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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years

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Aaron Hotchner / A Promise Amongst the Storm

Prompt: Based on season 11, episode 22, “The Storm” aka the episode Hotch gets arrested.

Summary: A family always kept their promises - but you just hoped you could keep yours to Jack, and get his father out of jail.

Word Count: 4,806

Warnings: fluff, angst, some language, reader going very lawyery on people’s asses, me possibly having too much fun using a tiny bit of what I learned in law school, mentions of Haley, use of dialogue from the episode

"You getting all packed up?" Aaron asks, his footsteps heavy with the thud of his shoes against the carpeted hardwood.

"Uh-huh," Aaron walks across the dining area, a kiss to your forehead.

"That means you too," you were typing furiously at your laptop, brow thoroughly furrowed. You needed to get this email out to your opposing counsel, just to let him know how inappropriate that sandbagging he pulled was, and how you were going to let the judge know that in your discovery meeting today.

"I'm almost done, grandpa, give me a minute," you mock grumble, shooting a grin to Jack, who hid his smile as he packed his backpack, before running out the room to grab something.

Aaron hums, his arms curl around you, "Is that how it's gonna be, old timer?"

"Since when am I old?" You giggle, as his large hands press into your hips, before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your neck, fingers finding yours, the cool metal of your wedding bang against his skin.

"Since you married a grandpa," he murmurs against your skin, as Jack re-enters, grimacing.

“Can you guys not be gross so early in the morning?” he has a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “I just ate breakfast.”

“I didn’t realize we were so gross that we could induce sickness amongst children,” you say, and Aaron laughs, pressing one last kiss to your cheek.

“Must be the elderly thing,” and you scoff, hands on your hips.

“Jack, am I old?” and then you see him hesitate, “Don’t answer that.”

“Good thinking,” Aaron mumbles, and you stick your tongue out at him, as Jack smiles, continuing to pack up his backpack.

The doorbell rings, and you see Aaron strode by to open it, “Hurry up,” he warns you more than Jack. You shut your laptop and tuck into your bag just in time to see J.J. and Henry enter past Aaron, grinning, “Good morning,”

“Hi,” J.J. greets, before the kids start talking.

“Did you bring the comics?” You throw your bag over your shoulder, ready to leave.

“Yeah, the new one comes out today,” Henry replies, the kids heading over to the dining table, as you mouth to J.J. ‘What comics?’

She waves you off, ‘It’s fine. Our kids are nerds.’ You hide your laugh, as Jack finishes up packing up, continuing to discuss the comics at length with Henry as he does.

“We really appreciate you giving us a drive today,” J.J. says, a small smile on her face, as Hotch goes to unlock the gun safe.

“Sure, absolutely. Any time,” he replies with a smile.

“I wish you would do it more often,” you squeeze beside her and Henry, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, squeezing J.J.’s hand, “I miss you both now that I’m working at the Attorney General's.”

“Well, Hotch makes it sound like you’re fitting in just fine—”

“More than just fine,” Aaron says, placing his gun in his holster, as you frown at him, “you just closed a major case last week for the Attorney General’s office—”

And J.J. raises her eyebrows, “I didn’t hear about this,”

“Technically, I can’t talk details, but it was quite a victory,” you shrug, “but the case has been going on for years, years before I started working there.”

“You have to give yourself more credit,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, as J.J. helps the kids finish packing up.

“That’s what I have you for, right?”

And the door bursts open, the sound of splitting wood and metal cracks through the relative silence. In a moment, Aaron pushes you behind him, pointing his gun, “MPD!”

“Aaron—” you whisper, but he keeps you behind him, as you look at the kids, both in J.J.’s arms,

“I’m on the job,” Aaron’s voice stays steady, but you can feel his heart pounding through his back.

“Drop your weapon—”

“I’m Aaron Hotchner with the FBI,”

“We know who you are, lower your gun,” the large barrels are pointed right at him, but you can’t move. You can’t speak, your fingers dig into his jacket.

“Aaron—”

“Who sent you?” he asks, and they don’t answer, only holding their guns steady as he orders Aaron again, to lower his gun.

“Hotch—” J.J. cuts through the silence, and you glance over at Jack and Henry — Jack whose eyes are glassy, and Henry who has his face buried in his mom’s arm.

He begins to lower his weapon, “This is a mistake.”

“Daddy, what’s going on?”

“It’s ok, Jack,” Aaron tells him, but its not. It’s not.

“On your knees,” he orders, “hands behind your back.”

“Is this really necessary?” Aaron asks, setting his gun down, holding his hands up in the air. And you know he’s not asking for himself — but for Jack. Is this necessary to do in front of his son? His son who has already lost so much. His son who has seen things he should never see. His son who doesn’t need another thing to keep him up at night.

“Now!” he orders.

“Daddy,” you see tears in Jack’s eyes, as he begins to cry. And anger floods your body like liquid heat, erasing any inch of fear. How dare they. How fucking dare they do this to your family.

“What are the charges?” you ask, as Aaron does what he says, slowly getting on his knees, and placing his hands behind his back, “you haven’t told us the charges — you can’t arrest him—”

“We have orders here that says you can—”

“Your orders do not pre-empt the Constitution,” you cross your arms, as you step in front of him now “now I’m Aaron Hotchner’s attorney, and you won’t take him anywhere, until you tell me what the charges are.”

Aaron says your name as a warning, “Don’t. Stay with Jack—”

“What are the charges?”

“He’s being charged with an attempted terrorist threat—” and you scoff, as they move to cuff him.

“Where’s your evidence? Where’s your warrant—” and they haul Aaron to his feet in cuffs, and you nearly break when you see him look at you.

“Daddy—” Jack cries.

“It’s okay, Jack,” Aaron’s voice is steady, hiding the fear and the confusion, tucked away, as he looks at his son, “it’s a big mistake and everything is going to be alright,” You move to leave, “Stay with Jack.”

You stop short, glancing at Jack, “I know, but—”

He looks at you, a silent understanding passing.

‘You need a lawyer.’

‘I am a lawyer.’

‘Jack needs to know you’re alright.’

‘Jack needs a parent there to tell him that.’

‘If you need me you’ll call?’

“I’ll call you if I invoke,” he promises, and you watch them pull him away, “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

You watch a moment, before rushing to Jack’s side, you kneel, pulling him from J.J.’s arms gently, “Jack, Jack,” he hugs you, sobbing into your shoulder, “he’s going to be okay. This is a mistake. And we’re not going to stop until we find out who did this.”

“What if—” his voice breaks, “What if—”

“No what ifs,” you lean back, wiping the tears from his cheeks, “you know your dad is literally a superhero right? He can handle a few government goons. He was a prosecutor, he’s a bureau chief, and don’t forget how good he is at reading people. He knows what he’s doing. And I’m going to be with you, until we get him out. And he will get out. We will get him out.” you pull him to your shoulder again, glancing at J.J., “I promise.”

~~~

“I need to know where my husband is being held,” you paced the room, glancing at Aaron’s office where J.J. was sitting with Jack and Henry, “I work for the Attorney General’s office, I graduated with honors from a very reputable law school — either you tell me, or I will have every one of my colleagues, my classmates, and every attorney I’ve worked with suing you—” and then you started hearing words you liked, “thank you for the confirmation.”

You hang up the phone, sparing a glance at Aaron’s empty desk, your heart squeezing. He’ll be okay. You’ll get him back.

There’s a knock at the door, and Rossi sticks his head in, and you lean against the desk, a question written on his face.

“He’s being held by the Inspector General’s office, like I thought,” you crossed your arms, rubbing your temple, “I have a contact there, I’m going to call to see how he’s doing and where they have him. And maybe go down there, if Jack’s okay.”

“You do what you need to,” Rossi clapped his hand to your shoulder, squeezing it, “we can hold down the fort here.”

“I may have to go down there and see if I can get him, see if—” you feel your front crumble to pieces at the thought of Aaron in jail — being held on false charges. You knew as good as anyone how fucked the system was, how the government loved to make an example out of anyone, how completely, absolutely fucked this could get given the right circumstances— and instead of helping him, you were falling to pieces. Dave whispers your name, his lips twisted in a frown, and you shake your head, a small shaky breath escaping your lips, “What the hell is going on Dave?”

“I don’t know,” he pulls you into a hug, as you blink back tears, “but we’re going to find out.”

“Hey, J.J., mind letting me have some time with Jack for a minute?” she nods, shepherding Henry down to have some time with his Uncle Reid for a bit, while you sat next to Jack, “hey buddy,” He doesn’t look up from his comic, brow thoroughly furrowed — like father like son, “you don’t have to say anything, but I found out where your dad is.”

His eyes fly up, “Where is he?”

“The Inspector General has him. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding—”

“Does that mean he’s coming home now?” and your heart breaks, but this wasn’t about you — it was about Jack.

“Not yet, but I’m going to go down there, and kick some butts to make sure he can get home to you and to us as fast as possible,” his gaze drops back to the comic panels, but you could tell he wasn’t reading it, the gears grinding in his head, “I can’t force you to tell me what’s on your mind, Jack. And I don’t want to. I want you to feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” and he stays quiet, lips perfectly pursed, “and I’m also not a mindreader, like your buddy in the comic here.”

He scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips, “Spiderman can’t read minds,”

“Doesn’t he have that spidey sense or whatever? Can’t he read minds with that?” the smile is gone as quick as it appeared, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. And as scary as this is for me, it’s just as scary, if not scarier, for you.”

He sighs, “Why is it always my family?”

And your chest aches, “Jack—”

“First it was my mom,” he whispers, “and then dad is away. He gets hurt. He’s in the hospital. And now they took him from me—” his voice breaks, a tear slipping down his cheek, “I just want everything to be okay.”

“It will be,” you pull him into a hug, his arms looping around your middle, “I promise, it will be. I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry,” you wipe your own tears away, “I really wish you didn’t have to see that, buddy, and I’m sorry. But I know you are just as strong as your parents are, and they are so strong. And I need you to have faith in us — the team, me — we are your family too. And we will never let anything happen to your dad or to you.”

“Never?” he mumbles, and you run your fingers through his hair.

“Never,” you pull away, “you trust me right?”

“I do,” he wipes his tears away with his forearm before you hand him a tissue.

“Me and your dad know the law backwards and forwards — and you know what your dad is? Innocent, he didn’t do a thing,” you cross your arms, “We just have to prove that — and that should be pretty easy to prove, considering what a goodie two shoes your dad is. He wouldn’t even take those extra wet naps from that restaurant we went to.” You add, a smile pulling on your lips.

He chuckles, “He made you put them back,” and you grab a water bottle, handing it to him, he squeezes it in his hand, “when will you get him home?”

“If you don’t mind staying here for a bit, I’m going to go down there and see if I can speak to your dad, see if I can wrangle him out of there. I’m sure your dad already has them begging for mercy. Do you mind if I go? If you need me to stay, I will.”

“Go,” he says, before pulling you into another hug, his grip tight around your middle, “just please come back. Bring Dad back.”

“I will, I promise,” you press a kiss to his head, “We won’t ever leave you, Jack. Not ever.”

~~~

“I demand to see my client,” before you had taken this job at the Attorney General’s office, your law degree had been collecting dust in the back of your closet (along with Aaron’s for that matter). But after you started at the A.G.’s office, you had some time to readjust to being back into a legal setting, and you were particularly grateful for that at this moment. You were finally making progress, this was the only the third attorney you’ve spoken to — the other two which passed the buck — “I don’t have to tell you that an office charged with investigating the integrity of its officers having an ethical complaint and lawsuit thrown right back at them makes for good press coverage — and the kind of case I just love to prosecute. I have contacts at every major legal organization in the country, not least of all D.C., any of one of them would be willing to help me take this case—”

“Excuse me—” but you continue over him.

“And you will be buried, and I mean buried — until your entire office will have to resign in disgrace for violating one of the most vital tenets of the U.S. Constitution — the sixth amendment.”

“He hasn’t invoked,”

“And yet I asserted myself as his attorney in front of the armed SWAT team you sent to arrest a highly esteemed bureau chief of the FBI in front of another FBI agent and two small children, one of which was his,” you raise a single eyebrow, “do you really argue semantics with me right now? I want to see him. Otherwise, we can argue semantics in front of a trier of fact.”

The attorney stares at you, gritted teeth and clenched jaw. And you smile.

“What are you doing?” the door bursts open and you walk in, “This is—”

“This is a violation of my client’s basic constitutional rights,” you walk to Aaron’s side, squeezing his shoulder, “tell me, what was the probable cause you had to even start investigating him in the first place?”

“It was Scratch,” Hotch says, “he said—”

“This is a confidential—”

“You seized my client on the word of a psychopath,” you give a terse chuckle, “you violated his fourth amendment right to privacy, his sixth amendment right to attorney, his fifth amendment right to procedural due process—”

“That’s not important right now,” Aaron says your name, “there’s a prison break happening. The team.”

Shit. You checked your phone — twelve missed calls and so many messages from Garcia, “We need to leave here immediately.”

“He is not—”

“Should I actually start mentally preparing that report for the subcommittee?” and you cross your arms as well, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll join him and start preparing a complaint to file against your entire office and specifically you,” and you see him pale further, his brow furrowed in a scowl, “Your name was again?”

~~~

You don’t touch him until you leave that horrible office. But once you’re both through the double doors, the pretense of professionalism drops and he pulls you immediately to him, burying your face in his chest, “I was—”

“I know,” he breathes back, his face buried in the crook of your neck, “I was—”

“I know,” you smile, leaning back to cup his cheek, “Jack is at the BAU, I should get back. And you—”

“I have to go,” and you chuckle, “but you knew that already.”

“There are very few things I don’t know about you, Aaron Hotchner,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, "but everyday I look forward to learning some of them."

He kisses you again, full mouthed and sweet, as if he was trying to show you just how much he loved you — how much he did that he could never truly express in words.

"You'll tell Jack?"

You kiss him one last time, running your thumb across the ridge of his cheekbone, "Promise."

~~~~

Aaron enters , breathless, as if every breath he had taken from the moment he was arrested he released the moment he saw Jack. You hang back in the doorway as J.J. grabs Henry, “Hey,”

Jack doesn’t look up from his drawing, continuing to color, the scratching of the color pencil filling the silence of the office, “Hey.”

Aaron purses his lips, “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” Jack responds tersely, and you frown, leaning against the door, holding your tongue. This was between them. It wasn’t your place.

“Can I take a look?” And Jack sets down his color pencil, flipping over the drawing decisively.

“No,” he replied, before tucking it away in his binder. And you didn’t need to see Aaron’s face to know he was hurt — or what was worse, thinking he deserved it, “are you okay?”

You bit back a chuckle, despite everything, he was still his father’s son, and his mother’s for that matter, “Yeah, I’m ok. How about you?”

Jack looks up a moment, putting his things away, an inscrutable emotion flickering across his face, “I’m fine.”

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Jack slings on his backpack, dejected, as he slips past his father without even a glance. Aaron watches him leave, his gaze cast downward, and Jack slips past you, Aaron following. You grab his hand, pulling him back a moment.

You glance at Jack and back at him, and he shakes his head, “I’m fine.”

~~~

It wasn’t fine.

And all three of you knew that. On the car ride home, you spent it in relative silence, exchanging looks with Aaron, mouthing in silent conversation.

‘You should talk to him.’

‘I will when we get home.’

‘Do you want me to be there?’

‘Always, Jack needs you too—’

“I know you’re talking about me,” Jack speaks up from behind.

You turn around, Aaron’s eyes flickering to the rear view mirror — caught in the act, “what do you mean, bud?”

“I’m not stupid, I can tell when you two are talking about me,” Jack crosses his arms, his backpack by his side.

“Jack,” Aaron chides gently, “we talked about language—”

Jack huffs, his voice rising, “Dad, you were arrested today—”

“Let’s talk about this when we get home?” you interrupt, looking between father and son, “Okay?”

God. You were only looking forward to the teenage years after this.

~~~

“Jack, a man I arrested framed me today,” Jack sat beside Aaron, while you sat across from them, “that’s why I was arrested. He was trying to cover up something else he was trying to do. Something bigger,” Jack doesn’t say anything, only staring downward, “But I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to see that, buddy. I didn’t want you to. I’m so—”

“Why didn’t you come back?” Jack peers up at him, as Aaron blinks, “why didn’t you come see me right after you got out?”

“Jack, I came—”

“You always have to go to work. You always leave. I was worried, Dad,” his voice broke, as his father pulled him into his arms, “And you got out, but you didn’t come see me.”

“Jack, people needed help, I’m—”

“I needed you, Daddy,” Jack fists his hands in Aaron’s shirt, “I need you.”

Aaron breaks in that moment, tears slipping down his cheeks, shaking his head, “I know, I know,” he wraps his arms around him, tugging him close, he presses a kiss to the top of his head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jack. I should’ve come to see you first before going. I didn’t think. I should have thought about you first. I love you. I love you more than anything.”

“But your dad did send me to check on you,” you piped up, walking over and sliding beside Jack, “you were the first thing on his mind when he got out, Jack, even with everything else going on. Even when he went to help the team, he was thinking about going home to you. He always is. Every case.” and his glassy eyes meet yours, before you add, “He should have come, you’re right, but he loves you, so much.” you brushed his hand, and he intertwined his smaller fingers with yours, “and I do too.”

He sniffs, “Did you kick a lot of butts to get Dad out?”

Aaron chuckles, and you grin, blinking back tears, “I sure did. I might be hearing from several other people’s lawyers who might be suing me for emotional distress — but I was mad. No one likes it when I’m mad.”

“We know,” Jack and Aaron said together, and you huffed, open mouthed.

“I’m not that bad!”

“Debatable,” He shrugs.

“I guess I’ll see you in court,” before clapping Jack on the arm, “come on, go get ready for bed, and I’ll tell you about all the yelling I did today to get your dad out—” Aaron raises his eyebrows, “what? I won’t work blue — it’ll be kid appropriate.”

“I’d like to hear this myself,” He gives Jack a kiss, “I’ll see in a few, buddy. I love you.”

Jack pauses, before hugging his dad again, arms thrown around his shoulders, “I love you too, Dad.”

He throws his arms around you too, his tiny arms squeezing around your neck, “I love you too,” he mumbles, before scurrying off without another word.

You both watch him run off to his bedroom to get ready for bed, as Aaron slumps against the couch, slinging his arm over your shoulders, “I think we could all use a vacation after this,” you run your fingers through his hair, “don’t you think?”

“Somewhere without cellphones,” and you scoff.

“Maybe for you, I can use technology without someone calling me to work,” you lay against his shoulder, looking up at him, “I’m still going to sue you though,” and he chuckles, a smile on his lips, you cross your arms, closing your eyes, “and I won’t hesitate to bring up all the times I saved your butt by the way.”

“Past acts don’t--”

“This isn’t civil court — I’m going to file a criminal complaint. I do know the D.C. District attorney after all,” his fingers tilt your chin upwards, warm touch making your eyes open to find him staring at you, his love so easily and clearly written there that it makes you smile, “past acts contribute to pattern, remember?”

“What are the charges?” he breaths, leaning closer, noses bumping, lips only brushing as you can’t stop smiling long enough to kiss him.

“Theft,” you murmurs, as his lips finally meet yours, your fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, “you stole my heart after all.”

He hums, as his teeth graze your bottom lip, “Are you this corny in court?”

“Shut up,” you murmur, fingers brushing his jaw, “do I need to remind you who saved your ass today?”

A frown pulls at his lips, pulling away a moment, “Thank you,”

“You don’t have—” he shakes his head, bringing your knuckles to his lips.

“Not just for that,” he kisses each one, “for everything.”

And you smile, before tugging him close again, “I meant what I almost said — you don’t need to thank me for that,” your lips find his again, smiling against him, “but you’re welcome.”

~~~

“Is this your card?” Spencer pulls the card from Penelope’s hair, Henry and Jack gaping at him, wide grins across their faces.

“How did you do that?” Garcia squeals, gaping at Spencer.

“How did you do that?” you repeat, tone flat and brow furrowed.

“There’s always a skeptic,” Reid says, shuffling his cards.

“You’re the skeptic. You are quite literally always one,” you cross your arms, glaring at him, “how did you do that?”

You and Spencer continue to bicker, as Aaron watches, shaking his head, “I had a hard time putting both boys down last night,”

“They couldn’t sleep,” J.J. gives a short chuckle, shaking her head.

“Other way around,” her gaze turning back to the boys, “I didn’t want to leave them.”

“How are things on your end?” Aaron sighs, shaking his head. It had been some time since that day, but Jack was having nightmares still. There had been multiple days where he crawled into bed with you and him. It wasn’t like it was any better for him — Aaron kept having dreams about the gunmen at his door, Scratch, whatever other nightmare waiting for him. He was afraid.

Like anyone would be.

“You know, fortunately Jack doesn’t remember a lot about Haley’s death. He knows the story,” he adds, the memory a weight on his chest, recounting to his son about how his mother died protecting him, and she died because of his job, the job he kept, “But he was young.”

“That’s a good thing,”

“That’s a very good thing,” he affirms, flashes of the other day still fresh in his mind, the tears in Jack’s eyes, the fear — the same fear that will stay with him, “But he’s not going to forget seeing me at gunpoint. I just don’t want this job to take anything else away from him.”

He already had lost enough. Too much. More than he ever deserved to. More than he ever wanted his son to lose.

“Well, maybe it gives him something too,” he meets J.J.’s gaze, a wide smile on her lips, “You’re his hero. Not a pretend hero, a real hero.”

And he thought of the other night, I needed you, Dad. “Well he’s growing up. He’s not going to feel that way for too much longer,” a smile tugs at his lips as he watches him with Reid.

“Nah, you can worry about that later,” J.J. adds, “Just be his dad. Enjoy that,” He watches Jack and Henry hide behind you as Reid pelts you with streamers, “they are great together aren’t they?”

“Really great,” he smiles softly, before excusing himself to walk over to you, laughing at Reid’s antics, his hand easily finding yours, “Hi.”

“Hi, did you see—” He presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet and smooth, your eyelids flutter, lips parted, “What was that for?”

He pulls you aside slyly, fingers intertwined as he tugged you along, “I didn’t thank you for everything you’ve done,”

“You already did, Aaron,” you wave him off, but he shakes his head.

“I love you so much, and you were so strong, for me, for Jack,” he wraps his arms around your waist, “I can’t ever thank you enough for that.”

“I love both my Hotchner men more than anything — you don’t need thank me,” you press chaste kiss to his lips, tasting the alcohol on his lips, you hold up your hand, shiny band barely glinting in the low light, “that’s why we have these don’t we? Wouldn’t have married a grandpa if I didn’t love him,” he tilts his head, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, “and I always will.”

“Promise?” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours, your breath warming his lips, as he tugs you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. And for once, he felt like this was a promise that would be kept without question.

“Promise.”

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plounce · 4 years

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do u have any reccomendations for how to read only comics involving rictor and shatterstar?? i used to be into marvel comics so i am immune to the usual comic shenanigans but i would like to learn more about these boys

here is a guide to reading xmen comics for rictor and shatterstar, my favorite canon comics couple! they were the first on-panel gay kiss in a marvel comic! they’re very special to me!

OKAY SO... ok. for anyone else using this, here’s a standard disclaimer that obviously there’s gonna be a lot in these that just absolutely sucks because 1. the 90s, 2. comics are an extremely cishet white male dominated industry. i do not vouch for everything written in these comics, but i think the gaycoding that eventually gets canonized is worth wading through a lot of stupid bullshit and very ugly art.

quick backstory on these two: rictor is a mexican teenager who was kidnapped by an anti-mutant terrorist group and was rescued by x-factor (the original 5). he hung around their auxiliary teen group the x-terminators for most of x-factor, being a delightful little punk (wearing a sleeveless leather vest a lot of the time!) and hanging out with boom-boom (who i love) and then got put into the new mutants for a very short time (where he had a thing with rahne/wolfsbane), before it was dissolved and transformed into x-force when rob liefeld took over the title. rictor hates team leader 90sdude cable because he thinks cable killed his dad in front of him. he tends to be the snarky asshole on the team.

the first part of this article has a lot of little rictor moments i’m not covering here. if you want the full rictor experience, check out x-factor (1986) and !x-terminators! x-factor starts very slowly but it picks up and improves when the simonsons take the helm.

rictor left the team. shatterstar was introduced by liefeld - he’s an Emotionless Warrior Guy Who Loves To Fight from mojoworld (a planet run by a despot who produces tv. it’s Commentary), where he was forced to be a gladiator from birth and doesn’t know a lot of earth customs and doesn’t have emotions (or rather, he represses them).

x-force (1991) feel free to read through all of it, but in case you just want to skip to these two, all of these issues have one or two good little Moments - just do some skimming. i tend to focus more on rictor than star in this era because star is made more interesting than Emotionless Warrior Guy by butting up against rictor:

13-16 (rictor rejoins his old new mutants friends)

19, 21-26 (the first phase of their relationship where they don’t really get along. in one of these issues rictor stares at star’s ass. big moment of star being autism-coded in here too)

29-30 (rictor drives shatterstar around and they seem to get along better, you get to learn a bit about star’s past, adam-x the x-treme is there)

32-33 (just some little moments of them hanging out, a couple good rictor lines)

34 (VERY IMPORTANT - rictor backstory issue! AND this has the first big Subtext moment: shatterstar reveals he learned spanish from tv so he and rictor can have “conversations of a highly -- personal nature” HELLO?)

35 (some little moments where you can see star and rictor are now Friends and star is affected by that friendship)

39-40 (more good friendship - rictor asks if star has been watching dating shows and they just seem close. rictor also has gotten a haircut! we learn shatterstar’s mojoworld designation! they ride some motorcycles!)

43 (VERY IMPORTANT - the two go to a club. rictor tells star he’s a virgin then asks him if he has a dick. i am not kidding this literally happens. star learns what sexual attraction feels like and says ‘i don’t know what emotions im supposed to attach to that’, and rictor tells him he’ll help him learn.)

44 (VERY IMPORTANT - rictor leaves the team because he doesn’t want to have the team communicate telepathically (VERY interesting for a character who is eventually revealed to have been a closeted gay man). shatterstar begs him not to leave - “you’re my best and only friend.” rictor tells him that if he ever needs him, he’ll come back.)

cable (1993) #22 (follows up directly on rictor leaving the team - star accompanies rictor to the airport and has a lot of Feelings and has great hair. “julio. one last time. please, change your mind. what am i going to do without you?” oh so you’re dependent on your best friend who you’re in love with? oh?)

45, 47-48 (star’s weird biology, star brings up rictor as his emotional touchstone in a situation where he isn’t relevant at all. also, a plotline where tabby gets treated terribly by her friends and the narrative!)

49 (VERY IMPORTANT - star wanders around at night wondering why rictor hasn’t contacted him yet. he goes to the club he and rictor went to in #43 and turns down a girl who hits on him. he thinks “i miss julio...” (in an earlier issue, rictor tells cable not to call him by his first name - “only my mom calls me that”), then beats up some homophobes in an alley. I AM NOT KIDDING.)

51-52 (51 has more weird star biology. 52 has two pages of star and james talking that is a nice look at star’s developing emotional state - the rest of 52 is a fight with one of marvel’s extremely fatphobic villains, just a warning to skip the rest of it. although the letter page of 52 has someone go HEY ARE RICTOR AND SHATTERSTAR IN LOVE? thank you roeland looman from the netherlands)

54-56 (the start of shatterstar’s weird bad benjamin russell backstory that is quickly forgotten, disregarded, and uncared about by everybody. BUT in 54, there is some extremely loud subtext where star’s feelings for rictor are explicitly compared to a het romance subplot!)

58 (star is very chill and flamboyant for like two pages, it’s great)

59-61 (VERY IMPORTANT - rictor returns because star Needs him in the midst of his identity crisis!! it’s so joyful and sweet for them both, and the subtext is so LOUD here - there’s just. so much going on, i won’t describe it all, but it’s very good content and their emotionally intimate relationship is very apparent - really excellent gaycoding. the weird shatterstar backstory wraps up circuitously and to no great effect, but the art in the last issue is very nice, and rictor’s plain and uncomplicated concern for star is great.)

63-65 (some little moments - shatterstar and rictor time travel and beat up some nazis, star has a lovely conversation with siryn,)

x-force/cable ‘97 (the team goes to asgard! the important thing is that star says some goofy “ah... warriors...” things, and then rictor teases star for liking delivery pizza. it’s very charming)

67 (they hang out with tabby in a van. shatterstar has pigtails!)

70 (VERY IMPORTANT - rictor and shatterstar exit the team together to go take down rictor’s crime family in mexico! they seem very devoted to each other. shatterstar’s hair is all the way down!)

post leaving x-force:

76 (VERY IMPORTANT - ricstar return for one issue - rictor gets held captive to force shatterstar to fight domino!)

x-force annual 1999 (VERY IMPORTANT - ricstar get their own story about what they’re doing in mexico! shatterstar has an ugly little goatee, but rictor looks great! they choose to share a room rather than sleep separately and then it kind of feels like they shared a bed! rictor has learned star’s alien language! they genuinely just seem so close and comfortable with each other, it’s incredible.) (if you’re using RTO, it’s within the rest of xforce’s issues)

they’re both in comics limbo for the first half of the 00s besides a couple random flavorless appearances. shatterstar at some point goes back to mojoworld to help with the war against mojo. then we hit peter david’s x-factor run in 2006, known as x-factor investigations (xfi). this directly follows the “house of m” event - what matters is that the vast majority of mutants have been depowered by the scarlet witch. rictor is one of them.

rictor is a main character of the team from the first issue (the series opens with him about to attempt suicide), so if you wanna read the run you can start from the beginning. x-factor is... well, there are worse-written comics. it’s an okay read, but i find PAD’s writing insufferable a lot of the time (he writes multiple man as a pretty blatant self insert, and literally every girl on the team wants to fuck him at some point or another). i read the whole thing and it’s decent comics, but you might want to skip to the ricstar.

PAD canonizes ricstar, which is great! but unfortunately: 1. he writes star as “slutty bisexual just can’t stop wanting to fuck people besides his partner who is uncomfortable with that!”, which is biphobic and sucks hugely, especially since it feels so different from xforce original shatterstar (see this post). rictor also just seems so annoyed with him all the time, which also sucks - they’re best friends!! let rictor like his boyfriend!!

anyway. if you choose not to read all of xfi, here are the ricstar highlights:

first issue of xfi for rictor's horrible mental state after m-day

14 (jamie implies that star would be jealous of rictor hanging out with quicksilver)

43, 45, 49 (star reappears!! he’s mindcontrolled, but it gets fixed, and he and rictor have the first ever on panel gay kiss at marvel!! yaaaay!! then they talk about their relationship a little)

after issue #50 it changes the numbering, so if you’re using RCO youll have to go to xfactor (1986) #200 to continue

200 (SHATTERSTAR FIGHTS THE THING!)

continue to read between here for star apparently being unable to stop kissing people. sigh. star sleeps with adult layla, which... sigh. whatever

207-208 (rictor and shatterstar semi-resolve the stupid biphobic plotline, resolve to work on their relationship, rahne discovers them (she and rictor had been sleeping together earlier in xfi), rahne is pregnant and homophobic, rahne and star fight, star is a delightful bitch)

209 (shatterstar on a pirate ship. that's it)

210 (rictor confirms that he is gay and it wasn’t legit when he’s been with women. there’s a moment where it's like "oh star makes rictor laugh" which is epic)

211-212 (star is said to be frustrated about rictor and rahne, rahne’s baby’s actual dad is revealed)

213 (rictor and rahne mostly resolve their shit)

216 (star and monet hang out, star thinks monet tells him to pee on rictor, spiderman is there)

217 (there’s a joke about the longstanding theory that longshot and star are related, monet is revealed as muslim in a very dumb way)

220 (star and rahne have a pretty nice conversation about their relationships to rictor and rahne’s faith. rictor does an offscreen internalized homophobia)

221 (star and rahne continue to hang out but it’s not as good as the previous issue.)

222 (oh my god, rictor cares about shatterstar being hurt! rahne owns up to how she kind of treated rictor like shit!)

pop over to avengers: the children’s crusade (a young avengers miniseries with good ol’ billy/teddy and i like it! but if you don’t want to read the whole thing - rictor and shatterstar appear in #6, and rictor is the first mutant to be repowered! they’re more tender with each other over their five page appearance than they are in xfi, so it’s a balm)

225-226 (PAD decides the first thing rictor does with his powers is be a scab [DEEP SIGH], rictor and shatterstar discuss rictor getting his powers back, the biphobic plotline is resolved again kind of in a very PAD-y way)

235-236 (shatterstar gets to be the main character of a mini arc. fights a mojo guy)

238 (ricstar go with rahne to help her find her son)

242 (they find her son. not as important imo)

248 (oh my god... they joke together :) they like being around each other :) also shatterstar goodboy moment. then in 249 rictor’s life is spared bc of shatterstar’s goodboy moment)

259 (SHATTERSTAR’S CRAZY CONVOLUTED BACKSTORY THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS TO HIS CHARACTER! YAHOO! and star has a cute little bob)

after xfi wraps up, there’s a couple years of limbo before they appear in secret warriors (2017) #2-3 (end of #2 and most of #3), which is a big crossover event or something. i don’t know, it’s an inhumans comic, and as an xmen person i am contractually obligated to roll my eyes at the inhumans. ricstar both have mustaches, star doesn’t speak, and rictor has the ugliest costume ever (green tracksuit with no socks??) (tabby also has a terrible costume). it’s just more inhumans trying to be a match to the xmen and utterly failing to not look & act like total jackasses (except, of course, for kamala and moon girl). rictor’s jokes that daisy johnson should get more original powers (she also has seismic powers - rictor predates her!), and then daisy blows up the xmen’s jet. while it’s in the air. this is a very neat summary of most mutant-inhuman relations.

now we enter the current era of “on again off again” relationship limbo.

rictor appears next in iceman (2017). in #9 he states that he and star have apparently broken up offscreen! and then he hits on bobby! sina grace is a cool person but this writing decision is so... aghhh. the next issue he and bobby go out on a date and he’s immediately like “yeah i only have my eyes on star”, so it seems to be more “it’s complicated” than “we’re broken up for good.” he sticks around to help out with a mission in #10-11.

they’re on again in new mutants: dead souls, where rictor is a part of the team and he’s hilarious and has so many great lines! shatterstar also makes a couple cameos throughout and they’re all super sweet! they seem very domestic and comfortable and happy, i love their dynamic in this. my favorite shatterstar panel ever is in #6, where he is making rictor pancakes and is only wearing an apron. please ignore all the big plot things that happen at the end of this, especially everything with karma. they are stupid, dumb, and do not matter.

related to nm:ds, rictor appears in multiple man #1 as part of that team and looks very very cute. and he isn’t whitewashed like in nm:ds!

off again in the shatterstar (2018) miniseries. i have a lot of mixed feelings about this because i LOVE all the rictor stuff, the first issue codes shatterstar as autistic in a very characterful way, it doesn’t whitewash rictor for once, and the covers are GORGEOUS! but it also attempts to retcon a ton of star’s emotional backstory AND arc set out in xforce, casting a black woman as his emotionally manipulative ex. also star is a landlord (ew). my advice with this one is to treat all the flashbacks as not-really-canon since they suck.

star appears in extermination (2018) #3-4 and gets mind-controlled into trying to kill the time-displaced teen o5 (timetraveling baby cable is trying to put them back where they came from), and the art looks great and i feel really bad for him. rictor makes a follow-up cameo in uncanny x-men (2019) #9-10, where you can see that he’s at the school in order to visit shatterstar since he’s with cecelia reyes. he then goes to fight nate grey/x-man, where he gets sucked into the age of x-man pocket universe/event.

around half the xmen get trapped and brainwashed in that pocket universe where there is no love or family, merely friendship and comradery (it’s an attempt by nate grey to ‘fix’ the xmen by getting rid of all the soap opera stuff - it’s a bit meta wrt how xmen are the soap opera superheroes). there are a couple different titles for this event: rictor appears in age of x-man: x-tremists #4-5. people have mixed feelings about this title due to the gay characters (northstar and iceman) enforcing no-romance laws that very intentionally parallel anti-gay laws from real life, but rictor is just chilling and running an illegal romance movies theatre, and then he gets drunk and then starts a riot and he’s just delightful in this.

everyone outside of the pocket universe thinks everyone who disappeared was killed. shatterstar is part of the team in x-force (2019) (there are two 2019 x-forces: this is vol 5, written by ed brisson) who are trying to track down young cable (baby cable, or “bable”), who killed older cable, who formed good old 90s xforce. boom-boom is the best part of this entire run, hands down. the art is expressive and interesting but i Hate how they draw warpath (the one time he’s free from comic book limbo!). shatterstar is in full “i only like fighting please let me fight i am a difficult asshole” mode, and talks about grieving rictor in #7 and #10. this is never really resolved since age of x-man is thrown over for hoxpox (BIG status quo changes & current era of xmen comics), but aside from my little ricstar heart i can’t really mind.

rictor is currently appearing as part of the team in excalibur (2019), and has been very... cozy... with apocalypse. at the time of writing (halloween 2020), it’s very heavily ambiguous what exactly their relationship is besides “intense” and i still have no clue what to think about it. he and star have been stated by the writer to be exes, but i also know tini howard is a ricstar fan so im holding out for good things! and it’s cool that rictor is getting a ton of focus and a lot of powering up. i remember reading xfi #1 and being amazed at how rictor described how soul-deep his earth powers were and wanting more of that, and excalibur has that for him in spades. (i am still withholding a lot of judgment wrt rictor’s writing in excalibur until i see how things pan out)

after reading to excalibur #12, switch over to x-factor (2020). read the first three issues because i love northstar and prodigy and rachel. please ignore a couple cringe comments towards poor daken. shatterstar appears in #3, trapped on mojoworld, getting traumatized, and breaking my heart as i write this. that last data page... free my boy!!!!

after x-factor #3, read x of swords: creation. more rictor and apocalypse being Close. after that, read x-factor #4 for apocalypse being very Attached to rictor, and then rictor looking very good and freshly resurrected. then continue reading excalibur. in may, x-factor is going back to mojoworld!!

that’s all there is so far! i think within the next year there will be even more content for us, and im very eager to get to that content. i will update this post as things come out.

#ricstar #xmen #rictor #shatterstar #julio richter #chirps #anonymous

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secretcircuit · 3 years

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march manga reading list

i did a post abt my ongoing/future reading list but only included novels/nonfiction, not manga! so i want to also note what i am currently reading + want to read :) under the cut!

ongoing/caught up - witch hat atelier!!!!! (also known as tongari boushi no atorie, hence my tag “tbna” if youve seen that and wondered what it was about.) I LOVE WITCH HAT ATELIER. it has some of the most stunning art i have ever seen in all my life and the character writing is incredible. highly recommend. if you like fascinating fantasy worldbuilding, excellent art, and characters (many of whom exude Gender) ... i recommend giving it a read! i first read it bc of a wonderful meta post abt disability themes in the series and it has since overtaken my life in the best way. anyway!!!!! thats it

currently reading

death note (im like 20 chapters in?) -- reading because it is a COMEDY. god it is so fucking funny. there’s no way it was meant to be. but like. the (accidental?) comic timing of the paneling is just too good. i’d never actually read it before this and didn’t know who L was vs Light lmao. all i knew was the cool apple demon. anyway

jujutsu kaisen -- started it because i love some good shounen hijinks. i cannot resist shounen hijinks! actually, im kind of lying. the reason i started it was i saw a post describing gojo as having a “high on bath salts personality” and that cinched it for me

a silent voice -- i am trying to re-learn how to read basic japanese, so i figured it would be good practice to read slice-of-life manga written for kids (the furigana helps me so much lmao). honestly, it’s been great practice. i found a site called bilingual manga, which allows you to toggle between japanese + the eng translations, so i can try and see how much i can comprehend and then see how much i got. i’ve also learned a bunch of new words just by reading, so it’s nice to strengthen my vocabulary that way too. i can’t really comment on the story too much because im reading so slowly that im only on chapter one!

planning to (re/)read

2021 is the year of Fullmetal Alchemist (it’s its 20th anniversary which is bonkers) so i am planning to do a reread. i started earlier in the year but then got distracted by other stuff. still, i’m hoping to do a complete reread! i haven’t read the full series since it first finished publication back in 2010, and i never finished watching brotherhood either, so i’m excited to reread.

dungeon meshi -- i’ve started it! but i started it right around the time i read witch hat (all in one day lol) & didn’t get very far because i spent the next week rereading witch hat lololol. BUT. i am really excited to read it! i should honestly make it take precedence over jjk in the reading list but... here we are. anyway!

mushishi -- i loveeeeee mushishi. i’ve read and watched it sporadically throughout the years, but i want to read the manga start to end. it’s really gorgeous and atmospheric and i, a lover of odd bugs/creatures, love the world of mushi so much. plus i gotta continue my Year of the One-Eyed White Haired Anime Man* (* i know witch hat is not an anime. but it rolls off the tongue)

anyway, i don’t know how regularly i’ll keep up with updating these things, but i like to track my reading progress/habits and i don’t always update stuff on goodreads for various reasons. thank you for reading if you read this far!!!!!

#katertalks #kt reads

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rawbiredbest · 5 years

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It’s All in Your Head

Contains: Fluff, Angst, Unconventional Relationships, Telepathy, Demons Fandom: Marvel (comics) Relationships: Stephen Strange/Victor von Doom Characters: Stephen Strange, Victor von Doom, Wong, Boris Word Count: 6103

Out of the blue, Stephen Strange and Victor von Doom find themselves telepathically connected.

No squealing, remember that......

Content warning for canon typical violence, profanity, implied sexual activity, and a single usage of homophobic language by a very bad individual.

Graciously commissioned by @osheets! Wanna do the same? Check my info!

Read here or on AO3!

- - -

The breakthrough comes with rapturous spontaneity. It’s like Victor von Doom has been standing on the shore of a Latverian loch, and in the blink of an eye, the grains of sand have become an orchestra, the surf their masterful conductor, and he the sole audience. He has captured their forms in glass and steel, multiplied ten million fold in the casings of complex machinery, and the entire laboratory sings the path to a bolder, brighter future. In all of his years of experimentation, innovation, desperation, he has never heard this music before. It pours from every screw and bolt, vibrates along every copper wire, thunders out of every piston and valve. The engineers below him, controlling and monitoring the device, are Gods of melody and time. Doom himself has transcended divinity, rising high on sublime notes of praise. He is Emperor, Encapsulated Universe, and his feet do not touch the floor as he glides to the heart of his machine, his veins coursing with silver beauty. Hydrogen atoms dance into the arms of their palladium partners, and their heat is love, love for each other, love for nature, love for him, and it is a primordial force unlocked from decades of ridicule and shame, and he has set it free. Genius. Monarch. Ultimate.

And then it goes. Slowly, a receding tide. It slides from his bones, leaving them aching. He braces himself against a panel, cold sweat sticking to his brow. His heart hammers in his chest, a lone drum holding a marching beat long after the band has departed into the moonless night. The engineers gape at him, oblivious to the miracle that has deafened their ruler.

Doom touches the shielding glass of the operating CMNS reactor, and its vibrations are an idiot hum. He blinks salt from his eyes, breath condensing on the machine.

Four thousand, five hundred and six miles away, a doctor and his best friend leave Madison Square Garden, wearing concert merch, beaming like loons.

- - -

To Stephen, it’s a tsunami.

He’s watching TV. The nightly news. He could tap into the Eye and view the entire world as it turns, but he doesn’t want to. It isn’t very often he feels human, let alone vegetable, so any opportunity to vegetate he takes with gusto. Stretched across his couch, he tugs down the hem of his shirt, leans his head on his hand, and waits to absorb the country’s woes.

He gets a sharp pain on the nape of his neck instead. He swats at the spot, looks at his palm. “Ow.”

Wong looks up from the email he’s writing. “Are you okay?”

Strange frowns, settles back down. “I think there’s a mosquito in here.” They’re talking about the Amazon fires. Stephen’s heart aches for the birds who will drop from the sky, their lungs full of smoke, voices forever silenced.

And then pain rips down his back, like his spine is torn out by an iron hand from his neck to his waist.

He can’t help but yell then, clutching the cushions. A heavy ache lingers in his vertebrae. Gingerly he sits up, breathing hard, eyes clenched shut. Something a bit like petrichor, a bit medicinal, a bit hot fills his nose.

Wong runs to him, but Strange raises a hand. “I’m fine,” he says, though he already braces against the thick lump rising next to his heart. As it crests, it dissipates throughout his body. He forces his eyes open, expecting to see the black trails of tiny spiders beneath his skin. Nothing but unmarked flesh.

“Should I call Doctor Carter?” Wong asks, thumbing toward the antique phone. It’s enchanted to call anywhere, anytime, any-plane.

“No, no.” Stephen leans on his knees, rubbing his temples. The pain is moving, changing. “This isn’t exactly her--”

--forte, he wants to say, but he is cut off by trees. Huge trees. Trees that consume the sky in fractal tangles of evergreen. Primordial, pristine trees, the definition of trees. The little things that crawl beneath and flit between, some carrying light, some with rigid jaws.

It’s a psychic attack. Strange has weathered them before. This one is weird. As he waves for Wong to get the Eye, he endures the spikes of pain that impale his senses to grab a closer look. This entity is lumbering, gigantic in scope yet wet around the edges.

It’s being born, he realizes. It’s waking up.

It hurts, it hurts but he’s curious. He sees New York now, its spires and streets lined up like so much circuitry. He feels the rough brush of concrete, hears the car horn concerto, smells the burn of rubber, and all throughout are rules, parameters, reasons. The thing is learning, feasting on information, and gathering more at an exponential rate. A tidal wave of green descends on the city, picking and plucking at this imaginary world.

And as it eats, thousands and thousands of hungry mouths devouring America, it hates. It hates the excess, the cruelty, the inefficiencies. It roars, barreling down the Sanctum, thousands upon thousands of tons of incomparable loathing.

Wong presses the Eye into Stephen’s hand.

“Pardon my French, dear friend,” Strange says.

The Eye bursts open, and the Sorcerer Supreme throws every ounce of his mystic might at the slavering invader. The living room cascades with dancing whorls of light as he raises his arms, funneling a solar flare, and cries a spell that every New Yorker knows by heart.

“FUCK OFF!”

Utter obliteration. When he opens his eyes, glittering motes trickle from the ceiling. The pain is gone. The TV has gone to commercial.

The phone is ringing.

Wong answers it as Stephen sinks to the couch. He slips the Eye around his neck, and its weight comforts. He thinks he’ll sleep with it tonight.

“It’s for you.”

Strange massages his ear. Vulgarity is embarrassing, but faced with an immaterial infant in the depths of an unholy tantrum doing everything in its power to cram a fork in a magic electrical socket, seemed like a good idea at the time. He takes the phone. “Hello?”

“Doctor! The master -- Victor -- something has happened, I do not know-- I--”

“Boris?” Stephen sits up. “Boris, it’s all right. Slow down. What’s going on?”

Behind the old retainer’s words, a siren wails. “The master--” He hesitates. “His newest Doombot. He turned it on for the first time. All was well, and then it exploded! And now Victor -- he is breathing this flame, this plasma! It burned through his mask! Doctor, what do I do!?”

Strange inhales deep. Counts to three. Lets it go. “He’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I do not mean to doubt you, but--”

“It will pass. Give him an ice pack and put him somewhere dark and quiet for a few hours.”

“I trust you, doctor, but please, when you can, come and see him. The violence of it, it scares me.”

“I know. It’s fine. Just something he ate.”

Boris thanks him and hangs up.

Stephen wishes the couch would eat him as he heaves a sigh. “Wong,” he asks, “Is it too late to rescind discovering my bisexuality at the ripe age of however old I am now?”

“I don’t know,” Wong replies, “To both parts of your question. I lost count in the five hundreds.”

Strange curses again.

- - -

“So. We have a telepathic link. Any idea how it got there?”

He may as well be speaking to a wall of granite. Doom, arms folded, sneers at him across the table.

Stephen links his fingers together. “I have nothing. It’s rather disconcerting. I don’t believe it’s malevolent, which is always a plus, but it’s unremarkable, which isn’t. So I’d appreciate any insight, Victor. Whatever you’d like to...you know. Get off your chest.”

Doom’s eyes are cold.

“Anything at all. Need to vent? I know you can get heated.”

The table weighs over three hundred pounds, yet Doom flings it at him like a feather. Strange cuts it in half with a bolt of solid light as Crimson Bands constrict around his other arm. They serpentine and splinter into smaller tendrils, their tips unhinging into fanged blooms, and a thought comes to Stephen as the king charges him: he was born in a forest. It’s nature’s fury that fills his head, a cacophony of hellish noise, the wild hunt calling for his spilled blood. Doom’s rage in concentrated, psychic form, howling down their link.

The Daggers of Denak, blades spinning, do an admirable job trimming the vines, their severed heads still snapping, and Strange summons the Winds of Watoomb to push Doom away. The gale staggers him yet he presses forward, arcane runes flashing a ice blue aegis on his gauntlet. Step by step, forcing him back towards the wall.

He lunges. Strange is ready for it. Doom’s arm comes up, Stephen’s arms fan out. Before the king grasps his throat, he calls a pair of razors into his palms. Victor’s grip is suffocating. Strange holds his head between two guillotine blades. An impasse.

Doom’s voice rasps, thin and scorched. “That. Hurt.”

Stephen sips the tiny breaths he can. Something’s pressing into his belly. Sweat beads on his brow. It’s a gun. It’s the stupid gun Doom carries in the stupid pouch on his stupid belt. Why does he even have it? For shooting idiot sorcerers, he thinks. He swallows hard, knows Doom can feel it through the metal. Not so evenly matched as he thought.

And then he notices it. Hiding deep under the screams is a layer of fire. Reaching through the link, he touches it. Color rushes to his cheeks.

“Seriously?” he ekes out, “This is turning you on?”

Doom’s grip loosens. A minuscule amount, enough for Strange to squeeze a few more words. The fire leaps into his psychic palm, eager, aggressive.

“There’s no shame in it. You’re good at what you do, Victor. Very few people can put me in check. Look at you. You’ve pinned me to a wall like a butterfly. That’s impressive. I--”

The king leans closer. Stephen smells ashes on his breath.

“Hoary hosts.”

The gun is holstered. A steel thumb strokes his cheek.

“Reap what you sow,” Doom mutters.

- - -

The aches and bruises will last for days, but the coolness of Doom’s armor against the carpet burn on his back is soothing. He rests a hand in the king’s own. Anything else feels too strenuous. “Was that your first time having telepathic sex? It’s intense, isn’t it?”

Victor takes in the state of the room. Paintings smashed, furniture so much firewood, stone walls fractured and cratered. How much destruction is his? He has no idea. One or the other had to have held back. The castle is still standing, after all.

Neither man speaks. Stephen ventures a glimpse down their link and gets only an image of black curtains. Doom’s already set up defenses. Though some of his own are raised, he lets some satisfaction flow between them. An olive branch.

A quiet, amused huff. “At times, Strange,” Doom says, and already his voice sounds better, “Your physical merits outweigh the strenuous mental exertions you put me through.”

“I never much cared for the medieval aesthetic myself, yet here we are.” He grunts as he looks over his shoulder, thighs twinging. “How drunk were we that night?”

“Doom was sober.”

“Oh no, your golden goblet saw plenty of refills. You were, at the very least, tipsy.”

“You question Doom’s memory?”

Stephen cups his chin, looks deep into dark brown eyes. “I question, my lord, why you claim to remember, with crystal clarity, a night you could have easily decreed never happened at all.”

Nothing comes. No biting remark, no caustic humiliation. Doom only holds his gaze, and under the black curtains flashes something bright, something strong. It lasts for only half a second before the king gets up, using Strange’s shoulder for support. “This link shall be insufferable. Do your part to get rid of it.”

Stephen frowns, annoyed that his legs work. He wonders if Victor left any of his clothing intact. “Right. Ground rules. Stay out of my head, and I won’t make you cough up another star. Deal?”

“Stay out of Doom’s head, and you shall not know pain unending. You have a deal.”

- - -

This lasts for two months.

- - -

On Day 51, a current of malicious satisfaction slithers through Strange’s mind. Gooseflesh rises up his back. The half-chewed wad of pastrami and egg in his mouth goes sour. He spits it out, bracing himself on the dinner table, and without thinking of thinking, he thinks: what have you done now?

The smirk on Doom’s face reminds him of the crocodiles at the Bronx Zoo. The thing Victor is smiling at reminds him of shop class. He can’t begin to make heads or tails of it. Like many of the king’s devices, it could have come off the set of a sci-fi movie. Sleek and chrome, rigged with multicolored wires, pumps, and gauges, a porthole reveals the heart of the machine, a vile purple light. Stephen’s gut tells him that color would eat him alive if it could, tear into his flesh and drip his blood from its teeth. Stephen trusts his gut.

Strange, Doom replies, smile quickly fading into a scowl, We had an agreement.

You broke first. I felt you. My spidey sense tingled.

Victor’s gauntlets ball into fists, and he sends a wave of serrated anger barreling toward the magician. A chained wolf, barking and snarling. An executioner waiting for the condemned to dig his own grave deeper.

Stephen curses. He didn’t mean to think that out loud. Look. Just tell me what it is and I’ll leave you alone.

The black curtains rustle, then lift like a wing. Swimming in the purple light are mathematical equations, coiling around metal rods. It makes perfect sense to Doom, but to Strange it’s a form of gibberish undecipherable by any eldritch tome.

Then he hears it. It’s not coming from the machine. It’s from Doom. Subvocalized lyrics. A silent song. He could recognize the tune anywhere.

He bought its album at the concert.

This is cold fusion.

Stephen snaps back to attention. Cold fusion. Should I be worried?

Victor folds his arms. That I built a safe, eternal form of energy for myself and my people? Yes, Strange, cower and quake. Your country shall never have it so long as I draw breath.

There are many dangerous rebuttals to that he could say. Names he could drop. Yet Doom promised pain unending. Fifty-one days into their connection, Strange has no leads into its inner workings. Finding out if he could make good on his word is a risk Stephen is unwilling to take.

I don’t like this, the sorcerer thinks, but I have to believe you. Don’t misbehave.

His own mental defense is a never-ending subway express train, its doors and windows a veil of golden thorns. Sighing, he sits back down. What’s left of his sandwich has the appeal of wet newspaper.

Doom was right. The link is awful.

- - -

On Day 60, despite the blazing fire in the hearth, Victor’s feet send ripples through a puddle.

He regards it from his antique armchair throne with indifferent curiosity. Through the filters in his mask, he smells the green, pungent scent of foliage rot and seawater. In the puddle itself swim millions of plankton. A frenzy of eating, fucking, dying, and birthing unfolds beneath his alloy soles.

From the corner of his eye, he watches the puddle extend an arm of water across the floor. Sliding under a wall, a line of slithering damp turns the paint a moldy gray. Moisture fans across the entire side of the room in a pattern like falling stars, like skeletal hands trailing through a river. The scent grows stronger as the puddle expands. He rises before it consumes his chair. The leather sinks until it is a speck of mahogany in the brine. Gloom washes over it and it is gone.

Doom folds his arms. A breeze teases the tail of his cloak. Murmuring a quiet word, he puts out the fire with an arc of a finger, and turns around into another world.

It is eternal night. It has no sun, and what few stars can be seen are lucky glimpses through a lush canopy of branches and black, web-like leaves many hundreds of feet above. The grass under him has a sticky grip, but gentle. If grass could want for anything, it would like to give the king safe passage on his journey. He isn’t the sustenance it’s looking for. That comes on the wind, in the form of tiny shards of detritus falling from forest layers high overhead. It shimmers as it tumbles down, the only source of light in this hadal garden.

He doesn’t need to go far. Half-concealed behind a root far taller than he, Doom watches himself and Stephen Strange on the next mound over.

The magician talks with grand gestures, sweeping an arm over trees as dark as ink. Doom remembers himself speaking little, allowing Strange to tell him the highlights of the world. No recorded examples of predation. Negligible changes in evolution for millennia. A slow world. A place of peace.

Stephen steps into the water. Waist deep, he holds out his arm. His garb drips off him, revealing pale skin. He smiles, bare and inviting.

The other Victor undoes his belt.

“And you complain when I get you out of the house.”

Doom peers at the Stephen Strange sitting in lotus position beside him. “You drag me into your affairs with no concern for my well-being or sanity.”

“Please. The times you dig your heels in are cursory, at best. And then we end up doing things like this.”

Across the mound, the other king’s armor sits in a neat pile, and the two doctors stand in each other’s arms, their lips meeting and parting only to inhale.

Victor kneels on the grass. “Even you are capable of stumbling onto a good idea.”

Stephen’s lip curls upward. “I think about this often. This place is beautiful. This memory pleasant. I took effort not to broadcast this to you. My apologies if I disturbed you.”

Doom looks away. “You did not.”

“Oh? Your Royal Highness, we had an agreement.”

“Am I not allowed to reminisce myself?”

“Ssh. Meditate with me.”

He closes his eyes. Strange’s hand creeps into his own, and he lets it stay.

Perhaps he was wrong. The link isn’t so bad.

- - -

Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!

Stephen rolls molasses slow toward awareness. The bedroom is pitch black, swimming in unholy hour of the morning disorientation.

Your wife is in trouble!

He cracks an eye open, shifting in the sheets. “Clea?”

No! Your big green wife! Get up, right now!

Those aren’t his thoughts. It’s a voice he’s never heard before, coming from inside his head. He holds very still and feels something slither over his brain.

He snaps wide awake.

I’m sorry we have to meet like this, the voice says, but we must hurry. The whole world is at stake!

In any other circumstance, Strange would interrogate the voice within an inch of its life, but its fear is genuine. Swinging out of bed, he yanks some pants on, startles the Cloak of Levitation from of its own sleep, and pulls open a portal to Latveria.

Curse me for a novice! the voice squeaks, That can’t be good!

Enormous rends in reality drape over the castle. Shimmering in the air, some bisect the stone in clean, monomolecular cuts. One vomits a steady stream of magma, causing a massive fire in the castle courtyard. Through each of them Stephen sees other dimensions. Another hole fans out from the keep itself and drops a mass of red crystals that crush an entire rampart.

Please! Hurry!

Stephen slams the portal shut, imagines his destination, and wrenches open a new one directly to Doom’s lab. The room is bathed in sunset colors and thick, acrid smoke. At its heart lies the fusion reactor, which is now anything but cold. The purple light pounds waves of energy, reverberating off its containment and magnifying a new tear in the world.

Victor stands in front of the machine. His motions are jerky, abrupt, a marionette controlled by a mob of children. He lifts a twitching hand and the tear throws itself through the castle to join the others outside.

Sister-Brother! the voice cries, Stop!

Doom’s arms drop, strings cut. The voice that comes from his mind is higher than the other.

No, I don’t think so, it says, I think I’m going to continue. You’re more than welcome to burn.

“You’re the link,” Strange says.

Just figured that out now? Sister-Brother asks, Wow, Brother-Sister. You sure drew the short straw. My host is incredible. I’ve mapped every gyri and sulci in here and it’s gorgeous. I’d stay forever if I could. It’s almost a shame he has to die.

Stephen glares, raising his hands, fingers glowing with magic. “As Sorcerer Supreme, I command you to release Doctor Doom!”

The laugh that echoes down the link is nails on a chalkboard. You have no idea what we are.

“You’re playing with fire. You’re threatening the dimensional stability of all of Doomstadt. And when I find you, you’ll have hell to pay.”

This host has already seen hell, Sister-Brother chides, What better place to grow up than in a body demon-touched? Have you considered that I’m doing him a favor? This is how it plays out. This is fate.

Doom turns around without his mask.

A bloodcurdling shriek ricochets across Strange’s mind, his hand thrusts forward with a will not his own, and a thunderbolt connects with the king’s head. Victor flies against a control panel, smashing it with the weight of his impact. Groaning and creaking, the reactor starts to power down, sprinklers in the ceiling damping the flames.

His face, Brother-Sister whispers, Gods, oh gods, what’s wrong with his face...

Stephen contains his screams until he kneels at Doom’s side, hefting his body into his arms. The scent of burning meat fills his nose. He howls for someone, anyone, to help him, royal blood seeping onto his chest.

- - -

He awakens to the beeping of the heart monitor.

Doom feels like mountainsides have taken residence on his eyelids. Slowly sliding them open, he takes inventory. The room is bright, sterile, no windows. He’s propped up in a bed. His hands are bare yet weigh like continents. He looks to his left.

“Hello,” Stephen says.

The sorcerer looks terrible. Ashen skin, reddened eyes, a frown threatening to rip his mouth off. The clothes he wears belong to any servant of the castle. The hands clasped together between his knees shake worse than Doom has ever seen.

“You’re on a morphine drip. You’ve been unconscious for the past twelve hours. You’re in the castle. We set up a makeshift triage room. For a while...” He takes a deep breath, steeling his voice. “We didn’t know if you would make it.”

Doom thinks, and his head is wonderfully quiet.

“Thank every deity you know that your skull is almost as hard as your armor. You’re going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days, but the alternative...I don’t want to think about. And I got rid of the link.” Strange picks up a jar from a nearby stand. “Meet Brother-Sister and Sister-Brother.”

Floating in cerebrospinal fluid are two worms. One is storm cloud gray bracketed by navy blue. The other is dark yellow-green with flecks of red. Flat as ribbons and only an inch long, they give each other a wide berth.

“Pineal parasites,” Stephen continues, “Stuck to the undercarriage of our minds, learning how to be through our eyes. They talked together through us. Saw magic through us. Deciphered grand machines through us. And now they’re ready to go home. That’s what yours was trying to do. They were looking for a place where nothing changes and nothing happens because all who go there are hijacked and killed. Not such a good idea after all, was it?”

Doom blinks.

Putting the worms down, Strange digs his wrists into his eyes. “Victor, I swear to you on everything I am I had no idea. I thought you’d like it. I thought you could forget being so angry, forget the Four if only for an hour, and be happy. Now you--”

He stares at the door, fist to his mouth. Swallowing his heart, he says, “I’m bringing them back. They’re not at fault. They’re just following their life cycle. Despite what they’ve done, they deserve to live.”

Birds that will choke on ashes, he thinks, Countless trees turned to dust. No more. No more death.

“The best doctors in your kingdom are here for you. I’ll be back.”

“Doom will go with you.”

Victor’s voice is quiet but steady. Stephen shakes his head. “No. You’re in no shape to get out of bed, let alone travel dimensions.”

The monarch shuts his eyes. Heavy footsteps pass through the door. A doppelganger in emerald and steel, the Doombot bows its head to its ruler.

“Doom will go with you,” Victor repeats.

Strange blows a ragged breath. By Doom’s creased brow, that wasn’t easy. “Okay. Rest now. Don’t do anything until I return.”

Victor says nothing. Stephen waits until he drifts to sleep, presses a kiss to rough lips, and departs, robot in tow.

- - -

Q-4301 is indistinguishable from the real deal, from its ramrod straight spine to its folded arms, yet there’s no look of wonder in its lenses, no human, if royally restrained, sense of adventure in its copper and silicon heart. It doesn’t care about the bits and pieces of gold falling from the alien canopy, the grass patting its boots. It stares at Strange, emotionless, and that very lack of feeling gnaws at the pit of the sorcerer’s stomach.

They’re on the same black water island mound as before. He can pick out the tree Victor pressed him against from all the rest. Had the microscopic eggs that birthed the parasite twins been attracted to their sex, or had it been sheer luck? He doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know.

In his hand is a candle made from the blood of priests. “Do you have them?” Stephen asks.

Q-4301 lifts a corner of its cloak. Sewn into the cloth is a glass vial. Brother-Sister and Sister-Brother are inside.

Strange nods. “I don’t know if Doom programmed you to feel fear. Either way, let me do the talking. If all goes well, you won’t have to do anything.”

The Doombot says nothing. Taking a deep breath, Stephen snaps a spark between his fingers and lights the candle.

The world goes silent. The wind ceases, and so does the steady fall of golden bits and bobs. The grass curls into tight nubs. The only indication that time has not stopped entirely is the gleam of flame like an undulating eel on the surface of the water. Stephen’s breath is deafening in his own ears.

The voice that speaks is low and obsidian slick. “Well, well, well. Look what the fags dragged in.”

The demon, descending from the trees, blends perfectly into the dark. Its teeth are yellowed and pitted from a diet of rot. It moves on long, soundless talons. Its eyes are cherry red, pupils like mouths.

“Doctor Strange,” the khat murmurs, “You honor me with your presence. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re a cautionary tale among khat-kind, you know. A warning about too much power in frail, mortal meat. Like stuffing a sun into a stomach, it’s only a matter of time till it bursts.”

Stephen purses his lips. “Cut the shit. I have something for you.”

The khat’s grin splits up to its ears. “A gift? Is it your heart? Your humanity? Your soul? Please tell me it’s your soul. I would so like your soul.”

“Come closer and I’ll show you.”

The demon pads on water, leaving no ripples in its path. “Is it the thing beside you?” Nostrils flaring, it sizes up the Doombot. “Not the usual breed of lost lambs you lead to slaughter. What sort of lies did you tell it to follow you? An offer of redemption, perhaps? Anything desperate enough to flaunt about in a green skirt would listen to you.”

“Desperation is for the weak,” Q-4301 snaps.

Strange swallows the ball of curses on his tongue and hopes it doesn’t show. Doombots fall for bait. Exactly like the original.

The khat stops. “Everything has weaknesses. You were once a babe in your mother’s arms, no? Look at your companion. The Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, can barely keep a friend around, let alone alive. No, no, no, there has to be a reason he wants you here.” It lies on all fours, rests its cheek on its fist. “What sort of gift was it again?”

Stephen starts to speak. Q-4301 beats him. “The only gift a demon like you deserves.”

Red eyes narrow in amusement. “Oh, it’s too much for a single khat to bear! Let me call my brothers. We shall find out together.” Rising into a crouch, it takes a deep breath.

There’s still time to salvage the plan. Strange shouts, “Do it!”

Q-4301 lunges into the water, tears the vial from its cloak, and thrusts its arm out. As predicted, the khat opens its toothy jaws and swallows the punch up to the Doombot’s shoulder. Payload delivered, they need to flee.

The portal spell is halfway done when Stephen spots Q-4301 motionless.

For a second, the khat too is still. Then, beaming around the steel in its mouth, it bites, and tears Q-4301′s arm off.

No robot could replicate the spray of blood and scream in agonized terror.

Strange doesn’t realize he’s also screaming. The khat snatches Q-4301′s shoulder and slams it beneath the surface. The water boils in the struggle. Shadows like hellish stalagmites reach for the leaf-choked sky as the sorcerer calls his magic. Black muck splatters the trees, the grass, Stephen’s legs as he gathers flame in his shaking palms.

The blast turns the water to steam as the garden sees more light than it has in billions of years. He looks for a target, finds nothing but the bare riverbed quickly flooding to fill the void.

The khat geysers up behind him, grabs his leg, and wrenches him into the water. The Cloak of Levitation has enough time to flip him face up before a heavy paw pins it down. Eyes stinging, heart hammering, Strange fends off the khat’s snapping jaws with novas in his palms. It takes all his training to anticipate where the teeth will be, vision obscured by plumes of bubbles, and not lose a limb.

Claws curl in his suit and drag him through the brine. His head connects with a tree root and all of reality goes sideways. His breath whooshes free, and sour liquid fills his throat.

The demon hauls him out, shoves him against a tree. Three blurry khats grin in Stephen’s eyes. Dozens of fangs.

“The gift is all three,” it says, “Your heart, humanity, and soul. Why were we ever warned about you? You’re nothing.”

It opens its mouth.

LEAVE HIM ALONE!

Stephen shakes water and blood from his eyes. The khat is frozen save its eyes, which widen in shock. Two voices erupt from its gullet. One, higher-pitched, screeches an incoherent string of profanity.

By the hoary hosts of Hoggoth, the other cries, I demand you let him go!

If he squints, Strange can see two ribbons in the khat’s belly. One yellow-green and red, the other gray and blue.

“What have you done,” the demon barks, “What have you done to me!?”

The claws pry open. Stephen beats a hasty retreat, flying to the unfinished portal. As he works to complete it, something moves at his feet. The grass scuttles bits and pieces of shattered human along pathways only it knows. He reaches down, grabs a fragment, and rage flows through him hot enough to make his skin glow, heat radiating from him in convection circles.

The khat breaks free of the parasites’ control, smashing its head against the tree for good measure. Screaming, it leaps for him. Strange sidesteps into another world -- home -- closes the portal, and waits until his ears stop ringing.

His anger he keeps. He storms through castle halls, eager to strike while the iron is hot.

- - -

Doom must really try this relaxation thing more often. It isn’t bad. Balcony doors open, letting in sunshine and a floral breeze, he reclines in his seat, sips his tea, and listens to the vinyl spinning on the antique phonograph.

I’m coming down, coming down like a monkey, but it’s all right Like a load on your back that you can’t see, oooh but it’s all right

The song has been in his head for months. It’s nice to hear it in the open. Doom smiles. Stephen has good taste in music.

“Bastard!”

The chair spins around and Doom is confronted by a feral magician. Strange notes the king’s simple garb: no steel in sight, just a cotton shirt and pants. He aims for Victor’s face but his quaking hands botch the throw. It bounces off his chest and lands in his teacup. “You’re not white!”

Doom looks at his tea. The blue eye in the tea looks back. “About time someone noticed,” he deadpans, extracting the orb by its optic nerve and setting it on a napkin.

The chair bucks like a bronco and Victor spills out. Stephen catches him with magic, hangs him in the air. The cup breaks into a thousand pieces and the king’s disappointed frown makes Strange want to throttle him. “Who was in the Doombot?”

“A nuclear engineer working on the CMNS reactor.” Doom sounds bored. “He tweeted about the parasite-induced euphoria I experienced. Called it an episode. Implications of weakness are illegal. Justice -- and the parasites -- were served. Two birds with one stone.”

“You killed a man for a tweet.”

“Whatever creature you encountered in the garden slew him, not I.”

Stephen drops him, relishing Victor’s grunt as a shard of teacup cuts his foot. It’s a slimy pleasure, and his face contracts. “Bastard. There isn’t an ounce of goodness in you.”

The king pulls the porcelain out of his flesh and points the bloodied end of it. “I have my ways just as you have yours. Until you grasp this concept, we shall always be at odds.”

“Be at odds? I saved your life!”

Doom brushes back his hair. Black stitches stretch from one ear across his head to the other. “You scarred me.”

They’re on thin ice. Strange dials back his fury, fists clenched. Monstrous tyrant or not, Victor is recovering from brain surgery. “You had a worm in your head.”

Tossing the shard aside, Doom sinks back in the chair in a position Stephen calls the regal slouch. “The sentence for weakness implications is community service. The engineer served his community. The sentence for injury to the royal person is death.” A scowl darkens his face. “I have half a mind to not let you leave this room alive.”

The sorcerer shuts his eyes.

“However.” Doom thinks, picking his words. “The extraneous circumstances surrounding the crime cannot be ignored. A different punishment is called for. It shall be made at a later time.” He draws a holographic display before him. A tigress pants in her den, lozenges squirming at her belly. “Three cubs were born at the Latverian Zoo this morning.” He looks at Stephen. “I find myself preoccupied with some wildlife conservation of my own.”

The sigh comes from the bottom of his heart. One day Victor will come out and thank him. Today is not that day. It will have to do. Strange rubs his eyes. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Speak.”

“Exile. A break. Another two months, or two years, or two hundred years. I’m not picky. I just don’t want to see you for a while.”

Doom looks back at the panel. “Your suggestion carries weight. So be it. Begone.”

That’s that. Another story concluded. Feeling empty, feeling light, Stephen turns to go.

“Strange.”

Fuck, so close. The sorcerer looks over his shoulder. “What?”

“When next we sojourn, for Doom knows we shall--” Victor’s lip turns up, the smallest hint of a smirk. “--I shall pick our destination.”

#doomstrange #doctor doom #doctor strange #victor von doom #stephen strange #rawbi's writes #commission a small bird

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eulerami · 5 years

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I hope this isn't too out of line of me, but I would really like to tell you that I adore your writing. I've only read Bite the Bullet but I love the way you show people interacting with each other and the environment around them. I really, really adore it so far, and it makes me sad to see you say your writing sucks when it's so good! I understand how it feels, but I wanted to let you know that I think you have some really amazing writing to share and I hope you can see that too! 🌻

Awww man, I appreciate you taking the time to say this.

This is kind of a rant with no direction, but I’ve been debating saying something for a few weeks now anyway. I just feel like I should put this out there someplace.

It’s just been harder than expected for me. I went from a fandom where there were so many toxic people over the course of like, four or five years, just waiting in the woodwork at every turn for me to have even a smidgen of doubt. I had to defend my ass at every freaking turn, for who-the-fuck knows what, (misplaced passion?) pfft.

Folk really get off on you showing any kind of insecurity, seriously. It got to the point where they so greatly outnumbered the genuinely nice fans that I’ve just got this gut reaction for nothing less than perfection, with a hard-ass mentality to go with it, all the time. To the point where I still feel guilty doing doodles or more carefree things. (Like it’s corrupting the source material, somehow. Integrity, and all that.) I have to grit my teeth and post it anyway. I still find myself taking shit down.

In that pursuit I’ve sunk all my energy into improving my art and making comics. So, when I came back to writing, I’m finding it extremely hard to get the creativity flowing because it’s so nerve wracking. I’m inspired, frustratingly so, but it won’t come out. My hands just, nope, they freeze and I end up procrastinating.

I’m used to every detail, word, etc, being so intensely scrutinized, analyzed, or ridiculed with underhanded commentary or shitty attempts at “humor,” from “friends,” that it’s just. Ugh. Literally every fucking post, at one point. Anons. Messages. Whatever. I turned anon off, but then I got in my head, no…maybe it’s constructive, this is what being a professional is.

I grew up with people constantly putting me down and I fought through that to get where I am, so this is just more of the same thing, right? It’s not progress if there’s no opposition, right? People are always going to act like they give a damn but in reality they just can’t wait to watch you fuck up, right? It’s okay so long as you’re aware they’re like that at all times, right? Fuckin Autism-brain.

Boy was that fucking stupid, don’t do that to yourself.

You improve too, years worth. Learn to paint. Learn to render. Learn typefacing, paneling, cinematography. Sink 12 hours at a time at the computer, learning everything you can with a burning passion. I have 400GB of space dedicated to PSD files. You emerge at the other end, overjoyed, ecstatic really, that you can make this with your own hands. You’re finally impressed with how it turned out–it looks amazing.

…Only for people to say, “I liked your older stuff better uwu. Dunno why, it was just fun.” Thanks! Fuck you!

When I was learning Zbrush, for example, the shitty comments were just, unreal. Like I’m learning, motherfuckers, let’s see you do fucking better. I was trying to learn how to sculpt the delicate ethnic nuances of different people, mostly indigenous people because I am really passionate about other cultures and making characters embody these features and histories.

It’s very important to me. Monolids here, broad cheekbones there–how often do you see 3D models on Artstation that aren’t 20-something white people? “Beautiful,” too, decked out to the nines with western-ideal supermodel builds and faces. I was trying to do something else. To make believable people.

Trying to find a new way to make Afro-Asiatic curly hair with Maya or Zbrush, without $10,000 in tools, etc.

I get shitty, borderline fucking racist comments left and right, disguised as humor, that are so blatant I’m wondering if I’m the one making my shit look like caricatures to make people say this shit to begin with, and if I’m being more insulting than appreciative. It was stressful.

But you can’t flip the fuck out on these people, unless you want to be brought up to the fucking gallows and put on blast. When you’ve got a passion project you’ve spent 4 years on hanging in the balance, on your public image, and you’ve been “cancelled” already in the past, it’s a lot of pressure. It wasn’t worth it.

I’m a little bummed out my writing isn’t what it used to be. I used to be one hell of a writer in college, crank out pages at a time, but that’s what I get for focusing on comics so long. RP instilled bad habits too.

Recently with this fic, even though it was just meant to be fun, I’ve already had some folks saying ehhhhh stuff. It’s got me down, not gonna lie. I think I’m done trying to keep a tough face about it. It’s made it hard to write my third chapter. I’m stumbling through a couple hundred words at a time, if that.

The comments just keep coming back to me, in my head, every time I go to write.

I’m glad to hear you liked it though. It’s not my best, but I am enjoying the story. The feeling behind it, anyway, no matter how clunky, OOC, grammatically incorrect, repetitive, or whatever the delivery is.

It’s just, damnit man, lol—can’t the damn thing be out for 5 minutes before the critiques roll in? I can’t catch a break. Maybe I’m overly sensitive, but I’m so fucking frustrated. But, yeah. Thanks again for taking the time to say something, it’s nice to hear and kicks me in the ass a little to keep my chin up.

It’s just tough to do when it’s been so freaking long of just nonstop BS, and even when I’ve been away from it for over a year now, it’s still left some pretty bad habits and unhealthy work-ethic regarding art and writing.

I can hammer out art like you wouldn’t believe, in a professional manner, but damn did it come at the price of my own joy and creativity. I’m trying to get that back. It is coming back, slowly, in the form of a kinda roughly written fic. I know that as I write it more, it’ll get better, until I’m back where I was. Hopefully.

#ugh yeah #that's why it's taking me so long I'm conflicted #it's real hard #to let my mind relax and let it out #and I forgot to mention thank you for reading it to begin with #dont mind this too im just in a shitty mood itll pass

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blschaos3000-blog · 4 years

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Its 3:52 pm

Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”

In doing this series and especially of late,I have been really blessed to be able to talk to a lot artists that I have on a “wish list”. These are people whom I really want to talk with but I don’t think I’ll get a chance to. Ashley Kate Adams was on the list. I first was introduced to Ashley Kate and her talent when the cheetah and I watched a excellent film called “1 Message“. Its a story about a young woman who gets breast cancer amd who is slowly falling into a deep depression. When the young woman meets a man online while tracking down her family tree,the connection changes her life on so many levels. This is a movie that I loved quite a bit and I thought Ashley Kate Adams did a great job in what I found later was her feature film debut and she was only 21 when she filmed it. Since then I have been following her career and chatting once in a while on Twitter. Last week I decided to take a chance and ask Ashley Kate for a interview and to my surprise answered “Yes,I do” within 5 minutes. While we were talking,I asked about her new big project,”Boy Hero” which is set during the 1954 Senate Comic Book Hearings and where publisher Williams Gaines and his legendary EC Comics were grilled because of the content. It was also during the height of McCarthyism and the Hollywood blacklisting,a dark and despairing time (as well as a forgotten period). As soon as we as a society are allowed ,Ashley Kate is kicking “Boy Hero” into high gear and we’ll be posting updates on how the film is progressing. * As you can see,Ashley Kate is a woman on the go,go,go!! I am so happy that we got a chance to catch her in mid-stride so she could slow down enough to answer her 8 Questions…….

Please introduce yourself and tell us about your latest project?

Hello! My name is Ashley Kate Adams & I am an actress, producer & writer living in NYC! Right now we are so excited to be introducing Frankie! The Musical Cast Concept Album to the world. It releases this Friday, May 29th, on Broadway Records and will be available everywhere music can be streamed. Frankie! The Musical (@frankiemusical) is written by 16-year old Composer and light, Elise Marra. The album is produced by AKA Studio Productions & Mitchell Walker! Our other main project is “Boy Hero”, a feature film inspired by the Comic Book Trials of 1954. I wrote the 1950’s period film which was inspired by a panel I saw called “When the American Librarian Saved Comics” by Carol Tilley. The film is rounding out development and will be Produced by AKA Studio Productions, Pigasus Pictures & AR Productions and will film in Cincinnati! Please follow us (@boyheromovie) for more exciting updates on fundraising development and production of the film.

(Michael Kushner Photography)

How have you been coping with Covid-19 pandemic? How are you staying creative and focused?

I have been thinking a lot about this recently. I’ve been coping with Covid-19 productively. I think many things prepared me for this, the main being thing being the sudden loss of my father in 2016 to cancer. During that time I had to learn to balance many things in conjunction with being completely gutted out with grief. During that time I turned to creating to heal myself and process my emotions so during this pandemic I have followed suit. I’ve actually been working at home with my production company since 2011 so that routine feels like a continuation. We were very lucky, we had just gotten many incredible projects like Frankie! in the can before it felt as if the world froze. Now these projects are able to bring joy to others during this time. On Friday’s I’ve been going LIVE with #BYOP to lead conversations on Grief & Productivity for the Creative @ashleykateadams on Instagram. It’s been important for me to try to help folks navigate this time!

When did you first catch the acting bug and what was the reaction like with your family and friends?

I don’t know if I ever caught the acting bug I was kind of just born into the industry. It is what our family does as our family business. You know some families might have a restaurant or a heating & cooling company, we are performers. My parents, who also majored in musical theatre in college (that’s how they met) were VERY honest with me about how hard my future was going to be to move to NYC and pursue this full-time but they knew it was what I was called to do. And I got to make space here for my sister 10 years my junior, Audrey Belle Adams, who recently began her adult career also based out of New York City.

How did you land the lead role in your first feature film “1 Message”? What three things did you take with you from the experience? How important is faith to you?

I actually landed my role in “1 Message” thanks to my father. He pitched me at a dinner meeting where the director happened to be. I then auditioned and got the role. That film taught me a lot. The first was that leading a film and being on camera 14 hours a day, 6 days a week is an extremely challenging job. Which leads me to the second thing, I learned how to treat actors on set. The “1 Message” experience is one that seeded in me the need to become an independent film producer to make sure I was always taking care of my actors in an extremely supportive way. Environment, transparency & discernment are everything on a project. The third thing I learned was how strong and aware I was even at a younger age on set. Faith is important to me. It is important to me to believe in something much bigger than yourself.

(Michael Kushner Photography)

Which do you like more? Doing TV/film work or live theater and why?

I love both equally but for different reasons. Right now I am very much falling deeper in love with film. I love learning and because I was raised literally at a theatre, in film there is still so much to learn for me. I love each new project on any side. It’s a blast to me navigating each nuance!

(Michael Kushner Photography)

What have been the three pieces of advice given to you in regards to being a performer?

Wow! Great question. “Your best secret weapon is yourself”. That was taught to me by the head of my musical theatre program at CCM, Aubrey Berg. He was correct. I would say the next is to “Be a kind person who people enjoy working with” from Sandra Rivera of Dancensation Studios and the most recent from this past winter break to “Keep saying yes to the right things and keep expanding” from one of my high school mentors, the great Gail Benedict.

(Michael Kushner Photography)

What roles challenge you most as an actress and how do you adapt to make the role yours?

Wheeew. For me the biggest challenge of my actor life was doing “A Christmas Carol(e)”, a one- woman show, directed & written by Alex Freeman. It was terrifying because it was only me on stage for 70 minutes. All I could do to survive it was to walk through it and continue to adapt. Every. Single. Second. I had to be truly present without a fourth wall. There was no protection, no sheen. I love hiding behind characters. I revel in it. It allows me space for courage to be more vulnerable. I’m a weirdo, my prep is usually reading, researching and then I adapt my breath and body. Everything else just kinda happens. The magic of acting!

How did the idea for #BYOP come about? What makes a good producer in your opinion?

#BYOP (Be Your Own Producer) came from seeing the need for it. As a producer, actor and creative I can only take on so many projects full time at once but #BYOP allows me to be available to you and your project on an hourly basis. It also teaches content creators how to producer so they can become sustainable and independent! During the pandemic it expanded to teaching these intentions in a group digital setting. The brand is continuing to grow and diversify. In development are many exciting new pieces, perhaps something you could listen to and something you can hold. Stay tuned and be sure to follow @ashleykateadams for updates! ! ; )

(Michael Kushner Photography)

You created a one woman show called “A Christmas Carole” for the theater, where did you come up with the idea and how hard is doing a one person production on a nightly basis?

I helped to create the show but I cannot take credit for the idea or writing on that one, that was my creative partner in crime, Alex Freeman. We put it up in 6 days with the help of our two amazing stage managers. It’s exhausting and exhilarating doing a one person production. I lived like a nun during the day to stay calm and preserve all of my energy for the performances. I still can’t believe I did it!

How important are awards to you as a performer?

Awards are not important to me as a performer, but the respect and nod that comes because of them is appreciated. I got my first best actress award in 2018 for Alex Freeman’s two-hander “Love” at the New York Theatre Festival. It’s hard being a woman in the business on every side. Especially as a Producer. So when a group of people decide not only that you “did well” but that you should be “acknowledged”, that is nice.

You love to sing,what makes a good song and which three Broadway scores would you love to sing if given a chance? Who is your favorite singer/band at this moment?

I do love to sing! It’s a part of my identity even though I’ve been more internal as of late with my creativity. I would say three Broadway scores I would love to sing through would be “Waitress”, “Sunday in the Park with George” and “The Sound of Music”. My favorite singer is my sister, Audrey Belle Adams @abelleadams, always and forever because she has the most flexible vocal instrument I have ever heard and my favorite band right now is M.N.O.P. @MNOP_music. They have rockin’ folk punk music, a kick butt lead female singer & a really cute drummer : )

How important is self-promotion to you and your career?

Self-Promotion is a large part of a creative career. In the age of social media & “influencers”, it has to be. I have not always been good at it. I had to learn to produce others to get comfortable producing & promoting myself.

What do you like to do on your down time?

In my downtime I like doing yoga, going on walks, listening to true crime podcasts, reading, taking class and spending time with my loved ones.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch to you in “A Christmas Carol(e)” but we are a day early and now you are stuck playing tour guide,what are we doing?

If A Christmas Carol(e) played NYC and there was a day off I would say to spend the morning in Central Park, afternoon around Bryant Park popping into the Strand Book Store & the Bean coffee shop and to spend the evening in the theatre district enjoying an OPEN Broadway. Late evening in the village hopping venues and listening to live music!

(Michael Kushner Photography)

I want to not only thank Ashley Kate for chatting with us but also for being inspired to make “Boy Hero”. I cut my fanboy teeth reading EC Comics growing up. When I read William Gaines bio and found out just how close that comic books were to being banned,it was shocking. Without Gaines and a slew of others,including many librarians fighting this censorship,there would no “Star Wars”,Marvel or DC or many cultural icons we take for granted today. Like I wrote before,this is a forgotten piece of American history and much respect to Ashley Kate and her production team on making this film to hopefully remind us of what we almost lost.

Ashley Kate has several different ways that you can keep track of her and her various projects.

You can follow Ashley Kate on her InstaGram page. You can check out Ashley Kate’s next project via her IMDb page. You can also follow “Boy Hero” on InstaGram as well. You can also visit Ashley Kate’s personal website by going here.

Thank you for reading and supporting (and sharing) Ashley Kate’s interview. Feel free to drop a question below and stay tuned for updates about “Boy Hero”. You can also read past “8 Questions” interviews by going here.

8 Questions with………..actress/producer Ashley Kate Adams Its 3:52 pm Welcome to "8 Questions with....." In doing this series and especially of late,I have been really blessed to be able to talk to a lot artists that I have on a "wish list".

#8 Questions With #actor&039;s life #Alex Freeman #Ashley Kate Adams #Boy Hero film #Broadway #Frankie the Musical #live theater #multi-talented #Music #New York City #Producer #singing

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hagarenmovie · 7 years

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AX 2017: Fullmetal Alchemist Live Action Panel Transcription

The Fullmetal Alchemist World Whirlwind Tour!! First stop Los Angeles!

| Transcription of a major part of the panel that took place on July 3rd, at Anime Expo 2017 in Los Angeles. Although the panel was listed as 11am to 12pm, it only actually lasted about 35 minutes since it started late and then ended a bit early in order to clear the room. Still, a lot happened in that short time! Here’s the complete transcription! Very Long Post!! |

- NOTE: the MC is Ken Ayugai from Tokyo. Mikey’s the interpreter. I cut their self introductions and their final remarks which let the audience know that the next stop on the live action promo tour was Paris.

- ALSO we weren’t allowed to film or take pictures till after the footage was shown and they were real strict about it, but I’m sure the live action team will release pictures and some footage after their world tour ends in Japan on July 12th, so we just gotta wait like a week.

Also check out: Description of scenes in the footage

MC: So first of all, I'm sure most of you are aware of this but I'm gonna run you through the history of Fullmetal, really quick.

Mikey: Just a little bit, so you guys, you know there might be some people who don't know Fullmetal Alchemist up here.

MC: So first of all, Fullmetal Alchemist is a popular japanese manga, which I'm sure you know, and it's written by Hiromu Arakawa and published in the monthly magazine Shonen GanGan from 2001 to 2010. And this series has sold over 70 million copies worldwide and there's been like a tv series in 2003 and 2009, the animated series. And the movie was in 2005 and 2011. And [when the] author gave birth to her children, she continued writing hoping that her kids would read it one day.

Mikey: Exactly, she wanted her kids to read this one day, so that's a really touching story, right?

MC: Yeah. And since the first anime in Japan was produced in January 1917, that's just like 100 years ago.

Mikey: Wow, the 100th birthday of anime! Wow.

MC: Yeah, in japan.

Mikey: I think that deserves an applause, right guys? 100 years. So i think, you know, so i think it's only appropriate that on the hundredth birthday of anime Fullmetal Alchemist gets a live action adaptation, right? Yeah?

*audience cheeeers*

MC: Ok so they [FA movie team] got a lot of offers from around the world and so the FA team has come to anime expo!

*audience cheers*

MC: Ok that's about it haha for the history.

Mikey: Alright.

MC: Alright, so what do you say, do we want to welcome up or - oh no, first we're gonna do the footage, right? Ok so let's take a look at the trailer first of all!

*audience cheers*

{the latest trailer released on april 6th is shown to the audience}

MC: And now let's welcome our special guests!

*audience goes wild*

MC: Let's give a round of applause. from the live action cast Ryosuke Yamada

*fangirls lose their shit as he walks on stage*

MC: And director Fumihiko Sori!

*Director Sori comes on stage as the screaming continues*

MC: A big round of applause for our guests please!

*audience calms down*

MC: [to Yamada] Alright so first of all, would you like to say hello to the crowd?

Yamada: *testing the mic* hah, hah. [He introduced himself in English] Hello everyone, I'm Ryosuke Yamada playing Edo! thank you for coming today. Please enjoy!

*cheers*

MC: thank you. and Mr. Sori.

Sori: [in English] My name is Fumihiko Sori and this movie's director and please enjoy.

MC: Alright! So, welcome to anime expo

Sori: hai, thank you

MC: please be seated. So we're gonna ask you a few questions, first of all welcome to LA and how's it been so far?

Yamada: *tries to talk into the mic but it doesn't work and makes derp faces*

*audience chuckles as MC gives his own mic to Yamada*

Yamada: [Mikey's Translation = MT] Well, it is really warm and everyone's really nice to me so I'm really enjoying my time here.

Sori: [MT] I love LA! I've been--I lived here about 20 years ago i wanna say.

MC: So is it any different from 20 years ago?

Sori: [MT] I don't think it changed that much in 20 years

MC: Ok, so still the same good ol LA?

Sori: [in English] It's great, yeah. I love LA!

MC: So, looking at this huge crowd for you, how do you feel right now? 'Cause for Anime Expo it's the first time to actually have a live cast come on stage, I guess

Yamada: [MT] I mean, I'm really happy and proud to be Japanese right now, to see the crowd you know. this room is full of fans who love and share japanese anime and content so I'm really happy

MC: ok. and Mr. Sori can you tell us what led you to create this live action version of this manga that has so many fans?

Sori: [MT] So as you guys know, a lot of american comics have been adapted in live action formats, and you know and it's really really cool as i see it, watching from where i am. and you know, we have a lot of good content, a lot of good properties and stories in Japan, but we haven't really had the chance to do a live action adaptation at the level and quality i really wanted to, but i feel like finally we're at a point where it's ready.

MC: [to Yamada] So how did you actually feel when you got offered this role?

Yamada: [MT] So you know, i'm not really tall per se and when i got this offer i was like, 'maybe it is kinda cool being chibi sometimes'

MC: Ok, during [playing] Ed there must have been so many challenges

Yamada: so i mean, of course the performance itself is one thing, acting as Ed, but i think the hardest part was Alphonse, you know he's done in full CG so all my acting i have to do kind of not looking at anything really so all the acting really came down to my relationship with Alphonse there.

MC: Ok so, we would like to just... go on to the footage maybe?

Mikey: You guys wanna see some footage?

MC: Ok, and as mentioned before, no cameras please. No phones or otherwise we have to stop, ok. Let's ask Mr. Yamada to cue [the footage].

Yamada: nihongo de shitsurei shimasu. Kore dewa goran kudasai, dozo. [translation: I'm sorry for the Japanese. Now, here you go, please watch.]

MC: Let's take a look at the footage!

*footage rolls. it's like 6 solid minutes and the audience goes through a rollercoaster ride of emotions*

MC: Alright! [to Yamada, translation:] What did you think of that reaction?

Yamada: I was really happy to hear you guys' reactions throughout that. We were listening back there.

MC: so first of all, i understand that filming started in Italy in June 2016 so why did you choose Italy actually.

Sori: So of course the first work was set in a sort of European city and there wasn't really a specific country but after going through Europe we found that Italy had a lot of really good backgrounds and scenery that we liked for the movie.

MC: Ok, so Mr. Yamada, what was it like, you're actually acting a role which is not quite Japanese...

Yamada: [MT] So the original work of course is written by a Japanese mangaka so i really didn't have too much resistance trying to interpret and understand what kind of character we were doing but there was of course fear in the back of my mind as I was acting so i mean, i hope you guys all saw that footage and didn't really feel anything weird, did you?

*audience cheers, many yell out 'Nooo, you're perfect!!'*

Yamada: [in english] Thank you!

MC: And I have a question for Mr. Sori, what was it like actually, for you, working with Mr. Yamada?

Sori: [MT] Well he is a professional through and through and it made my job really easy to be honest, i didn't have to give him too much direction, he just got what i wanted how i wanted the character to be portrayed and a lot of the action he did himself -- all of the action he did himself, so that made us really really--

Sori: [in English] No stunt, no stunt!! (Director Sori said this while Mikey was interpreting)

Sori: [MT] No stuntman here!

MC: that's amazing!

Yamada: arigatou gozaimasu

MC: you got a big one in the face [during the footage, while Ed's running away from the transmuting walls that attack him like giant pillars, he ends up running into one face first]

Yamada: [MT] That was harder than it looked because i had to react to basically nothing right there

MC: so how does it feel like, what do you think about it [the footage]? Actually when you looked at it, that footage.

Yamada: [MT] So when i was acting and portraying the character, i had an idea of what it was going to look like, but seeing it kind of put together with all the edits --it blew my mind and it was way beyond my expectations, i really have to thank the director and all of his awesome skills so thank you very much director.

MC: And throughout the film.. actually when you were filming the film, your brother isn't actually here but did you feel him here or what was that like?

Yamada: So while I didn't actually get to see Alphonse in front of me the actor portraying him was next to me acting on his behalf, so as we progressed through production, more and more i started to see him as Alphonse

*audience awws*

MC: And Mr. Sori, you've been using a lot of digital technology in this film. Could you tell us about that please?

Sori: [MT] So I mentioned that I lived in Los Angeles about 20 years ago, i think you guys remember that right? So i was working at a company called Digital Domain and i was actually an animator, a VFX animator there, and i worked on a little movie called Titanic which you might have heard of. And I learned a lot about VFX there so i took a lot of that skill, so my specialty actually lies in the VFX field so i came back to Japan and slowly kind of grew into the role of director and i always thought 'man i wanna take a Japanese IP or Japanese content and turn it into a very VFX heavy production and i think finally i had the chance, and now here we are back in LA 20 years later showing you guys this clip so i'm really really happy and proud to be here.

Mikey: And one more thing! (Director Sori wanted to add to his previous statement)

Sori: [MT] but that does not mean this is a VFX only movie and i think you guys, the fans, know that more than anyone, that this is a very story driven, emotional journey. [Sori in English] Yeah, everybody knows, yeah.

MC: One more question, so when you first met for this film, Mr. Yamada and Mr. Sori, what was the first thing you kind of agreed to focus on in creating this film?

Yamada: [MT] So I was always a huge fan of Fullmetal Alchemist and when I was offered this role i mean, of course i was really really happy and pleased, and at the same time when we went to Italy and production started, when we were on set and we kind of talked and met each other, i think there wasn't really any doubt in the direction we were gonna take the character and the production. i think it was really a very seamless transition from when we first took it from pre-production to production.

MC: [translation:] And Director, what about you?

Sori: [MT] I think it was the best combination ever, even looking back now, looking at all the actors and the talent in the world, i don't think anyone could have portrayed Ed as well as he has so i'm really really glad.

MC: Ok and now actually, we have a surprise for everyone. We have... the creator of Fullmetal Alchemist...

*audience starts going wild*

MC: ...We have a message from her and I'd like to read out the original actually, in Japanese so [to Mikey] can you help me out?

Mikey: We have a message from the creator and we're going to read it out to you guys right now.

MC: Ok. [he reads Arakawa-Sensei's message in Japanese]

Mikey: [Arakawa-sensei’s message interpreted:] So the manga I feel like is my child, I created it, and all these spinoffs and other iterations of it, the anime, the games, everything else that you take, it really feels kinda like my grandchildren, and here they are flying, leaving the nest, exploring, you know i'm really really proud to see them leave the nest like this. And I got to take a look at the footage as well. And it really felt like all these characters i created are there, present in our world. Ryosuke, the way you played Ed was so kakkoi. Everyone out there throughout the world, i hope you take really good care of my grandchild when he goes to see you!

MC: That was a message from Hiromu Arakawa. Ok and now we'd like to give it up to you guys and go into the q&a maybe. You guys have any questions? So if you have a question please raise your hand, okay. You look really ready (some guy in the first few rows was standing with his hand raised)

Mikey: Are we doing the mic? Are we having them line up or are we gonna run it? Ok, we're gonna line up so please if you have a question line up over here...

*a ton of people scramble to get to the mic, myself included*

Mikey: Ok, I don't know if we have that much time guys. Moderators help us out.

MC: Oh and about the cameras... We were worried about the footage, so yeah you can take photos if you guys want to

*audience goes crazy*

Mikey: Let's get started without further ado

Fan 1: [i know a lot of people here] ...have mixed feelings about this, but maybe 8-10 years down the line, what do you guys think [about an American movie remake]?

|I missed the complete answer to this one, but the Director was for it|

Fan 2: How did you come to the conclusion of like where in the manga or anime to finish the movie?

Sori: [MT] So in my mind I kind of consider this a part one and we have a really good book end to kind of bring closure to the movie as a movie so it can stand alone. But at the same time, if you guys like it and continue to support it, i don't see why there can't be a part two and hopefully beyond.

Mikey: Thank you very much.

Fan 3: Ok i have a question to Ed. Will there be a lot of like in the anime, like a lot of when you're fighting with Alphonse, there's a lot of jumping around. Do you think you can do that? Or is it not possible?

Yamada: [MT] All I can tell you right now is please look forward to the action, there will be a lot of action, not only when i fight against Al, but with him alongside me so I can only tell you to stay tuned and look forward to it.

Fan 3: Alright, that's cool man! Thank you.

MC: Thank you.

Yamada: [in English] Thank you.

Fan 4: Hi Yamada, hi director. I have a question. So my question is what was the weirdest thing or thing that stood out to you while filming in Italy or during your time here, in LA?

Yamada: [MT] So this is my first time appearing overseas in front of fans of the movie or of the anime so really your reaction as you saw the footage was kind of a really big pleasant surprise for me. It really made me feel like it was worthwhile playing the part, you know, it was just a pleasure to hear you guys. A lot of times in Japan, people are most embarrassed and shy so they don't openly express that kind of emotion and you know it's just really awesome hearing you guys see that first.

MC: We're kind of running out of time so we’re gonna have maybe two more questions. We’re very sorry.

Mikey: I'm very sorry guys, two more questions. Yes we're running out of time, unfortunately.

Fan 4: Ok, so one) I made it. Yes, I'll ask my question real quick. Two) Thank you for the trailer, it was great. Saw a lot of characters that we all know and love, but there was two people I did not see in the trailer. I was wondering if Scar and Armstrong are gonna be in the movie, 'cause I didn't see them.

Sori: [MT] So I say look forward to seeing them in the movie, but also look forward to part 2.

MC: So this will be the last question, I'm sorry.

Fan 5: Hi, Yamada-kun, hi director. I want to ask a question to Yamada-kun. Before the shooting, did you prepare or practice anything for shaping the character of Edo?

[For the answer to this question, Yamada ran like Ed to show how Ed's running is different from his own and the audience cheered]

Yamada: [MT] So i think you guys remember the scene where I was running in the beginning, right? So a lot of times when Ed runs, he has a very unique way of running (Mikey not translating anymore:) I'm not gonna do it for you guys (back to translating) It's leaning back and running. And normally when I run, I would run leaning forward like a normal person so I think having the manga on the set and at the production was a large part, and we would always use it as kind of our guidance so we had all the scenes, you know, and obviously getting into costume having it there really really helps. So we wanted to stay true to the manga and that was I guess my technique to building the character.

Fan 5: arigatou gozaimasu

| Closing remarks |

Yamada: [MT] I'm very very happy and honored to be able to have a project like Fullmetal Alchemist that is so loved around the world being produced into a live action adaptation in Japan. So i hope that everyone around the world will be able to see this so thank you very much and yoroshiku.

Sori: [in English] I'm so happy now so please enjoy this movie!

(MC and Mikey end the panel.)

#fanreport #FMA Live Action #yamada ryosuke #sori fumihiko #AX 2017 #anime expo 2017 #interviews

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