his spider-man run became from superior onward despite the ocasional misfire but i’ll talk about both runs another day. I mostly bring it up because with this revivial, marvel also slowly reintegrated the four back into the marvel universe and made their return feel like a big deal.  The X-Men however took a bit: while they got an earlier shot at returning with ressurxion. Buuut with the idea of having hickman return in their back pocket, marvel apparently refused, at least according to cullen bunn who I fell has no real reason to lie, to let the writers rock the boat too much and the era perdictably was just meh, especially flagship book X-Men Gold which was written bafflingly by Mark Gugenhiem and outside of one or two good ideas basically felt like the comics equivlent of one of those party store albums where every song is a cover done by someone who couldn’t give half a damn. There were bright spots though with Cullen Bunn finishing out his awesome x-men tenure with x-men blue, Sina Grace’s wonderful iceman that took the wonky execution of Bendis’ decision to make bobby drake gay and made it work beautifully, and the decent if somewhat baffling x-men red. But overall it just felt like a missed opportunity and with the fox deal in bloom and a new EiC, marvel NEEDED something bigger, bolder and grander to do with marvel’s strangest heroes of all. After all all eyes would be on them while Marvel’s Movie department took a few years, probably longer now thanks to the pandemic, to let things cool off before bringing the x-men into the mcu.  Enter Jonathan Hickman: Writer of another one of my faviorite runs of all time, his Fantastic Four run, along with an enjoyable but heavily flawed avengers run, a secret warriors run i’ve read half of that was a hell of a ride, tons of ultimate comics, and a bunch of indies I haven’t read but are probably great. A wordy weirdo and i’m convinced the second coming of grant morrison, and I hope one day the two work together on something tha’ts equal parts weird and amazing.

The morrison comparison is also apt as both came into the X-Men at a time when the x-men badly needed them: Just like Hickman morrison had to deal with a largely stagnant x-men and changed them to fit the times. And yes unsuprisngly i’ll also be covering morrisons run, warts and all, and it’s also one of my faviorite comics of all time. However Hickman was given a huge advtange his spirtiual predecessor, and really few comics writers EVER have gotten: full control of the x-men line.  Unlike morrison who wasn’t even allowed to use certain characters despite writing the main fucking x-book, Hickman got full creative control: full say in the direction of the story, full say in who came on board and to let them pitch whatever they wanted to do. And honestly it’s an apporach that’s not only reovlutionarly but makes the books FEEL like their actually occuring around the same time. Sure their all still seperate entities, but it DOES feel like one coheisive universe. Contrastingly with the avengers Black Panther’s solo has had him on a year long sojurn in space, before returning to earth.. while also running the avengers over in jason aaron’s run and having his own spinoff team, without any fucking clue as to when intergalactic empire of wakanda takes place in relation to everything else. Tony Stark is currently just taking back both his own damn name and the iron man name in his own book, but is also a major player in avengers, and empyre with no mention of his seeming drunken spiral (itw as a ploy) or arno taking up the armor and I feel these issues rather than the neglect the x-men once had are why krakoa’s impact isn’t being felt more in other titles. I’m not saying don’t let books do their own thing, but I am saying let them have fucking consequences and weight instead of just acting like one isn’t happening or at the very least have a character be absent for an arc so you can fit the other stories into continuity easier. As X-Men’s shown it dosen’t stifle inovation and hell even immortal hulk easily fit into no road home with a fucking note saying “this takes place before x issue” it’s not that hard.  This advantage was likely part of Hickman’s terms for coming back. See the x-men were the one thing at marvel he never got to do. The Gillieon and Aaron runs and Bendis runs meant the spot simply wasn’t open and by the time he was leaving it was clear marvel wanted to bury the x-men not praise them, so his ideas had no run. But the X-Men were what got Jonathan into comics. A shocking fact I learned at last years comic con, during which most of the dawn of x titles were revealed, was he WASN’T a fantastic four or avengers fan as a kid, not hating them but like me with the avengers for some time, not really caring about them. But with both runs, he did his homework, read as much as possible, and BECAME a fan, and it shows as both runs show a deep love for both marvel and the teams present. With X-Men they were his dream, his golden goose, his windmill, he just never was in the right place at the right time... but with Marvel needing his starpower and creativity and having nothing to loose with the x-men and badly needing a big run to hlep keep intrest in the x-men till the new movies, he finally was. So seeing the company needed him and he could get his dream and the control he needed, while dc had just taken bendis, didn’t need him and until very recently was ran by a moron, his choice to come back to marvel instead of go to dc as he’s admitted, was obvious. And it ended up being the right one. House and Powers of x were massive creative and commerical hits and the following titles have all been mostly praised. The new direction has been a boon for the franchise,k the fans and marvel.  So being a fan of this direction, as you can tell by the massive intro, to give my thoughts on each book so far: what I think their doing right, where some went wrong etc, since I’d rather wait another year or so befor ediving into these and let some more of hickman’s plans and future story hints spread throughout his books pay off first. WIth that all out of the way it’’s time for a deep dive of x.So grab some plant based snacks, your x-shaped helmets, and your krakoan coffee, it’s time to finally get into hickman’s era of x-men. 

HOUSE OF X AND POWERS OF X The opening salvo and just with two mini series that are one, though why he DIDN’T just have them be one big mini series I genuinely do not know, probably to justify having two diffrent artists to carry the load, is an utter masterpiece. Plain and simple. Let’s get the status quo the series set up out of the way so I can dig into it more: Magento and Xavier were revealed to have been working together for years behind the scenes.. with Moira Mactaggert, one of my favoirite x characters who the series changes utterly and forever. See instead of being the one human who consitantly is on mutants side and one of the x-men’s staunchest allies who sadly hadn’t been resusrected in 20 fucking years, she was a mutant herself, her ablility being reincarnation.. and thus had lived through 9 of her 10 lives seeing mutantkind always loose so told xavier and magneto about this in the hopes of breaking the wheel and letting mutantkind live this time.  However hickman , while revealing the alliance does brilliantly still make it work in continuity for me: it’s clear from moira’s notes in one issue, as house and powers and any following titles love having charts or text based sections that I feel give the comics a unique flavor and really help boost most issues, that Charles optimism she was trying to break him of and faith in humanity took years to fully shatter: he plotted and schemed with her to protect his species but it was clear he probably felt it woudln’t be necessary that humanity would prove her wrong.. and by this series it’s clear, no they haven’t changed, the majority of them just want to genocide mutants and have tried again and again and again while the rest who don’t necessarily want it, paticuarlly the superheroes did nothing while Magneto chaffed against her after the whole “alter his infant self after he was deaged by a mutant he made into a baby to be more pacificsitc which naturally pissed him off when that wore off”. Yes that’s a thing that actually happened pre and post retcons it’s why a survivor of the holocaust is , while not a YOUNG man, still healthy and vibrant. It’s a clever way to not undermine those stories while still telling this one and this retcon is a move I like as unlike most retcons it’s both there to tell a good story and excuted in a way that outside of moira dosen’t undermine anything. The Moira retcon I was and to a degree still am mixed on. While the new version of her is brilliant, creative and intresting and I can’t wait to see what happens with her next time she shows up, I do mourn the old as the x-men had few human allies and now their only big one is now a mutant herself, but it IS in service of a really damn good narraitive and the twist that the bad futures presented were in fact other lives of moira was brilliant, and it’s nice to see SOMETHING done with her. I’d rather something that i have a small problem with lead to really great things and be worth the sacrifice of her former character, than just changing things because “fuck it I want to do this and their letting me do this’ as a lot of retcons tend to be. Hickman’s story needs moira and her cycle of defeat to truly soar to the heights it’s reaching, and to make Charles and Xavier’s back alley actions make sense, so i’ll glady sacrifce one version of a character that I really liked for another version of her that’s also really good.  The other big swing though I was completley on board for: Hinted at early on by serveral dead mutants being alived, after a sucidie mission against new big bads and mutant hating extermists orchis, who are far better written than other extermists,   it’s revealed just why death has seemingly taken a holiday: the big plan that has been decades in the making for xavier and co? That will reshape mutant kind and required working with mr sinsiter of all people? Revivie all dead mutants.  See in a brilliant reveal Cerebro isn’t just a mutant tracker; It’s a copier, copying their essecnes reaguarly and storing them for later, updating them every so often and thus meaning any who died can come back. Why it took Chuck so long to do this is also explained as he needed 5 specific mutant power sets to do it and thus had to wait till they had everything they needed: Goldballs, yes goldballs, spits out his giant golden balls, phrasing, which hickman in an insane and awesome turn revealed to be EGGS. Yes EGGS. Proteus, Moira’s son and former villian whose now pacificed since this body cloning process means he has an infnite suply of xavier bodies to burn through and thus isn’t killing people, warps reality to mamke the eggs viable. Elixir, a healer whose been through some shit the poor guy,gives the eggs , once injected with the mutant in questions dna via syringe because of course, life, and Tempus, goldballs former classmate fellow bendis creation and mistress of time, speeds it up a bit so they don’t have to wait a good few decades for some mutants to rerez. The fifth that makes all this possible is hope summers, mutant messiah and adopted daughter of cable returned to promence once more, whose power is revealed to be power maniulation and thus can boost their powers to the degree neded for this. it’s a BRILLIANT turn that not only undoes all the pointless deaths mutants have undergone, but changes the game: Genocide is now near impossible, as humanity has no idea bout any of htis, and instead of mutant lives going down, they can only go once.. as one man once put it...

And as an x-men fan having watched characters I love die again and again for stupid reasons, especially int he placeholder run right before house of x, this was so satsifying. Everyone the x-men had lost, every character I loved who was gone and forgotten.. they were back or would be back.  And thanks to Krakoa they were thriving: By giving mutantkind a homeland instead of a headquarters, a nation given to one of their own because he demanded itbasically, or an island fortress designed to give a dying species refuge, they have a goregous sentient island (I’ve always loved krakoa for the record though I wonder what happened to his clone son), with abundant food, teleporting gates across the world to visit wherever they like or live in the various worldwide habitats if they please, and peace and security they’ve neve rknown. No more being woken up to get to a panic room because a sentienl attacked. No more having religious maniacs blow up busses containing your tine. No more having the vast majority of the superhero community do nothing as a fucking plauge cloud wipes out your species. Anything apporaching krakoa now has hundreds of the most powerful beings alive defending all mutants.. and that includes the worst of the worst, all given amntesty.. but they must tow the line or else be given a fate worse than death. After years of pain and suffering and misery mutantkind is free safe and happy. They still have to fight to get the rest of their kind out of racist hands and to saftey, the fight’s not over.. but now the odds are in mutantkinds favor. It’s paradise.  And yet this mini, and this whole run dosen’t run from tough issues; The mutants are now isolationists and only mutants are allowed on krakoa itself.. on the one hand this is a bad idelogy and potentially dangerous, instead of fighting for harmony fighting for my land alone.. but it’s also see why Mutantkind has taken to it. The X-Men have tried for at the least a decade in universe and at the most and most likely 15 years to live in harmony, fight for mankind and make peace with them.. and only a small chunk has acutally tried to help them with that. The other large fraction? They either build death machines to try and wipe out all mutants, and in the case of Cassandra NOva who while not a human is still a racist genocidal bitch, SUCCEED in wiping out a large chunk, or do nothing while mutantkind suffers.  The series forces you to think about the implications that marvel comics themselves previous ignored: That with all the superheros in this world who arent mutants.. more often than not htey’ve done fuck all when terrible shit happens. When Genosha died, not a one asked the x-men what happened or tried to hunt down those responsible. When Decemation happened, the avengers were more concerned with helping the x-men cover it up than helping them move on and did nothing as the goverment made xavier’s into a reservation, even after regrestration happened and the goverment had more heroes than ever to spare to helping them. When the T-Mist happened years later instead of stopping terrigin or asking the inhumans to stop it for the good of another race, the rest of the heroes just did fuck all. Sure the avengers were on a budget and the ff were asbent, but there were enough heroes in the world still and enough teams to do something about it and only the ones with mutants on them did!. IT’s hard to say “well you shoudln’t exclude them”.. when the rest of superhero kind has been subtly doing it their whole lives.  But it dosen’t shy away from the claims of racial superiority the isoaltion or the fact the x-men basically sued for nationhood by making requiring recognizing their nation hood the price for trading for their life saving and extending, world changing drugs, which you would still need to buy. There’s other issues, one that i’ll get to in a moment as it was only revealed in x-men. Various characters, Corsair in issue one of the ongoing, the fincial summit in issue 4 and the ff both in house of x #1 and ff/x-men, all question this and some of the ethics. Hickman brilliantly decides instead of just painting the x-men as absolute moral rights, to show their new nation warts and all: the genuine good their doing and trying to do but also the price they have to pay for it and the mistakes they may be making. And the compromise necessary to build a nation. It’s all chiling, compelling shit that’s even more releveant in a time when bigotry is piling up like crazy. Both house and x-men, which i’ll get to in a second, ask questions with no easy answers and it makes them a compelling read.  Also compelling is the two mini series use of flashbacks: The two previous moira timelines, which we learn are just that as we go, are compelling with the apoclaypse timeline having loveable heroes were are heartbroken to see die in the struggle, while the last timeline seemingly sees the mutants turn as bad as the humans.. only to peel back a layer at the end and reveal humans are still very much the real monsters, and them evolving via machine is a threat to mutant kind's natural evolution. It was a good story twist and of course there’s FAR more to dig into in both books, and I defintely will at some point in the future as I said. But there’s tons of great ideas here: Sinsiter not only being a mutant but a reluctant ally, the same of apocalyspe, the heavy questions I got into above, the idea of machines being mutants greatest threat which makes a ton of sense, and the various ones I already went into. I can’t gush about this book enough, but since this is already long enough i’m trying. The point is both mini series are great and how you do a self contianed event perfectlY plenty of consequence, plenty of scope but enough character and brilliant ideas and a FUCK TON of quotable and iconic lines, all blend into one of the very best series i’ve ever read. And lead directly into..

X-Men I talked about a lot of what this book represents above as it’s a direct continuation of the above, but the book on it’s own is still something diffrent. while it continues setting things up, playing with the new toybox hickman set up, and asking the tough questions, x-men does it in a diffrent way. House and Powers bounce around through time while all telling one huge story and one huge bundle of setup for this status quo.  X-Men instead is a bunch of single issues. It’s still a ton of setup, though with enough payoff to house and powers that it at least so far hasn’t become tedious, especailly since hickman specifically has plans for all of it and has shown in the past he’s a long game man when it comes to storytelling, but through more action packed stories that, with the exception of mistque’s spotlight issue so far, have one shared element: Cyclops, aka Scott Summers, who as grand captain of krakoa is the nation’s ruling council’s go to guy for missions and who he himself can form any team he once for any mission.  Cyclops, like the x-men hadn’t been treated well for years; Various characters lambasted him after the phoenix force drove him mad and lead to him killing charles xavier, and before that his run as leader of utopia, not helped by x-force painting him as a cold heartless dickweed, had him forced to make questionable decisions that made fans turn agains thim despite the hard position he was in. But now with the burden of absolute leadership of mutantkind in other hands, HIckman writes scott beautifully and has restored him to his proper place.  WIth Xavier taking over as absolute leader of mutantkind and his race no longer hanging by a thread for the first time in years scott can relax and ENJOY himself. As the first issue shows he has everything he ever could have possibly wanted: A healthy marriage with Jean again, and an open one at that with him free to still see emma and Jean openly seeing Logan. Logan himself no longer trying to murder scott for his mistakes or kill his teenage self due to bad writing, but being his best friend again and also living with him and presumibly having threeways because they have connected bedrooms and of course jean would want both at once. Maybe they also just fuck each other sometimes again the details haven’t exactly been clear but it’d explain the tension disappearing. Maybe the schism would’ve ended quicker if Cyclops and Wolverine just fucked each other after children of the atom. Hey not every question is a deep personal one on krakoa sometimesm it’s just “Are these two fucking and could it have solved things faster in the past if they did?”. Also I almost forgot to mention, and added this near the end of writing this, in additoin to everything else scott now lives ON THE FUCKING MOON, on the blue area with a breathable atompshere, on a moon house with his family and fuckbuddy and Vulcan’s buddys. It’s fucking amazing. But moving back to other things scott’s gotten besides logan’s wang up his butt, as seen in issue one thanks to the gates his dad can now visit anytime, his brothers live with him with Vulcan going from genocidal dickweed to weirdo thanks to his experinces between his “death’ and this series, and he’s just. happy. And as a leader he takes the x-men on thrilling missions: the series combines action with character and worldbuilding and it is great.  The worldbuilding part has been tremendous; we’ve seen new foes in the returning children of the vault and horticulture, aka what if the golden girls were tv ma, and also plant based  supervillians plotting a better future for mankind that krakoa’s drugs clash with. We’ve seen nimrod creeping close, charles and magneto not playing ball with mystique start to backfire, the return of krakoa’s lost love, and in my faviorite arc, we’ve seen broo, one of my faviorite x-people and intellegent brood, eat an egg and thus become god emperor of the brood, not only giving the vicious race a chance to reform but giving the x-men a huge advatange in space, doubeldby events we’ll get to in a second.  And biggest of all we saw the crucible: Since those depwoered by the decimation can get power back by dying again, and to prevent overworking the five with mass sucidies krakoa came up with a nasty solution,: earning resurection via ritual combat. And like the above there aren’t easy answers to this: mass sucidie isn’t better or faster, but having mutatns forced to EARN repowering by dying brutally isn’t a great solution either and is kind of sick. And it also opens up questions about ressurectoin that Nightcrawler feels made need reegion to answer htem. It’s again good heavy instreating stuff.  We also got my faviorite issue #4 where the x-men go to a fincial summit, and while security detail cyclops and gorgon fight off hired goons...

Xavier, Magneto and Apocalypse discuss with world leaders about the implications of krakoa’s policys, with Magneto not hiding his love of flexing his superiority. And Charles ends the confrence, after it’s revealed one hired them in an utterly masterful moment: Taking off his helmet to reveal no this is charles, this is him and that even after they tried assintating him he has and always will love humanity he’s just sick of being treated like crap and suffering for doing it and his people suffering for it and he won’t tolerate this sort of shit again. See it for yourself it’s an absolute triumph:

 It’s a great scene. Overall an utterly great title that really keeps the momentum moving and I feel is only setting up for even more things.. the only real issue is that A) the title’s been slower at coming out than the other dawn of x titles, though in the case of the empyre tie in’s it’s not hteir fault but the rest sure as shit are, and B) that it has mostly been just setup but it’s been good enough and enjoyable enough and I feel payoff is coming, so I truly don’t care. At long last we have a main x-men  book that’s not only fantastic but uttterly engaging and I read most issues multiple times. An utter slam dunk

Giant Sized X-Men: This one is incomplete, so I can’t fully say what the full picture is.. but for the three released so far it’s a mixed bag, though the art in all three is gorgeous as Hickman brought on the best artists in the buisness but it’s telling that while New Mutants bellow had issues that bugged me but was still kinda fun, and the above havem y utter priase I nearly forgot to include these issues. None of them are bad and all have gorgeous art as I said, these are some of the best in the buisness, they feel padded. These were supposed to be annuals, but when they decided to change this to one shots.. they shoudl’ve just made them regular length instead, as there simply isn’t enough story here to fill them and so far only Davis’ issue has both had huge setup (both revealing doug’s fusion with warlock is a secret for some reason and that he is indeed still fully alive and revealing what happened to the x-mansion), and due to Davis background as a writer/artist the pacing to fill one issue and even then it could’ve been trimmed. Not bad and I don’t fault the artists for not being used to being writer/artists or having to do so while also conforming to a larger narriative which likely didn’t help or in the third one’s case having to take over for someone else entirely, but it’s , while not bad no ton par with the two above books and I expect better from hickman. 

New Mutants (HIckman’s Issues)  I’ll cover Brisson’s issues next time as they feel like a diffrent run entirely, but New Mutants was.. a disapointment. I was utterly pumped for this title going in being a huge fan of the team thanks to finally reading the claremont and sikenwitz run and before that re-reading abnett and lannings utterly great run and hey jonathan hickman who’d already done gangbusters was writing it! It had a great roster! 

And it starreed one of hickman’s faviorite mutants and one he’d taken a shine to on avengers, and one of my faviorite superheros, Roberto DeCosta, aka Sunspot. On Avengers hickman took Roberto , already a decent character and made him amazing. He was still rich, young and a playboy as ever.. but he used said wealth and his love of fun wisely. When undercover at an AIM casino instead fo throw down, he offers the agents a free day of partying and gambling on his huge dime, then puts them on payroll as his undercover agents. So to recap Roberto DeCosta won the avengers two valuable double agents in what at the time was one of their biggest threats.. by buying them tons of beer and gambling and presumibly hookers. And later got the loyatly of the rest of AIM through these guys, and when Steve found out tony betrayed him and went off hte deep end hunting him instead of stopping the end of the goddamn world, TOOK OVER AIM HIMSELF IN COMBAT WITH THE AIM SUPREME, and then formed his own avengers. 

Literally. He got his own avengers team, most of which left after the apocalypse but he simply found younger and hungrier replacements, and aim.. with blackjack and hookers. The man is a legend. And knowing Roberto if hookers were actually involved he probably treated them with respect and overpayed them because he’s a class act. Then under Al Ewing’s mighty pen, Roberto not only formed another avengers team since most of the avengers he formed to stop the end of the world were busy elsewhere, of young and great avengers, while dying of the aformentioned death cloud, but became an utterly brilliant chessmaster, only failing ONCE becaue of hydra cap getting into his head while AIM was working for the us goverment towards the end as the USAvengers. And yes that’s a real team. It’s as insane and beautiful as it sounds. And his new avengers once fought american kaiju, a godzilla with a flag painted on it chaning usa. Al Ewing is the best and I love him. But he also became a master stratigest and schemer with schemes within schemes within schemes, his crowning one being faking his own death and using his fake funeral to clear out any remaning enimies in AIm, and only quitting AIM to keep it out of goverment hands and in the hands of a trusted friend. He was and still is one of the best avengers there ever was and ever will be.  But here, as the new mutants go on a road trip to get sam? He’s a fucking dumbass who hires the worst space laywer possible, only gets off trial because Sam and his wife save them, glad they weren’t broken up by the way,  and is utterly useless most of the time. It’s like HIckman forgot the last part of his run.. granted time runs out isn’t very good but still, that wasn’t a good thing to forget and like Hickman wants to ignore ewing’s work for no damn reason, even though Ewing did great things with Roberto and kept him relevant when marvel was choking the x-men to death. It’s fucking embrassing and disapointing to see.  The rest of the New Mutants aren’t much better mostly being happy but also not really acting like themselves, with only mondo really standing out since he gets great moments and hasn’t done anything in a while. And Doug, who I negelcted to mention above is one of my faviorite mutants and thanks to being krakoa’s primary method of commuincation, is now one of krakoa’s most important mutants, has a seat at the council with krakoa, and weirdly has his best friend warlock hiding on his arm for reasons that haven’t been explained yet. In Short doug went from beign forgotten to being used awesomely again. Roberto instead of getting the same is set back as a character and ends the arc deciding to stay in space because he misses sam, and will likely become third in his marriage i’m sure, and wants to bone deathbird, x-men villian and frequent shiar usuper. But while rahne actually being happy is a good sight to behold they , except Dani, really dont’ do much. Though Magik gets a fucking amazing scene where she asks the various assasians sent ot kill them if they want to make out , not only revealing she’s bi, but that she’d prefer that to killing them all but does so when they dumbly refuse .. I mean seriously who, whose not in a relationship that’s open or way older than her, not take her up on that?  The plot their thrust into isnt’ great either, mostly just more setup but not present as well as in x-men about Gladiator giving the shiar empire to xavier’s daughter.. yes charles has a daughter that was created from his and his ex wife lilandra, whose still dead’s dna, and letting DEATHBIRD Of all people teach her instead of his damn self. Xandra taking over isn’t a terrible idea it’s just handeld poorly. It just feels disapointing.. like hickman WANTS to do a JLI style book here but the combination of him only doing one arc and not really wanting to write the characters as they should be, an issue that only pops up here and in the new mutants cameo during x-men proper and not for doug ever, that makes it fall falt.. I mean there are utterly great moments like the above, and hte image i used to lead off their just stifled by misusing roberto and everyone else. 

But overall hickman’s works on x-men  are fucking great, intresting and engaging. I’ve read the issues a ton and will again. One small mistep dosen’t take away from all the large good he’s done and he’s made the franchise feel alive again and hopefully the MCU take on it will take after this run, as it’d be a great way to break from the endless xavier vs magneto battles of the fox universe. So yeah overall 2 great books and a thankfully short misfire, HIckman’s on top. And next time we’ll see who he picked to help him carry the x banner home to us all, and who did well with it and whose stumbled a bit as part two delves into the rest of the dawn of x. For now subscribe for more comics stuff as I plan to get back on that, including I hope a restrospective on the fox era x-men sometime soon, animation reviews, and more fun stuff. And until then, courage. 

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Qi Flows for Her

Chapter Eight

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC x Bucky Barnes  |  Word Count: 5425 Warnings: Violence, swearing, slight angst

Celine woke to find Peter lightly tapping away at his keyboard. “That doesn’t look like homework.”

He jumped and hit the escape button, shutting down the game he’d been playing. “I was done! Well, as far as I could,” he muttered.

She laughed softly and pushed the blanket away to sit up. “Friday? Increase lighting to normal levels.”

He smiled at her once the lights brightened. “You look better. Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” Celine nodded, rising from the sofa to wander over to the desk near the window and retrieve her phone.

“Good. You were out for a while.”

When she picked up her cell, Celine realized just how long awhile was. “Hmm, longer than planned. Let’s give Logan a call.”

“Really?” Peter squeaked.

“I did say we could call him so you could get more information.” She grinned at Peter when he squealed and jumped to his feet. Chuckling softly, Celine scrolled through her contacts until she found Wolfman and hit the call button.

It only rang once before he picked up. “What?”

“Well, hello to you too,” she snickered.

“Darlin’, you’ve got weird timing.”

“Why’s that?” she asked as someone banged on her door. “Hold on a second. Someone’s at the door.”

Peter beat her to it and opened it wide. “Oh! Oh, man!” he gasped, shock and excitement and a little awe rippling from him in waves.

Celine only shook her head as she hung up the phone. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

“What did you expect would happen after chuckin’ your guts all over the place? The Professor sent me to make sure things were going okay, and to make sure you were feeding as you should,” Logan muttered as he eyed Peter. “Who’s the kid?”

Celine crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “The kid is Peter, and he was the reason I was calling you. He has questions about the Devil’s Brigade. Be nice, Logan. He’s a good boy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Logan, Wolverine, sir.” Peter swallowed thickly and held out his hand.

Logan arched a brow but accepted, gripped Peter’s hand and pulled him closer. “You smell like…” he frowned, “something other than human.”

“I’m Spider-Man!” he squeaked, then slapped a hand to his mouth.

“Peter, it's fine. Logan’s good at keeping secrets,” Celine assure the boy while sending Logan a warning look.

“Mm,” Logan grunted. “That makes sense. Stronger than expected.” He released Peter’s hand to stride across the room, wrap his arms around Celine, and lift her off her feet to swing her in a circle. “Little girl! Missed you.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Wolfman! Put me down.”

“Excuse me, but I must insist you put Ms. Ena down,” Vision stated as he walked through the wall.

Logan’s claws sang when they erupted from his knuckles. “Who the fuck are you?”

“So cool,” Peter whispered.

“Logan,” Celine huffed. “You know damn well he’s Vision. Vis, I’m sorry about him. Everything is fine here.”

“I’m afraid it is not, Celine. Your friend broke in and bypassed all the tower’s security to get here.” Vision took another step forward. “He will need to come with me.”

“That won’t be necessary, Vision,” Steve said walking in the room through the still open door. “Logan. You could have come through the front door. Stark’s pissed about all the locks.”

“Rogers.” He tilted his head. “Where's the fun in that?” Logan mumbled. “And as you’re all sitting around twiddling your thumbs while Hank figures out what the fuck we’re dealing with, I thought I’d come check on our girl and see how she was doing. Seein’ how she hasn’t been feeding as she should, we’re going to be taking a walk.”

“Celine?” Steve very nearly growled. “Have you got something to tell me?”

Celine elbowed Logan in the ribs. “I was fine until earlier today.”

“What happened earlier?” Steve asked, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

“She got sick, Golden Boy. Happens when she lives in this writhing cesspool of negativity. Shit, I can smell it all over the place,” Logan growled.

Three sets of eyes landed on her. “It’s not that bad. Logan is overreacting. I had a private session with Tony today, and it dug up a lot of… mixed emotions.”

“She got sick. So sick Charles noticed. How come none of you did?” Logan demanded.

“I did!” Peter piped up, only to have Steve glare at him. “I mean… I-I came to talk to her about something and noticed she wasn’t feeling good, so I made tea… and just… sat with her.”

“Next time, Peter, if you notice someone isn’t well, you should be informing Bruce,” Steve scolded gently.

“Well, if that’s all? Me, the kid, and Celine are going to take a walk, have a coffee, and talk a little history,” Logan stated, then looked at Celine. “After she puts on some clothes. Wrecked my favourite damn shirt,” he grumbled, pulling on her sleeve.

Celine rolled her eyes. “We can just as easily go chat in the lounge, Logan. Or sit here and talk. Peter’s the one with the questions.” She had no desire to fight with him or have to explain about “house arrest" when it came to light she couldn't leave.

He frowned at her, his brows pulling together into a deep ‘V’ then cleared suddenly when Logan gave a grunt of agreement. “Better to go out later anyway.”

“Are we going out somewhere?” Wanda asked as she walked past Steve into the room, appearing unconcerned by Logan's claws. “Is there a reason we’re all gathered in Celine’s room?”

“Apparently, Celine’s not been feeling too good, but didn’t bother to tell anyone,” Steve grumbled levelling his less than pleased glare at her.

“Celine was sick?” Wanda gasped, then frowned.

“Ugh!” Celine threw up her hands and slapped Logan in the back of the head. “You bloody narc! I had one incident! One! Both you and Charles are overreacting. Look, I had an emotional and personal conversation with Tony. Occasionally the negative sticks, and I have to throw it up like cheap booze. It happens as an empath. Nothing to worry about.” Glaring at Logan, she poked him in the back of the fist. “Put those away before I show you what real claws look like.”

“Don't start with me, sweetheart. You ain't in no shape to be taking me on.” Logan shook his claws at her.

“Don't make me prove you wrong, Howlet,” Celine purred allowing her hair to curl before walking away. “Play nice with my teammates.”

***

Steve waited until her bedroom door shut before turning his focus to Logan. “How bad was it really?”

“Bad enough to draw the Professor's attention, so pretty fucking bad.”

“And how often should she be eating?” Steve asked.

“Twice a week, minimum. She can go a week max if she's had a real good feed. Charles wants an explanation. This is unacceptable. Living in this metal tower with all your... fluctuations, she should be feeding every two days. Why isn't she?”

Completely aware Logan had yet to put the claws away, Steve didn’t move from the doorway. “She didn't tell us it had to be so often.”

“Why would she have to? It takes no more than ten minutes for her to get what she needs. Less time than it takes me to eat breakfast.”

Peter flinched and looked at his feet. “House arrest.”

An angry growl rippled from Logan's chest. “The fuck did he just say?”

“He said house arrest, Logan. And if you're going to be a pussy about it, then go home.”

Logan turned on Celine so fast none of them could move in time to intercept him. In jeans and a cozy white sweater, she still looked ridiculously sexy to Steve’s mind.

“Why the fuck are you under house arrest!” he bellowed, marching across the room.

“Because of who I am. Or have you forgotten, Logan? Has it been so long since last we fought together you've forgotten my true face?” she asked, her words soft compared to her harsh smile.

He froze mid-step before taking the last one into her space, finally sheathing his claws. “That's no excuse. You're a better X-Men than nearly anyone I've worked with before. This was meant to be a collaboration, not a hostage taking!”

“He’s right.” They all looked to Tony standing in the doorway beside Steve. “Scruffy, good to see you again.”

“Watch it, Bub. You and I both know your fancy suit is no match for my claws,” Logan sneered.

Tony held up his hand. “You can’t fault us for being cautious. New powers coming in from a faction we've crossed less than friendly paths with? We needed to be sure she was above board. We’ve done that. Celine, I'm sorry we didn't trust you earlier.”

“I understand, Tony. I'm sure if it were one of you going to Mutant Central, the others would be cautious as well.” Celine nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Logan and Peter have some history to discuss.”

“But we are going out tonight, yes?” Wanda asked excitedly.

“Sounds good to me, Wands,” Tony smirked. “I'll get the VIPs going. You in, Scruffy?”

“Alliance or not, I will punch your teeth down your throat,” Logan growled. “I'm in.”

“Man!” Peter sighed. “Being underage sucks.”

“Doesn't last forever, kid,” Steve chuckled and patted Peter's shoulder. He cast a last glance at Celine before leaving, his heart heavy in his chest when she wouldn't look at him.

***

Most people wouldn't think it to look at him, but Logan had far more patience for kids than he let on. Case in point, he sat and let Peter lob question after question at him, and when Peter asked if his friend Ned could join them, Logan had given a grunt and a shrug.

Celine snickered softly in memory, for Ned had arrived panting and huffing from the elevator, having jogged from the subway, to stop and stare in fanboy awe at Logan.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Wolverine, sir,” he’d said, the excitement on him so bright in his aura Celine couldn't contain her giggle.

Which of course drew Ned’s attention. “Oh, my God…”

“And you didn't believe me,” Peter chuckled. “Ned, Celine. Celine, my best friend, Ned.”

“Didn't believe you about what, Peter?” she asked, already well aware of the adorable puppy crush.

“He said you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen,” Ned breathed. “He was right.”

Peter blushed bright red. “Be cool, man! Jeez!”

“Peter is very sweet to say so,” Celine smiled kindly. “But you should ask your questions of Logan before you must go home.”

While she hadn't left them completely alone, knowing Logan could get descriptive when left unsupervised, she’d moved into the kitchen area to peruse the shelves and begin tugging various ingredients and bowls from the cupboards.

“I hear we're going out tonight because of you.”

The hard voice only had Celine breathing out in resignation. “Actually, you can thank Logan for that. He's insisting, but then I am famished so I could use a bite.” She turned to face Natasha and smiled a baring of teeth which exposed the small fangs she usually kept hidden.

Natasha took a step back, disgust written on her face. “Keep your needs to yourself.”

“They won't be a problem anymore as Tony lifted my house arrest.”

“What?” she snapped. “What did you do to him?”

Celine rolled her eyes and turned back to her task. “Nothing. He made the decision all on his own.”

“I don't believe you,” she hissed.

“Problem?” Logan growled from the opposite doorway.

“No,” Celine stated firmly.

“Funny. Cause it kinda sounded like Red, there was accusing you of something. You got a problem with my girl, sweetheart?” he snarled.

“Logan, it's fine.” Celine’s look was a warning he knew well to heed.

“If she’s yours, maybe you should take her with you when you leave,” Nat said coldly.

Logan crossed the room in a leap Celine was unable to intercept and had Natasha pinned to the wall in a breath. Two of his three claws were embedded in the wall to either side of her neck, while the third slowly extended until the tip pressed to Natasha's throat.

“Now I know you've got a problem with Celine. But you see, red, you aren't dealing with no Avengers here. We aren't like you. We're a little more… animal than you're used to.” He inhaled deeply. “See, I can smell it on you beneath all that fear. The hatred wrapped in jealousy. Celine is beautiful, powerful, and better than you. Stronger, faster. I bet it just burns in your belly how much better she is.”

“Logan, that's enough,” Celine said, lacing her voice with power. His words weren’t going to win you any points with the woman.

“I don’t need your help!” Natasha snapped.

A flash of silver was all the warning Celine had before she plunged her knife into Logan’s shoulder. He grunted, growled, and let his middle claw press a little deeper.

“That was real, real stupid,” Logan said, his voice a deadly whisper.

Celine threw her hands out and wrapped him in threads of gold. She gave a hard jerk and threw Logan across the room, sending him tumbling over the kitchen island, scattering flour and dishes everywhere.

Natasha dropped into a crouch, her bloody knife still in her hand.

“Get out of here!” Celine snapped at her when Logan lurched to his feet with a roar.

“He's crazy!” Natasha shrieked.

“You don't know the half of it!” Logan growled.

When he launched himself over the island, Celine leapt to intercept him and sent the two of them crashing into the refrigerator as Peter and Ned filled the doorway.

“Logan! Don't make me knock your ass out!” Celine bellowed.

“Natasha, no!” Peter cried.

Celine’s head whipped up in time to take a glancing blow from a frying pan. It rang her bell and shattered the hold she had on her chi, sending it bursting into fireworks around her.

A shot of webbing went past her face when Peter sealed Natasha’s hand to the wall.

“Lo… Logan,” Celine murmured, her vision beginning to darken.

“Fuck! Celine!” He grabbed her as she folded in half.

“What the hell is going on?”

Steve’s voice came from a distance, resounding like it was in a barrel, but all Celine could see were Logan’s scared eyes.

“Feed!” he demanded.

“No…” she whimpered.

“Celine you're grey! Feed, goddammit!” He shook her hard.

“Rogue,” she whispered.

Logan closed his eyes, and his aura changed. The dark colours of anger, hatred, and rage softened as he forced his mind to think of Rogue, the woman he loved and lusted after.

Then he sealed his mouth to hers and Celine moaned as she fed. It was like ambrosia, so delicious, his emotions so strong, but when she tried to pull away, he grabbed her face.

“Don't you dare half-ass this, little girl. You know I'll be fine.”

Once more he sealed his mouth to hers and Celine fed another moment longer before forcing him to let her go. “It's enough. I swear.” Still, she clung to him for a moment, finding comfort in his arms, stability, and a sense of home.

“She gonna be alright?” Steve asked.

His voice was much closer, and Celine turned to see him, Bucky, and Bruce hovering near. Tony and Sam talked to Peter and Ned while Wanda worked on removing the webbing from Natasha’s arm with Vision standing sentry at her side.

Logan’s anger surged as he swiped his fingers through the blood on Celine’s temple. “Does this look like she's gonna be alright?”

“I was trying to knock your stupid ass out, not hers!” Natasha snapped.

Celine knew it was a lie but didn't say anything.

“There wouldn't have been a problem, to begin with, if you grew the fuck up instead of acting like a jealous teenager!” Logan barked.

“Enough!” Celine snapped, shoving from Logan’s arms to get to her feet. “Enough of this. Logan, go home. Tell Charles everything is fine and to stay out of it,” she growled emphatically.

“Little girl,” he snarled, his lip curling in anger.

Celine backed him into the fridge, her nose almost on his. “Don't make me make you, Logan. Thanks for the snack but get the fuck out of my way.”

“Celine,” he murmured, softer, gentler than before.

“My team, my problem,” she said then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Go home, please.”

He held her gaze for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. Then he turned hard eyes on Steve. “Captain, take better care of our girl, or you won't like what happens next.”

“Now that I know the truth of her needs, it won't happen again.”

Steve’s cold words might have made her flinch if Celine wasn't running high on Logan’s anger. She usually took on a few of Logan’s less desirable traits when she fed off him.

“Drink something,” she reminded Logan before turning to clean up the mess they'd made. “Water, not booze.”

She paid no attention to the fluctuations of concern in his aura when he stalked out past the others.

“Someone want to tell me why my kitchen looks like a war zone?” Tony snapped.

“I'm sure Natasha can explain what happened,” Celine said, refusing to play he said, she said with the woman who was already working to fabricate a convincing story.

“I'd rather hear it from you, dollface,” Bucky stated.

In a fit of pique, Celine sent her chi out in every direction, collected every shard of glass, every spec of flour, lifted the lid on the garbage can and slammed all in the rubbish bin. “Yes, well, be that as it may, I highly doubt my explanation of things will be any different from hers, and as I've now fed, there is little need for me to leave the tower tonight. So reinstate your house arrest if you wish, take the price of repairs from my wages, and leave me alone!”

She stalked out past Natasha, Wanda, and Vision, and headed for the roof.

It was all becoming too much.

***

“What the hell happened?” Steve demanded, turning on Natasha.

“Look, Celine and I were talking. Logan took offence to something he misinterpreted. He pinned me to the wall, I stabbed him to make him let me go, but it only made him madder. Celine ended up yanking him away and then got between us when he came at me a second time. I was trying to help when she moved, and I hit her instead.” Natasha shrugged. “I don’t think you should allow him back in here, Steve.”

Steve rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache brewing. “What did you say?”

“Pardon?” she blinked at him innocently.

He didn’t buy it. “What did you say to Celine that set off Logan?”

“I… I don’t even remember,” she sighed and held up her hands apologetically.

“You accused her of manipulating Mr. Stark into lifting her house arrest,” Peter said bitterly. “And you weren’t trying to assist anything! You were trying to hit Celine with that frying pan!”

Natasha shook her head. “I wasn’t, Peter. I swear.”

“I heard you! I was standing right there!” Peter pointed to the other side of the wall leading into the kitchen. “You’re always so mean to Celine. Mr. Howlet was right. You are jealous of her!”

“Peter, that’s enough,” Steve said, looking at the kid.

“No! I may just be a kid, but Celine has done nothing but be nice and try since she got her. You’ve been nothing but nasty and rude. She won’t even speak out against you when all of this,” he waved at the room, “happened because you walked in here and accused her again of being something she isn’t!”

“Parker!” Tony snapped. “That’s enough.”

Hurt flashed over Peter’s face. “Ned and I have homework.” Before anyone could stop them, the two boys turned around and left.

Steve could hear the ding for the elevator, announcing Peter and Ned were leaving the tower altogether. He knew Peter wasn’t fabricating a story. Peter didn’t lie, he was terrible at it if he tried, and there was that sixth sense of his. His “Spidey Sense” never let him down. If Peter was feeling something off with Natasha and Celine, then it needed further investigation.

“Thank you, Tony,” Natasha murmured.

Tony glowered at her. “Don’t thank me, Romanoff. Did you really accuse Celine of manipulating me?”

She blanched. “Well, I… it’s just, you let her out of her house arrest. I thought we were going to do more checking before that happened. And discuss it as a group.”

“I’m fine with it,” Sam stated, crossing his arms. “I didn't agree with it from the start.”

“Neither did I,” Wanda agreed, and Vision nodded.

“Logan expressed his displeasure with her not feeding properly. Containing her to the tower was making her sick, so whether we like it or not, we’re not reinstating it. She was starving, Natasha!”

“Then why didn’t she say something?” Nat snapped.

“Why should she have to?” Wanda asked. “If you or I are hungry, we go into the kitchen and eat. Her kitchen is out there, and we were keeping her from it. That is not fair! She shouldn’t have to ask permission to feed herself!”

“Wanda’s right,” Bucky agreed.

“So we let her loose on the unsuspecting public to just suck them dry?”

They all gaped at her in shock, each of them stunned by her ridiculous statement.

“What the fuck, Natalia?” Bucky muttered. “We all watched her feed off Logan, who stood up and walked out of here no problem. She’s not some serial killer out there draining people of life like some evil vampire!”

Something angry and dangerous flashed in Natasha’s eyes. “That you know of.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Tony marched forward to stand toe to toe with Natasha. “I don’t know why you’ve got such a stick up your ass about Celine, but it stops now. If you can’t work with her, fine, I will see you transferred to Fury for assignment, and you can work with SHIELD directly for a while until you pull it together.”

Natasha gasped. “You’d choose her over me? After everything we’ve been through?”

“It’s not a choice, Natasha!” Steve snapped. “But I agree with Tony. Whether you like it or not, we need the Professor and his people. We need the allies. This conflict between you and her needs to end! And if you can’t put on your big girl panties and suck it up, then you need to go.”

“Wow,” she breathed, staring at the two of them. “Wow, I can’t believe you.”

“Believe it,” Tony stated. “So, should I inform Fury you’re in need of a change of scenery?”

She lifted her chin high. “No. I won’t be going anywhere. As the rest of you are clearly so far under her spell you can’t see the truth for what it is; I’m needed here to make sure when you do come out of whatever this is there’s someone here for you to turn to.”

She looked them all over with pity, turned on her heel and walked away.

“Holy fuck,” Bucky muttered. “Did that just happen?”

“Wanda?” Steve looked her way. “What do you think?”

She shook her head. “There is so much turmoil in her mind. She honestly fears for the rest of us, but why she is so wary of Celine is hidden from me. It is as if she has a wall I cannot get through protecting all her secrets.”

“Nat was watching Celine in the library today,” Bucky muttered. “And when I tried to talk to Celine, she did her best to separate herself from me as quickly as possible.”

Wanda nodded. “Celine wants to be involved. She aches to find a place where people see and accept her for who she is, yet something holds her back, but her mind is much more closed than Natasha’s.”

“I feel like I’m stuck in a stage drama and only have half the script,” Tony grumbled.

“I think we all do,” Steve sighed, eyeing Tony. “What did you talk to Celine about that made her sick?”

“I made her sick?” Tony gasped.

“Logan said she was “living in a whirling cesspool of negativity.” I’d kind of like to know why he’d think that.” Steve crossed his arms and stared at Tony.

Tony stiffened. “What we spoke of was private!” he snapped. “I don’t have to explain-” he cut himself off and sighed as he lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to discuss this publicly, but her empathy has helped me… understand a few things better than I did. I need time to work through some things, Steve.”

Surprised by his honesty, Steve nodded. “Understood. You know if you ever want to talk, Tony, I’d be happy to listen.”

He dragged his hand down his face. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Bruce, who’d yet to say anything, poked a finger at the massive dent in the fridge. “Least I didn’t do it this time.”

Sam chuckled and slung his arm around Bruce. “That is true.”

***

Celine sat on the edge of the roof and let her legs dangle. The colder air and quiet with the sounds of the city muffled by distance helped calm her mind. She’d closed herself off to the others, preferring not to feel what happened in the tower, and was caught by surprise when Bruce came over and sat beside her.

“You’re freaking me out. Could you at least sit with your legs on this side of the roof?” he grumbled, making Celine chuckle.

Still, she swung her feet over and sat beside Bruce. He was always interesting with his dual auras. Usually, the Hulk’s lived more in the background, but when Bruce’s counterpart came closer to the surface, the heavy feel of a second person was more present as it was now.

“So, they sent you to see if I was going to throw myself off the roof?” she asked a little sharply.

Alarm filled his face. “Would you?”

“No, Bruce. I would be more inclined to walk away and disappear if I thought it necessary.”

He nodded, sighing a little as he relaxed. “I thought maybe I’d come see if you’d talk to me. Tell me what’s going on with you and Nat.”

Celine closed her eyes and turned away. “There is nothing to tell.”

“Peter heard everything.”

She flinched but refused to speak.

“Look, Celine. I know Nat can be… hard. She’s had a life few would have been able to survive as intact as she has.”

A burst of laughter escaped Celine’s lips. “A hard life. Yes. If only I knew what that was like,” she said bitterly. “I like you, Bruce. You’re a peacemaker, and when peace is no longer an option, you are the hammer behind the final blow. But please, do not speak to me about Natasha’s hard life.”

“Then maybe you should talk to me about yours?”

She lifted her head and blinked at him. Celine had no idea what he saw in her eyes, but the Hulk was suddenly much closer to the surface. “Do I scare you, Bruce?”

“Not much scares me anymore.”

“Hm,” she nodded and looked away. “But I unsettle your Hulk.”

“He’s not mine.”

“Ah, and that is where you are wrong. He is more you than you know, and if harmony between yourselves is what you seek, then accepting that fact is your only option.”

“I thought we were going to talk about you?” Bruce muttered.

“You were going to try,” she smiled. A quinjet rose from below, hovered for a moment, and then took off. “Steve and Bucky?”

“Yeah. They got called out. Going to be gone awhile Stark said.”

Her heart clenched in fear for their safety and a little sadness at not getting to help Bucky tonight. She felt good after her impromptu dinner and knew she was in peak condition to work on his mind.

“They’ll be fine. No one works better together than Steve and Bucky. Those two are like twins,” Bruce assured her.

“They have complimentary auras. One easily blends with the other.”

“What’s that mean?” he asked. “There’s so little I understand about the, well, mystical nature of what you do.”

His curious mind made her smile. “Auras are unique to each of us. They tell no lies, only truth. You cannot hide the history of your life from those who can read and see auras. Steve and Bucky have lived singularly unique lives. What they went through during the war. How they both are men who have lived beyond their era. The love they share, the bond of such strong brotherhood. There is nothing Bucky would not do for Steve and vice versa.”

She held out her palms and allowed blue chi to appear in one and gold in the other. “When they are together, Steve’s aura will reach out to Bucky’s. Bucky’s will reach out to Steve, and they blend.” She brought her hands together, allowing blue chi to lick at gold until the edges of the colours mixed and combined and made green. “They mesh without overpowering each other. They are equals and very connected.”

“That’s… amazing,” Bruce murmured, his eyes wide as he watched her chi ripple and move.

“You have two,” Celine said allowing the chi to return to her hands.

“Two what?”

“Two auras. One for you, one for the Hulk, and they are even more blended than Steve and Bucky’s are. That is why I can say you are part of each other.”

“And why you don’t need me to tell you about Nat?”

Celine nodded. “I see people, Bruce. It is what I do. The good, the bad, the ugly.”

“And judge them as you see fit?”

There was no harshness, not condemnation, just curiosity. She knew he’d seen the recording from Stark’s suit when she’d judged the man on their first mission and nodded slowly. “Some would say it is not my place to judge. Others would say I should judge more harshly. But I am the guardian at the gate. I open the River of Life. It is my blessing and my curse. If not me, who?”

“You’re talking about the afterlife. What happens when a person dies? Styx is a Greek goddess, but what if that’s not what a person believes? What then?”

“The man who shot Peter was not Greek, yet when I tore open the way to the River of Life, his soul still went. I know only what I know, Bruce,” she murmured, holding up her hand when he made to ask another question. “I know there is a place, what name it holds is for each to decide. The Underworld. Hell. The Netherworld. Tartarus. Call it what you wish; each religion has their own version. But in that place, there are things there which would make even your Hulk afraid. So I open the way, hold back the darkness, make a choice, and send the soul on its journey. I have no knowledge of what happens when the doorway closes. Perhaps once the way is crossed, each returns to the place of torment known in their faith.”

“But how can you be so sure they deserve that fate?”

She looked at Bruce, allowed Styx to surface, and smiled when his eyes widened. “Did I not say I can see your life in your aura? I know, Bruce. I always know.”

“And me?” he whispered. “If you were to judge me?”

Celine raised her hand and touched his face, her talons lightly scratching on his stubble. Green had begun to fill his veins, but she soothed them both with a gentle sound. “You are worthy of life, Bruce, and so is the one who lives inside you.” She let her power fall away and patted his cheek.

He inhaled deeply and looked away. “I… I’ve…”

“Give yourself a chance, Bruce. You’re not the monster you think you are. I would know.” Getting to her feet, Celine tucked her hands in her pockets and headed for the stairs, leaving Bruce to his thoughts.

Next Chapter

[cecilspeaks]

136 - The Mudstone Abyss Part 2

Kevin: Age is just a number that counts quickly upward to an ending point.

Welcome to Desert Bluffs.

Hello, Desert Bluffs! Let’s start there. Let’s start with a greeting, a simple hello and of course, a huge smile. Then let’s move right into the good news, the happy news.

Charles and I went on our first date many weeks back, and it was magical! I met up with him in the new town square, which is a sand dune with a cow skull on it. I was wearing my best rabbit fur coveralls and rainbow-striped head band. He was wearing a rose gold lame cravat and soccer shin guards. We went to eat at Desert Bluffs’ newest restaurant, Vermillion, which specializes in lip meat. We shared a bottle of Cabernet and talked comfortably about all the things you shouldn’t talk about on a first date. Politics – we’re both theocrats -, religion – we were both raised in the arborial faith -, sex – we both have had it – and banking. We had some polite disagreements here. Later we went back to my house next to the Temple of Joy. It had been a long time since either of us had had - [chuckling] well, I don’t wanna share too much. So I’ll skip to the next morning, where over coffee we talked about our dreams, or rather dream. It was that same shared dream that all Desert Bluffs citizens have every night with the birds flying in seemingly random directions over the cornfield before crashing their bodies into the ground. Charles, being new in town, had a lot of questions about this dream. But I said that the dream is nothing more than a simple pleasure we all share as a community. It’s fun to know that the whole time sometimes wakes up at the exact same time, sweating and screaming for joy!

After enriching conversation and strong coffee, he said he had to go meet someone. When I asked who, he said, “We’ll talk about it later, it’s not a big deal.” He kissed me and I smiled like I have not smiled in years. I smiled so hard that every glass object in my kitchen exploded all at once. A lacerating confetti of joy.

An update on the construction of the new Mudstone Abyss. Mayor Lauren Mallard reported today that the dig is behind schedule. She sighted a shortage of workers. She had planned for a larger turnout of labor, but this simply has not manifested. I’m disappointed to hear this, Desert Bluffs, but it’s certainly understandable. We all have jobs and responsibilities, and making time to contribute to the building of this great monument can be difficult. Desert Bluffs is a place of hope, of renewal, of refuge for those in need and above all, of joy. The Mudstone Abyss is a celebration of all those things, and I tell you now that the reward will be great. Not just the reward of being devoured by the Smiling God, but the reward of your eternal impact on your town. Think of the Rapa Nui people who built the Moai, or the proud union workers who erected that deco masterpiece, the Chrysler Building. Or the time traveling street artist collective known as Banksy, who built Stonehenge.

Every great monument is built by human hands, and those hands leave their artistry for generations to enjoy, discover, and study. The Mudstone Abyss will be a triumph of Desert Bluffs citizens, and later a tourist attraction, and later a historical landmark, and eventually a curious and misunderstood artefact of a long dead civilization. You can be part of this.

Mayor Mallard and I put our heads together and agreed that the solution here is to set up communes and camps along the dig site to make your commutes easier. Schools and businesses will go on half day schedules so that everyone can make time for the monument. Mayor Mallard, and I support her brilliant idea 100 per cent – believes this is the only task we should be focused on as a town. The Smiling God deserves a physical manifestation of our penitence and devotion. Desert Bluffs deserves a notable landmark, and best of all, if we all worked and lived together, we would get to know each other’s interests, cultures, languages, histories. If we worked together, we could become so much – closer.

And now a word from our sponsors. When we talk apocalypse, we talk fires and spires of smoke and screams and wars and horrid clouds of ash and floods. And this is a comforting vision, because it supposes we’re all in it together. But death is mostly something you keep to yourself. In all reality, the apocalypse is likely going to just be you alone in a room with the flu. Bed, Bath and Beyond: you’re going to need some new sheets.

So after my first date with Charles, we went out again the following week. I showed him around Desert Bluffs, I took him to the Sandy Blossom Bowling Alley and Arcade Joy Compound. We bowled that afternoon and played a few old video games like Ms. Pac-Man, Sleepytime Spider Swallower, and Horse Carcass, all the classics from our youth. We then went for a romantic walk along the beach. Charles thought it shouldn’t be called a beach because there was no body of water, but I pointed out that it was sand, and that there was water somewhere. How close the water is is all a matter of faith. He laughed, and I squeezed his hand. Then we went to the food truck park. He bought some cheese pirogues from the Odessa Dumplings truck, while I went to the Tex-Mex truck and got a burrito filled with fibreglass insulation and refried beans.

The food trucks weren’t nearly as classy as Vermillion, but food is only as good as the company you enjoy it with. And I really enjoyed my time with Charles. It’s hard to intimately connect to people especially as you get older, but my time with Charles made dating seem easy. Why would anyone choose to be single when they could just walk up to the perfect man and say “Let’s know each other”? When life is good, it’s hard to understand how it could have ever been bad.

After dinner, I suggested we could go get a drink together. Unfortunately Desert Bluffs doesn’t have any bars. Not for religious reasons, I explained to him. It’s just that no one’s been able to open one yet. The state places some pretty high taxes on hard liquor transported across dimensional rifts. So I offered to have him back over to my place for some more wine. But he said he had to be going. I protested. Charles said, “Kevin. You fill me with such joy, and I don’t wanna keep secrets. I should tell you I have a son. His name is Donovan and he’s five. He’s a sweet kid.” Charles said he moved here because Donovan starts school next year, and he wanted to raise his boy in a community based in happiness and positivity. But Charles is concerned about bringing dates home with him until he knows they will stay around for a while. “Kevin,” he said, touching my face along the socket of my left eye. “I think you would be great around Donovan.” My smile disappeared from my face. Not because I didn’t feel happy, but because I felt – so many things. My lips couldn’t express them all. He said, “I’m not suggesting we have to be serious right now, we have to figure that out with time.” He then said we should go back to his place, but on the way, he needed to pick up Donovan from Grandma Josephine, who has been babysitting. We spent the rest of the evening drinking sodas at his home. I wanted to touch Charles, to put my hand against his chest again, to kiss him with real passion. But instead we watched Donovan play with toy airplanes and Charles talked about the things parents talk about.

Donovan was nice, but I had to concentrate hard to keep my smile.

[long pause] An update on the construction of the Mudstone Abyss. Nearly everyone in town is now at the dig site, setting into their lean-to’s and pop tents and gathering up the appropriate tools for the physical labor ahead. Mayor Lauren Mallard said she is heartened by the outpouring of support in the past hour. We have made huge strides, already marking out our mile-wide parameter and deepening the pit to almost 1,000 feet. Some stone workers have even begun carving sacred texts from the Book of Devouring. I’m getting reports from the construction area that some of those etchings have begun to glow bright white, as the earth trembles beneath them. Wow! I’m getting chills just thinking about this!

There have been some scuffles among the workers, miscommunication and arguments that devolved into small fights. The Desert Bluffs police department sent two officers, who are also friends of mine from the Temple of Joy, Keon and Kelton, to break up some of these skirmishes. But more fights and arguments happened than they could control. Officers Keon and Kelton reported that parties involved in fights were shouting nonsense at each other. They initially thought some were non-English speakers, but they could not identify the languages. Then they saw young Ryan Nichols, who was an English major at Ala-bay-, Al-bama, at his former university, spouting absolute gibberish at another person. Keon and Kelton reported that sometimes people’s words sounded like normal English, but without any context or meaning, and at other times like unconventional noises that are not common to any human language. But everyone speaks passionately and personally, thinking they’re communicating what they mean, even though they were not. Apparently the fighting became pervasive enough that Mayor Mallard had to make a public address. Here’s a transcript of what she said.

“Desert Bluffs, please do not fight. Remember to take time to smile and relate to one another. If someone says something you do not understand or do not appreciate, simply cauliflower. Roomba starlight rice tank ship. Stallion the ballisters right on through, until balloons.” And then she repeated “until balloons” over and over, with complete conviction and passion. And eventually the fighting stopped, not because of the speech but because of sheer confusion and exhaustion.

As the fighting stopped, so did the construction. No one knew what anyone was saying, longtime friends could not find their words and so resorted to physical gestures. But even Jerry Kramer and his daughter Morgan, who communicate mostly through sign language, found that they could no longer comprehend any of the phrases.

More on this developing situation, but first a look at traffic. Near the dig site for the Mudstone Abyss, several hazy dark shadows, vaguely human-shaped, have begun to appear. They are drifting along city streets, which has caused nearly a dozen minor traffic.. uh.. a-ci-des. Ac-dicent. Acci..dents. There is a ten minute backup entering downtown along sci-fi novel. Al-along rhubarb. Ugh, I can’t oak tree, can’t sparrow modem. Spar-row mmodem. Sparrowmodem. That’s not right. I have to condensate. Ugh. Have to con-den-sate. Yellow refrigerator shelves.

I’m trying to say – crab grass to the petroleum!

[“She Left Without A Goodbye.” by Cerah https://soundcloud.com/cerahmusic]

Machine: First unheard message.

Charles: Kevin. Sorry to bother you, it’s Charles. I need you to get the word out that language doesn’t work right in Desert Bluffs. I haven’t found a single dictionary that expresses normal word structure, I’ve been recording and re-recording this message for the past hour and each time it comes out like alphabet soup. No syntax, no identifiable verbs, no words that even appear to fit together. But I did finally manage to find an old text you wrote about the souls of unpure, those whom the Smiling God cannot clean even upon devour. There’s a certain style of hat you described that can keep your thoughts and ideas pure. I-I drove over to your house, because I remember you had one just like this you told me you wore during sermons. Sorry for going through your stuff, but the hat seems to be working for now.

Anyway, based on my research, I think this dig is (loosing) those spirits back into the world and they’re causing… [whispers] There’s something at my door, Kevin. I-I need to go, OK? Call you back in well, I don’t know.

Machine: End of message.

Charles: [whispering] There’s a hazy dark shadow hovering about my front door, Kevin. It’s not knocking, it’s just hovering in front of my house. I can’t make out a face, I’m peering through a crack in the living room blinds to get a better look. Oh no, I think it saw me!

Machine: End of message.

Charles: OK, it’s gone I think. This giant yellow hat is really remarkable. Anyway, I wanted you to get the word out on your radio show about the dig and let your friend Lauren know as well. If we can fully (stop) this giant (pit), I think we can stem the return of these unpure souls, who I think are dismantling our language.

Also… I haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope bringing Donny around didn’t scare you off. If it did, please just tell me now, OK, I won’t be hurt. That’s a lie. I would definitely be hurt if you stopped seeing me because I have a child, but I won’t be bitter. That’s really it. I won’t be bitter if you tell me now. Now that I think of it, that’s not true either. I’ll be less bitter, less hurt, less angry if you tell me now.

Or maybe you’re busy. I know the Mudstone Abyss has all your attention these days and what with communication failing us, I’m sure it’s hard to think about having dinner or even, I dunno, like a family date. You and me and Donny, maybe a trip to the amusement park or… We were thinking about adopting a cat, is there an animal shelter in Desert Bluffs? That could be a really fun day together.

Either day, when you have a chance, just let me know you got this. I don’t wanna stop seeing you, but I’d rather know sooner than aquifer. Aquifer. What? I mean platter.

Kevin, that shadow is back. He’s not at my window anymore, he’s inside graft huts. No I mean – grant first, grapple wigs grapple wigs, Kevin I – handlebar cereal, OK? Handlebar cereal.

Machine: End of new message.

Today’s proverb: Girl, did you fall from heaven? ‘Cause there’s a giant crater where you landed and radiation levels are spiking.

[the-overrated-taste-of-others]

Kelly's "Community review", for madame Bovary

Oh, Emma. Emma, Emma, Emma. Darling, why must you make it so easy ? No, dear, (for once) I don’t mean for the men. I mean for everyone else in the world who goes into this book just looking for an excuse to make fun of you. I would say that most people don’t know that much about France, but they do know a few things: that they like their baguettes, their socialism, Sartre, dirrrty dirrty sexy lurrrve and they despise this thing called the bourgeoisie. This book doesn’t really do a thing to disprove any of this (though I can’t say baguettes had a prominent place in the plot), and I expect that it had a great deal to do with starting the last two stereotypes. Emma, my dear, Desperate Housewives isn’t your fault, but you can see why some people might blame you, don’t you? Your constant, throbbing whining about how your (plentiful) food isn’t served on crystal platters, how your dresses(of which you have more than a typical country doctor’s wife) aren’t made of yards of spider-spun silk, and most of all how your husband dresses wrong, talks wrong, thinks wrong, WEARS THE WRONG HAT (!!), and is so offensively happy with you that he enjoys coming straight home to tell you about his day and relax in front of his fireplace every night instead of going out drinking- well, there’s a saying about the smallest violin, isn’t there?

It makes it easy for people to plausibly dismiss this story with things like this:

(If it makes you feel better, dear, you are hardly the only one.. Your other compatriots in 19th century repressed female misery receive similar treatment)

It is easy to despise you, Emma. You and your seemingly shallow priorities, the unthinking selfish harm you did to your husband AND your baby girl, the endless excuses you had for your, frankly, off the charts stupid behavior, the fact that you didn’t even try and communicate how unhappy you were to the guy who loved you who might’ve done something about it (since all the evidence shows that he is willing to COMPLETELY CHANGE HIS LIFE whenever you ask him to) and, finally (what can seem to be) the incredibly coward move you made in finding a way to not face the consequences your childish sense of the world couldn’t believe would eventually come up. What goes around comes around ,as the wise chanteur sayeth. (Perhaps the alternate cover above should substitute ‘Justin Timberlake’ for Sassy Gay Friend.)

That’s pretty much how I felt about you for about 150 pages after you made your entrance, Emma. While you started your endlessly copied, endlessly bastardized fall from Angel in the Home Grace, and while you tried to make a saint out of yourself for not having sex with a young clerk who couldn’t have supported you anyway. You were simply the grandmother of Lady Chatterley, an extended protest letter to a dead king I couldn’t care less about.

But in the end, you won, Emma. I couldn’t escape you. Seriously, y’all, this book would not leave my head alone, for days, and I thought… many different and contradictory things about it. In the end, though, I kept coming back to one thought: the most terrifying thing I can think of is getting caught in Emma Bovary’s eyes. Did everyone read that profile about Dan Savage this weekend about infidelity and marriage? I did. Emma is the literary incarnation of Savage’s argument. Her eyes are on the cover of this book, and the more I looked at them, the more disturbed I got. Those eyes are the reason that marriage is so frightening, why ‘commitment issues’ exist. This is a novel about how reality can look just the same to you from one day to the next, but to your partner, it can have turned into a hell or a heaven, even if it is the same Tuesday routine as the last one. Emma’s gaze, how each time she fixes her eyes on some scheme of happiness and how those eyes transform everything they see. She shows how unstable marriage is, how thin the foundations are- resting on nothing but the words- “I love you.” Words that just need one more word to dissolve the entire thing. That’s it, you guys. One word and someone’s will to speak it is all that stands between a solid marriage and one that is over- no matter how much paperwork you sign, how many kids you have, houses you fill with furniture. You never really know what the person across from you is thinking. How do you really know what motivates someone? Are they with you because they have made a resolution to be? Are they there with you because the stars shine in your eyes? Are they perfect to you because they are about to leave? Marriage, for better or worse, no matter what people say, adds so many complications. It is the commitment that people twist and bend over and around in so many different contortions to try to make it work- because it is a marriage, because it means something. How difficult is it to trust that people are simply what they say they are? Charles is simple and straightforward and rather sweet- and Emma hates him for it. She smiles and smiles and smiles… and then cheats on him, bankrupts him, tries to prostitute herself and kills herself rather than spend another day with him.

This is the most anxiety inducing book I have ever read about marriage. It’s the 19th century where you have to make a vow for life that you can't get out of, not really, in order to test the idea that you might want to be with someone. If you're wrong, that's it. You've failed. It’s all-or-nothing. Emma is the incarnation of the expectations of the institution at the time- all-or-nothing. Madame Bovary is destroyed because she tries to put her all into Charles, then Rodolphe and then Leon, and none of them can withstand it. Each of them are good for different things, and only for a little while, and she can't accept it. That is not the ideal. She won't accept less than the ideal. You guys, she's nothing more than exactly what she is told is available to her- granted, she's after the best of what she's told is available: the ideal. But why do we hold that against her? As long as we live in a society where we’re told to strive after the ideal, to never give up, you will have people who destroy themselves and everyone around them to get it. Savage’s discussion of what the “ideal” means in real life is enlightening and pertinent here, I think. He talks about how you have to be willing to change a lot and make a huge effort to keep the deal of monogamy alive. Of course everyone has their limits, and in many marriages, the trade offs of one person’s limits for the others (I won’t do this, and you won’t do that- I won’t do that, but I will do this) end up making the deal of monogamy work. But you have to be honest about it, you have to be able to say things that you’ve never said out loud before. You have to admit that you won’t be happy unless you live a life where you have crystal knickknacks on your fireplace, and you get off from pies being thrown in your face. But it’s not that easy- Emma was on her deathbed, writhing in agony from eating arsenic, and she still couldn’t tell Charles what she wanted from him.

I can’t blame Emma, ultimately. It actually made me think, of all things, a bit about Planet of Slums. That book talks about the millions of people who have been born outside the system, in illegal settlements to parents who are illegal themselves, and who are not, in fact, ignored by the system. They never get into the system in the first place- a system that is not built to cope with the mind-blowing poverty that arises from its excrement. The system can’t acknowledge it and justify itself. At the risk of sounding like I think relatively-well-off white lady problems bear any resemblance to the horror of someone living on the outskirts of Kinshasa in a lean-to, Emma is just trying to get in to a society that can't acknowledge her and go on. She’s trying with all her might to buy into the fairy tales she’s been told (just like the revived, and growing belief in magic in some slums), and does whatever she has to do to get her hands on it, even if only for a little while. She saw that fairy tales are real (or so she thinks) at that ball that one time- she SAW it, mommy- and can’t handle the fact that they exist on this earth and she can’t be a part of it. And in case anyone finds her head-in-the-sand refusal to face the world overly childish or impossible to relate to: The endless line of irresponsible credit she takes out from the scam artist down the street in order to feed her fantasies about the way she believes her life should look has obvious immediate relevance to America in the pre-2008 financial crisis era. In some ways, the existential crisis Flaubert is trying to outline here: between a solidly practical, profit-and-advancement outlook on life and a sensibility that at least tries to aspire to something higher, even if it is unaffordable or impossible, is the distilled essence of the push and pull of American partisan politics. Monsieur Homais would have done very well on Wall Street. Emma can be read as being more American than French, really.

Emma is a true believer. She doesn’t just want attention from men, or shiny things. I didn’t really believe that until the part where she tries to renounce the whole world for fervent religious devotion. Failing making it into her fairy tale, she wants to escape where she is- to somewhere else, anywhere else. By the end, I felt like I was suffocating right along with her. Virginia Woolf said that the “present participle is the devil” . Emma adds the present place, the present time, the present person you are with. She really is willing to try anything to escape. On her deathbed, as she pleaded to die, my heart was racing along with hers and the whole finale read like a blockbuster last action scene with explosives and severed limbs flying. I didn’t enjoy the journey I had with her, but I had made it and lived in tiny spaces with her, spaces that got ever smaller as the book wound down. Every chapter there was less and less light until she was curled up in a ball in solitary confinement with no hope of escape. In the Count of Monte Cristo, we root for the hero to get thrown over the side of a cliff in a body bag because it is his only hope of escape. How could we do less for poor Emma? She deserves her chance to make it to the place she always hoped for- even if priests and businessmen argue whether she got there over her corpse. If she can’t be buried in ‘blessed’ ground, well, at that point the priest’s God is just another man telling her she has to stay in the woods with the witch and her oven rather than try to find the path home, like she was always taught to do.

Flaubert handles his prose deftly, precisely, and with a deceptively commonplace hand. He doesn’t try for smart metaphors and delicate similes, but rather has characters say what the mean in an effectively believable way that makes Emma a character who can impact the lives of real women. Parts of this novel are spine-tinglingly sordid, others wrench out your gut, most of it can be drearily, boringly, mind-numbingly quotidian, and every so often, a gem shines through that makes you turn around and look at someone you had thought you were done being interested in. In other words, it’s like last Wednesday. And the Tuesday before that. And today. And probably next Monday. The morning when you woke up vowing that today it was all going to be different, that afternoon when you just wanted to die, the evening when you forgot it all making dinner and laughing about that thing you saw on the internet.

Flaubert can’t get it all, or say it all right, but he knows that. In fact, he’s willing to tell his readers that. But he does it in such a way that you just want to punch him in the face !

“Whereas the truth is that fullness of soul can sometimes overflow in utter vapidity of language, for none of us can ever express the exact measure of his needs or his thoughts or his sorrows; and human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.”

[imaginetonyandbucky]

imagine tony being unpopular with superheroes – hello, former weapons mogul and a jerk in general – but he is somehow considered very attractive by supervillains, cause his snark and brains and just good looks. so tony's like what the hell, i might as well flirt with dr doom/magneto/loki while I beat their asses, and he does. what tony fails to notice is that his team is actually really attached to him, and his flirtings with the villains make a certain one-armed supersoldier really mad and sad.

One bad Idea After Another

Six months is what Tony had promised Ross; sixmonths of pretending to be a team again, so that the people of the world couldsee, and go back to trusting, maybe. And then Tony was fucking out of here. Hewas retiring, he was locking his house to every so-called Avenger on the planetand he was going to live out his life in his workshop with things that he couldprogram and shape and build and not get stabbed in the back by. (He totallywasn’t counting Ultron here, because his programming had been mostly flawless;the mind stone had fucked that up but good.)

Which was five months and twenty-nine dayslonger than he wanted to work as a team with the pack of liars, betrayers,hot-heads, murderers and idiots. But he’d done distasteful thingsbefore. He kept a paper-chain in the penthouse, and each day, he tore off alink and threw it away.

But that wasn’t now, and it wasn’t today, and…

“Hey, Erik,” Tony chirped, after Magneto hadpinned him to the building. Fighting someone who could control metal as someonewearing a metal suit was pretty stupid, admittedly. The only more stupid thingwas being an X-person who had metal running all through their bones. “Good tosee you again, gorgeous. Really, you have a wonderful skin care regime, becauseI swear, you don’t look a day over fifty.”

Running his mouth was really all he could do;Magneto could crush him inside his tin can, although for whatever reason, heoften didn’t. Tony wasn’t sure why, exactly. Magneto had never made hisfeelings unclear about how much less worthy humans were. Humans like Tony, whoweren’t experiments or mutants or aliens, but just simple ingenuity were onErik’s particular dislike list. Especially, as he said, homo sapiens andtheir guns.

Tony, as a leading weapons developer andmanufacturer for most of his entire adult life, was especially despised.

So, being a sticky-note smart ass was Tony’sonly option, because, of course, shutting up and minding his own business wouldhave been the wise thing to do, and Tony was never wise. Or capable of shuttingup.

“Oh, nice swing, Babe Ruth,” Tony quipped asMagneto used a semi-trailer to backhand Hulk about half a mile away. “Youforgot to point though, before you hit him. Really, Erik, you’ve been doing thesuper villain thing for a long time, you’re losing your edge with the wittyrepartee.”

“Tony, shut up,” Steve said in his earbud, andthat was just too much, because under no circumstances – and it was even inthe contract he’d had his lawyers draw up before he agreed to Ross’s demands,because, see, Steve, some of us are fucking capable of compromise – was Steveallowed to tell him what to do. Ever. Ever again.

“You know, what, Erik?” Tony said, glancing overagain. Magneto was playing pile the car on Steve, which really, Tony kindaapproved of. “I’m being really sincere this time. How do you look so good? Imean, you and Charles have been bashing it out for a while now and I never evensee you with a black eye. I have a black eye almost constantly.”

Magneto turned his attention to Tony, havingcleared the field of Avengers for the time being. “Do you ever shut up?”

“When someone’s dick is in my mouth, sure,” Tonysaid, winking. “It’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

Magneto didn’t even turn, just thrust an arm outbehind him and the Winter Soldier went flying backward, dragged by hisadamantium prosthetic. “Really?” Erik looked… intrigued, rather than disgusted.Not really the plan, but okay, Tony could roll with this. “I thought youpreferred women.”

“I prefer sex,” Tony said, easily enough. “Dick,pussy, whatever.” That was true and he was surprised that Erik didn’t know it.He thought everyone knew about his sex tapes, and Ty Stone had not been exactlyshy about talking out of class.

Erik held up one hand and star-fished hisfingers. Tony’s armor responded, brutally stretching him out, spread eagle. Hnnnnng,okay, well, that was… something else entirely. Magneto flew over (how did thateven work? Did the guy wear tap-shoes or something?) and hovered about sixinches away. He had brilliant blue eyes with a ring of steel gray around theedge, an oval face, and a great chin. His lips were a little thin for a reallygood kiss, but Tony’d made do before.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said, nodding slowly, giving hisbest inviting look. “You know you want to try it out, see if I’m as good as myrep.”

Erik slid his hand into Tony’s hair, the back ofthe helm retracting neatly into the collar and he bent forward.

Which was exactly when Spidey grabbed Magneto’shelmet with a wad of spider-goop and Wanda floated up behind Erik, undetected,to red-mist whammy Erik’s attractive ass into oblivion.

Tony barely managed to get the repulsors workingagain to not smash into the ground some ten stories below when Magneto’s powersuddenly released him.

Ha! One for the home team.

“So, how ‘bout next time, Captain,” Tonysnarked, “you just let me do what I do best and leave me the hell alone?”

Barnes was there, having dropped out of hiscreepy Winter Soldier routine and was lacing Magneto’s arms behind his backwith plastic cable while Erik was there and totally blissed out on whateverbrain-shaping delusions Wanda was feeding him. Jesus, that was fucking scary.Both of them. Wanda doing her weirding-way finger gymnastics as Erik’s eyes sparkledruby red, and Barnes staring at Tony with… disappointment? Anger? Tony had noidea, didn’t want to know, and the less he could manage to speak with Barnes,the better, as far as Tony was concerned, because Steve got all weirded outwhen they even looked at each other for too long and the tension was murder.

“And what would that be, exactly?” Steve asked.“Being a world-class slu –” And Steve’s voice cut off suddenly when Barnesthrew a rock at him. Accurately. From over half a block away. Nice aim.

“Shut up, Stevie,” Barnes’s voice came over thecoms, rough and low and somehow soothing. “Tony just saved all our collectiveasses by bein’ a fuckin’ good distraction.”

There was something vaguely amusing about Barnesinfantilizing the captain that way. There was nothing quite like having yourchildhood friend around to remember that you weren’t always a bad-ass. Tonyspared Barnes a quick grin and was shocked when Barnes smiled back. Tony’dnever seen that smile before, not outside of pictures, and certainly neverdirected at him. It was wide, genuine, showed quite a lot of white,perfect teeth, and competed with the sun for brilliance. Tony staggered back astep, not sure what that feeling was in his stomach, but it was… something.

“Huh,” Tony said. “Nice to be appreciated.”

Madam Hydra was unfairly hot, Tony thought. Andenormously tall. Even in the armor, Tony was about nose-level with herimpressive rack.

Also, she carried a whip as her weapon ofchoice. Which, while painful, was also kinda hot.

Green hair was a nice touch, as well as thegreen lipstick that made her mouth look both luscious and poisonous at the sametime.

Despite the fact that her whip was wrappedaround Tony’s throat – seriously, what was it with my neck that people findit a convenient hand-hold? Come on, really, pull my hair sometimes, too, that’sokay – she was not hurting him. In fact; she rubbed up against the armoras if it was turning her on. Maybe it was; she was, after all, straddling him,her skirt hiked way up around her powerful thighs.

“You should reconsider your stance, Mr. Stark,”Madam Hydra purred, her long fingers running down the side of his face. “Wewould be much more appreciative of your unique skill set as we rebuildHydra.”

Suddenly Barnes’s metal hand was wrapped aroundMadam Hydra’s throat and he lifted her bodily up, kicking and gasping weakly.Which was all good and well, except her whip was still around Tony’s neck, sothis dragged him up – he really, really hated it when the suit got powereddown in the middle of combat – by the neck.

“Come on, Red October,” Tony managed to gasp.“I’m all one for a little breath play, but this is getting ridiculous.”

Barnes stomped down on the whip, yanking it fromMadam Hydra’s grip, which was nice as far as the whole breathing thing went,but was a little less pleasant in that Tony was now on his knees, stuck atBarnes’s feet.

Falcon and Hawkeye rushed over to relieve theWinter Soldier of another Hydra baddie, with magnetic handcuffs and a fewsnarky remarks, pushing her off toward the armored prison car.

Leaving Tony still crawling on the ground infront of the Winter Soldier, which just seemed like eight kinds of bad plan toTony. But of course, no one else ever worried about how Tony was dealing withhis so-called teammates. That hadn’t been part of the agreement at all.

Barnes moved his foot and knelt down, puttinghimself on eye level. “Are you okay?” he asked, unwinding the whip from aroundTony’s throat and tipping back Tony’s chin with oddly gentle fingers to peer inTony’s eyes. “You got a little singed, there.”

“The choking wasn’t so bad,” Tony said, tryingto stagger to his feet and the armor was just heavy enough that he let Barneshelp him. “The electric current came as a bit of a shock, though.”

Barnes laughed, low, and shook his head, hisrich brown hair scattering around his face. “Always with the bad jokes,” hesaid. “You always play off gettin’ hurt like it’s nothin’?”

Tony got his fingers inside the collar of hisarmor and punched the emergency release, letting it fall around him. Crap; he’dforgotten that he’d been sleeping when the call came and he was, in fact,mostly naked under the suit. He’d grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from thedrawer before Friday had closed around him in her comforting embrace, otherwisehe’d be stark naked. Ha ha.

“Jesus, Tony,�� Barnes said, and for just amoment, Tony thought there was disgust there, for being undressed in public,for being an old man, but instead, Tony caught Barnes’s eyes, flickering frombruise to bruise, the needle-marks from the suit’s pharmaceutical package thatlet him take a licking and keep on ticking not even faded. “Doesn’t anyone evertake care of you?”

“Friday does,” Tony said, flatly, trying to pullaway.

“Come on, doll,” Barnes said. “Let’s get youchecked out before you head back home, yeah?” And Barnes’s arm was locked loosearound Tony’s bicep, pulling him gently toward the medical van. Which, normally,Tony wouldn’t have accepted – he hated medical care with an unholy passion –but Barnes didn’t leave his side the entire time, talking and telling storiesand getting Tony involved in an analysis of Star Wars physics long enough forthe medics to wrap up his sprained wrist, stitch closed a laceration in hiscalf, and plaster an icepack over his eye.

Barnes wrapped Tony up in a blanket and rodewith him in the car back to the Tower. And God, Tony was tired. Maybe Barneswas lulling him into some sort of false sense of security, or something, but atthe present moment, Tony wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just sigh softly and letBarnes kill him, if he was so inclined. It might hurt less.

Instead, Barnes walked him into the penthouse,helped him lay down on the bed, and as Tony was drifting away into sleep, hethought – probably he was dreaming already – that Barnes kissed him on theforehead. “Get some sleep, Tony. I’ll stand guard.”

The club had been a good idea, Tony thought. Heleaned against the rail at the VIP lounge and watched the lights flare,listened the pulse and pound of the music, the taste of top-shelf on histongue. There were some pretty people in the lounge with him, no one whose namehe knew, or cared to know, and surely someone would be interested in a littlenudge and whisper later in the night. He needed that, needed it so bad. Thealcohol was good, but some no-strings sex was just what the doctor ordered.

Particularly as far away from his fuckingteammates as he could get.

Being alone in a crowd while in the club was atleast familiar and safe. No one in the club scene had ever wanted anything fromhim that he couldn’t provide; a quick lay, a bit of cash, a good time, a smoothdrink.

His gaze traced the crowd, a seething mass ofbodies, pressed together obscenely, slick with sweat. There was no room toreally dance, just sort of find a partner, whatever gender, and grind upagainst them. Except then the floor cleared a little, to make way.

Hot moves comin’ through, the general moodseemed to say.

Tony’s eyes widened fractionally. He’d heardthat James Barnes could dance – Natasha liked to talk about their days at theRed Room together if you got a few glasses of red wine into her – but Tony hadthought it was the ballet, or maybe the Lindy or something like that. Butapparently Barnes knew club moves and music-video type dancing, too. Or someonehad been taking pole-dancing classes, what did Tony know? It’s not like histeammates talked to him anymore.

Tony threw back his drink and the girl at hisside laughed and poured him another. He almost wanted to leave, before hestarted thinking of Barnes as a human being and not just… except he couldn’tlook away. There was something sweet and sinister about the way the man danced,calling partners to him with a quick twitch of his fingers, spinning them intohis dance, then weaving them right back out. He wasn’t there with anyone, hewas there as a predator, chasing the prey that lurked in the clubs, drawingthem in, finding them lacking.

No one could match him, not even for a moment,and Tony found himself more, and more, drawn to the heated sensuality of theman, the way his hips moved, the way his legs seemed to go on forever, encasedin black leather pants, the way his shirt was rucked up, baring a strip of hisbelly and back.

Tony let his jacket fall to the floor and headedout to the dance floor. He tapped his watch, and Friday muttered an unheardcomplaint in his ear, something something drinking, something something sideeffects, but Tony wasn’t listening. He wasn’t a bad dancer himself, even if hewas getting older, and he needed the jolt of his mix-drugs cocktail for some ofhis fancier moves, especially given that he was still a little sore from thatlast fight.

If he was going to make some sort of claim, somesort of impression, he needed every advantage he could get.

At first, Barnes wasn’t even looking, didn’teven notice who’d moved into his dance space, and then, with that quick flashof lighting-up-the-room smile, Barnes had taken Tony into his arms and theymoved as one. It was slick and heated and easy and the best damn thing that hadhappened to Tony in a long time. It was bliss.

At least that was what he thought, right upuntil Barnes nudged him back into the VIP lounge and started kissing him on thesofa. “Been watchin’ you all night,” Barnes said, his voice a low, husky growlthat went straight from Tony’s ears to his groin in a bolt of wanting. Despiteall the booze and the drugs and the girls and the men, there was somethingabout that moment that was utterly sacred. Tony touched Barnes’s face with agentle hand, wondering and confused and wanting and terrified all at the sametime.

Barnes’s cold metal hand slid under Tony’sshirt, touching and tugging at the fabric.

And then he wasn’t there at all.

Thor had taken a great double-handful ofBarnes’s hair and dragged him backward, leaving a cold hollow where the supersoldier’s warm body had been only moments before.

“What the hell?”

Thor shook Barnes like he was a misbehavingkitten and the man dangling from Thor’s godly grip shimmered, shuddered, andsuddenly –

“Oh my fucking Christ,” Tony said,scrambling backward away from Loki.

“Brother,” Loki said, practically purring, “I don’tknow what you’re all upset about. I wasn’t going to hurt him. I was giving himexactly what he wanted.”

“In such a manner that would badly damage thetrust we have worked hard to restore,” Thor said, his voice booming.

“Trust?” Loki scoffed and twisted, which causedThor to curse and drop the trickster god to the floor, where Loki gazed at hisbrother with that signature look of mixed longing and hatred. “There’s notrust. Your precious midgardians have wounded and betrayed each other to suchan extent that you have almost lost the one who started it all. I only wishedto give him ease.”

Tony got up, recovered his coat and straightenedhis tie with some semblance of recovered dignity. “Next time you want a pieceof midgardian ass, Loki,” Tony said, snarling, “come to me as yourself andwe’ll talk. But don’t pretend to be something you’re not.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, Iron Man,” Lokisaid, his voice light and mocking, “what it is to pretend to be somethingyou’re not. But I know the truth; I was just a mirror for what you trulydesire.”

Tony didn’t look back. He didn’t want to seeLoki’s mockery. He didn’t want to see Thor’s sympathy.

And he sure as hell didn’t want to be tempted bywhat Loki was promising.

This was getting old. It was getting old, it wasgetting boring and it was getting fucking predictable.

Tony didn’t bother to struggle in Doom’s grip;he knew exactly where this was going, and he was so bored with it, he justwanted it over with.

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the end,” Tony said.“Captain America kills you, your death kills me, everyone else lives happilyever after, the end.”

Doom’s hand didn’t move; he kept his fingertipspressed to Tony’s chest. The suit was slagged, only Doom’s power kept it frombroiling Tony alive. If Doom died, he’d stop holding the heat at bay and therewas nothing Tony could do.

But Steve had Doom at a disadvantage. Doom’sarmor was broken, had been in the long struggle, and the back of his neck wasexposed. Steve was right behind him, with the shield. One move, Doom’s spinalcolumn would snap and then Tony would die in the miniature volcano that hissuit had become.

Well, that’s what happened when you fuckedaround with the fabric of space-time. You got really weird goddamn results.

“Remove yourself from Doom’s presence,” Doomdemanded, not looking at Steve. “Or this man will die.”

“That’s not much of a threat, Man in the IronMask,” Tony said, looking past Victor Von Doom’s shoulder at Steve. “What’s thelife of one man, one soldier? Hmm?”

Steve winced at that, hesitating.

“Just do it, Captain,” Tony said. God he wastired. Exhausted. “Finish it. We all know everything’ll go smoother, if it’sjust you at the helm. I’ll get a tragic, heroic ending. S’what I always wanted,you know that.”

“Tony –”

Tony stopped listening. Steve had lost his rightto call Tony by his name; they weren’t friends. They’d proven that. “Just geton with it, Lone Ranger,” he said to Doom. “Let me go.”

“That isn’t what Doom wants.” And Doom stood up,one hand around Tony’s shoulders and the other scooping him up so he was in agoddamn bridal carry, and that was just fucking fantastic. Doom ignored Steve,utterly and completely, walking away as if Steve wasn’t even there at all. Theslits of Doom’s mask showed brilliant brown eyes, glittering with malice and…desire? Really? Good lord, what was it with the fucking bad guys recently thatthey were all getting these stupid little crushes?

“So, what’s the plan?” Tony couldn’t move, hishalf-melted armor still held him in place. “I mean, you do have a plan, don’tyou, Iron Maiden?”

“Doom pities you, Iron Man,” Doom said, hollowand booming. “So betrayed. So tragic. So unappreciated. Doom wishes to show youthat there are other options.”

“You think my tragic backstory is earning mevillain points?” Tony asked. “Is that what all this is about? All the badguysin the world are trying to recruit me?”

“You would be a worthy ally,” Doom intoned. “Andif not, life in Latveria can be your retirement.”

“That was almost romantic,” Tony said. “Goodtry, I appreciate it. Can I get down now, because really, I’m just not feelingit, here.”

“You do not want down,” Doom said, carrying Tonyonto his fucking Doomship, or whatever the hell he was calling it these days.

“You’re telling me what I want, now?” Tonyrolled his eyes, really that was a bit much. Everyone acted like they knew whatTony wanted.

“Everyone wants the same thing,” Doom said,reasonably. “Even Doom. A home, appreciation. Family. To rule the world.”

Tony would have shrugged, but that just wasn’tpossible. “Too much like work. I think you’ll find I’m a really highmaintenance boyfriend. You’d be better off picking someone who’ll be a betterhelp partner for you.”

The gangplank closed behind them and Doomgestured again, letting his powers flow through Tony like riverwater – dirty,choking, ugly, and fucking cold. On the plus side, also put the fire out in thesuit. Which was still busted all to hell and back, but at least Tony wasn’t indanger any longer from a really radical tan.

Doom helped him with the armor, and Tony foundhimself trailing along behind like a lost puppy while Victor did hisevil-seduction-plot which was nicer than Tony had expected. There was food –and carefully selected at that. Someone had been studying his preferences –and new clothes (nice, a Desmond Merrion, and that was a little creepy, becausethose were very exacting measurements and it fit perfectly. Damn!) – and aroom aboard the Doomship. A lot nicer than Tony had been expecting.

Sure, okay.

Doom removed his own armor, the flowing greencloak folded neatly over a chair. He peeled out of the metal plates andgreaves, leaving them behind. Victor strode behind the dressing screen inTony’s doomroom and came out wearing his own suit, just as nice, as tailored,as the one he’d had ready for Tony. With a quick flick of his hand, Doom tookhis mask off and tossed it aside.

Wow. Okay. That… that Tony was not expecting.

“Well, rumor isn’t true, I guess,” Tony said,not quite able to look away. Victor Von Doom was gorgeous. Breath-takinglybeautiful, with a wave of silver hair that spilled into his face and deep browneyes that watched everything Tony did from under a frame of dark lashes. A tinyscar, just under his eye, didn’t mar Doom’s appearance at all, just sort ofadded to the rugged appeal.

Victor smiled, a quick, sly tip of his lips.“You, of all people, should know better,” he said. “We’re not what we seem tobe, behind our masks.” He snagged a cherry tomato off the tray of food that hadbeen presented for Tony’s supper.

“Yeah, still think I gotta pass,” Tony said. Hebrushed by Doom toward the exit of the Doomship – he didn’t really have aplan, but he always worked best when he improvised.

Doom reached out, snagged his wrist in a gripthat wasn’t rough, just enough to say Wait, stop.

“Give Doom – give me, a chance,” Doom said, andhe drew Tony in, kissed the back of Tony’s neck, which sent shivers up Tony’sspine and urged a gasp from his lips.

Oh, what the hell, why not? Tony wasn’t going toget what he wanted, he might as well take the next best thing. He turned, letthe movement draw them closer. Victor’s mouth came down on his, warm and sweetand gentle, nothing like the sort of kiss Tony was expecting.

And, unfortunately, quite honestly, nothing likewhat he wanted, either.

Tony wanted a lover who would pull his hair andbite his neck. A lover who wouldn’t give, gentle and go softly into thatgoodnight. He wanted a demanding, ravenous, hungry sort, who’d never let Tonyrest, who’d wrench screams from his throat as he rode through Tony’s pleasure,who’d want and need and take…

I was just a mirror for what you truly desire…

Yeah, okay, subconscious, I get it already. Tony sighed, inward. Maybe that was why all the villains weretrying to pick him up; Tony was giving off “I want a bad boy” vibes likenobody’s business.

The ship rocked, suddenly. A strident blast ofalarm bells sounded, the lights flashed red.

“Always, with the vexations!” Doom broke off thekiss and stormed off to wherever the pilot’s chair was, presumably to makemincemeat out of whoever was firing at them.

“Christ,” a familiar voice said, startling Tonyso badly that he knocked the salad plate right off the table. “What is it withyou?” Barnes pushed open the closet door and stepped into the room. “Everyonejust wants to take a bite out of you, don’t they?”

“Is this a rescue?” Tony rolled his eyes.“Because I’m not sure I need to be rescued right now.”

“Stop bein’ contrary,” Barnes said, “an’ let’sget the fuck off this boat before Falcon an’ Thor bring it down.”

“Why would they do that?” Tony asked. “Doom wasleaving.”

“Because you’re part of the fuckin’ team,”Barnes said. “We ain’t leavin’ you behind, and we ain’t lettin’ you getkidnapped by the worst fuckin’ guy in the world, doll, even if he does seemmore like the wine an’ dine type.”

“It’s not doing anything for me,” Tony admitted,looking around the lushly appointed room. “Much as I hate to admit it, so ifyou’re rescuing, go right ahead, don’t let me stop you.”

Barnes shoved a chute-pack at Tony, then led himthrough a maze of corridors to an outer hull wall. “Come on, doll,” he said,wrapping one arm around Tony’s waist. “I’mma blow this wall out, then we jump.”

“Together?”

“There’s only one chute, so, yeah,” Barnes said.He drew a hand-cannon from his holster and pointed it at the wall.

And because it was Tony, he couldn’t stop hissmart mouth from running, even at the very worst opportunities. “What, no kissfor luck?”

Barnes whirled, looking straight into Tony’seyes; shock, want, desire, confusion warred in Barnes’s steel-gray eyes. “‘Boutfuckin’ time,” he said, grabbed Tony’s jaw and kissed him.

And this?

This was a kiss. No sweet, tentative explorationor gentle nudges, but a soul-searing, leave ashes behind experience. Barnesravaged Tony’s mouth, took possession, left no survivors. Everything, everyoneelse was burned in his wake. His lips were fast, rough, uncompromising and Tonyfelt the kiss all the way down to his toes. It consumed him, destroyed him,made him want more, and made him want nothing else, ever. It was hot,slick tongue and brilliant, talented lips and the scrape of teeth just on theedge of pain, and yet, it was still more than that. A crescendo wave offeelings and needs and desires, of wants and necessity. It was thirst that nowater would slake, hunger that no food would ease. It was everything.

Barnes tore himself away from the kiss,reluctance in every muscle in his body, written on every line in his face.

“Wow,” Tony said. “What was that?”

“A damn fine start,” Barnes said. He turned,shot the wall, then kicked it open. He wrapped his arms tight around Tony.“Jump, already, doll, time’s wastin’.”

Tony nodded, tucked his face against Barnes’sthroat, and leapt.

There were a lot of things that Tony hadexpected, in his life. And a number of things that had taken him completely bysurprise.

Being peeled out of a twenty-thousand dollarsuit and fucked sideways into the ground by a very relieved and eager JamesBarnes had never been on the list at all, but Tony would take it.

“So, what is this?” Tony asked, as they werecurled up under the parachute silk. “Another one of my very bad ideas?”

James nuzzled at Tony’s throat, softer now thatthe edge was off, but still eager, still wanting. Tony didn’t want to admitjust how attractive he found that.

“It’s redemption,” James said, finally.“Darkness in me calls to th’ darkness in you. Maybe,” he linked their fingerstogether, “maybe we c’n find the light together.”

What had Steve said, that one time? If welose, we’ll lose together.

And maybe that had been the wrong idea, allalong. Maybe what they needed to do was win. Together.

“Together?” Tony squeezed James’s hand, tippedhis head back again to accept James’s eager kiss.

“Always.”

Always. Always sounded nice. Tony thought hecould get with that particular idea. And then he couldn’t think of anythingelse at all, except what James’s hands were doing. And his mouth. And other….

Together. Always.

Author Note: http://rdjlock.tumblr.com/post/154269133774/taste-you-doomtony-fanart-anad

I admit that I took this prompt SPECIFICALLY because I saw this gorgeous fucking artwork a few days beforehand and I wanted to capture the moment. I hope @rdjlock likes the tribute to this piece of work, because man, I did not ship it before, but WOW…

As always, you can follow me on @tisfan and A03 for more winteriron and other Marvel fics and pics