#The Darcy/Doom fic that nobody asked for

[allwaswell16]

—Fics by allwaswell16—

[ 20 - 29k ]

When We Were Young (series) [E, 24k, farmer's market, fic post]

Part One: Sound Like a Song [E, 14k, fic post] In high school, Louis Tomlinson lit up Harry’s world like nobody else, even if Harry did most of his pining from the safety of his tightly knit circle of friends. Ten years later, Harry is ready to make some changes. He’s tired of having so many regrets and not taking charge of his life, and he still hasn’t forgotten how brightly Louis shines. He’s about to get a long awaited second chance. Or the one where Harry helps out at a farmer’s market and gives Louis free vegetables. Part Two: Look Like a Movie [M, 10k, high school, fic post] Louis lights up Harry's world like nobody else. Harry just wishes he could be brave enough to ever ask him out. Although Harry's high school life is fraught with anxious encounters, he gets by with a little help from his friends. Or a prequel taking place ten years before 'Sound Like a Song.' Featuring school dances, soccer games, overeager lab partners, crushes, and being ten years too early for the love of your life.

Scarred [E, 23k, omegaverse, fic post]

As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death.

Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

That's How I Know (series) [E, 21k, parrot, fic post]

Part One: That's How I Know [E, 19k, fic post] Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees. Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor. Part Two: Don’t Embarrass Me, Motherfucker [T, 1k, fic post] Harry comes home from work to find Louis and their parrot are up to something. A Darcy the Parrot time stamp

Dive (series) [E, 21k, famous/famous, fic post]

Newly retired football star, Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu. Along the way, he finds music, friendship, and love in the form of his pop star neighbour and the very fit movie star hiding out next door.

Part One: I Could Fall or I Could Fly [T, 4k, fic post] Newly retired football star Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu. As he begins to settle into his new house on the beach, he finds his life here to be very different than the one he left behind. His pop star neighbour likes to drop by unexpectedly, and there's a very fit movie star hiding out next door who seems to have developed a sudden interest in football. Part Two: Hanging On the Words You Say [E, 5k, fic post] Newly retired football star, Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu. California has been full of surprises, including a date with a very fit movie star, a songwriting session with a pop star, and the hope that maybe there is a life for him after football. Part Three: Before I Dive Right Into You [E, 4k, fic post] Newly retired football star, Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu. Dating a famous movie star is slightly more complicated than he first imagined, especially because Harry seems to be in hiding from his career, and he's about to find out they have something unexpected in common with their pop star neighbour. Part Four: Let Me Know the Truth [M, 2k, fic post] Newly retired football star, Louis Tomlinson has left Manchester for Malibu, and he now has a new life that includes surfing with pop stars and trying his best to keep up with his younger, fit, movie star boyfriend, Harry Styles. They may now be officially together, but Harry finds there's still a lot to learn about Louis Tomlinson. Part Five: Jumping in Harder Than Ten Thousand Rocks on the Lake [T, 5k, fic post] Retired football star, Louis Tomlinson left Manchester for Malibu and created an amazing new life for himself. He may have lost football in his life, but he's gained music, love, and friendship in return. He thinks it's a pretty great trade, although it's not without the occasional bumps in the road.

Wine Not? by abrighteryellow, allwaswell16, catfishau (dinosaursmate), crinkle-eyed-boo,  disgruntledkittenface, FallingLikeThis, jaerie, Justalittlelouislove, kingsofeverything, kiwikero, LadyLondonderry, Layne Faire, lululawrence, momentofclarity, orphan_account, phdmama,  QuickedWeen, Rearviewdreamer, red_special, SadaVeniren, taggiecb

[E, 20k, enemies to lovers, fic post]

Louis’ Wine Dive is a bar run by the people for the people. Wine Styles is a boutique tasting room that caters to a more highbrow clientele. When their worlds clash on a beautiful Charleston street, one of these owners may find that an ounce of pretension doesn’t stand a chance against a pound of perseverance.

I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) [E, 20k, monitor lizard, fic post]

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

[Back to masterpost]

[marblesarelost]

Change Your Mind, Change Your Life

                                         CHAPTER FIVE

Her throat was raw for the next two days from the strength of her scream.

Later, all Darcy would remember was her vision suddenly being covered by green, Doom whirling his cloak over her and turning, placing his body between hers and the blast. Thankfully, he didn’t throw her to the concrete floor and dive on top of her or anything like that; he probably ran about two twenty to two fifty, it would have hurt like hell.  Instead, though, strong arms encased in faintly glowing metal wrapped around her, holding her up as the floor shook.  “No, you are safe, I will not allow any harm to come to you,” he rumbled in her ear, and for just a second, half a second, she allowed herself to be comforted.

“But the others,” she protested, “they were sitting --“

“We will see what has happened to the Avengers in a moment, and you may call for assistance from whoever might be able to help.  For now, we must wait; there are still missiles being fired.”

“Who,” she choked out, “whoever did this, whoever did this, they have opened up such a goddamn can of whoopass…”  

“What an interesting idiom. And yes.  They have.  They have attacked a home where the King of Atlantis and the Lord Protector of Latveria were being treated as honored guests.  They will know the wrath and the fury of the Sub-Mariner, and of Doom.” The noise was dying down.  “I will release you in a moment; find cover. Three, two, one, go.”  His arms uncrossed from around her, the green falling away, and she could see the door to the common room.  

“Be careful,” she said, then ran forward, jerking the door open and heading through the kitchen into the TV room.  “FRIDAY, status report?”

“No known casualties at this time.  Mark 16 and RESCUE were initiated when Sir saw the incoming bogeys. All of the other Avengers dove into the pool as the first missile was fired.”

“Okay,” Darcy breathed. “Okay.  Where’s Steve’s shield, Friday?”

“Captain Rogers’ shield is in his quarters.”

“Emergency override his lock.  SHOCKER-Alpha-3-9-6SW,” she said, running for the elevator.  “Who else needs their weapons?”

“Falcon does not have his wings, and Hawkeye does not have his bow.”

“Damn it,” she sighed. “Do they have other weapons up there that they can use?”

“Currently, both are firing Glocks.”

“They need more than that,” Darcy muttered as the elevator door opened on the residential floor, and she ran down the hall to Steve’s quarters.  Opening the door, she saw the shield beside his couch.  Grabbing it, she headed out again.  “How heavy are Falcon’s wings, FRIDAY?”  Because the shield by itself was heavy enough she was having to use both hands.  “More strength training, Darce,” she muttered to herself.

“Hey Darce,” Sam’s voice sounded over the intercom system.  “Don’t worry about my wings, sugar, we’ve already got enough flyers out here to make things really interesting, especially since I’ve never worked with Doom or Namor.”

“You sure, Sam?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.  Does Clint want his bow and quiver?”

“Negative.”

“Oh.  Okay.  I’m bringing Steve the shield, though.”

“He’ll appreciate that; he’s pissed ‘cause he’s having to hide at the moment.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

She was upstairs again, and now she was pissed.  Oh, she was pissed.   She stopped at the door to peek out from around it, and her breath caught. War Machine and Iron Man were blasting the hell out of what appeared to be a red suit of armor, while Namor and Doom were busy kicking in the faceplate of another.  A third was being kept busy by Clint, Natasha, and Sam, while Steve stood helplessly fretting nearby, She-Hulk holding him back.

“Hey Rogers,” she shouted, stepping into view.  “Catch!” She threw the shield with both hands like a discus in his general direction.

“Lewis, you’re a lifesaver,” Steve called, leaping to catch the wobbling airborne disk.  He rolled as he came down again, jumping up and launching the shield at the armor that Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Falcon were firing at. It hit the chest mounted machine gun, bending it sideways, ricocheted into the side of the building, then back to Steve’s hand.

She-Hulk leapt from the building toward that armored attacker a split second afterward, making the jump, but barely.  She held onto the assailant, however, and started pulling pieces off of the armor, digging her strong green fingers into the suit, its defense systems all but useless against her.  Sure, she could be shocked.  Sure, it hurt.  But nothing like it would do to an unenhanced person.  Darcy watched, her mouth open, as she tore the faceplate away from the helmet, exposing a woman who couldn’t be much older than Darcy.  A single punch from She-Hulk was all it took to knock the pilot out.

What she hadn’t taken into account was that an unconscious pilot meant that the suit was going down, her scream echoing between the buildings as she and her foe plummeted toward the earth.  Namor left Doom to deal with their opponent, diving through the night sky as easily as he cut through water, and Darcy crossed her fingers. “Please,” she murmured.  “Please, please…”

A flurry of laser shots drew her attention back to the battle in the sky.  Doom’s opponent was giving it all he had, obviously, but Doom only hovered there, letting his unseen foe fire at him at point blank range. Until he had had enough, that is. “You have made a grave error,” he proclaimed, reaching out his hand a lot like Darth Vader’s force-choke.  The suit began to crumple, Darcy could hear it, the metal squashing and screeching as it folded in on itself.  “You have angered Doom.”

“Holy shit.”  Darcy glanced to the side to see Clint watching beside her.  “Why the hell didn’t he do that before?”

“I don’t know,” Darcy replied.  “Maybe you can ask him in a minute.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “Think I will.”  He looked down at his Stitch patterned swimming trunks. “Fuckers got a hole in my new trunks, too.”

“Aww.  I’ll patch it for you this weekend,” Darcy offered.

“You’re a treat, Darce.”

“Did Namor catch --“ she began, and Clint nodded.

“Yep.  Looked to me like he was controlling the fall rather than trying to drag them back up, though.  I gotta go downstairs and help collect them.”  His shoulders sagged.  “You did good getting Steve his shield.  That helped.”  He sighed, standing straight again as Black Widow came to stand next to them.

“Barton.  Let’s go.”  

“Wait,” Darcy said, quickly untying her sarong and handing it to Widow.  “Here.”   For a second, ‘Tasha blinked out of Widow’s face, then faded away again as she nodded, wrapping the sarong around herself quickly into a full sleeveless dress before jerking her head to the door where Pepper stood, her gaze fully on the battle still raging between Iron Man, War Machine, and the last armored asshole. Doom was slowly lowering the one he had subued to the now wrecked pool as the last red armored adversary dodged a blast from Iron Man and knocked into him, hard.  The heap of scrap metal, for that’s what it was now, dropped the last twenty feet in free fall as Doom surged forward from the impact, then turned around, purple sparks flying off of him.

“Coward!”  He thundered, and Darcy couldn’t see what he did next, but the enemy armor suddenly thrashed about in the sky, its limbs flailing wildly and likely painfully, as Iron Man and War Machine backed away in the air.

“Holy SHIT!”  

“Fuck my life, son, you shoulda done that earlier,” War Machine said.

“I could not; you and Iron Man were in too close quarters, and this would likely have affected your armors as well.”  The armor stopped moving as quickly as it had begun, holding deathly still for a moment before it moved smoothly toward the building, ending up beside the mangled metal that had been its associate.  “Crimson Dynamos, are they not, Iron Man?”

“Yeah, that’s what it looks like,” Tony agreed, coming to a landing and flicking the suit off a few seconds later.  “Uh. This one…is this one dead, Doom?”

“No.”  He landed beside Tony, a few seconds before War Machine. “The pilot is alive.  Perhaps a bit worse for wear.  But alive.”  He stepped out of the way as Pepper ran to Tony, hugging him tightly, and Darcy could, would swear later that for a fraction of a second, just a fraction, she saw Doom’s perfect posture stiffen before he stalked back to the edge of the terrace, his back to them all.

“Fuck,” Darcy muttered, turning on her heel and running for the bar.  “FRIDAY, where does Tony keep the really, really good stuff?”

“Wine, champagne, or whiskey, Miss Lewis?”

“Any of it.  All of it,” Darcy snapped, her eyes sliding over labels.  “The good shit, FRIDAY, the Thank You For Being A Pal shit.”

“I would suggest the single malt Macallan Single Malt Craigallachie if you are celebrating the triumph.”

“Great.  Where’s that?”

“Third shelf from the top, to the left.”  Darcy stepped up on the stool, grabbed the bottle and two glasses; hopefully he drank his whiskey neat.  “How much is this bottle, FRIDAY?”

“The MSRP is three hundred dollars.”

“Great.  Take it out of my pay for the next couple months, would you?”  She was already in the kitchen before the AI could reply affirmatively, and out the door, picking her way around the rubble that had been the terrace pool five minutes earlier.  She waved at Rhodey and Tony, but never stopped moving until she was a few feet behind Doom.

“Lord Protector?”  She called softly.  He turned, he had to turn his whole torso to do so, she noticed, and saw her.  She held up the bottle and glasses.  “To the Victor goes the spoils?”

“Is that my Laphroaig, Lewis?”  Tony called from across the hole where the pool had been.

“Nope!  It’s something called Macallan…Craigie something, it came recommended,” she shouted back.  “And I already arranged to pay you for it, so hush.”

“Nah.  On the house,” Tony said.  “Doom, take five and have a drink with a pretty girl before SHIELD gets here; you’ll have to give a statement, damn it, I didn’t want --“ Tony was cut off by Pepper’s fingers over his lips.

“What Tony means to say, Lord Doom, is that he deeply appreciates your help tonight,” Pepper said, and Tony sighed.

“Yes.  Yes, that is what I want to say, seriously, I just…this isn’t what I wanted, I wanted to just kick back and have a good time and make new friends, goddamn it.”  Tony kicked at a piece of loose concrete.  “And you BASTARDS had to fucking RUIN it!”

“If it comforts you, Mr. Stark, that is exactly what I had hoped for this evening as well,” Doom said, turning all the way around at last.  “And I add my curse to yours.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighed. “Well.  Unfortunately, this comes from being my friend.”

“God, you have no idea,” Rhodey sighed.  “He’s been a trouble magnet since I’ve known him, building the suit didn’t change anything.” He wrapped one arm around Pepper’s waist, the other around Tony’s.  “Come on, you two.  Let’s go find our own bottle.”

The bottle was plucked from her fingers a moment later, and she wondered briefly, how did he move so fast and so silently?  Oh yeah, hovering, Darcy, he’s a fucking Sith Lord, remember?  “This is a very good Scotch,” he said lowly.  

“Yeah, well, you won. Practically single handed,” she shrugged.  “And hey, saving the plucky sidekick’s life comes with benefits.”

“Do not speak of yourself so.  You are, even on our short acquaintance, much more than the plucky sidekick.”  He opened the bottle, poured two fingers’ worth of liquor into both glasses.  “Prosit.”

“L’chaim,” she replied, touching her glass to his and sipping, the alcohol peaty, burning its way down her throat.  She didn’t cough, but her eyes watered.  “Damn,” she said after she caught her breath.  “I just remembered why I like Irish better.”

“Oh?  Then why did you choose this?”

“One, it’s one of Tony’s best, two, you seem like a Scotch kind of guy; complicated, with added fire.”

“That is…a very apt descriptor.  You used a Hebraic term for your toast; you’re Jewish?”

“Yep,” she nodded. “Not observant or anything, but yeah.” She sipped her drink again, glancing at the two subdued assholes.  “They’re not gonna wake up anytime soon, are they?”  He chuckled, and a shiver ran down her spine at the sound.

“Not likely.”  It wasn’t quite a growl, but it wasn’t far from it, either.  “I overloaded the subdermal receptors in one suit, causing a massive amount of biogenetic feedback.  Nothing that can’t be cured with a few weeks’ care.  As for the other, well.  The Grasping Hand is not known for subtlety.  There may be broken bones.  I’m afraid I have no sympathy for them; they meant to ambush unarmed people at a party, after all.”

“Yeah, I don’t have any sympathy for them myself at the moment,” Darcy agreed.  “So that’s what the Force Choke move is called?  The Grasping Hand?”

“Force Choke?”  He asked her, gesturing, and a pair of chairs and a table, knocked over to the wall by the missiles, rose, righting themselves. “I’m not sure I know the term.”

“Star Wars?  Darth Vader, Princess Leia, Luke Skywalker? Kylo Ren, Rey?  The Millennium Falcon?”  He shook his head as she named off each integral piece of the space opera.

“I am afraid I do not care for much modern media.  I have had other concerns.”

“Oh, um…yeah, okay,” she said, joining him as he walked over to the table and taking a seat.  “Star Wars.  It’s a movie franchise, very…at its core, it’s the Hero’s Journey, I guess, and the actual first three movies are awesome, the prequels are crap except for Rogue One, and we’re now waiting for the last in the current trilogy.”

“I see.  It is a cultural difference, I suppose; movies were never that important to me.”  He refilled her glass, and his own.  “Books were. Do you know Tolkien?”

“Three Rings for the Elven-Kings under the sky, seven for the Dwarf-Lords in their halls of stone, nine for mortal men, doomèd  to die, one for the Dark Lord on his dark throne, in the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie,” she quoted, and he nodded.

“Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul,” he intoned, purposely, she was sure, deepening his voice as he spoke the Black Tongue of Mordor.

“In the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie,” she repeated softly.  “Yeah.  Yeah, me and John Ronald, we go back.”

“Obviously,” he agreed.

“Also, the Black Speech?  Really?”

“It amused me, in my youth.”

“So,” she said after a moment.  “Are you Theoden awakened, then?  Or Boromir, regretful at the Falls?”  He didn’t answer her for several long minutes, taking a drink, considering his words.

“I think…” he began slowly.  “I think I am more Saruman, but a Saruman who has seen his folly.  I have broken the White, and become the Saruman of Many Colors; and now I am trying, perhaps, to regain my humility, and earn back my Staff of Office.”

“Or Bilbo,” she offered. “After giving up the One Ring.”

“No; no.  You are very kind, Miss --“ she glared at him, and he changed.  “Darcy. But I, like Saruman, have committed too many sins, and Bilbo did not.  No. I am Saruman if Saruman had come down at Orthanc, when Theoden and Gandalf and the Ents had cornered him.  I have come down, and I know I have a great deal of work to do to redeem myself.”

“Looks like you’re doing a good job of it, from my point of view,” she offered.

“Thank you.  There is a veritable Aegean stables to clean, however,” he sighed, “and the expedient way tempts me, always.”

“Change is hard,” she agreed.  “Changing as completely as you’ve done, that’s…that’s next to impossible.  May I ask, if it’s not too personal, what…did something happen to drive you to it, or…” she let her words trail off. “Sorry, I’m presuming on short acquaintance.”

“You are,” he agreed. “But at least you’re asking.” Slowly, he ran his finger over the rim of his glass, the metal of his glove causing the glass to ring, just slightly. “Good crystal.  Stark has taste.”

“Yep.”

“The truth of it is…” he began, sitting back, “the truth of it is, I am tired.  I am tired of always being on edge.  I am tired of always fighting.  I am weary, Darcy.  I have seen the future and the past, I have fought battles with gods and monsters, demons and abominations, and while…while I have always…prevailed, at least in survival, I have not always triumphed.  I am tired.  I wish, at this point, only to lead my people into a new age.  An age in which Latveria prospers beside her neighbors, rather than eking out a spare living, hand to mouth.  It is time, it is past time, to give up the childish travails and idiocies of my youth, and see to the welfare of my people, rather than myself and my own wounded pride.”  

“Those are good reasons,” she said softly.  “I can understand those reasons.”

“Oh, there are more.”

“Of course there are; you’re complicated.”  She grinned at him.  

“I’m tired of seeing them quail whenever I walk among them.  Of seeing women hide their children behind them, of seeing even my own people, my mother’s people, quake in fear at the mention of my name.  Fear is not what I wanted, when I took the throne, I did not want their fear, I wanted to help, I wanted to build, to make things better…and all I have done is make it worse.  No more.  No more traipsing about time and space, no more fighting with Reed over sins, his and mine, long past.  No more proclamations of how great I am, and playing Big Brother from Orwell.  I am not great.  I am a man who has made a multitude of mistakes.  And I cannot, even if I went back in time again, I would not be able to rectify them all.  But I can build a better future.  I can.  But it takes allies.  It takes trust.  And I have to earn that trust.”

“Doing a hell of a job so far,” Steve’s voice cut through the night, and Darcy looked over her shoulder to see him standing a few feet away.  “Sorry to interrupt.  Coulson wants to ask a few questions, you know how it is.”

“Of course.  If you will excuse me, Darcy?”  He asked politely, and she nodded.  He rose, taking her hand and bowing over it.  “It has been a delight to spend time with you; I hope to do so again before I leave New York.”

“It’s been my pleasure, Victor,” she assured him.  “And thank you again.  I know you saved my life.”

“I would gladly do so again. Good evening.”

“Good evening.”  She watched him walk away with Steve, sighed to herself.  Well, the assholes hadn’t completely ruined the evening.  Just mostly.  

 STAY TUNED, TRUE BELIEVERS!

EXCELSIOR!

[theshadowedqueen82]

Trollhunters S3 Finale

WOW. Okay, well, I have Thoughts.

Tbh I completely forgot about the Battle of the Bands

But! Aja and Krel!!!! My children!

I love them so much she’s just saying “dance” over and over while dancing

The dolphin in their music was a Hitchhiker's Guide reference nobody can convince me otherwise

Followed almost immediately by a Back to the Future reference I love it

“Something alien!” “Are they talking about us?” asdklgjsaskljklgh I LOVE THEM

so excited to see more of them in 3 Below honestly they’re the best

Claire and Toby in their armour looks mostly awesome but I think Claire’s helmet is sort of weird

MARY AND DARCI ARE THE BEST BACKUP BAND EVER

Seriously they’re the best friends! Claire ditches like every rehearsal and then she comes on stage in this weird armour and gives a brand new speech about doom? Well let’s SUPPORT HER with some BACKUP MUSIC they’re the best

Mary takes her BFF being magic into stride so well I love it

Honestly I really wanted them to be told for so long because they’d be amazing trollhunters you know I only speak the truth

Also the blue haired guy can stay since he saved them, maybe he can date Mary

I mourn the loss of those guitars though

DARCI AND TOBY AAAAAHHHH

Can we appreciate how far Toby’s gone in training? How much better at fighting he’s become? How skilled he is with the hammer he could barely pick up when he started? I’m so proud

Nana calling Toby during the apocalypse was A+ amazing

Especially since she wasn’t even talking about the apocalypse and Dictacious was just THERE

On a different note you know the changeling babies quest? did they tell Strickler and Nomura about that beforehand because they didn’t show that AT ALL

Like all the changelings suddenly shift back and can’t use their human forms and a maximum of three know about this

All I want is to see Otto’s troll form is that too much to ask

BUT THE FIGHT SCENES. OH MY GOSH THE FIGHT SCENES.

I was tearing up with joy at the sight of them all fighting together it was amazing

STILL NOT OVER STRICKLER’S WINGS

Jim dramatically leaping from rooftop to rooftop while saying things about destiny and “shining brightest” I think he’s becoming Batman

Claire is magnificent, Toby is spectacular, Jim is amazing, look at how far these three have come

Blinky is just so proud of his son “I trained him!” indeed Blinky indeed

Also can we take a moment to appreciate Barbara because there was a troll in the hospital which means she’s treating trolls alongside humans and Does Not Care about them being different species and the secrecy because she has a job to do

She’s so terrified that both the men in her life will never come back but she concentrates on what she can do, on helping the people she can

THE TEACHERS OF THE APOCOLYPSE

Honestly that bit just reminded me of Weirdmageddon it was just Best

AAAAAARRGGH! is honestly a saint for putting up with Merlin my gosh

When he asks AAAAARRGGHH! for help like what do you think he’s been trying to do?

Morgana is a delight she’s so evil and cool

Jim finally defeats Bular! On a rooftop and he falls off paralleling Kanjigar’s fall in the first episode!

But then he destroys AAAAARRGGHH!’s backup too with all the Gumm Gumms :(

But! Technically it wasn’t just Jim defeating them but EVERY TROLLHUNTER EVER which is amazing

And now the Trollhunter’s mission is fulfilled, I like to think that Jim is the last Trollhunter and all the previous Trollhunters’ spirits are now released

“We need to help Merlin!” I was sitting there like “but do we really?”

I guess he was necessary to end the Eternal Night but like... it was really more like an Eternal Sunset wasn’t really dark enough for night

Perhaps Morgana thought it was dark enough because she still wanted some light to dramatically reflect off her outfit

Merlin used her HAND to make the amulet? I mean I’m not surprised but we saw the amulet being made right? so which part is her hand

ANGOR ROT REDEMPTION YES YES YES

I’m so pleased and proud with him and I have fic

I love how the one to defeat Morgana is Claire, every time. She’s gonna be such a powerful sorceress I love her

You know who else loves her? JIM AND NOW THEY”RE ON A ROAD TRIP TOGETHER

Look though, the Gyre can get them back to Arcadia in no time flat so

Plus is New Jersey really that far away? Nothing compared to the time spent in the Darklands!

“You did good raising him. Here’s a thousand more babies! Have fun, you two!” I DIED OKAY

Nice to know everybody else ships it as much as I do

Also I need a lot of fic and art for Strickler raising babies, stat

TOBY SAYING GOODBYE TO JIM OKAY

don’t touch me I’m not okay

Excited to see what happens next, especially with all of Arcadia now knowing about the trolls

Now I’ll be going through withdrawal with thousands of fics, when does 3 Below come out again because I need it

[ao3feed-ship-clintcoulson]

by LostMyMarbles

Welcome back, True Believers!

This is the promised rewrite of "Change Your Mind, Change Your Life." I'm a day and a half early, even!

Updating a few chapters at a time, no promises on when it'll be done, but I do intend to finish it. So if you're new here, it basically is what it says on the tin. It's Victor von Doom, finally getting over his own ego and making strides to change. In the midst of this, he meets our favorite brunette, Darcy Lewis, and begins wooing her. Life isn't all champagne wishes and caviar dreams for them, though, as you will see.

Words: 19973, Chapters: 8/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Victor von Doom, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Friday, Vision, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes, Namor the Sub-Mariner, Namorita Prentiss, Jennifer Walters, She-Hulk - Character, Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanoff, Logan Howlett, Laura Kinney

Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Victor von Doom, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

Additional Tags: That Doom/Darcy fic that nobody asked for, Darcyland, Personal Growth, Political Intrigue

[marblesarelost]

The protagonist of our tale.

Dr. Doom - John Byrne

[kariachi]

@thenixkat commissioned some Martin Mystery fic, and so she receives it.

How a paisley skirt got Martin in with a sorority

First order of business when he got back to Torrington, apologize to Diana for ever giving her shit about how long she took to shop. Getting the cheerleader outfit had been easy, all the sports uniforms were ordered out of the same catalog and it was easy to get a hold of one, all he’d had to do was order the largest size they had available and he was golden. Sure, there had been no way he was going to fit into the top, his shoulders were too broad and he didn’t have enough tit to fill it, but the first decent-looking crop top he’d grabbed at the thrift store had worked like a dream.

Apparently, he’d gotten very, very lucky on that one, because actually shopping for these things was proving to be a nightmare.

He’d gone for an actual store this time, assuming that that would mean a better selection of things that actually looked good. It had seemed reasonable at the time. All the skirts and dresses at the thrift store had ranged from ‘prom dress’ to ‘went out of style twenty years ago’ to ‘I could not tuck my junk enough to make this work’ to ‘holy shit that’s ugly’, which he had assumed was why they were donated. Theoretically an actual serious store would have better options.

As near as he could tell it did not have better options. He was just doomed.

“Hold up, Martin? Martin Mystery?” A quick turn revealed a pair of girls a few displays over, ones he recognized from school. It was like flipping a switch, one instant he was leafing through a display, the next he was stood beside one of the girls- with short, red-dyed hair, wearing a leather choker- a skirt still in one hand, pouring on every ounce of charm.

“Hey! Ivy right? Fancy meeting you here…” Ivy was distinctly unimpressed.

“Lesbian,” she said simply and Martin briefly deflated before turning his attention to her blonde-haired companion.

“And Tessa-” She put a hand on Ivy’s shoulder.

“Girlfriend.” Martin frowned, shoulders slumping.

“Damn. So close…” The girls just shook their heads, each in a different stage of smirk.

“Not really, no.” Ivy reached out and grabbed away the skirt in Martin’s hand. “Tell me you weren’t going to buy this? Paisley went out of fashion like, thirty years ago.” Truth be told, Martin hadn’t entirely been planning to, it was not a good-looking skirt, but…

“There’s not exactly a lot that fits around here.” The girls’ lips quirked into slight frowns and each looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He raised one of his own in challenge- he was still a bit miffed about M.O.M. gasping at the sight of him in a skirt and raring for somebody else to dare start. Comebacks had been planned. After a moment, Tessa seemed to put the pieces together.

“You’re buying skirts, for you?” she asked in a tone that bore no judgement but did seek clarification. Martin smiled at her.

“What can I say,” he said, shrugging, “they’re comfortable and I make them look good.” That got a laugh out of them. Okay, more an amused snort out of Lily and a hidden chuckle from Tessa, but it was the most success he’d had with a girl in a month and he was going to roll with it.

Figured that it’d be a pair of lesbians that found him funny.

The girls looked him over appraisingly, Ivy resting her chin in her hand. A few seconds in she nodded, grabbed Tessa’s arm, and led her a few feet away. Immediately they fell into a huddle. Martin snuck after them to listen in.

“I saw him in that cheerleader outfit, he does have some curves.”

“It’s not curves I’m worried about, it’s those fucking shoulders.”

“Okay, point. So, we avoid sleeves.”

“Look around you, sweetheart.” Ivy’s head popped up just long enough to get the lay of the land and give Martin a Look for following them, then went back down.

“I’m beginning to see how he ended up at the paisley.”

“Exactly.” She chewed her lip, then both get quieter as they continued their conversation. By the time they finished Martin had turned around and begun going through a nearby display of tops. Blouses, definitely not his thing.

“Martin.” He looked back up, smiling as Ivy called him. She continued before he could get his mouth fully open. “Meet us up front in five, we’re hitting a different store.”

~~

“Oh God, never let me hold anything purple up to him again.”

“It wasn’t that bad…”

“It made him look like he’d crawled out of a crypt!” Sighing, Tessa shook her head.

“Sorry Martin, looks like the royal color just isn’t for you.”

“I did say I look best in reds and yellows,” he said, gesturing at his familiar shirt. “It looked nice otherwise though.” Ivy nodded.

“Yeah, fit and flair might just work for you.”

“Okay then,” Tessa grinned as she spoke, “we’re looking for things with fitted tops then, in warm colors and neutrals. Some of the girls back at school know how to alter shit, so we shouldn’t have to worry too much about any excess boob room. Sound like a plan?” Martin and Ivy grinned back at her.

“Sounds like a plan.”

~~

Martin was fairly certain the dress was too short for him as soon as he put it on. An opinion that was confirmed as soon as he stepped out of the dressing room, when Tessa clapped a hand over her eyes and Ivy’s went impossibly wide.

“Okay that, that’s too damn short,” she said, patting her girlfriend’s shoulder comfortingly and he nodded in agreement, trying to pull the dress down some.

“I’m, just gonna go put on some actual clothes,” Martin said, heading back into the dressing room. Tessa whimpered quietly.

“I’ve gone blind.”

“That is a good idea, Martin…”

~~

“You are not bringing Martin Mystery in here.” Normally Martin would’ve been overjoyed to be partially dragged into a room full of hot girls, but even he was given pause by the stern look the new blonde was giving them.

“Martin, this is Sarah, President of the Psi Psi Psi sorority,” Ivy said, one hand on his arm and the other holding one of the many bags the three had managed to accumulate. Martin had the rest. “We needed back-up, Sarah, his hair is impossible. Sit down.” Tessa had dashed off to get him a seat and Martin followed the command readily. He’d been on his feet all day, and on Center work half the night, the chance to take a load off was more than welcome. The other girls looked around the cleared classroom at each other. Sarah’s head fell into one hand.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked as Ivy stepped away to talk a curly-haired brunette into helping tame Martin’s mane. Tessa shrugged at her.

“I’m not entirely sure,” she responded, “one minute we were helping him find skirts that fit and the next Ivy’s trying to make his hair follow the laws of gravity. By the way-” she grabbed one of Martin’s bags and held it up “-Eva, you know how to alter clothes, right? Think you could make these tops, not need tits to look good?” As if she was pretty sure she was dreaming, another brunette Martin had to assume was Eva stood up and took the bag.

“I’ll, see what I can do?”

“Thanks.” Meanwhile, the girl Ivy had been speaking too- Taylor- had come over and started looking at Martin’s hair.

“What do you do with it?”

“Nothing,” he said, “it’s just sorta like this. My dad’s too. It’s a family thing.” She stared at him, then at his hair, then back at him.

“You are so weird…” Shaking her head, she turned to Ivy. “I’m going to need a brush, some hair spray, any clips and accessories you can find-” she stole another glance at Martin’s hair “-and possibly some holy water.”

“On it.” As Ivy gathered Tessa up and left to find the required items, Sarah sighed.

“Are we really doing this?” she asked nobody in particular. “And with this moron?”

“Hey!” A redhead put her hand on her shoulder, shrugging with a smile.

“Well, we were trying to decide on something to do.”

~~

“-but what a lot of people don’t know,” Martin said, surveying his small audience, “is that male selkies are just as hot as their sisters and they can control the weather. There’s one village that got wiped right off the coast because they pissed off a selkie family and they pretty much dropped the sea right on top of them.”

“Cool!” He had to admit, he was having fun. Yeah he got whacked with a hairbrush every time he tried to flirt, and sometimes he’d say something and half the girls would throw pencils and things at him, but it turned out there was a sizeable portion of the sorority that were more than happy to talk monsters and mythical beasts with him. Besides, how could he not enjoy alternating his time between standing there with pretty girls measuring his chest and holding dresses up to him and sitting there with three pretty girls crowded around his hair?

“Okay, here’s a question, would you put Asian dragons in the same category as western dragons?” Martin thought about it a second, leaning back.

“Related, but not the same. Cousins maybe.”

“...makes sense.” A few of the girls nodded and Martin did so with them, only to get another knock upside the head.

“Stop moving, Mystery, getting your hair flat’s hard enough already!”

~~

“That’s it, we’re shaving his head!”

“Darcy no!”

~~

By the time he left, he had a bunch of clothes, four movie recommendations, three book recommendations, and a list of suggestions in case he ever decided to try out make-up.

Also, a contract stating that he’d keep his wig, wear it, and spare any other poor souls from trying to style his fucking hair, which he had every intention of getting framed.

~~

Huffing, Martin stared down at the tube top in his hand, fingers wriggling through the massive hole in the side. The Center had called the day before and he hadn’t had time to change completely- he had no intention of going in front of M.O.M. in a mini again- so he’d just thrown his usual shirts on over his top. It had worked fine, nobody was left waiting around, he was dressed appropriately, it was great.

Then he’d felt the seam pop.

Turned out this particular top was not made to withstand athletics. At least not when Martin was wearing it.

After giving himself a little more time to wallow, he huffed again, got off his bed, and headed out the door with the top balled up in his fist. First things first, he swung by the student office to check what dorm he was heading for, then beelined, being extra cautious once he made it to the right hall. Diana’s room was one of the earlier of the girl’s dorms and if she found him past it he was pretty sure she’d take his head clean off his shoulders. And then tell their mom. It was a threat he kept in mind even as he found the right door and knocked.

“Martin,” Jade asked when she opened the door, head tilting as she eyed him suspiciously, “what are you doing here?” He flashed a toothy smile at her, and at the handful of other Psi Psi Psi girls in her dorm, holding out his top.

“I was wondering if you knew how to fix a split seam.” She took it and looked it over, raising an eyebrow at him when she found the hole. “Don’t parkour in a tube top.” With a snort of laughter, she rolled her eyes.

“It’s an easy enough fix,” she said, then looked back into the room and at the girls and hesitated. “We were about to start a movie marathon,” she finally said, with small motions of tentative approval from the others, “if you want to join?” Martin grinned wider and slipped in passed her.

“Sure!” Aria and Sophia scooted aside on the bed so he could flop down between them, smiling at him as he got comfortable. “What are we watching?”

~~

“I’m telling you, the whole thing would’ve made a lot more sense if she’d turned out to be a moleman!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…”

“No, no, I’m with him on this one-”

~~

“Marty!” Lil grabbed his arm halfway down the hall to Biology, a massive grin on her face and a thick black book in her hand. She shoved it at Martin as he smiled back at her.

“Uzumaki?” He flipped through the pages curiously. It was a manga, a thick one.

“I saw it at the thrift store yesterday,” Lil said, “and I’ve already got it but I thought ‘Junji Ito is right up Martin’s alley’. So, I got it for you.” Martin nodded.

“Thanks, Lil,” he said as he put it into his bag, “I’ll try to read it tonight.” If anything she smiled wider.

“Awesome,” she said, turning back down the hall. “See ya, Marty. And try not to fall asleep in class today?” He gave her a brief wave as she went.

“No promises.”

~~

“Why didn’t you warn me, Lil? Those poor snail-people!” Lil blinked the sleep from her eyes, supporting herself on her half-open door.

“I take it you’re enjoying the manga, Martin?”

“They didn’t even do anything!” He was clutching the hardcover to his chest, as he had been since he’d started his trek to the girls’ dorm to confront Lil about the affront to basic humanity that had occurred in it. “All they did was run away and have babies! That’s it!”

“Glad you’re having fun.”

“And that, fucking monster goes and destroys their nest! Why?! Just because they’re snail-people?! Who does that?! Those eggs were completely innocent!”

“Goodnight, Marty.” The door slowly shut.

“Innocent, Lil!”

~~

By the next morning, Martin had left her twelve missed calls.

~~

He met up with Madeline outside the empty classroom where the sorority held their meetings, and where he’d been waiting for fifteen minutes for the last one to finish up. Even he felt a little bit skeevy lying in wait for her, especially given what he wanted to discuss, but it wasn’t worth interrupting a meeting for and she kept busy enough to be hard to get a hold of the rest of the time. So, Martin’d waited, flashed the other girls smiles and exchanged quick hellos as they passed, then fell into step beside her.

“We might have a problem,” he said, and she raised a curious eyebrow.

“Oh?” He nodded.

“I’m worried about your new thing with Anthony.” She stopped there, swinging around to stand in front of him. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth a thin line.

“Hold up, you’re going to warn me off my boyfriend?” Martin reeled back at the incredulity in her voice.

“Hey, what’s with the tone,” he demanded, “I’m just trying to help!”

“We all like you Martin,” Madeline said, raising a brow, “but no girl with a brain is going to take any sort’ve boyfriend warning from you.” He was hurt, truly, honestly, as she turned around and kept walking.

“He was talking about putting another notch in his belt in the locker room before gym,” he said as if she’d never shut him down in the first place. She stopped and looked at him with suspicion. “I was gonna just challenge him to a duel, you know, Highlander, ‘there can only be one playboy in this school’ style, but I left my sword at home during the last break. So, I figured I’d just tell you.” She couldn’t resist chuckling when he pantomimed a swordfight, and shook her head with a sigh.

“See you later, Martin.”

~~

It was four days later when she grabbed his arm in the middle of the courtyard and began dragging him towards the cafeteria, snarl on her face and tears in her eyes.

“You are buying me ice cream and then you are going to explain why you boys are all such dicks.” He blinked at her and let himself be pulled along.

“Sure thing, Maddie.”

~~

After forty minutes in the feminine hygiene aisle of the local drugstore, two confused employees, six calls back to confirm that yes Darcy needs these, no nobody else can get them, just get the damn things already what’s taking so long, and the slowly dawning realization that there was no ‘Panda’ company that made pads, Martin stormed into the Psi Psi Psi meeting room only to be greeted by a crowd of laughing girls. He made sure to glare at each and every one of them.

“You are all, every one of you, an asshole.” Shaking in her laughter, Sarah walked across the room and pulled him into a side hug.

“Takes one to know one, Marty.”

~~

“Martin Mystery, stand up.” Martin blinked, looking around at the girls, before complying. Sarah, Paige, and Arianna were standing at the head of the room, straight-backed and serious, and he was suddenly concerned about having been invited to this meeting. “The Psi Psi Psi council has thought a long, long, long time, had many discussions on this topic, and have finally come to a hard-made decision.” She went quiet, looking around the room at the other girls. Martin adjusted his dress for the sake of fidgeting. After an eternal second, Sarah smiled at him.

“We’d like to formally invite you into the Psi Psi Psi Sisterhood.” He froze. What? ‘Formally invite…’ For real? A grin broke over his face. Cool. Taking a moment to let it sink in and plan his response, he gave her a toothy smirk. It was too big an opening not to take.

“See, I knew you girls couldn’t resist me.” A chorus of groans broke out around him and he was immediately bombarded with everything from snacks to paper balls to hairbands. But, when the chaos died down, all the girls were smiling. Including Sarah.

“And of course, now,” she said, “your first order of sorority business.” Her smile took a sinister, teasing turn. “The next time you flirt with a sister we’re shaving your fucking head.”

[amusewithaview]

Hi, You totally make me ship Reincarnated!Darcy x Doctor Strange when i read one of your story ( though i can't remember which one now). Do you have any ship feels or fic ideas for this pair ? And will you ship these 2 soon ?

A/N: the anon is referring to this story.  Please note that I have not seen Dr. Strange and therefore my version of the character is played by Oscar Isaac.  Additionally, as in prior Mummy fusions/crossovers, reincarnated!Imhotep is played by Rami Malek.  This ended up way more Imhotep heavy than I intended.  Um.  Whoops?

Darcy woke unsettled, a state that was becoming all too familiar recently.  For the past week she had been having a strange dream.  It was vague and even now she was having difficulty remembering particulars, but it had been getting clearer every night.  There was a sense of something almost familiar, a feeling like home, and a rising anticipation.

Something was coming.

The uncertainty made her irritable, though she tried her best to hide it.  It was unfortunate for her that her current companion prided himself on both his intelligence and his observational skills.  Sadly, he tended to have little care for tact.

“You’re not sleeping well and something is bothering you.  Your concentration has been shot since you arrived,” Stephen commented.  “You may as well put that book away, you won’t be getting anything out of it right now anyways.”

Darcy groaned, rubbing at one of her temples.  “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘fake it till you make it?’”

He raised an eyebrow at her.  “If you attempt to force yourself to concentrate you’re more likely to set the book on fire than you are to retain anything useful.  I like that book, Darcy.  It took me almost five months to track down.  I’d rather it didn’t go the way of that sofa you took issue with last month.”

“The springs had sprung,” she told him.  “I was defending any of your future colleagues and students from serious chiropractic misery!”

“Regardless, things have a tendency to catch fire when you get like this.  What’s the matter?”

“Just… dreams.  A dream.”

“Recurring dreams are often your unconscious attempting to communicate something important to your conscious self.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, reminding herself that he wasn’t trying to come off as patronizing.  Really, it was just the environment.  Here, in his Sanctum, he tended to be at his most wordy, his most doctory.  Sometimes she appreciated it, and others…  “If I could remember the dream then maybe I could try and get some message out of it.”

“Well, that is something I can help with, if you are interested,” Stephen said, shutting his own book and rising from his chair.  “Up,” he said, “I’d been meaning to show you this trick anyways.  It’s a focusing and organization technique that can be practiced solo or with a partner.”

Darcy rose to her feet, watching curiously as he raised his hands to bracket her temples.  “Are you actually going to be doing anything… invasive?  I have to warn you, there’s more than you’d ever want to see going on in here.”

Stephen grimaced, “I can imagine.”

No, you really can’t, she thought wryly.  He knew the basics of her background, that she came from a line of mediums and low-grade psychics.  He even knew that she had accidentally tapped into the memories of a few past lives.  What those lives entailed was a secret she kept far dearer.  It wasn’t diamonds, but long-term repression outright denial that was a girl’s best friend.

“This may… tingle,” he said.

She didn’t even have time to smile at his word choice before she was being swept into her own head.  Darcy felt a series of vague impressions, faint sense memories of her morning running backwards through her mind until she reached the point where she’d woken, then moving further into her dreams.

She saw sands on fire and smelled something dry and faintly musty that spoke of age and things long-buried.  She heard a faint susurrus like moving cloth or the pages of a book being turned or the faint rubbing sound of thousands of insect wings fluttering at once.  She felt the sun on her skin and cool water at her feet.  She tasted honey and spice at the back of her throat, sending a new kind of heat sweeping through her.  She experienced all of these things at once, and then something shifted, clicking into place, and abruptly she was not longer remembering the dream, she was in it.

Darcy stood, trembling, at the edge of a vast desert.  The sand stretched as far as her eyes could see before her.  Behind her, she could hear the sounds of New York as she knew them.  Looking down, she saw that her feet were balanced perfectly between pavement and sand.

“No,” she said, frightened and confused, and jolted backwards instinctively, away from the sand and the heat and the memories of lifetimes before.  She was suddenly jerked off-balance by a hand on her forearm, tugging her forwards and surprising her into taking a step into the sand.  She looked up into a face she didn’t know wearing a smile she recognized immediately.  “Imhotep?”

“I have been searching for you, and now you come to me.  Convenient,” he said.  He tilted his head to one side, frowning.  “Someone has been teaching you magic, their signature clings to you.”

“Old soul, new tricks,” she said faintly.  “I - ” Darcy paused, searching for something to say.  “Why were you searching for me?”

He tsked, “Truly?  Love of all my lives, playing stupid does not suit you.”

“We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms,” she reminded him.  “If I recall correctly, I left you to die, ran to save myself and ended up dying anyways.”

His hand on her arm clenched, making her hiss a little between her teeth.  “You perished?” he demanded.

“I tripped, there were scorpions, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Darcy said flippantly.  “It was a mercy, really,” she told him, serious now.  “Nobody should have to live with a fractured soul.“

“But you are whole, now,” he asserted, studying her intently.  “You remembered without my help, even before I started trying to reach you.  You are Anck-Su-Namun in spirit, if not in body.”

She shook her head.  “Anck-Su-Namun is dead.  I’m Darcy.  I have an apartment, not a palace.  I’m a student, not a millionaire or a concubine or a budding crime queenpin.  I live in the modern world and I don’t let my past, any of it, define me.  Death is supposed to be a new beginning, and I have died as Anck-Su-Namun too many times already.”

“You want to start over,” Imhotep said flatly.

“Yes.”

“Forget everything that came before?” he asked, biting out the words derisively.

She felt a wash of air behind her, it felt like cool metal and astringent cleaner and old books and a thousand other things that were familiar to her in her new life.  Finally, she thought.

“Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it,” Stephen said, and Darcy had never been so happy to hear that tired cliche.  “Darcy has quite enough doom in her life without you adding to it.  We’ll be going now,” he told her, clasping her shoulder.

His magic latched onto her and for a moment Darcy was torn, physically and magically, between the two men, between the desert and the city, her past and her present.  She looked at Imhotep and shook her head: “I’m not her, and I refuse to be ever again.”

“You cannot change your soul,” he said, and even as she felt Stephen’s magic pulling her away she heard his shout: “We will finish this discussion in person, Darcy.”

The desert melted into a blur of color which was swiftly replaced by the reading nook in the Sanctum.  Darcy collapsed into her chair, rubbing her temples and trying desperately to convince herself that she didn’t still feel sand between her toes and a desert breeze ruffling her hair.

“Well,” she said, semi-hysterically, “you were right, that dream was definitely trying to tell me something.”

[ao3feed-janefoster]

Change Your Mind, Change Your Life

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2EfzNd1

by LostMyMarbles

Change or die.

It is the quintessential lesson of life. If one does not change, one grows stagnant, and in that stagnation, nothing can thrive. Victor von Doom has been pondering, of late, this philosophical quandary.

Words: 24357, Chapters: 7/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Victor von Doom, Remy LeBeau, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Jane Foster (Marvel), Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Namor the Sub-Mariner, Jennifer Walters, Wanda Maximoff, Vision (Marvel), Friday (Marvel)

Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Victor von Doom

Additional Tags: Romance, Friendship, Politics, that Darcy Lewis/Victor von Doom Fic That Nobody Asked for, Darcyland (Marvel)

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2EfzNd1

[marblesarelost]

Change Your Mind, Change Your Life

                                                     Chapter 8

The next morning, Darcy scooped up the last bite of her cereal, watching an episode of The Herculoids in the common room.  She judged the amount of milk left in the bowl with a practiced eye; not quite enough for more cereal.  Sad.  She lifted the bowl, slurping a little as she drank the milk down, burping contentedly when it was gone.  "Stay classy, Artoo," Tony said behind her, and she giggled. "You know it. You gonna veg out with me today?"  She leaned backwards over the back of the couch, looking at him upside down. "I don't do cartoons. What's in the TV Guide for the afternoon?" Tony asked, grinning at her and coming all the way into the common room, hiking a hip up onto the side of the couch. 

"Creature Feature?" Darcy offered. "I Was A Teenaged Werewolf and Godzilla with subtitles?" "Make it both Godzilla?" Tony asked, and Darcy pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. "Oh come on --" "Darcy," Steve's voice rang out from the hall. "You busy?" "Yep!" She replied. "Watching brainless TV and pretending the outside world doesn't exist for the day, Steve." Tony frowned as Steve came in, jumped onto the couch. "Share the blanket," he said, grabbing some of the brightly patterned fabric.  He looked down at said pattern, then back up at her, raising an eyebrow.   “Falcon?" "Tech enhanced and studly, this way no blow to your ego or Steve's," she shrugged. Tony considered, nodded. "Makes sense. So, Herculoids?" "Space Ghost next or the Tarzan/Zorro/Lone Ranger Hour?" She asked brightly. Tony saw Steve shaking his head out of the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Space Ghost.  Are you Jan or Blip?" "Definitely Blip. He saves everybody all the time," Darcy said, nodding firmly. "Steve, why are you still standing? You can't watch cartoons standing." "I'm not watching cartoons," Steve said, though he glanced at the screen. "There's Zorro?" "The Zorro/Lone Ranger/Tarzan Hour," Darcy replied helpfully. "I think it lasted two seasons in the eighties, and then Filmation did a reboot in the late 90s, early 2000s." "Thanks. Look, Darcy --“ Steve began, and she held up her hand. "Am I about to get a lecture?" "Not a lecture," Steve said. "I want to know why you didn't tell us about the situation in Eastern Europe escalating." "One; the Avengers are not the parents of the world, two, I asked him if he wanted you to know and he said no, and three, I know damn good and well you were briefed on the situation within an hour of my having the information so four, fuck off and let me watch cartoons." Darcy said the last with a bright, toothy smile, one that Tony recognized a bit too well; you don’t have the right to give me shit, was the sentiment behind that kind of smile. "I was not informed that you had gone on a date with him the evening before," Steve said, frowning. "Listen, Darce, I'm sure there's lots of perfectly nice guys in New York, heck, that work in the building, that would love to date you." "Wait." Darcy paused the cartoon and looked up at Steve. "Are you trying to tell me who I can date, Steve?" "I just.." He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight awkwardly. "He's not a good guy, Darce.” Tony watched all of this avidly, his gaze switching back and forth between the two, picking up the box of Lucky Charms beside Darcy and popping some into his mouth before it hit him, and he snickered. "I said I'm jealous, I'm jealous again," he sang, and Darcy paled. "Is that what this is?" She asked, slowly pushing the comforter off her lap and rising to her feet to face Steve. "Are you jealous, Steve?" "I just don't think you're thinking this through is all," Steve said. "He's talking a great game and he's got kind of a dangerous thing about him, gals like that, I knew a girl in Brooklyn who dated one of Meyer Lansky's friends because of that." "Hey.  Steve.  Stop now.  You're just digging yourself deeper," Tony said, watching Darcy's face turn a mottled red. "Too late, you're fucked, been nice knowing you." "First," Darcy hissed, "you're not my dad, my grandpa, my brother, or even my cousin. And even if you were, you still wouldn't have the right to tell me who I can date, fuck, kiss, make out with or go down on. You got that, Rogers?"   "I'm just --"

"Second," she interrupted him, poking him with her fingernail, "if you wanted a fucking date, you've seen me every day for the last year, you could have asked any time. I might have said yes. I might not have. I never really thought about it, because," she poked in time with her next few words, "you. Never. Asked." "Do you think that's all this is? Me being jealous? I'm just concerned because he's a dictatorial super villain and you're a civilian member of the support team.  I'm concerned what kind of information he might be able to get out of you.  I'm concerned about the safety of the team, and your safety." "You were scared to ask," she said, shaking her head. "And now you're jealous because someone else did. Someone you don't approve of.  Someone you think isn't good for me.  And you're using the other as a cover." She stepped away from him, still shaking her head. "We're done, Steve. If I keep talking, we won't be friends anymore." She reached for her blanket, folded it over her arm, and walked out, strangely dignified for someone wearing footie pajamas. "Tony -" Steve began, but Tony shook his head, standing up. "You fucked up, Rogers. You fucked up hard." He walked out as well, heading for his workshop. Once there, he called Pepper.  "Pepper. Go check on Darcy, would you?" "What's wrong?" "Steve said some shit about her and Doom.  I probably didn't help." "Tony..." Pepper sighed, and he quickly defended himself. "All I said was that Rogers was jealous." "Okay," Pepper replied. "I'll check in with her." "Take her shopping. Do something." "And what will you be doing?" "I'm gonna find something to work on, or else I'm gonna punch Rogers myself.  It wasn't pretty, Pep." "Okay."

Darcy stomped through her apartment, seething. He wasn't even her boyfriend. One date. One. She'd expected a lecture, she'd expected a quiet conversation between friends, she'd expected better. Instead, Captain Motherfucking America had given her the equivalent of the "nice guy" speech. "Bastard," she muttered, flopping into the overstuffed ugly chair she’d thrifted, shaking her head. Jealous.  He was jealous. "Fucker should have said something," she sighed at the ceiling. "He should have. He should have said something."  She closed her eyes, tried to calm her breathing. "Fucker." A knock at the door jarred her out of her reverie. "Who is it?" "Pepper." "Let her in, FRIDAY." The door clicked open, and Pepper slipped in, closing the door firmly behind her before kneeling in front of Darcy, smiling gently. "You okay?" "Yep.  Peachy keen." Darcy bared her teeth. It wasn't a smile. "Tony told me." "Figured." "You knew not everyone would approve." "I knew he wouldn't," Darcy said, sitting up, leaning forward. "But trying to hide his jealousy behind concern for the team is bullshit." "True.  And you did the right thing, walking away." "I'm a grownup," Darcy nodded. "I didn't slap him. Even when he intimated I don't know what I'm doing." "Do you?" "No. But does anybody, when it comes to dating?" "Good point," Pepper agreed. "Want to go shopping? We'll get something lovely and elegant for the next time you see Victor.  Tony’s dime." "Yes," Darcy agreed. "Something in green."

The reinforced heavy bag shook with every punch, Steve's labored breathing echoing in his ears as he poured his frustrations into physical activity.  "Hey," he heard from behind him, and turned to see Sam standing there, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Bad day?" One last punch. "Darcy's dating Doom." Sam tossed him a towel, and he wiped the sweat from his face. "I...didn't handle it well." "You didn't see the chemistry between them the other night after the fight at the pool?" Sam asked, and Steve looked away. "You did." "He's a dictator, Sam. Rules his country with an iron fist, what would he do with a swell dame like Darcy?" Steve crossed to the fridge, took out a bottle of water, drank it down in a few gulps, took out another and drank half of that. "He seemed okay the other night," Sam began. "Isn't he changing stuff in Latveria? Moving toward democracy?" "So he says," Steve snapped. "I've got legitimate concerns, Sam. Sure, he's saying all the right things right now, but what if he's not playing straight?  Heck, how long until he gets a wild hair to go after Sue Richards again?  At best, Darcy's a distraction to a guy like him.  And I don't want to see her hurt." "Wow." Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Let's start with why you're so upset over this." "She's a member of the support team.  She lives here.  She's got a lot of info that Doom could use against us," Steve said, keeping his gaze on the bottle in his hand. "Nothing to do with the way you watch her sometimes," Sam said dryly. "Nope, you're not jealous." "My personal feelings aren't involved," Steve snapped. "This is purely about the team and about her value to it.  Do you think I don't know that everyone seems to see her as a sort of baby cousin or baby sister?  She charms Tony, she soothes Natasha and Clint, she does Wanda's hair --" "She does Bruce's dictation, she is literally Thor's adopted sister, and she plays video games with me and Clint," Sam finished.  "She set up movie night for you, and she's teaching Vision how to knit, getting him used to tactile sensations and how to gauge his strength.  Yeah, Steve.  We all love her in our way.  But you notice nobody else is freaking out because she had a date with Doom." "Natasha knew.  Natasha helped her get ready," Steve said, shaking his head. "I don't understand how she of all people isn't seeing this as --" "Natasha isn't interested in her," Sam said flatly. "You are. And you're jealous, and you're angry with yourself because you think you waited too long." Steve's jaw jutted out, but he stayed quiet.  "Darcy likes you.  But Steve, as hard as it is for you to hear, she doesn’t like you like that."  

“She doesn’t have to, I’m not standing here saying she has to, I just -- he’s not -- he’s not right for her. He’s not,” Steve insisted, and Sam shrugged.

“Here’s the thing, Steve.  You’re a hero, you’re an all around good guy, but you can’t see the future.  You don’t know that.  You don’t know that he’s not gonna be good to her.  You don’t know how this is going to end, if it’s going to end. She might break up with him.  She might marry his ass.  We don’t know, and you know what?  That’s not on us,” Sam pointed out, half-smiling.  “It’s not on us, man.  She’s a grown-ass woman, okay.  She’ll make her own choices.  And she might end up with a broken heart, but you know what?  Those heal.  If he goes chasing after Sue Richards again, I don’t have any doubt but what Darcy will get ‘Tasha or Clint to fly her to Latveria, she’ll tell him off to his face and come home and eat ice cream and get over it.  She’s a grownup.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not a security concern,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “He’s still an unknown at this time.  Okay, I can’t say he’s an enemy, I can say I don’t know him, and based on his past, I don’t trust him.”

“Nobody says you have to. You just have to trust Darcy.” Sam clapped Steve on the arm.  “Come on.  Let’s go get a shake.”  Slowly, Steve nodded and headed to the locker room.

 DOOMBOT BRIGADE 1328 ONLINE.

…..WORKING….

UPDATE DOWNLOADED.  PLEASE STAND BY FOR INSTALLATION.

…WORKING….

INSTALLATION COMPLETE. ORDERS WITHIN PARAMETERS. ACCEPTED.

The line of sleek metal war machines spread out, a faint blue glow about them as they began to advance toward the enemy’s position, the Ukrainian general watching from behind the lines via satellite feed.  The once serene field echoed with gunfire within seconds, the Soviet forces opening up on the advancing robots, their green and chrome metallic bodies slender, but still making fantastic targets.  Nothing happened.  The machine gun fire didn’t slow them, didn’t stop them.  An artillery shell’s whine was heard, then the explosion seen, driving up dirt, grass, debris.  The line didn’t stop, simply walking through the crater left by the shelling, relentlessly moving forward.

“Advance behind the ‘bots,” the general ordered.  “Slowly. Artillery, take their bearings and the force field into consideration as you figure trajectory.”  The Ukrainian forces fell in behind their robotic allies, the infantry nervously looking around, wincing at the sound of gunfire ahead of them, weapons at the ready.  The artillery boomed behind them, arcing up and well over the Doombots at targets beyond them.  

APPROACHING OPTIMAL RANGE. WEAPONS CHARGED.  ENGAGE ENEMY?

The general tapped “yes” on his tablet.

COMMAND ACCEPTED.  ENGAGING ENEMY COMBATANTS.

Five thousand rifles rose in steel hands.  Five thousand visual sensors found targets.  Five thousand laser rifles began to fire as the Doombots kept walking.

WOUNDED ENEMY COMBATANTS. CAPTURE YES/NO?

The general swallowed, tapping yes.

COMMAND ACCEPTED. DISENGAGING 100 UNITS FOR CAPTURE/CONTAINMENT.  FIELD AID YES/NO?

Yes again.

COMMAND ACCEPTED.  ENEMY COMBATANTS RETREATING/RETRENCHING. PURSUE YES/NO?

No.  The orders were clear; let the first few skirmishes retreat and send word back in hopes that the Soviet would realize they no longer held the upper hand, and would sue for peace.

COMMAND ACCEPTED. WARNING.  WARNING.  AIR STRIKE APPROACHING, APPROXIMATELY TWO MINUTES UNTIL ARRIVAL.  ENGAGE FLIGHT CAPACITY YES/NO?

Yes.

A third of the brigade stopped in their tracks, their legs locking together, slowly rising into the air until they reached about fifty feet off the ground, then cutting through the sky as easily and as quickly as a bird, heading toward the approaching bombers and jets.

“Jesus Christ,” the general’s aide muttered, watching as the Doombots dealt out death, seemingly unstoppable.  “Thank fuck he’s on our side.  How many of these do you think he has?”

“What, robots or brigades of robots?”  The general muttered.  “Who knows?” The aide shook her head, eyes glued to the screens.

“Thanks so much for making me feel better.”

“I’m not trying.  Doom is a genius.  And just think, these are only the field troops.  Have you seen the elite forces?”

“No.  Do I want to?”  She asked. In response, the general slid his tablet page over two pages.

“The elite forces are carbon copies of Doom’s armor,” he began, holding out the tablet so she could see. “Robotic, so they have none of his special talents, but they are capable of independent thought, they don’t rely solely on orders.  They command his field forces in Latveria, and it’s said they have more abilities than the ground pounders.”

“Dear God.”  She shook her head.  “Attacking Latveria --“

“Would be, is folly.  No one knows how many of these he has, no one knows how many of the field troops he has.  All of that is secret.  Not to mention the force field generators throughout the country.”

“Again.  Thank God he’s on our side.”

 Victor smiled to himself, watching through the cameras in the visual sensors of the ground troops as they engaged the Soviet throughout Ukraine, looking for weaknesses, areas to improve.  There was always room for improvement.  “Status report.”

FORCE FIELDS HOLDING.  BATTERY CAPABILITY RANGING FROM 80 TO 95 PERCENT.

“Current losses?”

CURRENT LOSSES AT LESS THAN THREE PERCENT, was the answer from one of the Doppelganger Doombots.

“Excellent.  What caused those?”

WIRING DISLODGED DUE TO SHOCK FROM ARTILLERY/BOMBING, FAULTY BATTERY, FAULTY SERVO GEARS IN JOINT AREAS.

“Have the faulty units returned to the technicians,” he ordered.  “Delegate two units per compromised unit for recovery and return operations.”

AS DOOM COMMANDS, the Doppelganger unit bowed its head.  

“What is the situation in Poland?”

ALL DOOMBOTS ARE IN POSITION FOR INTERCEPTION.  NEW PROGRAMMING HAS BEEN DOWNLOADED, INSTALLED, UPDATED.  AWAITING ENEMY COMBATANTS.

“Excellent.  Continue current operational plans.”

 The Ukrainian commanders were effusive in their praise.  The casualty rate had been cut by eighty percent, every skirmish had ended with the Russian forces being forced into retreat, and they had taken back a full twenty miles of front.  “It’s a slow process,” one of them said with a shrug.  “And this is open terrain; I’m not looking forward to clearing cities, even with your ‘bots, Lord Doom.  If you’ll forgive my plain speech,” the man added, looking a little chagrined as he remembered his manners.

“Good soldiers speak plainly,” Victor replied, nodding.  “Taking cities is always a difficult endeavor, major, especially when civilians are at risk, and provocateurs are easily hidden.”

“We’ll work out the strategy,” one of the other commanders said.  “One of the main issues is sniper fire.  They won’t hurt the ‘bots, of course, but the men coming in behind them.”

“The Doombots are fully capable of flushing out sniper nests by tracing the line of fire,” Victor informed them.  “And then flushing out the nests.”

“We’ll work it out,” the commander repeated, though he was jotting that down.  “But so far, Lord Doom, your aid has been invaluable.”  

“Better to put out my neighbor’s fire than to wait until my own wagon catches,” Victor paraphrased one of his people’s sayings.  “My only regret is that it took so long.”

“The past is past, let it stay there,” another interjected, shrugging his shoulders, and they went on to discuss their next strategies.

When the teleconference was finished, he studied the battlefield, gauged the response of the New Soviet, and called for one of the Doppelganger units.  “I must be away for a few hours,” he said.  “Inform me immediately if anything changes.”

YES, LORD DOOM.

Stay Tuned, True Believers!