#she has single handedly made me break free of the curse of never drawing the same character twice

[feything-n-frothing]

Umitober day 1: Favorite Character

[geniejackman]

Harry Potter: What the Movies Got Right

Because the movies get a lot of shit for the ways that they differ from the books, here is a way too overly-detailed list of moments from the Harry Potter films which IN MY OPINION improve upon the source material.

Sorcerer’s Stone:

The Norbert Storyline: Cutting out the whole midnight hand-off of Norbert to Charlie’s friends story-line was a good move. It slowed down the plot in the book, and come on, how were Charlie’s friends able to sneak into Hogwarts in the first place? There are literally entire chapters of people trying to figure out ways around the schools security.

 Chamber of Secrets:

Nothing to add, the book and movie are almost entirely one and the same (Sure wish they’d followed through with this on some of the other movies. Lookin at you Half-Blood Prince).

-ONE THING THOUGH; at the end when Harry tricks Lucius Malfoy into freeing Dobby and you can hear him start to cast ‘Avada Kedavra’ at Harry. It’s a small and HILARIOUS addition. Like, really Lucius? The killing curse? At this little twelve-year-old, right in front of Dumbledore’s office, in broad day-light, over literally nothing? I heard somewhere that this was because Jason Isaacs thought he should say some spell but nothing was scripted, and Avada Kedavra was the only one he could think of. But it’s just really funny to think about Lucius legit about to murder a kid in public over losing his house-elf.

 Prisoner of Azkaban:

-Aunt Marge’s Big Mistake: I love that Marge blows up and floats out of the house, rather than just bouncing off the walls like in the book. Hysterical!

-Lupin scenes: Lupin talking about how Lilly “was there for me at a time when no one else was” and how she had a gift for finding beauty in people “even and most importantly when that person could not see it in themselves”… just… fucking David Thewlis man. Actually, all the Harry & Lupin conversations in the movie have this sweet parental energy that was mostly there in the books, it just feels so much more potent here thanks do Dan & David’s incredible chemistry.

-Harry’s Patronus Lessons: the powerful memory that finally gets him to cast the spell is thinking about his parents talking with him. Kind of an understated change from the books, but it helps to underscore that the memory doesn’t need to be big or even all that happy, just emotionally poignant.

 -“WHY DON’T YOU RUN ALONG AND PLAY WITH YOUR CHEMISTY SET?!?!?!?”

-Snape protects the kids: Even though Snape was being a dick the entire time in the Shrieking Shack, he still acts as a HUMAN FUCKING SHIELD between the kids and Wolf Lupin and even takes a blow to the chest while protecting them. Book Snape was unconscious the whole time. Also, Movie Snape is so much more sympathetic than Book Snape, fight me. More on this down the line.

 Goblet of Fire:

-Really scraping the bottom of the barrel here, because there ain’t much.

-David Tenant is fun as hell as Barty Crouch Jr: I mean, there isn’t much fleshed out motivation in the character in the movie besides being bat-shit-fucking-crazy, but hey, it’s fun to watch! Also, I love the added detail (which I believe was improvised by Tenant) of Jr’s lip twitch and how this gives him away when he’s pretending to be Moody in front of Crouch Sr.  

-Cedric’s bravery: It’s a very small thing, but in the book when Cedric and Harry realize something’s off in the graveyard, they don’t really react much, or even say anything. When Harry’s scar stars burning, my man Cedric has enough presence of mind to draw his wand, ask Harry what’s wrong, takes a defensive stance, and shouts “Who are you? What do you want?” bravely to an approaching Pettigrew. Guy spends his last few moments being an absolute champ. Hollywood did you wrong Robert Pat.

 Order of the Pheonix:

-The DA training sequences: They’re wonderful and full of teen-whimsiness and the score makes me happy. Seriously, go listen to the ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ track, it’ll make your day! https://youtu.be/fZane0CwAGg

Harry’s cheesy one liner which somehow still manages to be great: “Every great wizard has started out as nothing more than what we are now, students. If they can do it, why not us?”

-Neville’s Character growth: “We’re gonna make them proud Neville. That’s a promise.” Man, I really wish there had been scenes of Harry and Neville talking about their families in the books. There’s so much that they share in terms of past traumas. I like that they bring it up in the film, even if it’s a very quick scene.  

-Fred and George: It’s been said before, but the scene with Fred and George comforting a young student who’s had the Umbridge hand-slicing treatment is UNPRECEDENTED and I LOVE it. This helps show them as more than just loveable jokesters.

-“Neville Longbottom is it? How’s mum and dad” “Better, now that they’re about to be avenged!” FOUR FOR YOU NEVILLE LONBOTTOM, YOU GO NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!

-Possession: I’m gonna be honest, this movie is my next-to-least-favorite of the adaptations. I’d be prepared to write it off as a bad movie altogether if it weren’t for the way they decide to end with the Ministry battle: In the book, Voldemort finishes dueling Dumbledore and starts possessing Harry, who tells Dumbledore to kill him. Possessed Harry says: “Kill me Dumbledore, death is nothing compared to this. Kill me. And I’ll see Sirius again.” This moment is really quick, and it’s not really made clear until the next book that Harry’s love and grief in this moment is what drove Voldemort out. In the movie, the scene gets more time and attention and shows Voldemort possessing Harry, forcing him to remember his worst memories of losing people he loves. For anyone who’s ever suffered from depression or anxiety, the way these horrible memories overwhelm Harry is shockingly familiar. But then, Ron, Hermione and the others come running in. The sight of them makes Harry remember all of the best moments with his friends: “You’re the weak one. And you’ll never know love, or friendship. And I feel sorry for you.” HOLY HELL. All the tears. Just all of them. I fuckin love this moment. Congrats Possession scene, you single-handedly saved this movie for me.

Half-Blood Prince:

Oooooh boy. Full disclosure, I kind of hate this movie. It’s just… it’s not ABOUT anything. Like, SO much was changed in Order of the Pheonix to make it tonally different from the book, AND YET: Sirius’s line in the OOTP film about how “we all have light and dark inside of us” is so cliched and not from the book at all, but it PAYS OFF and shapes the theme of the movie at the end when Dumbledore reinforces “It’s not how you are alike. It’s how you are not.” So yeah, not really from the book, but it’s at least trying to have a theme. HBP the movie is a mess. Instead of having a central theme, the main idea for the movie appears to be: “stuff is happening”.

-Despite this, there were one or two instances of “stuff is happening” which the film added that built positively on the book. One of those is, hear me out, the Burrow attack. HBP the book is pretty void of any action until the very end, and this addition (nonsensical as it is. Did they ever explain how the Death Eaters were able to break through the Ministry’s protective charms to get to the Burrow?) gives us some pretty cool visuals and some much needed tension. Too bad it’s totally meaningless as we see in the first few minutes of Deathly Hallows Part 1 that the Weasley’s have completely rebuilt the Burrow. Cause, ya know, magic.

-Draco on the Hogwarts Express: “Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to come back for another year.” HA! Oh the irony.

In general, the characterization of Draco is so much more engaging here than in the book. The fact that the movies are less exclusively only what Harry thinks and sees gives us opportunities to see more into other characters perspectives. Draco’s experiments in the Room of Requirement really add a lot to the characters emotional struggle. And boy howdy does Tom act the HELL out of the bathroom cry scene. Really makes you wish they’d followed through on that redemption arc in DH part 2 (more on that later).

-Last but not least; Slughorn and the Lilly fishbowl. HOLY SHIT is this scene powerful. Not only is it an incredibly touching story, but we get to see the parental and emotional aspects of Slughorn’s ‘collecting’ of promising students over the years. And the sadness of Slughorn’s unfinished sentence; “the day the bowl was empty… was the day that your mother….” Just, damn. I both love and hate this moment, because it adds something positive to HBP and that makes me mad because I guess I can’t totally hate it now.

 Deathly Hallows Part 1

-Opening montage with Hermione Obliviating her parents. In the book, Hermione tells the boys about how she did this in order to make them see how much she’s already sacrificed to their cause. But damn. SEEING it really makes it even more devastating.

-Hedwig’s Death. Damn, just typing those words hurt my heart. I really liked that Harry lets her fly free at the beginning, only to have her come back during the sky battle to save Harry. It’s sad in the book having her die in her cage, but they really amped up the cry factor for the movie by having her sacrifice herself.

-“Hey losers! He isn’t here.” Goddamnit, Neville just keeps wracking up those ‘Biggest Badass’ and ‘Best Character Growth’ points. It’s great foreshadowing for what’s to come with his hero moment in the Final Battle.

-Harry and Hermione’s dance. I know some people have called this scene unnecessary and awkward, but here me out. The dancing itself is, in my opinion, EXACTLY how awkward fools like Harry and Hermione would dance, and the moments where they slowly change from depressed and dead-eyed to light-hearted and goofy, it shows you that despite all the hardships they’ve gone through, they’re just kids. A little awkward, a little uncertain, but still able to enjoy the small things in life. Also, the little moment where they linger for a moment all serious after the dance always played to me like “hey, you know how Ron just stormed out after accusing us of having a thing? Maybe there’s a possibility that we actually do… nah.” It’s a nice little moment.

-Scabier’s creeper moments with Hermione. That scene in the forest when she’s put up the enchantments so they can’t see her, but he can smell her. It’s a great acting moment between Emma and the dude playing Scabier (even if this should have been Greyback).

-Draco at Malfoy Manor. Small but touching scene; when Draco is brought in to make sure the Death Eaters have caught Harry, he does the same thing in the book where he claims he “can’t be sure”. In the book, Draco says this while refusing to look Harry in the eye. In the movie, he looks Harry dead in the face and looks scared to death while asking “What’s wrong with his face?” Just… the concern and fear dripping off of him is DELICIOUS. (AGAIN WITH THE REDEMPTION ARC!!! THE POTENTIAL WAS THERE WARNER BROTHERS!!!!!)

-Hermione Tortured. Not really all that much was changed for this scene, but Bellatrix carving ‘mudblood’ into Hermione’s arm and the way it evoked Holocaust concentration camp victims was a stroke of genius.

-Dobby at Malfoy Manor. Way to give this ‘lil dude a moment to shine! Specifically; “of course I can, I’m an elf!” “Dobby never meant to kill anyone. Dobby only meant to mame or seriously injure!” And then… the death scene. I love that in the movie, Dobby gets a longer farewell. “Such a beautiful place… to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friend. Harry Potter.” UGH! At least give me some warning before you rip my heart out.

 Deathly Hallows Part 2

-Snape vs. McGonagall; I’m torn, because I love the scene in the book where Harry defends McGonagall against the Carrows leading into the scene where she confronts Snape, but I also really love this big dramatic scene in the Great Hall with the “How dare you stand where he stood?” and McGonagall dueling Snape. Alan’s expression as Maggie steps up is PRICELESS.

-Harry and Malfoy in the Room or Requirement; “Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me.” Yeah Warner Brothers, why didn’t he tell her? Gonna maybe follow through with this redemption-arc you seem to be building up? No?? OKAY THEN!!!

-Snape’s death scene. Changing the setting was a stroke of genius. This scene is wonderfully done and we all know it.

-The Prince’s Tale. Okay, I feel like I’m going to take some flak for this. At first, I wasn’t thrilled with how much was cut out of Snape’s flashbacks concerning his friendship with Lilly and their falling out. But when you really think about it, they cut out all of the really gross stuff. For instance, it’s never implied that he enjoys bullying people for fun, he doesn’t call her a mudblood, he isn’t shown being toxic towards Lilly and jealous of James, never has the moment where he asks Voldemort to kill Harry & James and leave Lilly for him, and in general is WAY less problematic than in the books. This might be an instance of a ‘less is more’ win in favor of the film. I know, I’m as shocked as you are.

-Malfoy’s Redemption: So this might be confusing for some folks since this wasn’t in the final cut, but here’s a link for what they originally had in mind for Draco’s redemption arc: https://youtu.be/hS5Z2YbyePg

I am SO MAD that this was left out of the final cut, since it’s so obviously built up in part 1. Also, it would have been a HUGE improvement on the source material since Draco effectively has NO character growth there. This moment, where he makes a huge stand by yelling “POTTER” (also, GREAT inverse from the way we’ve become accustomed to hearing Draco sneer at Harry by invoking his surname over the years), throws him the wand, and runs back to join the fray, is a great addition to the series. I really wish the filmmakers had stuck with this plan.

 Incredibly long ranting list over.

[shadow-emerald-gold]

My Heart (Michael Langdon x Reader)

I’m just going to slip right in and leave this here. Nothing like some good Antichrist in the morning to go with your coffee- especially a dramatic icon like Michael. 

This takes place during the early weeks of the apocalypse where Michael is feeling less than fulfilled about his achievement. So, he decides to talk to his father in an attempt to gain answers about how he feels.

Being the child of Satan sounds like a vague plot device that horror movies and books have no issue exploiting. 

However, it was reality for a young man named Michael Langdon who had successfully brought about the destruction of the world without an instruction manual. Everything had so perfectly fallen into place that it felt too much like a daydream to the son of Satan. It was a wonderful feeling to have single-handedly destroy the very empire of man. People either bowed before him, begged before him or died before him and it was all at the flick of his hands. Michael Langdon was the master of his own destiny and that played on repeat in his head for weeks until it began to wear off…

The Sanctuary was a terribly boring place in Michael’s opinion. He watched his father’s followers shuffle about the halls, preparing for the new world governed by the Antichrist’s plans, all without acknowledging that he was there. The young man had received no new commands from his father nor was there really a need to rush. The world had ended. Big whoop. What now? Michael had to wait for the dust to settle so he could start toying with humanity again, but it was torture to be patient. At times, he would sit in his room and watch the fire as his slender fingers weaved through his longer hair. Ms Mead had suggested reading a book, so he read every one in the small library. He even read over the business files that had been kept for future reference. The Antichrist practiced his power, often exerting it over the servant staff, but that soon grew tiresome when he realised that there was no rival to challenge him. It also frightened away the maids from cleaning his quarters.

It was his birthday when the deafening silence that was hollowing out his bones finally broke him. Michael snapped as easily as a twig as a voice in the back of his mind simply whispered,‘I’m lonely.’

How pitiful, he thought immediately after, the destroyer of man is lonely.

He did not argue however, his heart aching as if it were being clenched between two hands. What was the point of denying it? Only the fire will ever know his true feelings that were locked away in some childish prison tucked nicely behind all of his memories.

“You look more miserable each and every day,” Mead chuckled from the threshold of the door, “what ever happened to that perky son of Satan?”

He waved her comment off, mumbling something under his breath before turning to her. She held a black box that was tied up professionally with red ribbon. It was as if she had managed to find a retail store after the whole apocalypse that was still open. Michael smiled slightly as she came closer and placed it down on the coffee table before him.

“Happy Birthday, Michael.”

The box was opened in seconds and in it was a striking, deep red coat that was weaved with the embers of Hell. Soft to the touch and so richly designed, the Antichrist held it up before slipping it on.

“Perfect,” Mead beamed, adjusting the shoulders, “do you like it?”

“I love it,” he replied keenly.

“Hopefully this perk you up a bit. The others are getting a tad worried that you might be conspiring against them.”

Michael laughed quietly, “always.”

She left him after that, declaring that they will have a bountiful feast prepared in celebration, but he only slumped back into his seat- now feeling marginally more beautiful than he did before. It sure would be nice to have someone else compliment him for once. He tried forcing that onto one of the maids, only asking for her opinion on a new shirt, but it ended up with her broken body at the bottom of the stairs. Before you assume anything, it was not his fault this time. She panicked after thinking that she had offended that Antichrist and tried to run away before slipping and falling down the stairs in the most horrifying yet entertaining way he had ever witnessed. It was borderline comical until she did not move.

He felt the velvet of the coat and grumbled at the memory. Everyone was scared of him. Nobody wanted to talk to him unless they absolutely had to. It was always like that since day fucking one. He could feel his blood boil and before he could think otherwise, he was stomping down the hallway, fists clenching and teeth grating. He was going to speak to his father whether the parent wanted that or not. Passing by people, almost like a shadow, Michael instructed one of the servants to alert Ms Mead that he will be in the Ritual Room and no one is to enter until he comes out.  

He undressed rapidly, throwing his clothes onto the ground in frustration as the candles came to life around him. They dwindled in his presence for they knew who he was as flickering shadows creeped up the unnaturally smooth walls. He was cursing in Latin now, stepping into the circle as he drew the blade across his flesh and drawing blood. His emotions, the overwhelming hollowness in his mind, dulled the pain to the point where it was merely a faint throbbing- a distant thought to the profanities in his head. His voice died into a whisper, words begging for his father descending into Hell as Michael began to lose himself, giving himself entirely to the moment- his power oozing with the blood that he smeared into a pentagram. Strangely, it was a beautiful sight to see a devil crafted as an angel draw himself into the darker dreams of forbidden knowledge. The humming yellow light of the candles, a choir of tiny demons, singing to his rule over the mortal world. It was something he had felt many times in this past but this time it didn’t matter. Nothing did but only the attention of his father. He received it.

Shuddering, Michael opened his eyes in the world of eternal punishment, the candles becoming an inferno that blazed upwards towards the Heavens. Panting, his eyes traced the outline of his father amongst the smoke, grinning and standing; taking no note of his nude vulnerability. Despite being painted in blood and endorphins running high, he was proud of himself for keeping a calm composure.

“Long time no see, father.”

There was no reply as he felt the heat run across his skin, a warning perhaps for his cocky attitude.

“I have done what you asked of me. Humanity is on the brink extinction and the world itself has ended. Are you pleased?”

“You have not come here seeking my praise,” a low rumble echoed through what Michael could only describe as a cave, one that shook the walls, “you come seeking release…”

The son swallowed, his marble smile cracking and stepped back.

“Is that too much to ask from you? I have done everything you have asked of me and yet you leave me with nothing. It was I who destroyed the world! It was I who brought about the Apocalypse and yet I feel as empty as Heaven is. Nothing but a wonderful idea that is never reached. Is it not my right to be as fulfilled as you are?” Michael screamed, his voice breaking as tears rolled down his cheeks.

There was nothing but the roaring flames and his laboured breath- sweat dripping.

“You do not even know what you want.”

The Antichrist dropped to his knees, not caring for how the rocky ground scraped his skin.

“I know exactly what I want. I want… I want… I want to…”

How he wanted to say it so badly. How he needed to say it. Release all of those sentiments he had locked away so long ago. He combatted with his memories of the past, them wanting nothing more than to keep those emotions caged and yet another part of him was desperately pulling at the bars to free them. His tongue was twisting in his mouth as he shuddered; Michael was tearing himself apart at the seams, undoing all of Satan’s handiwork in a matter of seconds. His pride disintegrated as his mind shattered into ruins.

“You do not wish to admit what your body and mind craves. Oddly selfless coming from the spawn of my own being. However, you have done well.”

Then there was only the grey smoke as the fires screamed into nothing, their embers were all that was left. The man was still shuddering, crying into his hands as his voice gave up trying to speak his pain. All that he could do was choke on pent up rage, remorse, regret and melancholy. Once more, Satan had vanished without an answer. He whimpered, never wanting to return to the Sanctuary as he was perfectly happy here in limbo. 

Something grew from the ashes and smoke, appearing like a ghost with silent footsteps. He felt warmth graze over his cheek, skin so soft that it made him moan and he looked up- blue eyes red and puffy. His breath caught in his throat as a woman, no an angel, stared down at him with a tender gaze. Her fingers trailed down his neck, over his right shoulder and down his arm, feeling the violent heartbeat that lied underneath. A hot track was left behind where ever she touched. Her eyes mesmerised him, like a priest to a bible or a mosquito to a bug zapper. Amongst the vast darkness that had become the cave, her eyes shone like the moon- beautiful, radiant and pure. Could such a woman come from the depths of Hell?

“I-I want to love.”

It was like someone else had said it for him, his mouth moving on its own accord. More tears raced down his face and she smiled lovingly, wiping them away without a thought. The Antichrist sighed in bliss before reaching out to touch her waist. He prayed that she wasn’t some illusion sent to torture him but when his own fingers made contact with her skin, there was only sheer relief that flooded his system. Ice had cooled the pools of boiling lava.

“Love can be painful,” she cautioned.

“I know.”

The Antichrist pulled her onto his lap as she kissed him with the force of all the layers of Hell covered in all the sweetness that Spring and Summer could bring. A raging storm concocted of a gentle breeze that soothed his aches and filled his bones. A hunger, a calling, a demand was met and was sealed with his blood coating and smearing against her chest and stomach. A lover sent from Satan.

When Michael opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at the ceiling of the Ritual Room. It was dark as the choir of candles had been snuffed when they drowned in their own wax. His whole body felt as if it was Hell itself- endless burning and evil. It was a feeling he used to have. With a low groan that rattled his throat, a sneer appeared over his lips and he turned to face the woman that was bare next to him. She clung to Michael like he was her lifeline- her own heartbeat. The man rolled over to look at her properly, a hand coming to stroke her blushing cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open and met his. Without hesitation, she returned the gesture, running her hand through his long, strawberry blonde hair- something that would become a habit.

“What is your name, my heart?” he purred.

“(Y/N).”

“A beautiful name,” he hesitated for a moment, “do you know who I am?”

The Antichrist, he anticipated to hear, that’s all I am.

She felt the mark of the beast behind his ear, but her face never faltered from the smile. She traced over the fresh scars that had healed from the beginning of the ritual. She analysed the blood that was covering the both of them.

“You are Michael Langdon.”

From that moment on, Michael knew he would never get his heart back.

[jaggedheartstrings]

Spread Your Wings (and leave me behind) || Chapter 6

Read on AO3: Here (First chapter)

Word Count: 2.4k

Relationship(s): Winteriron, Past Stony

Summary:

Natasha Antonia Stark was a thriving scientist in the 1940's. Alongside her brother, Howard, they build a whole world of technology and science for themselves.

Up until a fatal night in 1947.

She was announced dead in 1949.

* * *

Toni wasn’t going anywhere with him as long as she had anything to do about it.

“I was hoping to do this the easier way, but the best ones do put up the best fight at first, don’t they?”

It was the last thing she remembered before darkness overtook her.

Chapter Six: Save Me From Myself

Early 1990’s, The Red Room

The young girls dashed across the dimly lit room in hopes of keeping to the music that played loudly. While the melody was soothing, it appeared that the girls were anything but. Many faces were twisted in pain. It was expected, they had been dancing for hours. Yet only one girl, hair fire engine red, kept her face impassive, not willing -or unable- to feel anything. Her movements were cold and left The Winter Flower feeling like it was watching ice claim warm waters. Despite that it was intrigued by the young girl.

“Faster.” Madame B’s voice rang through the room and with one word the whole room spurred to a faster speed in order to survive. One of the girls, a blonde, was breathing hard and unable to keep up with the others’ speed. A sliver of pity ignited in The Winter Flower.

The ballet was as beautiful as a dead body bleeding out in the middle of winter. It made The Winter Flower want to flee, but that would ensure a punishment. Unfortunately, in Hydra lending it to the KGB the deal never contained in what condition it were to be returned to her handlers, only that it were to be alive.

Suddenly the blonde crashed. No-one stopped. They were very well aware of what were to happen if they did. Madame B clicked her tongue and it was moving. Few long strides and it had the girl supported up by her armpit. “Dispose her.”

With a nod it left the room. The young girl was trashing in its hold. “Please! Please don’t!” The blond yelled in despair, “I promise I’ll be better!” Disappointment and disgust arose in it as the blond girl started screeching and crying. Wasn’t it enough it had to do this? Did she have to struggle too?

Heaving a sigh, it tossed the blonde inside the room. She stumbled and landed on the floor in a starfish like position. The Winter Flower barely held back its snort. It was amusing how weak some of these girls were despite growing up in The Red Room. It knew now wasn’t a time to play games and honestly, it didn’t even want to. Taking out the 9mm pistol it always carried, it weighted the gun in its hands before firing a single shot. It rang through the small lightless room. For good measure it shot the girl again to make sure she wouldn’t get up and live. Disobeying was bad enough, but to actually fail to complete what it was asked to do? Madame B would single handedly murder it, if its handlers wouldn’t.

Just to make sure she was really dead, it held its fingers by the blond’s pulse point. When it didn’t find anything, it headed for the door, only to stop short at the sight of the red headed girl. Her head was tilted curiously. “Why did you kill her?” the girl, not older than 15, asked. Her Russian was pronounced without care, but it was her curiosity that puzzled The Winter Flower.

“You know why.” It drawled back. The red head’s face betrayed no emotion, though her eyes seemed to flash with irritation, long enough for it to detect.

“No, I know why she had to die. What I’m asking is why did you kill her?” The Winter Flower paused. The question seemed to confuse it. Did it not have to kill the blond girl? Did it mistake Madame B’s orders?

“I don’t understand,” it replied, confusion and panic seeping into its voice.

“I guessed you wouldn’t.” And that was it.

As years passed inside The Red Room and the red head, Natalia progressed without problem, both The Winter Flower and Natalia grew closer. Never could it answer her question and never did Natalia ask again.

As the century was drawing to a close, The Winter Flower was returned to Hydra.

It never saw Natalia again, and on the rare occasion it remembered the calculating red head a terrible feeling of loss overtook it, making it wish Natalia Romanova was alright, where ever she might be.

 * * *

 1998, NYC, America

A puff of cold air sprung free from the man’s lungs as he moved through Central Park, occasionally hiding in the shadows. It had been a few years since his escape, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling he was watched and followed every time he so much as stepped outside. He supposed it was quite possible, with all the traffic cameras surrounding almost every corner you could turn. New York City was a bad place to hide, but he knew that would also make his captors less likely to look there.

He was moving towards the building where his old buddy was currently living in. Though he had no recollection of what had happened between them in the past, he knew they were close by the small memory snippets that had appeared over time. In those memories, as hazy as they were, he had been a constant.

As soon as it had come to his attention about two and a half years ago, he had felt something shift. His mind was all jumbled, but he hoped he could get help through his old best friend. He hoped they would find what they once had. He also wished to help the woman in his dreams. He couldn’t quite identify who she was, only a name whispered in a night of comfort and love came to his mind.

Natasha.

He didn’t know was this woman alive still, but his dreams had conjured up her in the goddamn awful Chair. It would make him lose his mind completely as he slipped into The Winter Soldier mode, as he’d take to calling it. Sometimes -though it was lessening as he became more lucid- he would slip into that mode, waking up days later not knowing who he’d hurt or what had happened. It was a hellish nightmare.

So that was why he was here, standing in front of the SHIELD apartment where Steve Rogers lived in. He hoped Steve really was here and not on some SHIELD mission. As quick as that thought came, a clear picture of a skinny blonde boy arguing with him about going to war appeared. James barely held back his gasp at the pain that followed. Suddenly it seemed like a bad idea to even be in the vicinity of him. That doubt disappeared immediately as he realized this was the clearest memory he has had in years.

Falling back on old training, James slipped into the building, keeping his ears and eyes carefully open. His watchful eyes flickered back and forth on ever single detail he could get. The lobby was painted a washed-out light blue. It wasn’t as in-your-face as one would expect. The bland and colourless deco complimented the bright walls nicely. And while there was a bunch of sofas and chairs in one of the corners, they seemed a bit dusty like no-one had sat there in a while. Suspicion flared and James’ hand slipped into his pocket to grab the trusty knife he’d had for years, if not decades. He strained his ears, hoping to hear something. When nothing was there to be heard, he continued towards the lift.

His left metallic hand hovered over the call button. Quickly deciding that the stairs were safer, incase of ambush, he headed to the other side of the room towards the stairwell. His neck prickled at the silence. It was unnerving. Silent as a ghost, he trudged up the stairs.

Steve’s apartment was on the third floor. The second floor would not be a place where he would linger for long. Despite being silent, he moved as quick as lightning. On the right side of the stairs was three doors. The silent and empty corridor had hairs on his arms standing up. He quickly stalked towards the doors. The door on the right and closest to the stairs had light music coming from inside. The door on the left remained silent. And the middle door, Steve’s door, was silent as well.

Knowing the dangers of knocking on his door, James quietly slipped out his knife, taking out the hair pin that was hidden in the handle. As quiet as possible, he slowly started to feel out the lock. In seconds he had the door unlocked. By now he was quite sure Steve knew that someone was breaking into his apartment.

The door opened with a slight screech that made James grimace. He could hear deep concentrated breathing, he could hear Steve. Cursing his stupidity of coming here when he was home. He stepped inside and like he expected, the shield was flying towards him. He quickly turned to the side, his hair slapping into his face, and grabbed the shield with his metallic arm. The clank rang through the apartment and corridor. He grinned at Steve and could hear how he stopped breathing.

“Bucky?”

“Guess, I should’ve knocked.”

 *

 Hours and many explanations later, Steve was still staring at James like he was seeing a ghost. He supposed he was one. All Steve had known was that he had died in the Alps in the forties. It was quite sad to see Steve reaching for Bucky, when all he could give him was James. He understood it. For Steve it had been only a couple of years, but for him it had been more than 50 years. James knew he understood that there was no more of ‘Bucky’, but had a hard time realizing what it actually meant.

“I-uh,” Steve stumbled over his words in the living room they were sitting in. James turned towards him, his question clear in his eyes. Steve’s eyes suddenly glinted with unshed tears and he seemed to choke on his words. It regarded James with surprise. He had never seen his best friend so pained. “They told me-” Steve’s tears flowed down his cheeks and the ragged breath he took in made James almost flinch.

Quickly, he scampered up from his seat across from Steve and took the shivering man into his arms. “I thought I had lost you, too!” Steve suddenly cried out, and this time he flinched from the loudness by his ear. Nevertheless, he didn’t take his arms away from the hug as the blonde clinged to him. After what felt like hours, Steve lessened his deathly grip on James and dragged his sleeves across his face. He muttered an, “I’m sorry,” before he released him completely.

“What on earth are you sorry for, you punk?” James asked him in a quite murmur. Steve’s eyes grew unfocused for a moment, before he smiled at his old friend.

“For breaking apart like that. I just- ah, remembered something I found out.” Steve smiled a self-decrepitating smile. It soon turned into a grimace.

“You wanna tell me what it was?” James asked carefully, stepping back to stare at his friend. The blonde’s face went through a bath of emotions, before settling on a horribly broken look.

“It’s ah, it’s about Natasha.” Steve finally said, although very carefully. The name launched an assault of images of cold nights with soft voices and naked bodies, of gruesome murders and painful punishments, the image of screaming, hot and pain- Like doused with cold water, James’ head arose from the assault.

After a while of calming himself down and placing a carefully constructed mask of curiosity, he asked, “Natasha who?” Steve’s eyes grew stormy and his eyebrows pinched together, like he was disappointed that James wouldn’t remember.

“My Natasha. Stark? Natasha Antonia Stark?” Steve’s voice was wavering, and he felt worried the blonde would burst into another set of tears. God, Steve’s girlfriend, James suddenly remembered with clarity. She must be in her seventies.

“God,” James breathed out. “I remember her. Is she alright?”

Steve’s eyes glistened again, and his jaw clenched so tight James could hear the screech of his teeth. “She’s dead.” The simple statement made it feel like someone had punched him in the gut. He couldn’t imagine- oh, Steve. “S-She died in 1949. L-lab accident, a building collapsed on her and her team.”

“Steve,” James breathed out. “God, that’s awful.”

“N-Not only did she have to deal with me being gone and the aftermath of the war, she hadn’t even lived to 25, B-James.” James felt his breathing catch in his throat, and he had to swallow multiple times to rid of the lump in his throat.  “Oh, Howard must’ve been so broken. He l-loved her so much. How couldn’t anyone love that woman?”

Howard Stark, Maria Stark, 1991, December 16th, dispose of Howard, retrieve the serum, kill possible witnesses. “…Winter Soldier Program reactivated…” James hissed at the pain. He couldn’t help but fall to his knees on the hardwood floor. Everything around him went dark for a second, before he startled with a gasp. “Oh, God.”

“Bucky?” Steve asked tentatively. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, God. Steve,” he gasped out. “Oh, God. I killed him!”

A thunderous expression overtook Steve’s features as he grabbed James’ hands. He pulled them away from the painful grip they had on his hair. “James.” The stern voice froze him completely. The only telltale sign of his panic was the harsh breathing. “You might’ve delivered the death sentence, but it wasn’t your choice. You were only protecting yourself, no-one would expect anything less. It wasn’t you.”

Oh, how he wanted to believe Steve’s precious words. “But I still did it,” James hissed as he wrenched himself free and retreated to a corner. Steve continued his thunderous gaze on him, but an understanding dawned upon him. He could understand why James felt the way he did.

It could be compared to what Steve had to go through when he got soldiers killed on the field. He didn’t do all he could. His careful planning only went so far. But for James it was so much worse. It wasn’t his ordering of troops that got them killed, but his very own hands, controlled by the hands of others.

“This is why I came here,” James informed him after minutes of silent glaring. “I need help. Professional help. But not from SHIELD.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust them.” James opted for.

“Well, do you trust me?” Steve asked him. Did he trust him? No, James didn’t trust him. It didn’t mean he couldn’t.

“No, I don’t,” he answered truthfully. After a beat he added, “Yet.”

Steve’s smile was slightly bitter.

[keyofjetwolf]

Jet Wolf Summarizes Act 43

The manga and I kind of hate each other. This is unfortunate, but still, I’m determined to come out of this with something. Rather than spend energy on a liveblog that’s increasingly negative, I’m reading each manga act (mostly) silently, and then writing up summaries at the end. I won’t pull my punches. There’s going to be criticism and snark about the manga, either wholesale or in details. If that isn’t a thing you feel like reading, please skip this post!

One of the classic, most beloved tropes in all of literature is that of hubris: an excessive amount of arrogance or pride that leads to the character’s downfall. It’s a basic element of storytelling that we learn from before we’re able to read those stories to ourselves. You’d think, then, surrounded by millennia of cautionary tales, that none of us would fall prey to hubris.

That’s why, I think, it always manages to surprise us when it happens. Feeling you’re safe from the perils of excessive pride: perhaps the greatest act of hubris possible.

These are the thoughts I was left with as I finished Act 43 today. As I dared think for a moment that I could celebrate something in the manga, as I had the audacity to believe this would for a change be a summary filled with mostly pleased commentary. I might even try a bit of deeper analysis! This will be great!

You fool, Jet Wolf. You beautiful, doomed fool.

We open this issue with Concerns About Mamoru, and we stay there for nearly half of the entire thing. Seriously, this act is 49 story pages and we don’t leave Mamoru’s side until Page 21. Yes I am petty enough at this stage to count.

If I were feeling charitable, I might add that probably half of THAT is Big Bad Exposition Theater, but I think you’ll find I am out of charity. Pegasus having the unmitigated gall to praise Mamoru for single-handedly saving the world for the past four seasons doesn’t help. Pegasus says he and Mamoru are both cursed with a black rose growing in their chest, which is somehow both figurative and literal at the same time, and they need to find the golden crystal which is now super more important than the SILVER crystal because it’s really Mamoru’s. I think? I don’t know, the anime never made sense either. It’s all really just an excuse for Mamoru to be all “I AM USELESS I CANNOT PROTECT YOU” A-FUCKING-GAIN.

You know those types of people who insult themselves, and it’s entirely so other people will be “Oh no, that’s not true, let me tell you how wonderful you are!” MAMORU IS ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE AT ONCE. You don’t get to play the “poor useless me” card for the thirteenth time when five minutes ago someone LITERALLY GAVE YOU AND YOU ALONE CREDIT FOR EVERYTHING THAT HAS HAPPENED IN THE ENTIRE STORY AND THE STORY ITSELF IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU IT KIND OF BACKS THAT UP

Also it’s been two days, Mamoru, calm your fucking tits.

WHO DO I PETITION TO SHARE SOME OF MY FUCKING PAIN BECAUSE I COULD DO WITH A PAIN-SHARING BUDDY SYSTEM

By the way, I know I said it was 21 pages before we left Mamoru, but the next page has the Inners talking about him, and I think that should count.

Speaking of, the Inners try to figure out what to do, and this leads them to the conclusion that they wish the Outers were there.

RECORD SCRATCH

WAIT WAIT WAIT

What the shit is this? Seriously? For this entire arc, even when the Inners ostensibly HAVE a chapter, it manages to be about the Outers, which is a separate complaint I’ll scream about in a second. Right now though, I say yet again, THIS IS LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE WITHIN THE SCOPE OF THIS FUCKING STORY.

Half the drive of the last arc was how the Inners and Outers couldn’t work together. More than that, they literally didn’t get the opportunity.

BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY THIS AGGRAVATED AND PETTY TO DAY, I AM GOING TO GO THROUGH ISSUE BY ISSUE OF THE PREVIOUS MANGA STORY ARC AND RECOUNT THE INNERS/OUTERS INTERACTIONS

By “Inners” I mean specifically Rei, Ami, Mako, and Minako. NOT USAGI. Usagi interactions do not count, because Usagi is not the one conjuring up inspiring images of the Outer Senshi to fuel their power-ups and help them do their basic fucking jobs. With me here on the conditions? I’m looking for the totality of all non-Usagi-based interactions between the Inner and Outer Senshi in the manga Infinity arc. Okay, here we go.

Act 27: Haruka and Michiru are at the arcade where they are cool and only speak meaningfully to Usagi and Mamoru. Later, Uranus threatens the non-Usagi Senshi for literally no reason.

Act 28: Haruka body slams Mako and then insults, pissing them all off. Michiru is (not) also there.

Act 29: The Inners show up just as Uranus runs off. Later, Uranus and Neptune bail them out of their mini-boss fight and are assholes.

Act 30: The Outers literally attack the Inners. Later, Ami fights bad guys. Haruka and Michiru are also there.

Act 31: Uranus and Neptune + Pluto show at the very end and say nothing.

Act 32: Haruka blames the Senshi (including Usagi) for blowing their cover at Mugen. Later, under the Death Buster’s influence, the Inners and Outers try to kill each other.

Act 33: Still trying to kill each other when Usagi whines for them to stop and they do. The Inners happen to be in the room when the Outers drop some SilMil backstory. The Outers once again tell the Inners (+Usagi) that they can’t work together.

Act 34: The Outers aren’t there for these moments, but as the Inners are attacked, they don’t for a single second draw on the Outers to break free of the spell. Whatever strong motivating connections we’re supposed to believe exist, demonstratively do not to this point in the story.

Act 35: The Inners and Outers split up, with Usagi going with the Outers. The Inners are abducted.

Act 36: The Inners are unconscious all issue.

Act 37: The Inners wake up and get knocked out again. They land next to an Outer, but it’s the end of the world, and so they all just watch dramatically.

Act 38: Usagi saves the world, and the Outers take their baby consolation prize and immediately leave.

THAT IS IT FOLKS THAT IS THE ENTIRETY OF THE INNERS/OUTERS RELATIONSHIPS AS ESTABLISHED BY THIS VERY SAILOR MOON MANGA IN ITS PREVIOUS ARC

The best opportunity anybody had for anything at all -- by which I mean the two groups were both conscious and present in the same location when the Outers weren’t being assholes to or directly threatening the Inners, and the groups were not actively attempting to murder each other -- was in Act 37 when they were separated on rooftops AND THE WORLD WAS LITERALLY ENDING. Everyone was angsting about Usagi disappearing into the maw of Pharaoh 90, to the point where Haruka literally has a screaming breakdown about not being able to protect her.

BUT SURE

SURE TELL ME AGAIN HOW THINKING ABOUT HARUKA, MICHIRU, AND SETSUNA FILLS YOU WITH STRENGTH

TELL ME ABOUT HOW THEIR AWESOMENESS IS THE SOLE INSPIRATION TO BE BETTER AND MORE POWERFUL SENSHI

NOT YOURSELVES OH NO THAT STRENGTH DOESN’T COME FROM YOU

TELL ME AGAIN HOW IT HAS TO COME FROM SOMEONE ELSE BECAUSE YOU LITERALLY AT NO POINT IN THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN STORY HAVE HAD ANYTHING FOR YOUR FUCKING SELVES

I know I’ve said several times over the course of this liveblog project how infuriating and frustrating I find the manga. PLEASE KNOW I HAVE MEANT EVERY FUCKING WORD.

If Takeuchi wanted to go this route, she had AMPLE opportunity to do it. But as with R, it’s like there are two realities: the flat, one-dimensional Usagi/Mamoru-centric story she tells, and the slightly more dynamic story she tries to TELL US she told us after the fact.

I WAS THERE I KNOW THE STORY I GOT AND IT WASN’T THIS

It makes everything that stems out of this limp and flavourless. You can’t hang major emotional points on hooks you never bothered to put up. And I’m frankly insulted that she keeps fucking doing this. YOU HAVE WONDERFUL CHARACTERS RIGHT THERE. YOU ARE THE WRITER. IT’S NOT MY JOB TO GIVE YOUR STORY ACTUAL SUBSTANCE. If you want us to be able to play around with that shit, maybe don’t waste so much of your goddamn time hammering home points you’re going to directly contradict the moment you realize they don’t carry any emotional weight whatsoever.

UGH GOD I’VE BEEN LIKE THREE HOURS AND I HAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN TO MINAKO’S SIDE OF THIS ISSUE

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO