#but also this feels a little plot-holey
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Am I missing something or is it weird that can Ladybug can apparently summon a new lucky charm in Derision but she can't do the same thing to heal Monarch in Destruction?
#miraculous ladybug#ml derision#derision spoilers#it's very possible i missed something#but also this feels a little plot-holey#anyways i just want to sort this out so i can abuse the destruction-type scenario for hurt-comfort fics but shhhh#i am curious about ppl's theories#like ok MAYBE the lucky charm has to be destroyed first--not by her detransforming--for her to summon a new one?#but that seems like a stretch#maybe she can't summon one JUST to do the miraculous cure? but that's still odd
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I feel you about rdr2, I feel like I'm walking through a desert with no water😭
But if you don't mind me requesting something...
Maybe Sean or Kieran (or whoever you want, I'm fine with anybody) with a crush on s/o who's just an absolute ray of sunshine and they're too nervous to ask s/o out because of this
hii! i'm so glad to be able to do my first request ever! hope you like it! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes - english is not my first language! requests are open. Sorry it took so long to write - it is like...my second time writing an actual thing with plot in english! [not proofread i'm sorry i cringed too hard when i tried to read it] CW: none? i think? mentions of alcohol if you squint in javier's part the spanish petnames he uses are feminine(?) but i think there is no other use of any gender comfirming things so i guess it's gender neutral reader fic? ALSO THEY ARE PROBABLY OOC IM SO SORRY :((( 05.06.2024. signed TEASER 📺 [ BANNERS ARE MADE BY ME! ]
SEAN MACGUIRE
You were ethereal in his eyes. Always shining, blooming, filling every space you were in with joy and feeling of safety. Soft hair sparkling in the sun, pupils always wandering around, looking for a sad soul to cheer up. Hands in the air, moving around uncontrollably when you tried to tell a story, gesturing the things that you were imagining. Truly mesmerising, he felt like he just had to have you, but his every attempt at flirting with you was just taken as a joke, rewarded by a small smile from you, a little giggle, and it broke his heart, making it rush at the same time.
But Sean MacGuire was an impatient man. Impatient and so obvious with his emotions. Expressive, always made it known when he felt good or bad, when he was falling apart (which was a really rare sigh anyways) or his heart was full of passion. But you made it easy to feel euphoric and then send him to the lowest mental state he could ever be. He couldn't wait to tell you how he wanted you to be his and only his, but for some reason - you were always busy, someone always wanted to talk with you, stealing your attencion. And when you were free, he was too stunned to speak. That never happened in his entire life! His never ending monologue, his mouth that was always talking, everything stopped. Sean MacGuire smiled, excused himself for bothering you and left, leaving you confused but a smile didn't leave your soft lips. He was sitting alone, planning a new way to confess to you. Never in his life would he admit that he was, simply but truly, scared. Of rejection? Maybe. Or of the fact that you might take it as a joke. That would be even worse in his eyes. Sean suddenly remembered the fact that Arthur one day came up to him and asked about his relationship with you, he said that it was so horrendously obvious that he likes you, that he's sweet on you, but he also told him that he might be too simple for you. Too straightforward but at the same time - not cultured enough. Bascially telling him that he might be too dumb for you, straight into his poor face, into his lost puppy eyes. The truth was that, in fact, Sean was just lost without you. With you around, he felt like a better version of himself. That's why he wanted you so badly. He asked Lenny to teach him to read, so he could become a well-read person for you. But Sean MacGuire was an impatient man. Abandoning his mission after only few pages. His impulsitivity took over, he decided that if he's not the one for you, it's better to know as soon as it's possible. In case he had to move on, in case you decide to break his young, so obsessed with you heart. Stealing Dutch's cologne, Lenny's good shirt and wearing his only pants that were clean and somehow not holey - he got ready for you. He even washed his hair in the river, using actual soap that one of the girls from the camp once gave him. What a sweetheart. His plans were suprisingly really detailed. Sean wanted to pick some flowers for you and ask you to go to the town with him, he wanted to mount his horse, see you mount yours and go. But his dreams and distant goals got interrupted by hearing your voice coming near his tent. — Sean! Javier was just asking if you... — you didn't finish your sentence. Halfway in his tent, you laid your eyes on him, clearly preparing for some event. A date? Maybe? How could you know? — Oh! Sean, you look really good! What happened? — you looked up, his soft hair, freshly washed, much more shinier, looking healthy for once. — you washed your hair, so it must be something big. — you added, smiling. It was semi-dark in his tent, light being casted only by a little lamp with a candle inside of it. So you couldn't see how his cheeks got redder when he heard your compliment. — well, I actually...You know... — he started, nervously, but who wouldn't be nervous in that kind of a situation? Being caught preparing for a date, that wasn't even accepted by the other side in the first place. — It is something big. — Sean's voice still had his iconic cheerfulness, but you could hear the little shakes in it as well. But you didn't interrupt, you listened. He took a deep breath and said quickly, his accent almost making it incomprehensible — I was wondering if you'd like to go to the town with me and maybe you know have a drink or two? Like a party, just the two of us, you know? Ay, yeah! Actually I also wanted to say that I really like you! Maybe love...Yeah, that might be a better word for that. I love ya. So? Would you like to go with me? — he looked up at you, his heart beating so fast, he could almost hear it. It's now up to you. Do you agree or not?
JAVIER ESCUELLA
Absolutely smitten with you. Sitting by the fireside on a warm night, you were situated at the opposite side of the fire, watching people that were finishing their chores around the camp. Your delicate presence, hair moved by wind, shining eyes. His mind was in a different place. Holding his guitar, trying to play and sing, but you were distracting. It was almost impossible to get him to the state that he forgot how to play, but with you around, he literally seemed like he just bought this intrument, constantly making little mistakes. Blood rushing to his cheeks every time he got out of rhythm or the sound his guitar made was closer to a scratch than to any melody. But you seemed to not mind, accepting him the way he was, quietly giggling, but not laughing at him, you were just so full of happiness, your gaze only encouraged him to keep playing and he loved it. Loved you. Badly.
But he felt like loving you was never enough, since you seemed to never actually acknowledge his feelings, the deep desire that made his dreams full of you. Everything reminded him of you. You joined the gang a few months ago, how could you fuck him up so badly in such a short period of time? Wrapped around your finger, willing to give you the entire world if you asked him to. He just knew that you'd never ask him to, you were just too...good. You never asked for help yourself, but always wanted to help others. Putting everyone above yourself, taking care of everyone, even Micah, who said so much bad things about you, spitting poison at you every time you walked by, but when he felt ill, you still was a first person to give him health cure.
Javier could only watch from afar. Fascinated, hypnotised by your moves, your energy, how your voice could put everyone in a good mood. When you were telling stories, you'd tell them with so much passion, but when someone else needed to be listened - you were all ears, asking questions, made everyone feel welcomed and safe. He sometimes really thought that you are not real, that you are an angel sent to the camp in those hard times.
Lost in his thoughts again, he missed a string while playing and his guitar made another weird sound. Immediately grounded by that, he looked in the direction you were sitting, only to realise - you were not there anymore. He started looking for you, and he saw that you were sitting next to him. How could he not notice? God, were his reflexes that poor? If it was a life threatening situation, he'd probably be dead by now.
— I noticed that you are a bit lonely here, Javier, — the way his name slipped of your lips so softly, how he'd kill to hear his name coming from that sweet mouth again and again, until he lost his senses. — Mind if I keep you company? You seem stressed, is something bothering you? — when he heard your voice, and your body getting a bit closer to him, his muscles tensed. He put his guitar away, gently, laying it on a ground, leaned it against the barrel that was near.
— what can I say, hermosa. — he sometimes called you Spanish pet names, because he was sure you didn't understand them (if you could, well, he was not aware...) — There is that one girl that completely took over my mind and I can't focus on anything else because of her. She's not even mine, but I'm jealous of everyone that makes her laugh. It's probably wrong, but it's the truth. She's like a milagro walking on this sad country, healing everyone with her presence, so I'm almost certain I don't deserve her, but oh...I can always dream, can't I? — he could swear you put a spell on him. He never meant to open up about his feelings, especially not around you, especially talking about you.
What a fool he was. He couldn't even manage to raise his eyes up to meet your gaze, so he was not able to see the sadness flicker in your face, soft sigh escaping your lips, which was a sign of your heart getting a bit broken, he taken it as a sign of stress and fatigue.
— do you want me to help you with asking her out? I'm a woman myself so I know what most of us like to do... — you said, and oh, he knew that it would happen. Your first thought when someone has a problem is to help them out, any way you can, no matter your own feelings and struggles.
— tell me...how your perfect date would look like? I think she's really similar to you, she might enjoy the same things. — he said, still nervous, his eyes locked on the ground.
So you started to talk about your perfect date. How you'd spend it, and his head was full of ideas by now. He knew exactly where to take you, what to do, so when you finished your monologue, he offered, finally looking up, making eye contact:
— are you free tonight, angelita? Your wish is my command. — his cheeks a bit red, the orange light from nearby fire slightly shining on his skin.
Not it was up to you if you'd like to go with him. What do you say?
KIERAN DUFFY
Oh, that poor boy. His heart couldn't take it. The only person that showed him any kind of affection in this camp, the only one that cared, listened to him, believed him. When he was still tied to the tree, he used to spend all day looking at you with fascination, trying to understand who you were to other gang members, his gaze was subtle, always looking away just in time before anyone would notice. But he was sure you would never look at him the way he looks at you, and his heart ached every time he reminded himself of the fact that he was just a stranger in this camp, he was considered a spy, traitor, enemy. Yet you still treated him with such kindness and care, always asking if he needs anything, if you can do something to ease his pain and stress.
Sometimes you sat near him and talked with him, not caring about what others might think, saying that as long as there is no proof of him doing anything wrong, you will not act like he is a criminal. And he was honestly so thankful for that. He was not sure what he deserved to have you as some sort of ally, but since you were the only one he trusted (even if it was only a little bit) he started to actually feel something deeper than friendship towards you.
He didn't want to admit that it was love. But if not love, then what was it? Unreasonable high blood pressure when he saw you, his eyes sparkly, heart beating faster, his body always felt so full of life, shattering when he saw that someone disrespected you or treated you badly. He couldn't do anything, so he just watched when Micah, because he was literally the only one that ever mistreated you, decided to yell at you. He could only sigh, waiting for you to come to him and moan about how you hate this blonde, egocentric guy.
His most common way of showing his affection to you was by taking care of your horse while listening to you, always remembering everything you said, whether it was a mention of your favourite food, people that you like, your dream future or what beautiful clothes you saw at the shop when you travelled to town the other day. Your complaints that you couldn't afford them though... How Kieran wished he could be rich, so he could buy you those clothes, so he could see you happy. But he knew he could never be able to do that.
He dreamed of asking you out. You were on his mind all day and night, but, god, how was he supposed to do that? He couldn't leave the camp, and if he could, it was supposed to be a fishing trip or something, no going to town, no having too much fun, no buying things (he had no money anyways).
So the day you came to him and said that Micah once again told you that you are an useless addition to the camp, instead of passive listening and nodding his head, he actually asked: — how about we go fishing? I will teach you how to do that so next time he says something like that, you can prove him wrong by bringing bunch of fishes to the camp! — his voice started to shake at the end of his sentence, when he understood that he is basically asking you out on an almost date. He looked at you with hope in his eyes.
— fishing? I don't know if Micah would consider fishing as an useful skill...I don't think if anything that is done by a woman is useful in his eyes. I actually believe he might be jealous of Dutch, he wants him all to himself... — you said, giggling a bit. And Kieran had to agree with you. The way Micah was always complimenting Dutch was actually a bit concerning, but as long as he could stay in this camp, he didn't want to ask. He guessed that "that's how the things are in this gang".
— well, you're probably right. He will treat everyone badly regardless of their hard work. But hey, fishing is a nice thing to do anyways, right? I promise you, it's really relaxing! — Kieran was nervous, of course, but you could also see an honest, bright smile on his face, he showed signs of happiness, and that was something really nice to see.
So? Do you agree to go with him? It's your choice.
pls give me any feedback, even as anons <3 much love, teaser
#rdr2 x reader#kieran duffy x reader#rdr2 fic#sean macguire#javier x reader#javier escuella x reader#sean macguire x reader#kieran duffy#arthur morgan x reader#fanfic#rdr2#rdr2 x you#javier escuella#javier escuella x you#sean macguire x you#teaser.writing.rdr2
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opinions on morgwen
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHDSJFH;DAJKSDJ
hot take of the day: morgwen, when looking at just the plot and its existing holes, actually makes more sense than merthur
ik!! ik!! outrageous. proposterous. INSANITY. but morgwen would actually ASSIST in fixing my biggest problem with the entire series, the biggest hole in morgana's very holey character arc: her hatred for arthur.
ive actually talked about this before, in this post:
"for example, when morgana began to hate arthur and want him dead and stuff—that development came out of nowhere. for the entire series up until that point, she had loved and cared for him. now, all of the sudden, she wants him dead?? now, it had made sense for uther. he had done terrible things to morgana and could very clearly see the line between her love and hate for him. you could to watch her tip-toe along it in real time until she began plotting his murder. that arc made sense. but arthur? there was no point where we saw arthur do anything that would make her hate him the way she did. he was just randomly lumped together with uther as another pendragon she had to kill to get the throne. but, again, it doesn't make sense! she never lumped them together. in the episode To Kill the King, morgana directly compares arthur and uther by telling him that, 'You're a better man than your father. Always were.' again, she never lumped them together! yet, later on, that's exactly what she does."
expanding on the beginning of that quote: in my opinion, this is what a character arc should look like: (and behold, the reason this ask took me a hundred years to answer... a CHART (made by moi))
^that is a very basic idea of a character arc, when a person starts one way and ends in another, all because of different inciting incidents forcing them to change. a slightly more complex version of this will look a little like this:
In this one, there is a very clear "Point B" where you can see that they've changed—that there is still more change to come, but that they have grown. this is how Morgana's character arc is shaped. in season two, you can very clearly see that Point B, and it's actually why it's my favorite season of Morgana's character development. season two showcases her gradual downfall as she struggles being a sorceress in the center of Camelot as Uther's own ward. everything you see her feel and struggle with feels very real.
season three is when it all starts to go awry. we obviously know that this is the season that she reaches that horrible Point C, when her character arc is complete and she turns into that wretched villainess we all know and love.
the issue with this is that there is a very important checklist-style of things she needs to believe in order to turn into this person:
✅find out about her magic
✅hate Uther
✅meet Morgause and believe in her goals
✅hate Arthur
i fully believe that she would not and could not change into the person she became without hating Arthur, because that was why she wanted to take the throne—she believed that both Pendragons couldn't be trusted to repeal the magic ban, and would continue the endless cycle of genocide. if she still cared about Arthur, still had faith in him, then she wouldn't have been so desperate to be crowned queen.
do i think that Morgana's faith in him was already wavering? absolutely. but i also believe that something HUGE had to happen to shatter her faith in him entirely. what could have been one of the best ways to do this?
eating away at her affections for him, slowly, with one or two issues before wiping out every good feeling she has ever felt for him with one big incident. how does morgwen tie into this, though?
it's simple: make arthur and gwen's relationship very obvious to morgana. force her to encounter it often. make her uncomfortable, because SHE loves gwen, has always loved gwen, and now her brother who spent years not even knowing who she was is supposedly in love with her?? that would be enough to eat away at anyone's affection for their brother. morgana wasn't stupid. she figured out their relationship very quickly, and was obviously disgusted with the idea. BUILD on that disgust. and then, once its obvious morgana is heart-wrenchingly jealous of arthur, make arthur do something stupid or harmful towards magic. shatter morgana's faith in him.
it would work so perfectly!! everything would fall into place!! all those weird plot holes surrounding morgana's downfall would make a million times more sense. imagine really only loving two people in the world: your best friend, your maidservant, the love of your life and your childhood friend, your ever-lasting nuisance, your brother. imagine them both falling in love while you can only watch helplessly. that's a perfect villian origin story, paired with uther's abuse, morgause's manipulation, and her own alienation from the people around her.
so, i know this was a lot, and took me a hundred million YEARS to respond to, but i'm literally so passionate about this its not even funny. if you want me to expand on anything or if you have any questions, please let me know!!! i love talking about this part of the show:)
#morgwen#merlin#bbcm#bbc merlin#merthur#arthur pendragon#morgana pendragon#gwen merlin#gwen pendragon#merlin bbc#merlin emrys#uther pendragon
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And so, I finished watching this show and you know, dumber than this show can only be the Disney cartoon of the century, for both are storyless, holey, raw and meaningless pictures that make you want to wash your eyes out.
So this is a continuation or addition to the first post about analyzing this "miracle". https://www.tumblr.com/rien-maz/755293709600456704/and-so-i-avoiding-all-spoilers-finished-my
First, I still had hope that Leslie would deign to "plug" the plot holes in the last two episodes, but no, that didn't happen.
After watching, there are still a bunch of questions and here are a few of them:
How did Mei get saved? How did our Sith pretty boy find her? How were the two twins created? Why are they the same person? Why does Darth Plagas show up there? What is his significance? Why doesn't physics work in this show? Why the fuck is Yoda suddenly unable to sense with the jedi force? What role does Mei's mark on her forehead play? Why are the two sisters acolyte? And so it goes on and on ad infinitum.
A little disclaimer: this post will contain rude words and phrases, heaps of sarcasm, and a suggestion that the ratings of this show be collapsed for spitting Leslie Hadland in the face of all Star Wars fans.
Let's start with the seventh episode: Leslie apparently wanted to add action to her terrible picture and filmed a scene of Saul chasing after Mei, trying to mimic Fast and Furious. But!
Before that, I had a question, how does Mei know about the concept of hell? Because I don't remember the star wars universe talking about heaven and hell even once. If my memory serves me correctly, all dead souls "fall into the Force".
Oh yeah, in this fine series we also have the "unkillable protagonist" principle at work, who went through the atmosphere at breakneck speed and didn't even bother to use the Force to slow his fall. Yeah, yeah, screw the basic skills of Force users.
I laughed at the conversation between the Senator and our main antagonist in the form of a green-skinned woman (I didn't even try to remember her name and I won't apologize for that). Did you smell something in that scene?
Oh yes, the romanticization of violence, particularly the dark side of the Force. Leslie, ignoring all the laws of Lucas' universe, made the Sith not the rapists and murderers who are alien to the humanity and compassion that kept slaves during the Emperor's reign on Dromund Kaas, and not only in those times. Even going back to the origins of the Sith, we know that the Sith were a race that lived on Korriban (if I remember correctly), and wow, you wouldn't believe it! They had slaves as a class in society too. Leslie made the Sith the poor saps that crave freedom from Jedi oppression.
Leslie is fucked up if she wants to romanticize those who killed, who betrayed, who plotted against each other, who destroyed, who perverted and who are simply evil in the flesh (the same Nikhilus, Darth Plagas, Darth Bane, Darth Tyranus, Darth Sidious (where else), etc.). Basically, Leslie romanticized Anakin Skywalker's killing of children with such a moment. After all, oh oh oh oh he's a poor guy who chose to be free of a "delusional cult".
Well done! Way to go! Good point, because killing other people is so cool, right, Leslie Hadland? That's what you're doing in this fucking show, saying that all Jedi are fucking egomaniacs who care about their own feelings and emotions (Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi and the rest of the Jedi, along with their codes and teachings, fuck you).
But back to the series and its dumb plot, which there isn't.
Where were we? Oh yeah, on how I'm trashing this whole show and Leslie.
So, let's get on with it. The actors' performance was mentioned in the first post, so I won't repeat for the hundredth time what characters are flat, emotionless and so on. But I will talk about the motivation of the characters, that is, its absence. Seriously, neither the handsome Sith, nor Mei, nor Saul, nor Osha has any motivation. Osha hasn't changed at all since the first episode, she doesn't learn anything and just moves from one point to another just because other characters drag her there.
Zimmir's motivation for taking Acolyte's child as an apprentice is incomprehensible at all, simply because Leslie forgot to tell him what he's for and what powers he has.
I also have a question about the transformation of Oshi's lightsaber from blue to red. Because I only remember about the synthetic crystals that the Sith used to create their sword. But after poking around on the internet, I removed that statement. I didn't get a chance to pick on Leslie, unfortunately.
The biggest complaint about the last two episodes is where Mundi went and why Yoda, being the most powerful Jedi, didn't feel Zimmer cut out a group of Jedi and didn't feel cheated by Rowe (oh! I even remembered her name!) Why does the Jedi High Council care so absolutely nothing about missing and dead Jedi? Oh yeah, Leslie wants to show that, say, look what scum and moral freaks the Jedi are, just selfish!
In general, I could grumble for a long time, but I think you understood the main point and also realized how stupid this series is. As Dmitry Puchkov said "wasted time is a pity. One hundred percent digested feces."
So, in the end, what do we have? Osha and Zimmir's love line; Jedi egomaniacs and the romanticization of violence.
In fact, I suggest that for this spit, no, for the fact that Leslie spit in the face of Star Wars fans, to collapse the rating of this product on all platforms, so that Leslie realized that it is not worth offending fans.
#star wars#star wars the acolyte#mei the acolyte#osha the acolyte#the acolyte spoilers#sol the acolyte#the acolyte#qimir the acolyte#qimir#leslye headland
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Castaway Diva - Wrap Up Review
I'm not quite sure what it was, but something about Castaway Diva felt like something of a throw back to the K-drama golden age of the early 2010s. Perhaps it was the plot(s - there were a lot of them), perhaps it was the characters (who were both deeply traumatised and wonderfully carefree), perhaps it was the way it was a simply just very fun watch (as long as you didn't think about it too hard, once you started asking questions things got a little holey).
Overall I did have a good time watching this; I liked the characters, I enjoyed their different dynamics, I even liked some of the songs, which is not normally the case for me with musical dramas but Dream Us is now on a playlist and I've looked up a few of the other songs too. The story itself was a relatively fun ride too, although it did suffer from being, for lack of a better phrase, very over stuffed. Domestic abuse, identity theft, the politics of the Korean entertainment industry, a social re-intergration plotline, a love triangle, and more all jostled for screen time and dominance and there were definitely times when it felt like were two completely different dramas going on at once, ones which just happened to be sharing sets and a cast. That feeling only grew as the drama progressed, unfortunately, along with the suspicion that, because Castaway Diva couldn't decide on what it wanted to be, both major plotlines suffered as a result.
One thing I did really enjoy the whole way through was the cast. Park Eun Bin was as stunning as always (although for the first 2 episodes it did sometimes feel like she was trying to shake off the last vestiges of Extraordinary Attorney Woo); it was great to see Chae Jong Hyeop in a lead role again; and Hakyeon impressed a lot as the second male lead with an actual heart of gold. I also really enjoyed Kim Hyo Jin as Kim Ran Joo, it was my first time seeing her in any role and she definitely left a very positive impression, so positive that I'm planning to keep an eye on what she does next.
Equally impressive as the adults were Lee Re as young Mok Ha and Moon Woo Jin as young Ki Ho, both of whom put on such compelling performances that I almost wished we could have had a drama solely dedicated to their lives on the island. Their performances and plotline were some of the highlights of the entire show for me and perhaps therein lies the main problem: the first episode was so impactful but so different from everything that came after it that my mind kept drifting back to those first 60 minutes and wanting more, wanting it so much that the fact that there wasn't more felt like a genuine loss, the loss of a very different, much darker, much more serious drama-that-could-have-been.
TLDR Stats
🎧 Music: 7.5/10 - Dream Us is on repeat and the other songs weren't skipped.
🎭 Acting: 8.5/10 - They carried the many plots and they carried them well.
📑 Story: 7.0/10 - The writers should have picked one story to focus on instead of trying to shoehorn two very different it's into one drama. The bits we got of each drama were pretty good and would only have got better if the focus was solely on them.
👩⚖️ Overall: 7.5/10 - I enjoyed it while I was watching it but I doubt I'll be watching it again.
🙆♀️ Rec for: People who are looking for a relatively light, uncomplicated watch with highly enjoyable chemistry between characters although be warned the first episode is anything but light.
🙅♀️ Wreck for: People who like to ask the question "why?" when watching dramas.
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Magnum PI 5.07 “Birthright” review
So the episode is called birthright and while I guess in a way that works, I think it was more an episode on regrets/feel when it comes to parents and children when things get tough.
The case, Higgy’s feels and TC and his mom all deal with the what-ifs and sacrifices and choices we have in life and especially in the relationship between parents and children.
Did all the Magnum being #TeamHiggy (even if he has been for a long time), make me kind of happy? Yes, yes, it did.
I also wonder... did they tell Gordy about them? The gang clearly all know but I feel like we should have gotten something from Katsomoto if he’d know? Or not.
Anyhow, I enjoyed the case and while I was pretty sure it was the ass-holey brother as soon as we met him I did really enjoy the twist with the daughter having actually already sold the necklace.
It’s very on the nose ‘good person’ warning, but hey, I’d sell a necklace fancy family necklace if it meant it might get my mom a life saving operation too so maybe it’s not so weird.
There was actually just the one case + side plot with TC and his mom this episode but the episode just flew by. I actually enjoy it more when there is a more main focus with one side story, because it usually feels more focused and less like you’re being pulled in so many directions. They’ve made “multi” plots work well but I think I prefer this style and focus. It also meant our favourite PIs working together which is also (as fun as other team ups can be) my fave.
Yeah, because I’m pretty exhausted from life in general I just kind of let the episode wash over me in the best possible way and don’t have much to say or too many thoughts.
Juliet feeling guilty about having made a tough choice about her mom and sharing those doubts with Thomas *chef’s kiss* I enjoyed that because it’s legit one of those super hard questions, when someone really can’t take care of themselves at all, are you truly only a good person if you give up your whole life to care for them? Would parents want their kids to do that?
No matter what you do, I think in those hard situations you’d have regrets; the life you could have led if you chose to give up and the regret of not having done enough if you entrust their care to professionals. Anyways, I enjoyed Higgy being emotional and talking a little of her past and feels, because we get it so rarely.
Because her feeling connected and unsure wasn’t the focus of her/ the mains storyline, that little scene at the end felt plenty enough. The talk TC and Cade had about his mom was nice because that was that whole side plot maybe I’d have wanted a little more even though it was totally cute.
Even though we knew TC was going to talk to her, seeing sort of pissed TC was new and strange but yeah, I’d have loved to have had just a bit more of TC’s past maybe in his talk with Rick.
Over all, another freaking enjoyable episode which ended way too soon and can it be next week now thank you? I am actually more excited about the one after (5.09) with Higgy undercover but I think I already said that last week.
Now just because it’s good to be grateful for things in life, let’s collectively be grateful for the the good fortune and bounty of Miggy kisses this season as blessed us with!
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plant matter, part 1: a mid-season update
Veggie garden
This year, I planted two cultivars of tomatoes, but the names are all in Japanese, so I don’t actually have a really good idea of what they are. If it helps, they are アイコ and 甘玉ミニトマト (which just means sweet round mini tomato). I bought them as grafted starts from the garden center near Matsumoto for about ¥250 apiece. A steal!
I live in an apartment and knew I was going to be planting in containers, but I was still a little underprepared for some aspects of this project. The full sun of May turned out to be too strong, and the tall vines now all have a naked midsection from when I had to prune off some sunburnt leaves from their day at the beach. Some strong winds in early June also knocked the pots over a few times. Now, they’re strung up under the bike port to protect from both the sun and the wind. My sometimes kind, sometimes overbearing downstairs neighbor helped me trellis them to the roof. Because of the weird, intermittent sun under the bike port, they’ve grown kind of out of hand shape-wise but are still producing well.
I also have two types of bell peppers , which are are happy in the sun and still live there. The smaller of the two is producing really well, the bigger has yet to show any fruit but has lots of flowers. Bell peppers can be eaten at any point but the sweet reds and oranges characteristic of summertime take their time, so it’ll be a while until I’m eating anything from there.
The growing season in Japan is really, really long; I was buying starts in March and had them planted by April; I’ll probably be harvesting well into October if the temperatures from last year keep up and the late rainy season is any hint. Given how abundant my current setup already feels, I’m looking forward to seeing the creativity my small space will require to keep everything supported and staked. I’m also looking forward to gifting the fruits of my labor to my neighbors, with whom my terrible, terrible garden has been a great starter of enthusiastic yet clumsy Japanese conversation practice.
Next year, I’d like to grow using grow bags instead of containers to maximize size and storage in the off season, and also venture into early season vegetables to hopefully get another harvest out of the long growing period. My neighbor across the street is already on her second crop of the year on the same garden plot, producing fat gourds after a full harvest of snow peas and pea shoots. Bell peppers are also a little slow to produce for my impatience, so I’ll probably also start shishitos to hold over my itchy hands.
Anything can be a houseplant if you try hard enough
Monstera deliciosa and monstera adansonii
I bought my deliciosa for ¥1200 at the grocery store a few weeks after I arrived in Mie, and did nothing to take care of it for the remainder of that growing season as settling in became overwhelming. By the time the long winter dormancy passed, I was realizing that I had wasted several good months of growing and set about taking it seriously. I repotted, fertilized, browsed /r/houseplants, and watched with absolute delight as she pushed out three new leaves in just a few weeks living on my balcony before realizing I needed to repot again to set the sideways-growing stem upright. At time of writing, success of this major transplant is to be determined; the smaller plant is pushing out a pretty pitiful leaf (that I also ripped while staking), but there's no movement on the larger plant. I'm so happy with how this plant has grown.
The adansonii was a recent purchase that came from the same store as the deliciosa. In Virginia, I have a baby adansonii from L, but hadn’t even realized they were the same plant because the leaves on this thing are colossal. I repotted immediately after I brought him home because he was pretty crispy, and I hate the potting mix that my local grocery store uses. Just a few weeks later she’s pushing out big holey leaves.
2. Phalaenopsis, dendrobium, and cattleya orchids
I call these plants rescues, but honestly they probably could have used rescuing from my care at some point. I got the phals for free from the opening of an Italian restaurant downtown, where they otherwise would have gone in the trash. I took them home on the bus, the enormous white flowers hitting me in the face every time we went over a bump. I enjoyed several weeks of the colossal blooms, then cut the spikes back and repotted for the winter dormancy, where I lost several large leaves and was in dire straits for a while. This growing season, I’ve been rewarded with a facehugger amount of fat green roots and a few new leaves, although the period of neglect has left the mature ones pretty pitiful looking. My phals are overgrown, battered, and won’t be winning any contests but I’m holding out hope for some flowers this year. I imagine this is what adopting a retired racing dog is like.
I bought the dendrobiums in bloom from the grocery store. They dropped their flowers and almost all their leaves immediately and looked really fucking terrible. They still kind of do, but I split the plants into three to be more manageable and the new canes are doing better than they were crowded in the same pot. I thought the window hanging might have the best light, but the old canes are kind of long and unwieldy. I don’t think I can cut them because they hold a lot of water, which will help with self-regulation if I travel for a long time, but I hope they know that they hate me and I hate them.
I found this cattleya for Y500 at the grocery store! It also dropped its blooms when I brought it home (are we sensing a theme yet), but I came home from Kyoto last weekend to a new pseudobulb and a renewed hope for blooms this year.
3. Honorable mentions
Ikebana club at school, where I found not just one but two caterpillars in my set of flowers. I absolutely don’t have the touch for this, but it’s very fun. Bonus harvest from a run.
Bucket orchid lives in a blue plastic bucket on the ground in the break room at school, and has for almost three months now. It hasn’t been moved since that time, and has doubled in size. On the last day of exams, I checked and it has a spike. Bonus money tree that lives on my desk.
Bankoyaki is a specialty type of pottery local to my city! There was a fair a few weeks ago, and I picked up some plant pots, dishes, and a nabe pot. If all goes according to plan, these will come home with me to America to feed my ongoing houseplant habit there too.
Camellia, plum, cherry, azalea, hydrangea
The flowering season stretches long in the spring. Cherry blossoms are the most famous, but in March, camellia are king. Their fat bulbs are used to make an oil I use in my hair, and they litter red, white, and pink petals. I visited Tsubaki Grand Shrine with Matthew on the tail end of camellia and the start of cherry blossom, an assault on the senses.
The earliest of the ridiculously pink trees are not actually cherry blossoms but plum, which have a similar appearance but are darker pink with rounded petals. A large orchard in walking distance of my house called 梅林 was where I planned on spotting some of these, but the blossoms were pretty much immediately obliterated by some heavy rain during their peak bloom. A few weeks later, I was enjoying light pink cherry blossoms anyways, and learning more about the difference between the two. My neighborhood is called Sakura, and the namesake turned out.
I wasn’t lucky enough to spot any wisteria this year, but I have a good sense of what they were supposed to look like thanks to a few holdouts at school on the outdoor trellises. These huge purple trees are on my must-see list for next year. Instead, I enjoyed azaleas in my neighborhood, which grow in vivid reds and pinks out of impossible-looking spaces in rock walls and garden pavers.
Last, powered by the late rainy season, is hydrangeas. It’s been lovely to go to spots in Sakura that I discovered were the best viewing places for cherry blossoms and to find that the hydrangeas and magnolias in those same places have exploded into bloom. Nearer to Sakura Station, I saw several types that I had never seen before, as well as a snowball variety that are cartoonishly cute. At the end of June, C and I went to Uji to visit Mimuroto-ji, known for its sprawling hydrangea and lotus gardens.
Fibrous eating
A heavy emphasis on seasonal foods follows through to the availability of certain vegetables during hyperspecific times of the year. At time of writing, I’m finally finding cauliflower, zucchini, and flat beans in the stores despite my previous resignation that I would never really be eating them while living here. I’m not sure how long this will last, but I’ll make the most of this greenery before I have to go back to mushrooms and kabocha squash in the winter, although shiitakes are so stupidly cheap all the time I can’t imagine not eating them whenever I get the chance.
Through the winter, I enjoyed many different types of citrus, including a fat, wide type of orange called sunfruit that I turned into a syrup, and haruka, which look exactly like lemons and taste exactly like lemonade. I think they’re trademarked, so I wasn’t able to get any shoots out of the seeds, but I do have a small army of sprouts from another cultivar called seminoles. In only seven to twelve years, I’ll have free fruit!
Around my neighborhood, a medley of fruit smells emanate from the mostly unattended fruit trees everywhere. Right now, kumquat trees are dropping fruit left and right, which I can pick up off the ground relatively undamaged. I come back from my evening walks with pockets full of dropped fruit and stained fingers from picking ripe wild mulberries. Also growing wild are kiwi, plum, and persimmon trees, which will all come into season slowly over the course of the year.
Soon, we’ll get the expensive dark-skinned melons that Japan is notorious for, but right now I’m also enjoying tiny muscat grapes that have the same texture as popping boba, sweet yellow cherries, and thin-skinned white peaches, all exorbitantly priced.
Thank you, plant matter!
ref:
When Sartre Talked to Crabs, It Was Mescaline https://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/15/weekinreview/15grist.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_aesthetics
and of course, happy 29th to my rose <3
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so i've just watched the creator. and because i'm a little silly about movies sometimes i will talk about what i think of it. like a lil movie review but bite sized since i tend to be fairly concise with my opinions i think maybe.
first off: absolutely insane visuals. fucking wow. holy shit. good lird. incredible cinematography. wild vfx. mega props there. I think the plot was. fine, a bit holey tho. it messes up a bunch of little details and logistics on how things work. which is perhaps a bit disappointing considering how cool it could be, but it's a good message. Tho it's impact is basically COMPLETELY carried by the actors. the sound design is a mixed bag, it has some incredible moments (see (hear?): sound design of the nomad), but also it has some noticably. eh? moments? also i was surprised to learn that it was scored by hans zimmer, considering how ...average it feels. perhaps it's the mix, but i don't feel the magic of a score like dune or interstellar. uhhhhhhh that's about all i can think of at the moment. I enjoyed it and think it is neat, though maybe a bit handicapped in some aspects.
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I headcanon that Jelly talks/texts each other all the time while they're both went back home after summer at cousins Taylor must've got the vibe between them a long time ago every time she sees Belly smile she knows what's up nobody makes her smile like that other than Jeremiah. That's why I find her asking him if Belly looks like a snack and he casually says always with a smile Belly was all shy during that scene it was so cute. Now I'm wondering how is everyone else blind? Even minor characters catch the vibe but people they knew their entire lives don't? Especially since Jeremiah treats her differently than anyone.
OmG yess this is so cute and I'm 100 percent on board with this headcanon 💖. Also I feel like we need to make some post/place for our jelly headcanons or start a hashtag or something for it tbh.
(That's why I feel the writing is sometimes inconsistent or plot holey. Coz we have jelly as bffs and then we have Belly not telling Jere that her cat Mochi died. Now it can be for these reasons:
Steven teased her about her being a baby/immature for being sad over her cat (so she didn't want to share that with anyone else coz she didn't want the same reaction as Steven)
She simply forgot to share
It's lazy writing
Now the saddest one is jelly's friendship too can be sometimes a little one sided(like Belly is not as invested in the friendship as Jere). This is tho a theory I don't like to dwell on. ))
Their family just wants to live in denial lmao.
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This Life is Infinite: Chapter One.
OH YEAH. IT'S TIME, BITCHES!!!
Summary: The Infinity War Fic aka I do whatever the fuck I want with the Russo's canon.
Get ready for the most ambitious crossover in CHC history.
Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin, and Kitty Pryde x Illyana Rasputin.
Rating: M for canon typical violence and death threats.
Word Count: 10k... oops.
Set after "Children of the Gods: Part Three."
Author's Note: Tentatively, I’m back from my hiatus. Things are nowhere near settled with my mental health, but I’m feeling well enough to post again.
I think it mostly goes without saying that updates for this series might be a little irregular going forward; not only do I need to take care of myself, but I also need to find a better balance with posting fanfiction and the rest of my life. As always, I will do my best to be clear with you all about what to expect in terms of updates and wait times.
Thank you again for your compassion and understanding.
Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s
It’s not every day that mysterious, leather-clad men appear –quite literally, considering they teleported in—in your kitchen unannounced.
(Okay, perhaps they don’t qualify as “mysterious” when one of them is your dad, one of them is your brother, and the third is your uncle, but there’s a fourth man with them that you don’t recognize, so you like to think that the principle of the expression remains intact.)
You glance between Nate, Wade, your uncle, and the aforementioned unrecognized fourth man, then lift the box of cereal you’d been pouring into a bowl by way of greeting. “Breakfast?”
***
(The fourth man, as it turns out, goes by the code name “Kronos” –which, in terms of super cool code names, ranks at about an eight.)
“There’s a war coming,” Nate explains while the four of you stand around your kitchen counter. “Apocalypse is stirring. He’ll be sending his allies to Earth to initiate the first stage of the war, so that he’ll encounter less resistance when he comes to rule.”
“‘s called ‘The Decimation,’” Wade interjects as he shovels spoonfuls of Lucky Charms into his mouth. He points at his bowl, then jerks his head at the fridge. “D’ y’all have chocolate syrup?”
“Yeah, second shelf on the door.” You take another bite of your cereal, swallow, then ask Nathan, “What… what happens with ‘The Decimation?’”
“One of Apocalypse’s allies, Thanos, will arrive with his armies and generals. He’ll use his own forces to annihilate the heroes of Earth, then he’ll finish assembling the Infinity Stones and gauntlet and use them to wipe out half of all life across the cosmos.”
You purse your lips together and eye your dad warily. “If… if this was anyone other than you saying this, I’d say this all sounds like a hackneyed comic book and-or movie plot.”
“His information checks out,” Kronos says, voice low and gravelly. “Our cross-temporal intel confirms communications between Apocalypse and Thanos. We might have a few weeks to prepare for Thanos’s arrival –and that’s if we’re lucky.”
Wade snorts and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “handwavey bullshit” under his breath.
You look to your uncle. “And you’re here because…”
“Need to talk to Xavier,” your uncle answers, “and then alert the Avengers and anyone else that can help us face Thanos.”
“Right,” you say slowly. “And you stopped here first because…”
“I was hungry,” Wade blurts as he drizzles more chocolate syrup on top of his cereal.
“You have credibility,” Nathan says while shooting Wade an equally annoyed and endeared look. “Xavier and Piotr listen to you, and the rest of the X-Men listen to them. We can’t afford to deal with a bunch of hesitating and infighting right now. We need to get our shit together and defeat Thanos, or the world as we know it is fucked.”
“Question.” Wade lifts his spoon. “Does Donald Trump die in this decimation bullshit?”
“We’ll deal with him later,” your uncle stage-whispers to Wade.
“If you’re all sure…” You wait for all four of them to nod, then sigh and shrug. “Alright. I think most of the X-Men are training right now. Let’s go talk to them.”
***
“This all sounds fucking insane.”
Wade gasps. The eyes on his mask widen as he lifts a gloved hand to where his mouth is under his mask. “James Doohan used a no-no word! My goodness gracious golly!”
Scott Summers scowls, but otherwise ignores Wade. He turns to the Professor, expression incredulous. “Do you believe… any of this?”
Xavier grimaces. “Our sources through Kronos” –he gestures to your uncle’s colleague—“have been confirming the intentions of Apocalypse for several years now. The difficulty was always in determining when Apocalypse would act, and in which timeline –though, now that we have Cable’s intel, we’ve been able to figure those two details out.”
“If Thanos is as powerful as you’re saying,” Ororo pipes up, looking at Nathan, “then how are we supposed to defeat him?”
“Any way we can,” Nathan fires back, expression grim.
“Our intel says that Thanos only has three of the six Infinity Stones, along with the gauntlet,” Kronos adds. “If we can keep the last three stones out of his hands and defeat his armies here on Earth, we’ll have better odds of facing Apocalypse down the road.”
“Right,” Jean says. “And where are the last three stones?”
“The Mind Stone is in the possession of Vision, an android created by Ultron, who now works with the Avengers,” Kronos explains. “The Time Stone is in the possession of Doctor Stephen Strange, who leads an order of sorcerers and magic users in New York. The Soul Stone… has yet to be located.”
“And we’re sure that Thanos is coming here?” Ororo asks, brows raised in skepticism.
“One of the unifying features across the pertinent timelines is a battle that takes place on Earth, specifically in the country of Wakanda,” Kronos answers. “Regardless of the other features in the timeline, there is always a major confrontation between Thanos and the forces of earth there.”
“Great,” Rogue deadpans, expression flat. “Now we just have to convince them to let us in. ‘Excuse me, your Majesty T’Challa, but there’s an evil spaceman that is collecting all powerful rhinestones and he’s going to come here to try and wipe out half of all life on Earth, so we need you to let us into your country with strict visitation policies to we can help you fight him.’ Yeah, that’ll go over real well.”
“We don’t have time to waste on sarcastic bullshit,” Nathan grits out, cybernetic eye flaring as he glares at Rogue. “We’ll handle getting the Avengers and Wakanda on board,” he says, turning to the Professor. “I take it we can trust you to get your team and Magneto collected?”
“I’ll contact Erik,” Xavier promises before looking over at your husband. “Piotr, would you mind calling your family? I believe, given the severity of the coming conflict, having as many hands as possible would be in our best interests.”
Piotr nods. “Konechno –of course.” He looks up at you from where he’s sitting, confusion clear in his sky blue eyes—
“You good to come with us?” Nathan asks, tapping your shoulder lightly to get your attention. “We’ll need help talking to Stark.”
“Huh? Uh –yeah. Sure.” You look back at Piotr; the request to ask for five minutes, just five minutes, to talk to your husband is on the tip of your tongue—
Nate tugs you –gently—a couple inches closer, then says, “Bodyslide by five.”
The room blurs, then disappears from view.
***
You’ve only bodyslid with Nathan a handful of times –and each time you do, you’re always caught off guard by how fucking weird it feels.
Your stomach lurches like you’ve just gone down the steepest drop on a rollercoaster, even though the ground remains steady beneath your feet. In a flash, there’s a brand new room in front of you –sleek, monochromatic cabinets, white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and fixtures, the works. The space oozes sophistication, function, style –and money. So much money.
Given everything you’ve heard about Tony Stark, it makes sense.
“Deep breaths,” Nathan says. He places a steadying hand on your shoulder while you blink rapidly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
You do your best to comply –though it’s a bit difficult, given that your brain is shrieking ‘sensory overload’ while trying to adjust to the new lighting, the new sounds, the sensation of having moved without really having moved at all, at least in the sense of walking or riding in a car—
And then alarms start blaring. Red lights flash, klaxons go off, the works.
Wade swears and claps his hands over his ears. “Christ! For a guy who has literal robots that can wipe his ass with dollar bills, you think he’d invest in something a little easier on the ears!”
“Wilson!” The klaxons and red lights cut out, replaced by various whirring noises and the sound of hurried, angry footsteps. “I swear to God, if you’ve hijacked one of my jets again, I’m gonna –who the fuck are all of you?”
Tony Stark looks… nothing like what you see in the papers. Granted, his face and hair look largely the same, but he’s not wearing the crisp, stylish suits that all the magazines, articles, papers, and interviews feature him wearing. He’s got on a worn, holey Metallica shirt, ripped, grease stained jeans, and a pair of scuffed sneakers that look like they might’ve been purchased ten years ago, for all that they’re barely holding together.
The army of security bots hovering and whirring around him, however, do fit his press image.
“Jon Snow!” Wade chirps, waggling his fingers at the harried “genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.” “Long time, no talk. How’s Daenerys doing?”
“Summers, would you do me a favor and put your psychopath on a leash?” Tony asks, tone less than polite or pleasant as he focuses on Nate. “Preferably a nice short one that’s far away from me?”
“We’re here to talk,” Nathan says –though he does stop Wade from trying to play with the knives in the block on the kitchen counter. “It’s a matter of life and death. The well-being of the entire universe is at stake.”
“Yeah, been there, done that,” Tony says, looking none too impressed.
“One of your colleagues may have mentioned his name,” Kronos interjects, taking a step forward. “Does the word ‘Thanos’ ring any bells?”
Tony’s expression sobers for an instant, but he hides it quickly enough. “This is private property, and you’re all—”
A red being with a green suit and a yellow gem in the center of his forehead emerges from the floor. He places himself between Tony and the rest of you. “Would you like me to escort them out, Mr. Stark?”
“Ah, Casper the Friendly Android with No Concept of Personal Boundaries Despite the Infinite Knowledge!” Wade fires back, waving cheerfully. “How you doing, twenty-twenty?”
Vision sighs, longsuffering. “You have been expressly forbidden from these premises, Mr. Wilson.”
“Unless he’s here under my direct supervision,” Nathan fires back. “Stark, we need to talk about this—”
“Tony?” A tall, elegant woman with red hair wearing a tailored, navy blue dress walks up behind the man in question. She flashes you all a polite smile, but there’s no missing the way her gaze cautiously assesses each one of you. “I’m guessing these aren’t –oh. Wade’s here.”
Wade waves in response. “Hi, Miss Potts! How’s being a CEO?”
“It’s going very well, thank you,” Pepper replies politely –though, this time, she’s scanning the room for missing objects and-or visible damage. When nothing turns up, she looks back at Tony. “Are we escorting them out?”
“They claim to have information about the end of the world,” Tony says, tone flippant –though the grave expression on his face belies his snark. “About Thanos.”
Recognition flashes over Pepper’s face, though her polite mask never fully slips. She nods, then says, “Are we going to listen to them?”
“Probably should,” Tony replies in the same lackadaisical tone. “I’m not turning off the security drones while Wilson’s here, though.”
“Just for that, I’m pissing in your Ficus before I leave,” Wade huffs.
“That seems like it’s for the best,” Pepper tells Tony, smiling going tight at the edges while she stares at Wade. She takes a breath, steeling herself, then steps past Tony and nods at the rest of you in greeting. “Sorry for the confusion. Would you mind coming with us, so we can talk somewhere more comfortable?”
***
“I started connecting the dots after Thor left,” Tony explains, twirling a pencil between his fingers as he paces back and forth. “He mentioned Thanos briefly –but with the destruction and repurposing of Loki’s staff, the straggling records of Dormammu’s attack and the use of the Time Stone by Strange, the roles that the Tesseract and Loki’s staff played in the attack on New York by the Chitauri…” He sighs, pausing to stare out at the window at some unseen object before grimacing and shrugging. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
You’re all gathered in a conference room –which, as with the kitchen, carries the same modern, sleek style. Floor to ceiling windows show off the training grounds and the forest that conceals the base from the rest of the world. A massive plasma TV takes up one of the far walls, while the other walls are taken up by various dormant, holographic and electronic displays (made by Stark himself, no doubt). A black, oblong table sits in the center of the room, with leather, silver studded swivel chairs positioned around it.
“How many are there?” Tony asks, looking first at Kronos, then at Nathan. “How much time do we have?”
“There are six Infinity Stones in total,” Kronos says. “Thanos already has three –the Space stone, which was contained by the Tesseract, the Reality stone and the Power stone. Your colleague, Vision—” he gestures to the android “—is in possession of the Mind Stone already, and Stephen Strange has the Time Stone. Our agents have been unable to confirm the whereabouts of the Soul Stone, but we’re certain that Thanos doesn’t have it.”
“Yet,” Tony adds, tone pessimistic.
“As far as time goes, we have a few days at most,” Nathan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe a week, if we’re lucky.”
Tony grimaces. “That doesn’t bode well for rebuilding international relations on a dime. Or team morale for that matter.”
“Sort it out,” Nathan gravels out. “We’ve got bigger issues.”
“We won’t have time for issues if we can’t even pull a team together,” Tony snaps.
“If it helps…” Kronos withdraws a flash drive from his jacket pocket and holds it out to Tony. “The evidence of Thanos’s collection of the stones and his plans to come here.”
Tony accepts the flash drive. He turns it over in his fingers a couple times –no doubt mentally comparing the drive to the technology he’s created—then pockets it. “And Xavier’s on board with all this?”
You blink when you realize everyone’s staring at you. “Uh –yes. He’s contacting Erik Lensherr for some additional support, and the rest of the X-Men are ready to take on Thanos as well.”
“Great.” Tony stares down at the table for a moment, expression slightly melancholy but otherwise inscrutable, but then he snaps back to his usual self. “Good meeting. I’ll text you with the details.”
“Ooh, does that mean we’re trading numbers?” Wade gasps, pressing his hands on either side of his face. “I’ll put you on my favorites list.”
“I’ll contact Xavier,” Tony amends, shooting Wade a slightly harried look.
“We’ll be ready,” you assure him, at a loss for what else to say as you hook your arm around Wade’s to keep him from messing with the holographic display system.
“Vision will escort you out,” Pepper says with a polite smile and nod.
“I’ll make you a friendship bracelet, Tony the Tiger!” Wade calls as you and Nathan gently usher him towards the door. “Wait –stop shoving me! I need to get his wrist size!”
“Later, gorgeous,” Nate says with a barely suppressed smile.
Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh, but the stony foreboding weighing down your gut makes it too hard to even muster up a chuckle –especially when you catch Tony slumping down into one of the conference room chairs with a despairing expression on his face. You force yourself to focus on getting Wade out of the Avenger’s headquarters without stealing anything –though that does little to calm your swirling thoughts. How in the hell are we gonna pull this off?
***
“Are you okay?”
You sigh, instinctively wriggling back against Piotr’s chest as he lays down behind you. “Define ‘okay.’”
It’s nearly midnight now. Between contacting other allies for help –Nathan had you all bodysliding around New York for the better part of the day to reach out to the Hell’s Kitchen figures—and learning up about Thanos’s army and what could be expected in a confrontation against him, you didn’t get home until well after dinner.
You’re in bed now, too tired for anything else. You stare out the windows that overlook the balcony, purposefully trying to keep your mind blank so you don’t grow overwhelmed by the chaos buzzing in your brain.
Because this is insane. This is beyond mutant trafficking or petty grievances between groups of mutant rivals or even being gunned down by the mafia. This is beyond abusive parents, groups of hateful bigots, or anti-mutant legislators.
It’s –quite literally—the fate of the entire world. The entire galaxy. Based on Nathan’s reports of the future, half of all life is wiped out. People, animals, plants –all gone, dissolved into piles of ash… and for what? So some egomaniac can have his moment of glory?
Your stomach curdles when you even try to contemplate a life without Piotr.
“Hey.” Piotr draws you in close when you start crying. “Tische, myshka. Everything is okay.”
“But it’s not.” You sniff, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “Nothing about this is fucking okay, Piotr. Someone’s gonna wipe out half of the damn universe because he wants to jerk off to it later.”
“He has to go through us, first,” Piotr reminds you as he presses soft, sweet kisses against your cheek.
“We don’t have the numbers,” you point out bleakly. “We don’t have the ammunition. We don’t have the time to make a solid plan, or to prepare any extra defenses, or—”
Piotr hugs you tight. He kisses the top of your head. His hand strokes up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you.
You grip his other hand, holding him close to you. You focus on how warm and solid he is. How wonderful he is and how lovely your life is with him. “I love you, Piotr.”
“And I love you, Y/N.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and cry some more.
***
The call comes in at five thirty in the morning.
“Stark’s brought around the other Avengers and Wakanda,” Nathan says, sounding far more alert than you ever will at this godforsaken hour. “We’re lifting off at seven.”
“Roger that,” you manage while Piotr turns on the bedside lamp and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. “We’ll be ready.” You set down your phone when the call ends, then groan and drop your head into your pillow. Why can’t the end of the world ever happen in the afternoon?
***
The Blackbird jets are loaded to maximum capacity. Aside from carrying the X-Men and the X-Force exclusive members, you’re also ferrying the Hell’s Kitchen vigilantes, Piotr’s family and Allison, your uncle and his team, and the younger children and their parents to Wakanda for safe-keeping (your uncle’s reasoning was that an enemy of the institute might notice the sudden lack of protection and decide to attack the younger, more vulnerable students and their families for vengeance, so it was better to be safe than sorry).
You keep close to Piotr or to the cockpit, but there’s still no avoiding the tense, cramped feeling.
You’re not the only “birds” in the sky, either. It’s practically a whole convoy, flying out to Wakanda in what might’ve been a formation if Wade didn’t occasionally grab the control and try to do a “barrel roll.” Magneto and his forces are flying in their own airship, while the Avengers are leading their pack in Tony’s custom, “cutting edge of technology” jets.
You watch the small fleet of jets that belong to the Avengers, lips pursed into a tight line. Your gaze darts over to the navigation board every few seconds, tracking your miniscule progress across the Atlantic Ocean towards Wakanda.
There’s a heavy sigh behind you, and then an even heavier pair of arms settle around your shoulders. “Myshka. You should rest.”
You “hmm” softly to let Piotr know you heard him, but you don’t step away from the cockpit door.
He kisses the top of head and starts gently rubbing your neck with his thumbs. “Will be several hours before arrival, dorogoy. There is nothing you can do until then.”
“It feels like wasting time,” you murmur back –because, naturally, Piotr’s seen to the heart of the issue already. “We’ve got so much to do.”
“And we can do nothing until we arrive in Wakanda.” Piotr kisses your temple, then gently nudges you away from the cockpit. “Come sit with me, lyublyu. You will need full energy when we land.”
And that, above all else, is the only reason you let Piotr usher you over to the nearest seat.
You crawl into his lap once he sits, curling up in his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder and let his warmth combined with the gentle thrum of the jet’s sonic engines lull you to sleep.
***
Wakanda is simultaneously everything and nothing like what you expected.
There’s a force shield that surrounds the inner part of the country that gives way as the convoy of ships pass through it. It almost seems to shimmer out of view before revealing an elegant, shining palace and curved, glimmering towers that comprise the larger part of the city. Lush jungle and towering, ice-capped mountains border the city, split by a winding river and rushing waterfalls.
It almost looks too beautiful to be real.
The awe-inducing visuals and technology don’t stop as the convoy flies out to a glittering, black glass structure that, on the navigation board, is labeled as the lab of Princess Shuri. The convoy swoops around to a massive hangar at the base of the building, landing just inside on the polished stone and metal floor.
Waiting for all of you in the hangar is King T’Challa Udaku; he’s wearing a black robe embroidered with silver thread and a vibrant kente scarf, and generally looks every bit as poised and unflappable as he did in the UN interviews. He’s flanked by his Dora Milaje soldiers –who are undeniably badass with their armor and spears, and you catch Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty all staring at the women in awe—and his partner, Nakia, and his sister, Princess Shuri.
Tony and Professor Xavier handle the introductions with the King, which lets you stretch and take in the hangar and throngs of superheroes. You recognize a few of them –Captain America aka Steve Rogers, Ant-Man aka Scott Lang and his entourage --including a man with dark hair styled like Elvis that you recall seeing in some sort of news interview a while back and a young woman with curly brown hair and warm eyes that’s holding his hand-- and War Hero ,aka James Rhodes, aka Tony’s best friend and “work wife”—but some of the entourage members are new to you.
You take a moment to stretch out your back –sleeping in Piotr’s lap isn’t the worst quality rest you’ve ever had, but given the configurations of the jet seats it was a little cramped—and admire the glimmering, inlaid lights on the hangar ceiling. Swanky.
“We have space prepared for the upcoming preparations and hosting all of you,” T’Challa says, voice cutting through the din of the crowd with ease. “If you would all follow Princess Shuri, please.”
Shuri smiles, then motions for everyone to follow her out of the hangar.
Half of the Dora Milaje break away from the formation, keeping a protective line between the princess and everyone else.
You fall into stride alongside your husband, well-practiced by now at matching your steps to his long stride.
***
The “prepared space” winds up being three massive rooms, each with smaller rooms sectioned around the main spaces, a kitchen-slash-rec area that joins the three massive rooms in the center, and three large, communal style bathrooms with multiple stalls for toilets and showers. The main rooms have several long, workstation style tables at them, with some beds stationed at the fringes, and the smaller rooms function only as bedrooms, mostly for the families with kids and the handful of couples present.
“This interface,” Princess Shuri says as she taps on a small disk embedded into the wall, “will let you contact security and staff if you have questions or need to speak with someone. There’s one in each room, for easy access. It will begin glowing and beeping if someone’s trying to send a call to you; you answer by pressing the base,” she explains, demonstrating on the disk.
“We’re expecting another group of people,” Tony pipes up. “Strange is collecting some of our allies from the South Eastern Quadrant. They should be here in the next sixteen hours, give or take.”
Shuri nods. “We’ll contact you when they arrive.” She offers the group a magnanimous nod and smile, then strides out the hall you all entered through, flanked by the Dora Milaje soldiers.
For a moment, no one moves. You all stand around, hesitating as you all try to take in the new scenery and space.
Alex moves first. She sighs, then grabs her duffel and strides towards the nearest workroom. “No point in waiting.”
Her initiative seems to jolt everyone else out of their daze. Everyone sections off, largely sticking with the groups of their original affiliation.
You amble alongside Piotr, peering around the workroom as you try to decide where to set your pack. Here goes nothing.
***
We’re staring down the apocalypse, you muse as you watch everyone set up shop, and it’s all coming down to sewing machines.
It’d come as a shock when Alexandra had lugged the sleek, white machine out of its carrying case. She’d set it on one of the tables, then lifted bolts of thick, rugged Kevlar out of one of her duffels next. Thread, scissors, measuring tape, and gridded cutting boards follow the Kevlar—
And then the sewing machine jammed as soon as Alex turned it on.
“Ty meshok der'ma,” Alex mutters under her breath as she fiddles with the internal mechanisms of the sewing machine. She glares at the gears, grumbling and swearing while she prods at them with a pair of tweezers. “Kakogo khrena tvoya problema?”
The situation seems mundane in its inanity.
The end of the damn world, and we’re being thwarted by twenty pounds of plastic and metal.
“Day mne poprobovat'.” Nikolai crouches down next to his wife. He adjusts the reading glasses perched on his nose, then aims a small flashlight at the interior of the machine. He murmurs and tuts in Russian while prodding at the machine –and then he makes a soft noise of exclamation. “Broken needle. Pryamo tam.”
“Sukin syn.” Alex uses her telekinesis to draw out the metal shard, then lets out an exasperated sigh and spreads her arms when the machine finally makes the proper start up noises. “Thank you.”
“Be nice,” Nikolai chides her with a teasing grin. “Is uncomfortable, having metal stuck in organs. You would not want to work either.”
“I’ve had metal in my organs,” Alex grumbles as she gets her sewing machine configured. “I still managed.” She smirks when Nikolai laughs, then kisses her husband’s cheek before motioning for you to approach. “Come here, ptitsa. I want to reinforce your suit; I need your measurements.”
You round the table, shucking off your sweatshirt so Alex can measure your torso. “Is there anything I need to do?”
“Just hold still, malenkiy,” Alex murmurs as she runs her tape measure around your waist.
“I make no promises,” you joke.
Alex snorts, then moves her measuring tape up to your ribcage.
***
The waiting is, somehow, worse now.
At least on the plan there was a promise of a destination. A sense of the temporary, that you’d be up and moving and doing again within a few hours.
Unfortunately, reality is so often different from how you envision it, just as it is now. Because the reality of the situation is that there are only a limited number of people capable of helping. Nate and Tony are working with the Princess to configure weapons to fight Thanos’s forces, Hank and the healers are preparing a makeshift medical bay, Frank, Wade, Mikhail, and Neena are cleaning and checking guns, Alex, Piotr and Nikolai are taking turns working on fabricating armor for those who need it—
Leaving you with nothing to do. Aside from keeping those who are working well fed and hydrated and managing the kids, all you can do is sit and watch while everyone else prepares.
It’s agony. Your chest aches from stress, and your stomach’s churning so much you can barely choke food down at mealtimes. I need to help more. I need to do something, dammit.
It’s like being in line for random execution and having no idea whether you’re going to be shot or not.
You stay close to Piotr. You run food and snacks and drinks for anyone who needs it. You help manage the kids when the need arises –but since most of their parents are here, the incidents are far and few between.
You sit. And you wait.
It’s all you can do.
***
“Absolutely not.”
“You need to be reasonable.”
“I am. It’s perfectly reasonable to keep a fourteen-year-old off a fucking battlefield!”
Alex sighs. She leans back in her seat and raises an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. “Normally I would agree, but I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter. Your ability to control her is notably lacking.”
Artemis huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You try reining in a teenager who’s realized there’s no consequences to her actions.”
“I’m not judging, merely observing,” Alex assures her daughter. “But, at any rate, it’s not unreasonable to predict that she’ll join the fray at some point. Body armor is a necessity.”
“It’s an invitation! She’ll take it as permission!”
“Artemis?” Allison sticks her head into the room, then strides over to her mentor-slash-surrogate mother. “Is everything okay? Who’s getting permission to do what?”
“No one is,” Artemis grumbles, even as she holds her arm out so the teen can lean against her side. “Especially not you.”
Allison lets out a disgusted sigh and rolls her eyes. “I already told you—”
“You’re not fighting.”
“I can handle myself!” Allison snaps. She jerks away from Tatianna, scowling. “You’re treating me like a baby!”
“Compared to me, you are a baby,” the older woman points out drily.
“It’s not your burden to bear,” Alex interjects, fixing the testy teen with an even –though not harsh—stare. “Teenagers shouldn’t have to fight for the future of the world. That’s for adults to handle.”
“No one gets to decide,” Allison grits out, “what my burdens are. And this isn’t about ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t.’”
The corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. She looks up at Artemis, brows raised.
Artemis sighs. She tips her head back, staring up at the ceiling, then looks down at Allison. “You need body armor to keep you safe. That does not mean, however, that you’ll be joining us in the fight against Thanos.”
Allison sweeps her tongue along the inside of her cheek. She crosses her arms and cocks her head to the side. “Pretty sure you don’t get to decide that.”
“Pretty sure you should listen to me,” Artemis fires back, “since I have more experience and am telling you that it’s too much for you to handle.” She lets out an exasperated breath when Allison rolls her eyes, then waves her hand dismissively as if to say ‘I tried.’ “Get her set up.”
Alex nods, then waves Allison over. “Alright, malenkiy. Let’s get you sorted.”
***
“Are you asleep?”
“Nyet.” Piotr rolls over, drapes an arm over you, and kisses your forehead. “I would ask you the same, but…”
You manage a small chuckle. “Pretty obvious answer, yeah.”
The two of you are in one of the private rooms –if only because (aside from your status as married) it has a bed big enough to accommodate Piotr. There’s a small window that overlooks a cavern beneath the lab. Dim, blue light seeps through the glass pane, but it’s not enough to properly illuminate the room.
Piotr’s fingers skim over your upper arm. “Why are you not sleeping, myshka?”
“Can’t,” you admit, voice wavering. You take a deep breath through your nose and try to calm yourself. “I just… I can’t handle not doing anything. It gives me too much time to think about what might happen.”
Piotr croons gently, drawing you in closer so he can tuck you against his chest. He cradles your head with one massive head. “Dorogoy. You know such things are not good for you.”
“Yeah, I know,” you grumble, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Doesn’t mean that knowledge stops my brain any.”
“Ya znayu,” Piotr murmurs as he kisses your temple. “But everything is going to be alright, myshka.”
“Except it really might not be,” you argue, voice shaking. You grip the material of his shirt, as though he might be wrenched away from you at any moment and whisked away into the wind. “It really might not, Piotr.”
Your husband doesn’t say anything in response to that. He merely holds you closer still and strokes his fingers through your hair.
You press your forehead against his chest and start weeping quietly.
***
The second day is much like the first –a slow, agonizing crawl punctuated by overwhelming anxiety and exhaustion.
You linger at the table where Nate, Tony, and Ellie are modifying guns, handing the three various tools and materials when they ask for it. You watch their progress numbly, brain devoid of anything other than wordless worry.
At least, you watch until Nate texts Piotr to come get you.
“Davay, myshka,” your husband coaxes as he lifts you off your stool. He grunts slightly as he shifts you into a bridal-style hold, then carries you away from the table and out of the room. “Let’s have lunch.”
“But—”
“Is important to stay fed and hydrated.”
“—I was helping.” You peer past Piotr’s arm –then sigh when Nathan gives you a sympathetic, concerned smile and waves you along. “Baby—”
“Just for little bit.” Piotr sets you down when you ask, but he keeps a hand on your shoulder, just in case. “Is not good to sit and stew in anxiety.”
You drop your gaze to the floor. “You can’t prove anything.”
Piotr lifts his hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek. He strokes his thumb against your skin, waiting until you look up at him before speaking again. “Come have lunch with me, moya lyubov’,” he says with an adoring smile (which you’re certain is a deliberate, tactical move on his part to make sure you don’t try and argue, and dammit if it isn’t working). “I would enjoy your company.”
You scuff the toe of your sneaker against the floor, but ultimately acquiesce. “Alright. I guess I should take a break.”
***
The snooping starts after lunch, while Alex is chewing Frank out for spray-painting his bullet proof vest.
“What, are you looking to ruin perfectly good Kevlar?” Alex gripes as she tosses Frank’s “Punisher” vest aside. “You want to break down the material? Get shot out like some schmuck because you decided to be an artist?”
“It’s strategic,” Frank argues with a good-natured, crooked grin. “Keeps my enemies’ line of sight trained on where I have the most protection.”
Alex nods and makes a sarcastic noise of assent. “‘Strategic.’ Is that what it is? Ya ne mogu v eto poverit'. V moye vremya my nazyvali strategiyu pobedoy, a ne stavili svoyu grebanuyu vizitnuyu kartochku na kazhdoye sovershennoye nami proklyatoye ubiystvo. Get your ass over here, drama boy.” She scoffs and starts measuring Frank’s chest and shoulders. “‘Strategiya,’” she scoffs. “What a load of horse shit.”
“Akh akh,” Nikolai tuts as he walks into the room with a plate of food and glass of water. “What is happening here?”
“I’m pretty sure I upset the apple cart, sir,” Frank says, unabashed.
Nikolai chuckles while Alexandra brings up to speed, ranting in irritated Russian. He sets the plate and glass on the table next to his wife, kisses her head, then ambles back out to the kitchen—
And that’s when you notice it. Or, rather, her.
Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow. Renowned spy, assassin, weapons and espionage expert, and former member of the Avengers if the debacle surrounding the Sokovia Accords is to be believed.
She’s sitting at the kitchen counter on barstool, tapping away at her phone –which isn’t inherently suspicious, but her line of sight lets her look directly into the room you’re all situated in and—
She’s watching Alex.
At first you think she might be watching Frank (which, fair enough, having a mass murderer, somewhat unstable vigilante around is a reasonable cause for caution). But when Frank gets up and walks out (probably to go find Karen), Natasha doesn’t even move. Her gaze –when she’s not looking at her phone—stays fixed on Alexandra while she works at her sewing machine.
For once, you’re grateful Piotr is as large as he is; he makes a great hiding spot to do countersurveillance from.
Natasha approaches slowly, but deliberately. She talks to someone on her phone –whether she’s faking or not doesn’t matter to you, because she still uses it to get off the barstool and amble around while she’s talking. Then, she has a conversation with Captain Rogers, which she uses to get a few feet closer to the doorway.
At some point, you’re not certain if she realizes you’re watching her, only because she gives up the pretense of trying to hide her snooping entirely. She leans against the doorframe, watching Alex intently while she marks, pins, and cuts out fabric.
It’s Illyana who has enough of the whole thing first. Three minutes into Natasha standing in the door way, the blonde sighs, sets her phone down on the work table, and glares up at the red head. “Kakogo khrena ty khochesh?”
Natasha purses her lips slightly. She acknowledges Illyana with a brief glance, then turns her focus back to Alex. “Alexandra.”
“Natalia,” Alex says by way of greeting, not even bothering to look up from her work. “Are you here to help, or are you here to waste my time?”
She grimaces, but recovers and smiles politely. “It’s been a long time.”
“So, you’re here to waste my time,” Alex surmises as she pins a pattern to a piece of heavy black Kevlar.
Natasha swallows reflexively, then turns on her heel and walks away.
***
Half an hour later, it’s Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes’s turn.
The two supersoldiers are far less covert than Agent Romanoff. They stand in the middle of the rec room, a few feet away from the door, and don’t make any attempt to hide their conversation or the fact that they’re watching Alex (and, to some extent, her children and Nikolai as well).
Illyana says something to her mother a few times, but Alex waves her off –and, in general, seems unbothered. “U nas yest' rabota, snezhinka. U nas yest' rabota.”
“Did you know him?” you ask, later, when the Rasputin kids are out of the room. “The Winter Soldier?”
You’ve heard enough through the grapevine to know about the basics of the man’s story –captured by Hydra, experimentation, brainwashing, being coerced into murdering.
(It all sounds chillingly familiar.)
“We crossed paths,” Alex admits with a shrug. She slides a piece of ceramic armor plating inside a Kevlar pouch, then starts sewing the pouch shut. “Overlap was common back in the day.”
“Do you think he remembers you?” you murmur, glancing out at the kitchen (fortunately, Rogers and Barnes are gone for now).
Alex pauses. She purses her lips, then shrugs and resumes working. “I don’t know. He went through a lot with the forced mind wipes. There’s really no way of knowing.”
“Are you going to be in trouble if he does remember you?”
Alex huffs and favors you with a gentle smile. “I’ve gotten out of worse, ptitsa. Don’t worry so much.”
You say that like it’s easy, you think while the knot in your stomach coils tighter.
***
There’s a brief reprieve around dinner. You even manage to relax a little, smiling and chuckling as Piotr and Mikhail bicker and generally irritate each other as much as humanly possible.
Work starts up once more as soon as everyone’s done eating. You nestle yourself against Piotr’s side, relaxed via the virtue of being too tired to be stressed—
And then Tony Stark walks in.
Or perhaps “walk” isn’t the right term. He moves with an air of grandeur and utter self-assurance –which, even with your limited exposure to Tony Stark, you can tell is a “brand standard” for him. He tosses an apple up and down in one hand as he breezes along, expression blasé to the point of looking disinterested as he strides up to the table where Alexandra works.
If it weren’t for Natasha, Captain Rogers, and Sergeant Barnes scoping out the Rasputin matriarch earlier, you would’ve pegged Stark’s visit as entirely coincidental.
“What’s your deal?” Tony asks, leaning against the table next to where Alex is stationed at her sewing machine.
No pretense. No niceties. No attempt at subtlety.
Alex’s lips quirk into an annoyed grimace. She looks up and over the top of her machine for a moment, staring at Nikolai (likely trying to find any scrap of his infinite patience for herself), then lowers her gaze once more and says, “Usually, it’s not answering vague, pointless questions asked by nosey individuals.”
“You’ve got half my team twisted up just by being here,” Tony continues, unruffled. “I’ve seen Romanoff stare down the Hulk on a rampage without flinching. What about you is so special that you make her nervous?”
“Interesting,” Alex comments, almost to herself. “And here I thought, after the Berlin incident, your ‘team’ was largely disbanded. Something about ‘not agreeing with your leadership.’”
Tony’s face twitches, mouth briefly stretching into a pained grimace before he smooths it back out. “You don’t exist.”
“Everyone’s concept of self is different,” Alex mutters as she rips out a crooked seam on an armor pouch.
“There’s no record of your birth. Or your parents, for that matter. Your marriage license has no given maiden name. No history of education, doctor’s visits, driver’s license –nothing until you turned twenty-four.” He takes a bite of his apple, swallows, then says, “People don’t just ‘poof’ into existence as full grown adults. It doesn’t happen.”
“Perhaps,” Alex retorts as she resews the faulty seam, “you are just not very good at finding things.”
“I can find anything.”
“Except, it would seem, a way to keep from trying my patience.”
Tony watches her for a moment longer –then, when she doesn’t say anything, he turns and starts striding out of the room. “I’m going to figure out what’s up with you. There aren’t any secrets that can hide from my A.I.”
Alex doesn’t dignify his departure with a response –but her eyelid twitches as she continues her sewing.
You look up at Piotr, only to find he’s watching Nikolai. You look over at the Rasputin patriarch, and your heart sinks when you see the worried expression on his face.
Nick sighs, then stands and rounds the table. He ambles up behind his wife, drapes his arms around her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head before he starts murmuring to her in quiet, loving Russian.
You lean against Piotr’s side, giving him a reassuring squeeze even though the only thing you feel is disquieted. You force yourself to take a deep breath and relax your jaw as fear starts crawling up your spine once more. One thing at a time. One thing at a time, that’s all you can do.
Except, it seems, when everything decides to happen at once.
***
Meeting the Norse god of thunder is… intense.
Though, that may have to do with the entourage of people he brings with him.
Around three in the morning, Dr. Strange shows up with the remaining allies –Thor, god of thunder, and his brother Loki, god of magic, Bruce Banner aka the Hulk, a woman by the name of Carol, and a group that calls themselves the “Guardians of the Galaxy” (which happens to include a talking raccoon and a sentient tree).
“Just when you thought, like, it couldn’t get weirder,” Kitty mutters to you as she stares at the newest arrivals.
You nod. Granted, your usual metric for all things weird is Wade, who has basically explored every avenue of zany, bizarre, and disturbing—
But yeah, this is pretty fucking weird.
“Where do we stand in preparations for the arrival of Thanos?” Thor asks Tony.
“We’ve got most of the busywork done,” Tony says, outlining the weapons upgrades and the armor work that’s been done. “We waited for major planning until we had everyone here and better intel.”
Thor nods, then gestures to two women standing with the “Guardians of the Galaxy,” one with green skin and dark hair and the other with blue skin and cybernetic enhancements. “This is Gamora and Nebula, daughters of Thanos. They’ll be able to provide information on the strength and size of his forces.”
“Good,” Steve pipes up from where he’s standing with Sam Wilson and Sergeant Barnes. “The sooner we have a plan, the better.”
“It can wait until we’ve slept,” Alex decides, voice crisp. “We won’t come up with anything good while we’re fried.”
Tony blinks, then scowls. “Thanos could be here as soon as this coming morning.”
“Then we’ll be doubly fucked if we’ve stayed up all night trying to scrape together a plan,” Alex replies, unmoved. She crosses her arms when Tony glares at her. “The younger and less experienced of us need rest if this is going to work.”
“I’m with the lady,” Quill pipes up, brushing past Tony. He gives Stark a smile that, if you had to wager, is supposed to be charming but just comes off as arrogant. “I think you’ll find that we… don’t really roll with plans. It’s not our style.”
Alex stares at Quill for a moment, expression vastly unimpressed. She sighs, blinks slowly, shakes her head, then turns on her heel and strides back to the room she’s been sharing with Nick. “Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”
As if waiting for a cue, everyone else disperses, muttering about being tired and “needing an IV drip of espresso.”
You shuffle off with Piotr, hand in hand, shivering slightly from nerves. Please just let this go well.
***
“Both the Chitauri and the Klyntaar forces number into the tens of thousands. The Chitauri have sentient airships capable of carrying infantry forces while wreaking their own havoc, in addition to chariots that can carry up to five marksmen at a time. He also has tanks the size of this building that can demolish anything in their path.”
Everyone is gathered in one of the main work rooms. A majority of the people present hang back at the fringes, content to watch while Tony, Captain Rogers, King T’Challa, Alexandra, your uncle, Thor, Quill, and Natasha hash out a strategy.
“He’s trying to overwhelm us with sheer numbers,” Steve says in response to Gamora’s information.
“It might work,” Natasha murmurs, gaze focused on the worktable in front of her. “We don’t have near enough firepower to chip away at that many grunts.”
“Not if we play our cards right,” Alex says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“There’s also our siblings,” Gamora adds with a pained grimace.
Off to the side, Nebula scoffs. “They’re hardly family.”
“Thanos collected beings throughout the galaxy to serve him,” Gamora explains. “To act as his eyes and ears and eliminate his foes. Aside from Nebula and I, he has four other ‘children.’ They’ll be acting as his generals and commanders in the fight –and helping him track down and capture the final infinity stones.”
Tension ripples through the room.
“What do we know about these Infinity Stones?” Alex asks after a moment of fraught silence.
“The stones were originally created by the Celestials,” Loki pipes up from where he’s leaning against a wall. “Their magical properties are tied to aspects of the universe –time, space, reality, and so on. Only beings of immense power can wield them without severe consequences.”
“Thanos has the gauntlet that accompanies the stones,” Thor adds. “With it, once he assembles all six stones, he’ll be able to use them simultaneously.”
“He wants to wipe out half of all life on Earth,” Gamora says, voice wavering slightly. “That’s been his single goal ever since I’ve known him.”
“All men want to be gods,” your uncle jokes half-heartedly.
“Can the stones be broken?” Alex asks.
Loki chuckles, incredulous. “These are magical tools created by the most powerful beings ever known to the galaxy… and you want to break them?”
She shrugs. “Best not to overlook the simplest solution.”
“I’m taking that as a ‘no,’” Steve interjects. “So, if we can’t destroy them, how do we fight them?”
“The only thing powerful enough to combat the effects of the Infinity Stones are the Infinity Stones,” Loki answers.
“And we only have two,” Natasha surmises, expression drawn and grim.
“Three.”
Everyone looks up and turns when Illyana speaks.
She smirks, tilting her chin up when Natasha meets her gaze. “We have three Infinity Stones.”
“Vision has the mind stone, and Dr. Strange has the time stone,” Kronos argues, shaking his head. “The soul stone is still missing.”
Illyana’s smirk broadens. She lifts her hand, curling it as if she was holding something.
A sword materializes in her hand –and in the center of the sword, small but unmistakable, is a glowing orange gem.
Your uncle’s eyes widen. “Holy shit.”
“Three,” Illyana repeats, looking supremely confident and self-satisfied. “Unless there is elusive seventh stone?”
Loki smiles ruefully, shaking his head. “The Goddess of Limbo pulls through. Well done.”
“Okay, but Vision’s stone is in his head and Strange has his stone in a necklace around his neck,” Tony interjects, gesturing to each person in turn.
“Amulet,” Dr. Strange mutters under his breath.
“Your stone disappears if you’re not holding it,” Tony continues, pointing to the sword as Illyana dematerializes it once more. “What’s stopping Thanos from finding it and taking it?”
“I am only person who can use Soul Sword,” Illyana says, arching her eyebrows. “It is bound to me until the next in my line is ready to take my place.”
“My family has been bound to Limbo’s magicks for generations,” Nikolai clarifies when Tony starts sputtering. “Illyana is the keeper of the sword, which means only she can call upon it. Thanos would need our blood to have access to it.”
Tony grimaces. “Still risky.”
“Better than nothing,” your uncle fires back.
“We have a shot of taking down Thanos with the other three Infinity Stones in our camp,” Steve says, planting his hands against the worktable's surface. “Without them, we’re as good as sunk.”
“Well then,” Alex says, smirking. “Let’s make sure we don’t waste our opportunity.”
***
“For the love of god, stop talking.”
“I’m just saying,” Quill starts, spreading his hands in a defensive gesture.
“You’re not saying shit!” Alex snaps, lifting her head from her hands to glare at him. “You’re just wasting our time!”
Once the planning started, a large portion of the crowd dispersed to help wrap up the last of the weapons modification. The leaders from each faction stayed behind –Tony, T’Challa, Steve, Natasha, Thor, Peter Quill, Xavier, your uncle, Alexandra, and Erik—to plan, along with Gamora, Nebula, and Loki so they could offer up information on Thanos, his forces, and the Infinity Stones.
You’d also hung back, since you didn’t have the skills necessary to do the weapons modification. If all I can do is sit around like a nervous lump, may as well do it where I won’t be in the way.
“This plan just isn’t our style,” Quill argues, either immune or completely ignorant to the exasperated sighs and death glares the others are giving him. “We like to take things looser, add a little pizazz.”
“How many times did your parents drop you as a baby?” your uncle asks, staring Quill down. “No, I’m serious,” he adds when Quill glares back at him and opens his mouth to argue. “I’m genuinely at a loss for how you can be this fucking dense.”
“We’re up against overwhelming numbers and powers no one here has ever seen, let alone fought against,” Natasha adds. “We need to allocate our resources carefully if we want even a chance at victory. The three wave strategy is our best chance.”
“Okay,” Quill says, pressing his hands together. “I think we just all need to relax—”
“You’ll be pretty fucking relaxed when I gut you,” Alex grumbles as she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Look, the way I see it, Thanos can’t take us all at once!” Quill reasons. “If we hit him with everything we have—”
“We have to survive his armies, too,” Tony adds, words clipped. “Or there won’t be any of us for Thanos to be hit by.”
“No.” Alex glares at Quill when he keeps trying to argue, startling him into silence. “Look at them.” She points at Gamora and Nebula. “These are your friends, da? Your teammates and companions, da? This is their abuser we’re facing. If we lose, what do you think happens to them? Do you think someone that wants to destroy half of all life will have mercy for them? Hm? If you care about them, you pick the plan that has the best shot of ensuring their safety. Got it?”
Quill swallows reflexively. He stares down at the holographic display of the future battlefield, jaw working. He exhales through his nose, slow and stuttered, then nods. “Alright. We… we do the three wave strategy.”
“So glad we can agree,” Alex says, turning her attention back to the battlefield schematic. “Now, we were discussing where to put our snipers…”
***
“—I need both their arms. Trust me, it’s the only way this is gonna work.”
“Look, I’m normally all for a little dismemberment, but I don’t think forming our own amputee league is gonna net us a win here.”
You shake your head as Wade banters back and forth with the talking racoon –whose name is Rocket, apparently—then look over at Nathan. “How long have they been at this?”
“Going on three hours now,” Nate replies. A soft, endeared smile flits across his face when he looks at Wade, but his expression sobers when he resumes his soldering job. “How’s the final plan looking?”
“Everyone but Quill was leaning towards a three-wave tactic.”
Nathan grunts. “Yeah, he seems like a jackass.”
“Alex threatened to gut him.”
“Hey!” Wade shouts, sounding genuinely wounded. “No disemboweling without me!”
“Quill wanted to do an ‘all for one’ attack directly on Thanos.” You sit down next to your dad, studying his face while he works. “You’ve actually fought against these people before. Do… do you think dividing our forces up will actually work?”
“The issue is the land and air forces,” Nathan says, shaking his head. He attaches a power unit to the base of a rifle, then starts welding the compartment shut. “This time doesn’t have the necessary shielding to repel the Chitauri and Klyntaar forces for that long. We’ll have to fight the grunts; holding some of our people back to make sure we have someone to take on Thanos is our best bet.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll win, though,” you point out.
He offers you a melancholy half-smile. “That’s war, kid.”
Your heart sinks further. “Do we even have a chance?”
“Statistics says we do,” Nathan says he strips a piece of wire before threading it into the gun.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Nathan sighs. He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “I think we have the best shot possible with what we have right here, right now.”
You gulp, then nod. It’s still not technically an answer to your question –let alone a positive one—but…
You’ve learned that, sometimes, it better not to dig at these sorts of questions at all.
***
“We’re dividing our forces into thirds.”
You’re all crammed into the rec room post dinner. In the center of the room, by the counter, Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Alex are addressing the crowd in turns.
“The first wave will consist of high stamina fighters and snipers,” Steve says. “There’s a shield system that extends several hundred kilometers around the lab’s perimeter. Wakandan soldiers will join the line of snipers who will pick off any of Thanos’s forces that make it through the shields.”
“We’ll also have any fighters with enhanced stamina on standby, in case there’s a larger breach,” Alex adds. “Their job will be to protect the sniper line from being overrun by the enemy forces.”
“The second wave will be air support,” Tony continues. “Myself, Rhodey, Wilson, and any flying mutants will head out when the Chitauri airships come in. Princess Shuri has a fleet of attack drones at the ready, which can be manned from headquarters in the lab. HQ will have a complete look at the battlefield; all intel will be coming from them during the fight.”
“Third wave is everyone else, save for Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision,” Natasha says. “We’ll join the fray when the second wave of Thanos’s forces arrive. The final three” –she nods to Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision in turn—“will wait in central headquarters until Thanos arrives, to prevent early capture of the remaining Infinity Stones.”
“In the meantime,” Tony says, “we’re going overtime on modifying rifles to be sonic weapons. They’re more effective against the Klyntar forces than regular firearms. All hands on deck. If you can’t solder, you can run supplies back and forth and help perform diagnostic tests at the firing range. Clear?”
Everyone nods, then breaks off to start working on constructing and testing more “awesome guns.”
You slid your fingers between Piotr’s. Your heart’s in your throat, racing a mile a minute. Your mouth feels dry.
If you were the religious type, you’d start praying. As it is, you make a plea with the universe on the off chance it decides to listen to you –for once.
Please. Please just let this work.
***
“So… about the three-wave plan—”
Tony slams down the compartment piece he’d been working on against the table. He glares at Quill, face strained with barely constrained rage and impatience. “What the fuck is your deal?”
“It’s just not sitting well with me,” Quill continues, leaning against the table. “I’m more of a ‘solo moment’ style person. More of a lone wolf.”
You gape at him. “You… you work with a team of five!”
“I just think that there needs to be a more focused confrontation with Thanos. Y’know, for someone to challenge him, man to man—”
“Some get this idiot out of my face,” Tony snaps, looking around for anyone that might be willing to assist –or, at the very least, drag Quill out of the room by his jacket collar.
“You’re not listening to me!”
“You’re wasting my time!”
“Why does every problem come back to you?” Alex stalks into the work room, eyes glowing a dull shade of copper as irritation takes hold in her. She strides over to Quill, looking like a menace in black leather and Kevlar. “How much more of a nuisance can you possibly make yourself?”
“I’m just pointing out some flaws in the strategy!” Quill argues, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m being the devil’s advocate!”
“You’re pointing out dick,” Agent Barton, alias Hawkeye, points out from the side (where he’s modifying some of his arrows to release sonic pulses).
“Look,” Quill presses on, ignoring Clint’s comment. “We need to make sure this thing is airtight—”
“We don’t have time for ‘airtight,’” Nathan growls, cybernetic eye flaring. “The goal is to survive, not to create perfection.”
“I really just think—”
Alex scowls –and then her hand snaps out and closes around Quill’s neck. She slams him against the edge of the table, sneering down at him while he coughs and claws –futilely—against her iron grip. “You’re past the point of being a nuisance. You’re a fucking liability.”
Quill wheezes, face slowly turning red.
“If I was paid every time a man like you told me how to do my job…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out a sardonic chuckle. “Let me make something clear to you, Peter Quill.” Her hand tightens around his neck, which makes some ominous creaking noises as she presses against layers of tissue, cartilage, and bone. “I am not about to have an asshole like you risk the lives of my children, the people who are putting their own lives on the line to protect the world, or the future of the damn universe. If you’re going to keep being a jackass about this…” She smirks. “I’ll kill you. I’ll do it right here, right now. I am not going to have a hazard like you on my team or on that battlefield.” She grins nastily, leaning in closer as Quill’s eyes bug out. “Best thing is, no one really knows you’re here. No tracks to cover, no family to pay off, no authorities to worry about. You’d be an unfortunate casualty in war. No one would fucking miss you.”
A chill runs down your spine. You gulp, stomach twisting as you look from Alex, to Quill, to Alex again. Is anyone going to stop her...
“I really don’t know how to make this any fucking clearer, but since you’ve proven to be thick-headed, I’ll summarize: you stray from the plan in any way, and you’re dead. Got it?”
Quill nods hastily. He gasps when Alex releases him, collapsing to the floor. He hacks and coughs, one hand rubbing at his throat while his skin slowly fades away from an angry magenta color.
“So glad we understand one another.” Alex smirks, then turns on her heel and strides out of the work room like nothing even happened.
You purse your lips, trembling while everyone goes back to work like nothing even happened. You try to focus on sorting pieces into containers for the fabricators to grab from, but with your shaking hands it’s near impossible. You duck your head, gritting your teeth together as your stomach churns angrily. I just want this all to be over.
***
The call comes in a couple hours later.
“We’ve got temporal disturbances outside the shield perimeter,” Kronos shouts while alarms blare overhead. “Thanos’s forces have arrived and are attempting to break through to our location.”
Your stomach drops as everyone starts scrambling. You grab your flight jacket and goggles, throwing them on haphazardly. You start running towards the hangar –then stop and switch directions. “Piotr!”
He pauses when he hears your voice, turning and catching you as you leap into his arms. He kisses you briefly –desperately—then pulls back and cups your face in his hands. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You give him a quick hug, then pull away and start sprinting towards the hanger where the rest of the air support is gathering. Tears sting your eyes, but you wipe them away and force down your fear and preemptive grief. Focus. You have to focus.
It’s time.
#sass writes#piotr rasputin x reader#nathan summers x wade wilson#alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin#kitty pryde x illyana rasputin#aka my 'fuck you' to the russo bros#get ready for some big canon divergence#i am literally just doing whatever the fuck i want#deadpool fanfiction#x men fanfiction
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Belonging
Here again for the @toa-secret-santa of this year! So happy to participate again, I love these events! 😍😍 Hello @spellcasterdouxie, I’m your secret santa! Merry Christmas and festivities, hope you like my present! ❤
Summary: In which being stuck in New York to protect a magical being and save the world in the process is no excuse for not celebrating Christmas with your friends.
Also on AO3
So… Nari was a terrible liar.
Extremely powerful being, the purest pretty soul, but horrible at lying.
Douxie didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was plotting, granted that she used to be part of an evil congregation of wizards that wanted to take over using an ancient artifact – meh, like that was the weirdest coming from his friends –, but he was fairly sure that her claim regarding the leaking sink of the bathroom was some sort of decoy.
Did that convince him to ignore those big adorable puppy eyes?
“It looks good to me, but I’m gonna give it a double check just in case!”
“Thank you Douxie, much appreciated! Please make sure everything is working, do not overlook a single thing!” Absolutely not. He was a master wizard, not a beast.
Their little apartment was neither pretty nor particularly clean. Which considering the little money he accumulated over the years with all of his jobs back in Arcadia and given the fact that they were in New York City, was kind of a given. But it had a perfectly functional bathroom, basically a gift from above, or some kind of karma retribution from putting up with three different apocalypses in the same summer – and he had all suspicions that another one was coming, but possibly another season. That being said, he wasn’t sure why with her plant like appearance, Nari with all people was so interested into their sink. Besides maybe for spraying a bit of water over her head – one very curious and endearing scene really, like a pot plant watering itself.
Then again, he wasn’t completely sure why he was going along with it instead of asking directly what was this all about. Maybe he liked to study whatever thought somehow as peculiar as her could come up with. Maybe there was nothing else of particular interest to do while waiting for his mac and cheese to be ready… maybe that little nightmare of his from last night got him a little too down, and doing anything but think about it was a better solution than most. And it was a pretty annoying maybe, because dreams about his master were as common as breathing lately.
He thought he was over it. It was probably too soon… hopefully he was at least getting closer to the not too soon part of it.
One long silence followed, from which he was fairly sure he had heard a few whispers a little lower than Nari’s light tone. Great, what now? Was she actually plotting something?
“Is everything okay over there? Arch? Nari?”
“Fine, everything is fine! Keep checking please!”
“Are you serious?” Okay now it was ridiculous. “Nope, I’m getting over there, and you two better not be up to no good!” They were a surprisingly compatible pair, especially since his familiar had made it his mission to teach her the marvel of pranks – she wasn’t even malicious about it, that made it all even more devious somehow. Douxie left the wrench on the ground, getting out of the bathroom and towards the living room. “You all keep forgetting that I’m the master wizards here, so technically I’m in charge, so if you’re scheming something- Whoa, Mordrax’s miracles!”
The last thing he had expected, after leaving their lonely living room that was made of four faded walls with a random kitchen connected to it, was to get back to it completely transformed into a messy, happy Christmas themed little chamber.
Filled with very familiar faces.
“Merry Christmas, Teach!” Claire almost knocked him off his feet with that hug. She looked radiant, all wrapped up in one big purple sweater with ‘Feeling Wicked Sassy’ written on it – appropriate. Behind her Steve, Toby and Archie were all smiling.
“Sorry, you would not leave the house,” Nari looked all cozy and a little guilty in that big mint green sweater – with ‘Every Day is Green Day’ written on it, where did she get that? –, waving at him. “And it felt like claiming we were being attacked by Skrael and Bellroc was a bit excessive.” Thank goodness his roommate and protegee had some common sense – considering his latest adventure, more than him for sure.
Claire giggled, shrugging innocently.
“We honestly hoped you were that bad of a plumber and would give us more time…”
Douxie snickered, because this was ridiculously endearing and he loved it all already.
“Too bad I’m not completely hopeless.”
“Could’ve fooled me!” Steve, it was Steve, not even worth turning around to recognize him. But a random fist bump, that much he could concede – especially with that massive blue sweater ‘Silent Knight, Holey Knight’ he had on, like really what was even that. “Ready to have the best time of your life?”
The master wizard arched an eyebrow.
“Said from you? Should we call the firefighter in advance? Or the police?” The blonde pouted very dramatically, Claire snickered. He had really missed these two. “Wow, this place looks amazing! The landlord can’t see this or she will force me to pay more for the rent.” His wallet was already gasping enough for breath and money. “All this stuff, all the decorations… is this beef?” Ah, that was why it all felt like such a sudden change, this paradisiac scent had definitely not been here before. “It smells delicious!”
“Thank you!” Second shock of the day, but Douxie could hardly blame himself considering the most time he had spent around Jim had been during his huge troll moments – he kinda looked like a twig now in comparison. “I’m pretty well known for my festive feasts.”
“Also known as festeasts!” Toby showed one enthusiastic victory sign, pulling off his orange ‘Rockin’ This Christmas’ with plenty of little gems and stones all around – the forever geologist.
Jim rolled his eyes with a grin.
“Tobes we’re not calling them that.” The Warhammer holder frowned, only to beam when he got handed a spoon for a taste. “I made most of this from home so it’s all ready and warm, but I wanted to make something on the place while I was at it. Freshly made food tastes way better on Christmas.” Toby hummed around the spoon, smacking his lips, then he rubbed his fingers together towards the chef, who caught it as to add more salt.
Douxie couldn’t help but scoot closer, peaking inside. That looked like food. That looked like real, delicious, extremely well-made food.
“What in the world, how did you make that?” Jim snorted.
“You moved on without much of a comment from me turning into a half-troll, a full troll and then back to a human, and this surprises you?”
“My friend, there were Thai leftovers, one instant ramen, an onion and an egg left in the fridge so yes, this surprises me!” All speculations died when he was offered a taste too. “… so it turns out I know nothing of magic. I must bow to the real master wizard here.” If happiness had a flavor it had to be this one. The former trollhunter snickered, giving him a little elbow before going back over his creations. And if the most classic ‘kiss the chef’ apron on him wasn’t already extremely fitting, the cyan sweater underneath reciting ‘I’m In The…’ on the back barely left to the imagination what list was written on the front.
A very well-deserved sign, really.
“Buttsnack’s managed to make these too, take a look!” Steve waved at the little counter that was the only thing remotely looking like a table in this place. And smelling just as heavenly as everything else, there they were, mince pies, just like the ones from Camelot. “But I don’t know if they’re as good because someone slaps my hand every time I- OUCH!! I didn’t even try this time!”
Archie’s tail could be surprisingly useful as a whip, in fact.
“You were thinking about it! So don’t, these are for later.” And wow, if his most loyal companion wasn’t absolutely adorable wearing that little red sweater – ‘Santa Paws’, he was going to complain about it all day long. Douxie wished he hadn’t left his phone in the bathroom. “We’re still waiting for the tree, the last decorations and the music. But we’re almost ready.” So apparently his familiar had been behind all of this. That actually made perfect sense.
Of course this little wizard associate had known this was going to do him good. It was the kind of bond that came with being around each other for over 900 years.
Archie smiled at him, and Douxie couldn’t not grin in return.
“Can’t wait for them! Even thought I did have some when we had that travel… well technically ages ago, we were actually in Camelot, but it wasn’t- Ah forget it, time loops are too confusing.” There was a consensual groan including all of them but Toby and Nari, who just looked at each other and shrugged. “Well, this is awesome, how did you even get everything here so fast?” On second thought, that was more than just bizarre. His eyes crossed Claire’s right away. “You get so tired with transportations through the Shadow Realm usually, and you got to bring along all of these people and decorations?” The thing was, this wasn’t supposed to be possible. Another thing was, Lady Claire of house Nunez was so insanely talented it would had not surprised him.
The girl waved her hand in denial.
“I wish I was at that level, but no. Still, we did travel back and forth pretty quickly.”
“Without magic? How?”
“I should take offense from that highly questioning tone.” Third shock, his poor heart – he came back from the grave once, and he really didn’t recommend it. He was fairly sure the apartment he had rented didn’t include interdimensional portals opening in the middle of the living room. “And from the fact that you humans keep forgetting I invented a perfectly functioning wormhole generator. But please, continue with your predicaments, ignore the scientific feat I’ve accomplished!” For an alien that barely understood human sarcasm, Krel Tarron was made a whole half of it.
As he walked in from the portal, holding one edge of a box filled with Christmas balls, on the other side Zoe stepped in carrying along the rest. And between a black ‘I’m Back, Witches’ sweater and a gray ‘DJ Kleb’ one with four sleeves, it was one curious and fantastic view.
“Yeah yeah, you bent the rules of physics, congratulations!” Zoe’s tense tone implied that she must had heard that complain already. “Stop talking and get working, I’m going the extra mile here!”
“This doesn’t sound like a good time to have a walk.”
“For the love of…!” The pink haired girl let out a muffled scream, let go of her edge of the box – lucky for Krel to have four arms to catch it – and jumped over the master wizard to grab his shoulders. “I hate you so much, you left me alone dealing with all of these new knuckleheads! Like the local dummies weren’t enough!” The collective offended ‘Hey!’ coming from both the Akiridion and the village’s idiot – a marvel that Steve actually responded, fully aware of his status as knucklehead – was somehow even more endearing than funny.
Meanwhile Zoe was still wrinkling his favorite jacket, frowning aggressively at him like the fact that he was out there saving the world was unforgivable – you could say anything about this pink head, but not that she didn’t have priorities.
Douxie snickered, easing the hold onto him.
“Sorry for trying to give my friends a place to live in this crazy wild world, then!”
“… apologies accepted.” Zoe narrowed her eyes. “But only if we finally hunt for niffins and get those forsaken burgers after you did the deed. I’m calling dibs on you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, you owe me. I didn’t snitch and told that Hex Tech got annihilated and we’re in need of new personnel because someone needed to hide from the big bad villains.” Those blue gems were screaming not to mess this offer up, because it was certainly not going to come back.
Even with a pressure like that, in some way inside of him, Douxie felt freed of a little weight. Despite the distance and everything that had happened, some things stayed the same. So he quite happily held up his fist, smirking at the girl.
“Alright, as soon as this is over with. Deal.” Zoe glared at him a few more seconds. Then she nodded, and finally bumped their knuckles together.
With a thud Krel finally put the box down, sighing soundly.
“Thanks Seklos this is done. I believe we are only missing the dead tree that will be then covered in artificial garnishments as a form of apparent belittlement of nature.” He stayed still for a few seconds, mindlessly throwing a little sphere on the ground that divided in four pieces, generating a portal. “… I feel like I’m getting so accustomed with humans’ savageness that I’m even quite looking forwards to it. Especially for that useless invention called ‘tree’.” He snickered, getting inside the wormhole that disappeared as soon as he was in.
Luckily the impossible dimensional gateway appeared of not leaving any trace behind. And luckily the creature – or elf, demigod, Nari was still a bit of a mystery – most connected to the nature that had just been denigrated was way more interested in whatever chef wiz Jim Lake Jr. was preparing.
“You knubhead, I just told you not to!” Archie’s spiteful voice came along, as apparently Steve had managed to take advantage of the situation – a scientific miracle happening in front of them, fair enough – to finally get himself a mince piece. Only to get slapped to the ground. “That’s it, until these cool down you’re getting nowhere near! Douxie, out with me, we need to guard the treasure!” That was some attachment for one tray of soft and delicious little pastries.
Douxie shrugged and complied, picking up the meal under the jock’s renovated pout and heading to the balcony. The chilling air got to his nose right away, but he endured, appreciating just the tiniest breath. There was barely space for once person there.
Well, one person and his familiar. He placed the tray on the railing, making sure it didn’t fall.
“How did Jim even get the recipe?” Archie grinned.
“Well, apparently his troll friends did remember a certain meal very appreciated by humans from back then, but they have their own idea on how to make it. I don’t know the details, but I certainly know it involves socks. Plenty of socks.”
“… you want to see Steve’s reaction to them later.”
“I want to see Steve’s reaction to them later with all the others. Christmas is supposed to be a family festivity, right?” His grin disappeared right after. “So… it didn’t sound like you were sleeping too well last night.” Yep. He knew. Of course he knew. He would had even if he didn’t have to habit of sneaking into his bed to get warm. “Something you’d like to talk about?”
Douxie breathed out, gently buffing his fluffy ear.
“I’m fine Arch, not need to get all sensible on me. It was one of the usuals.” He tried a weak smile, not really feeling like keeping everything in. Not with so many people inside, on this particular day. “… you know, thinking it now, somehow it was easier celebrating Christmas on the streets back in Camelot. Getting something good to eat, have fun, that was enough. Considering how tense was everyone in the Pendragon castle it’s not much of a surprise, but still… I wonder if Merlin ever had a proper Christmas in there.” He sighed. “He certainly didn’t while I was around.” The noisy streets of Camelot overlapped NYC’s busy ones. He swallowed a lump into his throat.
That legendary town was such a faraway place right now, coming back from a single memory was a slap from reality. Douxie shivered, taking in a freezing breath, gasping when Archie jumped over his shoulder and curled all around his neck. His fur was nice and warm.
“We have no way of knowing. But one thing’s for sure, that old man got a surprising, unexpected present in any case.” Archie smiled, eyeing him softly. “One very sneaky, very foolish, very brave apprentice.” They had been there, the both of them. And in any possible way, in the good, the bad, and the best, he had found a life to call that way. The one Merlin had asked him about.
The master wizard smiled, snuggling his cheek against his loyal friend.
It didn’t take long, the winter air acted like a freezer over the little pies. But as they went back in, the place had already changed – and that was besides AAARRRGGHH!!, with one gigantic hat on his head, holding up the tree while Blinky, wearing a scarf, was reading a manual on how to decorate it, where did he even get that? –: there was a table, appeared again out of nowhere, with all the most delicious looking dishes placed all over between branches of holly and little bells. Jim and Nari were putting down the last dishes, Steve was clumsily getting the statue of a reindeer to balance over the tv, Toby was checking the lights to make sure they were functioning.
And Claire was suddenly in front of him, beaming, clearly hiding something from behind her back. It immediately grabbed everybody’s attention, like it was some sort of event.
Was it?
“We’ve organized the present exchange for after lunch, but this one you need to put it on now. So, her it is!” She uncovered the secret and- Oh. It was a sweater. It was a sweater. For him. “There you go, you’re officially part of the wool club, a Christmas-limited association only.”
“Founder of the association Nancy Domzalski, mostly because it was Nana who made them all!” Toby caressed the front of his sweater, smiling softly. “She’s that kind of grandma that thinks that everything that’s made with love can bring warmth, and I’m kind of a believer too.” He shrugged, crossing his fingers behind the back of his head. “I know this isn’t your cool punk rock wizardy style, but Nana had her midlife crisis in her own time and I’m not exactly looking forward to one before my very own eyes!” That was probably not a sight a grandchild wanted of their grandma, that was understandable.
It was. It was, right? It was getting a little hard to focus on something, anything that wasn’t a soft bundle of black and navy blue stripes, welcoming and warm, with ‘Fuzzbuckets’ written on it. It was getting weird. A little unsettling even, because he just got out in the cold but his bones weren’t freezing anymore and he felt all fuzzy inside and now his eyes were warm and-
“… oh, curse me, not the waterfalls…!” Centuries spent transitioning from hopeless bard to punk rock guitarist, only to tear up at a random surprise Christmas party.
From there, he didn’t understand much. Only Claire’s probable ‘Aww Douxie!’, Toby’s sudden ‘There’s no Christmas without the sad moment’, Steve’s surprising ‘I know what to do, come on everybody, let’s all hug it out!’. And all of the sudden he was enveloped with so many arms, so many different people he had gotten to know and had managed to befriend and appreciate. That were part of his world, his life, and what was coming for the future.
So when he managed to open his eyes, there was so much to uncover, between a pink head, a scarred eyebrow, a lock of leaves and a paw still so close to his cheek. And it hit him that perhaps there was a reason why Camelot had always felt so far away lately.
That age was over. But this, it felt like it had only begun. Douxie smiled, closing his eyes again.
Embracing how good it felt to belong again.
#toasecretsanta2020#toa#tales of arcadia#toa wizards#toa trollhunters#toa 3below#wizards#Trollhunters#3below#douxie#hisirdoux casperan#nari#claire nunez#steve palchuk#toby domzalski#jim lake jr#zoe#toa zoe#krel tarron#archie#toa archie#christmas fic#secret santa#toa fic
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i can't wait to meet belle for real!! what's her quirk and like, what's the extent of it?? i know you posted that graphic and it said 'emotional manipulation' but what all does that entail??
Ah well hopefully I’ll be able to polish something up that I’m willing to post in full eventually! But for now, I’m keeping them to myself haha, and just posting snippets! There is a lot of editing and reworking as I figure out their ‘canon’ plot and how much of the canon storyline I want to include.
Also, it’s important to note - Belle is actually a doctor! Her parents are traveling doctors who plant hospitals internationally, and she follows in their footsteps, especially after her quirk manifests! One of my favorite scenes that is in her timeline is where people think she has “magical hugs”, but really it’s just her quirk manifesting and she’s inadvertently using it on others!
But! So far as Belle’s quirk - yes, it’s called “Emotional Manipulation” but it goes a lot deeper than that. It’s emotional manipulation with the intent to heal. By touching the person, and them being both willing and/or simple minded, she can manipulate their emotions. This can be used to simply alter the mindstate of someone - such as making someone happy when they feel sad - or it can go so far as to repair the emotional state of someone to accelerate their healing process, or at the very least (in horrible situations in which the body cannot recover), tricking the body into thinking that it has been healed.
I can give a couple of examples!
1. Altering state of mind. Belle is actually used as a “healer” of sorts for the mind, because she can essentially prevent PTSD by altering people’s emotional states around specific memories or situations, as well as swapping out their negative emotions for positive ones. She can seduce someone by tricking their mind into thinking that they’re attracted to her (although, who wouldn’t, she’s a total babe), or she can alleviate the negative memories that a hero has associated with a certain situation like a large battle where they’ve lost friends. She can manipulate their mindset to alleviate the negative emotions and swap them for positive ones, trying to curb the crippling depression they might have suffered from otherwise. In one timeline I am throwing around, Belle actually offers to relieve Bakugou of the pain surrounded by the fall of All Might, the guilt and shame that he felt for being weak and needing to be saved.
2. Alleviating bodily stress so the cells can heal faster. Belle can remove the emotional/mental pain surrounding an injury so the body can heal faster, since it isn’t focused on trying to repair the mindset of the person who is injured. This one is a little plot holey, but I don’t care!
3. Tricking the body into thinking it has been healed. She can manipulate the emotions so deeply that she can make the body of the hurt person believe that they’ve been healed and do not feel pain, so they can live out their last moments in peace. There is one specific scene where Belle knows that someone will not survive much longer, their body is failing beyond healing, but they want a few last moments with their family and friends. So she manipulates their emotions so they believe they’ve been healed/are okay, just to give them a good final memory with their loved ones.
In order to use her quirk, Belle has to either have a willing participant - i.e. heroes who come to her to be healed - or someone who is weak-minded. Think of it similarly to Jedi mind-tricks!
The draw back of Belle’s quirk is pretty layered as well. In order to manipulate a person’s emotions in the most basic sense, she must do two things - 1. She has to project her own feelings onto the person she is treating. For instance, if she were to want to make Bakugou happy, she would have to feel happy herself. 2. She has to absorb the emotions that the other person was feeling before. There is a very beginning scene where she is healing Deku, and she has to absorb his negative emotions from the battle and dealing with Bakugou, so she is irritable and short-tempered for some time after healing him initially. 3. If the emotional turmoil that she is absorbing is too negative in nature, or she over-uses her quirk, she can actually sustain physical injury. Essentially her body breaks itself in order to tell her to stop. There are a few instances where she obtains scars, bruises, and even broken bones from over-using her quirk.
Wow, that was longer than intended. But thank you for the question!! I hope you guys like her when she’s finally debuted!
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In the Shadows : two
Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>
Rating: Mature // Explicit
Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC
Warnings: Shameless smut (now with plot?), Daddy kink, Dirty talk, Unprotected sex (wrap it if you tap it xoxo)
Word Count: 6.4k+
A/N: Wow, I can’t believe I was able to update this so soon. I thought for sure it wouldn’t be until next month (barely made it lol). I’m doing my best to get content out but this 5k minimum I’ve set for myself really kicks my ass sometimes. Anyway, enjoy!
Part Two: Warning Signs
“Daddy?”
Sweet Pea’s groggy eyes opened. He found that he was sweating under the heat of the many blankets he was nestled under. Sleep still claimed his limbs, making them feel as if his bones were made of lead.
“Daddy?”
The little girl’s voice was muffled, he managed to push the layers off of him to see the bright and beautiful face of his two year old. She grinned at him before giggling to herself, her hand coming over her mouth. “Why is he nakey, daddy?”
She pointed to the man lying on the ground a few yards away from him. The fire that once roared in the fireplace was nothing but glowing embers. The air was brisk from the morning cold and a shiver ran across his damp skin. The man had no doubt been the wolf from the night before. His dark locks were mussed and the gashes on his arm looked angry.
“Lily!” He called out somewhat angrily. Daisy giggled again before climbing onto the couch to cuddle with her father. He put an arm around her to support her as she sat on his stomach. She laid down with a heavy thud, causing the breath to leave out of his chest for a second. Her small nose nuzzled into his sternum, still laughing softly.
A moment later Lily appeared rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. It was way too early to be awake, she thought bitterly. It was too cold to be out of bed. Usually Sweet Pea tended to the fire but he had been too far gone to do it. She shuddered and pulled the fluffy wool robe around her even more tightly than before.
Her eyes fell onto Jughead then, her cheeks flaring red as he stirred. He lifted his head and blinked blearily at her. His bright blue eyes shining like a Caribbean ocean in the sunlight. Lily tried desperately to control her line of sight, but the gods compelled her to look over him completely.
“Mommy! Puppy!” Daisy said, pointing at a confused and weary Jones heir. A smile formed on his dry, cracked lips. She was an adorable spitting image of her father. The only difference was her emerald green eyes that she inherited from her mother. Even at this age she could tell what he was. Amazing, Jughead wondered to himself. What else could the little witch do?
“Thank you for letting me crash here.” Jughead said as he forced his half-asleep body to move. He sat up, not even bothering to cover himself. Daisy fell into Sweet Pea with another rush of giggles. Lily’s cheeks were pink as Sweet Pea threw a blanket at him.
“Make yourself decent, my daughter doesn’t need to see that.” He hissed at the wolf, who sat unashamed with an old blanket on his lap. Lily was eyeing the happy trail that crept up to this belly button as it peaked up from the hem of the blanket.
Jughead cleared his throat awkwardly and she tore her eyes away from him. She looked out the window in an attempt to rid her mind of thoughts that already began to plague them. Gods, it had been way too long since she had gotten laid. “You saved my life, it’s the least I could do.” She finally murmured.
He stood up, making sure to keep his more intimate parts covered by the blanket. He wrapped it around his thin waist like a towel after a hot shower. Speaking of showers…Jughead looked down the hall, “if it’s not too much to ask, do you mind if I wash up before I go?”
“Oh! I’ll get you some clothes!” Lily said, her eyes connected with his excitedly. “You can’t walk home naked. You’ll get sick.” The fall was coming in strong, a cold front had hit over the past week and the snow was imminent.
Jughead didn’t want to take any more from her but also conceded that he couldn’t simply walk through Fox Forest in his birthday suit. He supposed something was better than nothing.
His stomach growled painfully causing him to look down in embarrassment. The day after the moon always had him so starving. Even if he ate during the night, his metabolism was so high from the shift that even a feast before wouldn’t keep him satiated.
Clothes he would take, but he was definitely not about to ask for a meal as well.
Sweet Pea stared at him, holding his daughter that was now choked with happy tears from laughing so much. His eyes were narrow slits of distrust. A scowl had formed on his lips. He didn’t want Jughead here in the first place, now he’s taking a shower in his bathroom? How exactly had he saved Lily’s life anyway?
Lily popped back in with a pair of beat up sweatpants and an old flannel that barely fit Sweet Pea anymore. “Here, you can put these on when you’re done. Towels are already in the bathroom. First door on your right. The hot water is a little tricky so be careful and don’t burn yourself.”
“Thanks,” Jughead said with a brilliant and grateful smile. He took the clothes and made his way to the bathroom. Once inside he shut the door and let the blanket fall. A shaky breath escaped his lips as he moved to the bathtub to fiddle with the knobs. Something was heavy on his mind, something…something…
“What do you want for breakfast, Daze?” Lily asked as she moved to the kitchen. Daisy slipped down off her father and tottered into the kitchen to observe. Lily flashed her a smile, “Pancakes and sausage okay?”
The little girl grinned again before nodding her head so hard that her thick hair fell into her eyes. She’d need a haircut soon probably, or at least more hair clips to keep it back. Lily began to grab a few ingredients she’d need for breakfast as Sweet Pea walked in.
“What exactly happened last night?” He probed, wanting to get to the bottom of this. Just how much debt do they owe the Jones kid now? Hopefully not too much.
Lily started to make the batter for the pancakes as she recalled to him about the attack last night. How if it weren’t for Jughead then she would surely be dead. The vargulf had claimed so many lives already. There was no reason to spare a witch such as herself. Mad wolves didn’t know how to discern friend from foe anyway.
Sweet Pea was silent. So, Lily hadn’t been exaggerating. This was just what they needed, some mangy mutt poking his nose into their cozy lives. He secretly hoped the water scorched his flesh off.
(In the shower, suddenly the water ran boiling hot causing Jughead to yelp in surprise. He quickly jumped out of the stream and messed with the knobs again to get it back to a manageable temperature.)
“I owe him my life.” Lily said as she began cooking the batter. “The look in that wolf’s eyes was…so inhuman, so intense. I couldn’t even move. I couldn’t think of a single spell to protect myself with. So if he needs a place to rest or old clothes to wear, then he’s more than welcome to it. Who would be around to take care of you if I was gone?”
Sweet Pea huffed indignantly. “I’m an adult, Lily. I can take care of myself.”
She rolled her eyes, “like last night? You call crying on the couch for me to help you taking care of yourself?”
He turned away from her angrily, knowing she was right but not being able to admit it. Silence fell upon them as Daisy began to play with the alphabet refrigerator magnets.
A sly grin ran across Lily’s face, pulling the corners of her mouth up high on her face. “He’s bigger than you.” She mentioned, knowing Daisy wasn’t paying them any attention. “By at least an inch.”
Sweet Pea turned red with anger, “you know I’m a grower not a shower!” He snapped at her, “why were you even looking at that?!”
“I couldn’t help it, it was just so big.” Lily added, wanting to get under his skin even more. She was quite successful as Sweet Pea found himself wanting to rip the wolf out of the shower (whose water suddenly ran boiling hot again causing Jug to cry once more like a wounded dog) and kick him out of his house.
He let out an angry puff of air, his chest poked out threateningly. “I’m going into town. I’ll be back later.”
“Sure,” Lily replied with a shrug, “pick up some milk while you’re there. We’re almost out.”
Sweet Pea shot her one more furious look before stalking into their bedroom (where he rarely actually slept but kept his things in nonetheless) and grabbed a fresh set of clothes to put on.
About ten minutes later, Sweet Pea was gone and Jughead was coming out of the bathroom in the holey rags Lily had given him. He walked into the kitchen, led by the wonderful smell of sausage, bacon, eggs, and pancakes. His mouth watered almost painfully, causing him to swallow the growing amount of spit. He was just so ravenous from last night, he needed something…however he couldn’t ask any more of Lily than he had already taken.
“Grab a plate, Jug,” Lily said happily as she cut up Daisy’s pancakes into tiny pieces for her. Daisy was thrown into yet another fit of giggles at the sight of Jughead, even though he was fully clothed now. He noticed tiny iridescent butterflies made of smoke appear around her, a side effect of not yet being able to control her magic. One fluttered over to Jughead and landed on his nose. Its wings flapped open and shut a few times before it disappeared into the air.
Jughead couldn’t protest, he was much too hungry to do that. He took one of the clean plates on the counter and filled it with a little bit of everything. He didn’t want to look like a pig but his body needed fuel to repair itself from the events of the night before. Lily knew this well enough and was simply trying to help him with a large meal. It didn’t hurt to splurge once in a while.
He sat down across from Daisy while Lily was at the head of the table between them. She ate a bite of pancake before speaking, “so that wolf last night…was it one of yours?” The sleeves of the flannel covered the wounds he had, but she had seen them plain as day this morning.
“No,” Jughead replied as he shook his head, “I’m not sure who he belongs to. He’s an alpha though. I could smell that under his decay. Something is not right, I don’t think he was born a wolf.”
Lily gave him a perplexed look, “why do you say that?” She thought that changing into a werewolf was another myth and that you had to be born into it. She had no idea that it was possible for a human to turn.
“Do you know what a vargulf is, Lily?” Jughead asked, wondering how much he needed to explain exactly. He had no idea how much she actually knew about werewolves.
She nodded her head slowly, “a rabid werewolf.” That was about the extent of her knowledge. She had read a bit about vargulfs but there wasn’t much information out there in writing about them. Wolves kept their secrets close to their hearts and not on the pages of any book.
“I didn’t either at first,” Jughead mused, “my mother told me about them when the killings started. When The Red Circle started hunting us. She wanted me to know, said I needed the knowledge if I was ever going to lead the pack. Do you know how a wolf becomes sick?”
Lily shook her head no. She didn’t know how a wolf became sick with illness, as werewolves had impeccable immune systems. They didn’t catch colds or the flu or strep throat. Their bodies healed too fast for that, though not fast enough for bad flesh wounds to not kill them.
“A werewolf becomes a vargulf from turning on the wrong moon.” Jughead said between bites of sausage. “I don’t know how one can change on the wrong moon, but it’s possible. My mother wouldn’t tell me how in fear that I’d do it and become one myself. Changing on the wrong moon, changing against nature, it drives you mad. You kill for sport and not for food. Werewolves eat their kill, you see, we don’t leave anything behind and we only kill to eat. Usually deer, rabbits, and things like that. Not humans. Even in our natural form we have enough sense not to go after humans.”
He was quiet for a moment as if digesting his words, “I do not think this man was born a wolf because of several factors. He’s big, bigger than any wolf I’ve ever seen. He has no pack. A pack would have put him down. A vargulf is bad business because things like The Red Circle arise from them.”
“I thought werewolves aren’t always in packs,” Lily interrupted, wanting clarification. Jughead smiled lightly at her.
“Omegas don’t have packs, that’s true. But they have a special scent. This vargulf smells like an alpha, which means he should have pack mates. But, he doesn’t, so it’s suspicious.” He drank a bit of juice before continuing, “Lastly, his scent changes. This man smells completely different as a human than he does as a wolf which is what makes him so hard to track down. That’s a trait only found in humans that have somehow become werewolves.”
“But how is that even possible?” Lily asked once he seemed to be finished explaining, “How can a human become a werewolf? I though the bite was a myth.”
Jughead’s smile faltered, “The only thing that can turn a human into a wolf is black magic. Very serious black magic that would probably be too great for a mortal to use. I’m guessing whatever killed all the plants in your garden is the same thing that turned this human into a vargulf.”
So, he had noticed all the dead and rotting herbs in her garden last night? He probably smelled the decay, she surmised to herself as she nodded to show her understanding. A wolf that was not a wolf. A wolf that turned on the wrong moon. A wolf that could be the death of them all.
+++
A beautiful, purple-haired woman dressed in a tight black crop top and leather miniskirt sat at the almost exclusively non-human (or magic using human) bar on the edge of the Southside. Most of the patrons were wolves, she could tell by the smell of wet dog that lingered on their leather jackets. It had been raining for the past three hours fairly steadily. An icy rain that dared not become snow rather shards of glass to slice through the frigid night air.
It was her favorite kind of weather. It was so easy to get a cold, sodden fellow into her bed and warm up and devour, leaving nothing but a soulless corpse as she bathed in the warmth of his blood. She planned on doing that tonight. The snack she had partaken in earlier was not nearly enough to satisfy the ache between her legs. Being a sex demon and being perpetually horny came hand in hand, not that many men could truly satisfy her. Not like a woman could. But, women she dined on rarely as they were harder to seduce unless they were naturally inclined to take female partners.
A prickling sensation ran up her spine as the heavy door opened and a tall man walked in. He shook the water out of his hair like an animal might, but he was no animal. He reeked of magic, black magic, and she knew for sure that her target had been found. She swallowed thickly, her mouth running dry as she coyly connected her light eyes with his dark ones. A small smirk crept upon her lips as she looked forward once more and picked up her glass with a dark brown liquid inside along with two crushed cherries floating at the bottom.
The warlock walked towards her and dared to sit down next to her. Couldn’t he tell what she was? She was hiding her energy the best she could, as much as she knew how, but this was what she struggled with the most. This is why she took human men as they had no way to tell what she was. This man though, the man that was to father her child, seemed to either not know or not care. And she imagined that either way it would work to her benefit.
“Don’t see many demons in here.” He commented with a light chuckle as the pink haired bartender brought him a beer without him even asking. He nodded a silent thanks towards her and she gave him a weary look. “Probably because the bartender is a demon slayer.”
Lavender’s smirk turned into a mischievous smile. “Demon slayers are no threat to me.” She said in a light but amused voice. “Unless I choose them to be.”
Sweet Pea, that had been the name Myra told her, took a large swallow of beer. He felt as if the stars had aligned for him perfectly that night (and perhaps the tarot spread he drew a few nights ago had been totally correct). Lily had spurned him this morning, hurting his manhood to the point that he knew he needed to bring someone home just to drive his point through to her. And what better than a demon that survived on sex? Succubae were supposedly hard to please but if he could please her, if he could make her truly climax, then maybe he would have proof enough that he was better than any mangy wolf.
The danger of it all caused a thrill to run down his chest, through his stomach, and into his groin. If he made her cum first then she wouldn’t be able to take his soul. At least, that was the rumor he had been told when he was a teenager. Now at twenty-two he was ready to test that theory.
It didn’t hurt that she had been more beautiful than he had imagined a succubus would be, though they could take any form they pleased in order to seduce their victims. The one she took made her look like a fallen angel that had spurned the gods and was cast to Earth as punishment. Long purple hair that was almost grey with how light it was, eyes bright like an unpolluted stream running through the woods in the spring. Full lips and a figure any girl would die for.. He found himself licking his lips.
“I suppose you don’t think witches are a threat to you either.” He asked, not in a threatening way but rather just making playful banter with her. “Unless you want them to be?”
She laughed as she turned her body towards him. He noticed her belly button piercing, silver with an amethyst jewel. He could also tell through the thin material of her top that her nipples were pierced as well. She crossed her legs, forcing her skirt to ride up another inch. One more and he was sure he’d be able to see her underwear under her fishnet stockings. “Are you going to hex me, mister witch?” She asked, eyes glittering with amusement.
Sweet Pea’s eyes ravaged her body now that he was a forward facing view. He swallowed thickly. “Not tonight, not unless you try to rip my heart out.”
Lav smiled a smile that wasn’t totally evil or sly or condescending. It was almost…genuine. Very strange for a demon, that he knew for sure. It almost made him feel uneasy. “I promise not to rip yours out if you promise not to rip mine.” She added and he knew that she was being sincere. It was eerie.
He broke eye contact first, unable to feel comfortable holding her gaze. He took a swig of beer, thinking it over. “I promise.” He finally added in a low voice, not knowing what kind of invisible contract he might be signing. Demons were tricky like that.
She turned back and downed the rest of what he assumed was an Old Fashioned. “Then let’s get out of here.” She wanted to get this over with. Myra had performed some kind of ritual earlier, made Lav drink some awful brew she had made. Supposedly it would increase her fertility. The next person she had sex with would impregnate her for sure. She only needed to do this once and then it would be over. She could have this baby and her freedom too.
“Hope you don’t mind the rain.” He mentioned as he chugged his beer. He set down the bottle and a few crumpled bills. “I rode my bike.”
“Oh, Sweet Pea, you’re going to get me cold and wet just so you can warm me up in your bed? How kind of you.” Lavender said with a joking laugh. Of course she didn’t mind a little freezing rain. It was nothing compared to hell, or so Myra had told her time and time again.
The warlock froze, he had not told her his name. He hadn’t planned on telling her either. How did she know? Then he shook his head, thinking it a demonic trick she probably had picked up. Demons were special in that they were magic using supernaturals. She probably knew a spell or two to find out something as trivial as his name.
“Something like that,” He finally replied as he watched her, eyes dark with the excitement of being in such a dangerous situation. “Let’s go.”
The drive to the cottage wasn’t particularly interesting. Lav used the close contact with Sweet Pea to decode his inner desires. He liked it rough, fast, relentless, and oh the things that came out of his mouth. For the first time in a long time she felt actual anticipation for a man. She couldn’t wait to get him into bed, flush him with desire so that he lived out his fantasies of what he wanted to do to her. And she’d let him do whatever he wanted because all of what she saw inside his head was so damn enticing.
Then, once he had spilled his seed inside of her, she’d bury her claws into his chest and rip out his heart because a promise with a demon was no real promise at all. She didn’t need a loose end. As far as she was concerned, Asmodeus could act as their child’s father. That was what he wanted anyway.
Sweet Pea parked his motorcycle and felt her warm body slide away from his as she got off. She smoothed out her skirt so that it once again provided adequate coverage. He looked at her, illuminated by the soft porch light. Did he really want to dance with the devil?
He could feel her reading him during the entire ride. He didn’t know what kind of information she was pulling but all he seemed to be able to think about was how much he just wanted to plow into her. A small breath of anticipation left him as he got off the bike as well.
They exchanged no words as nothing really needed to be said. It was obvious what was going down and stopping it now would have been near impossible. He unlocked the door and led her inside to find a very unhappy white witch waiting for him.
Her green eyes grew large and wide as she saw the demon in his tow. “Sweet Pea,” She hissed to him, “you brought a demon into our house? With our daughter here?!”
Sweet Pea gave her a bored look. Sure succubae sometimes fed on children but he was under the impression that his two year old was much too old for their tastes. Didn’t they dine on infants almost exclusively? He didn’t really know. What he did know was that if this demon proposed any kind of threat to his daughter than he’d end her on the spot.
“Relax,” Sweet Pea said in a cool voice that showed just how cool he was about the situation. It was just sex. What was the big deal? It’s not like they were still together and he was stepping out on her. Though he had done just that right after Daisy was born…
Lily scoffed at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed the succubus standing just behind her ex-lover, a curious look on her face. “What do you want with him?”
She shrugged, also nonchalant about the entire situation. “His soul.” She said, telling a half-truth. She didn’t just want that….she wanted much more.
“Sweet Pea!” Lily cried back in desperation, “you’re going to just let her?!”
“She takes my soul and my powers increase tenfold, right? What’s the problem?” He asked, having always craved power. More power than he could ever possibly handle. The soul binds a magic user’s abilities like training wheels. With it gone he’d be almost limitless in what he could do. Was it reckless? Sure, but it was also a great opportunity from his point of view.
He pushed past her, ignoring how agape her mouth was with shock. Was he seriously going to do this? What if this demon wanted more? What if she killed him like a praying mantis might a mate after sex? She was speechless as Sweet Pea took Lavender into what was once their shared bedroom. Lavender gave Lily a small wave, a proud smirk on her face. Her own magic was at work here and Lily knew it.
Once inside the room Sweet Pea saw the walls glow for a moment before dimming again. His head shot back to look at Lavender as if to ask what she had just done. “Sound proofing.” She said in an innocent voice, “don’t want to wake the baby.”
Sweet Pea shook his head as he shrugged his leather jacket off haphazardly. What was he doing exactly? Right, making a demon cum so hard she couldn’t take his soul. The plan seemed rocky at best. But the risk, oh the risk just seemed so deliciously sweet that he couldn’t stop himself.
Lavender stepped towards him slowly, pulling off her own top to expose her pert breasts. His eyes stared at them, mesmerized by the barbells impaled through each hard nipple. Would they be cold to the touch like regular metal? Or would they be warm from her body heat?
His calloused hand reach out, his large thumb brushing over the piercing with interest. Lav breath hitched in her throat at the sensation she felt both in her breast and in her core. Succubae were known to have sweet spots, almost like a secondary g-spot located onto their bodies. Her nipples had been one of these, sensitive and aching to be touched. God if he’d just put his mouth on them-
She moaned rather loudly as his lips clamped down on her breast, tongue working her nipple as if it were made of candy. He sucked lightly but steadily, making her head fall back as her hand came to rest on the back of his head.
Sweet Pea was smirking at her intense reaction. He suddenly felt so compelled to put her breast in his mouth that he hardly realized what he was doing before he did it. Would she hit her peak just from him doing this? Not likely but it was an amusing thought.
He was on his knees, one hand on her waist while the other played absentmindedly with her other breast. He could feel her melting into him, turning into a puddle of desire with an intense need for release. Somehow during all of this she managed to take her shoes off, suddenly making her five inches shorter.
A whine left her as he parted his lips from her skin, saliva connecting her nipple to his mouth. She looked down at him, her once blue-green eyes suddenly dark with desire. Her pupils were blown so wide that he could hardly see the color of her irises.
She brushed her hands through his thick hair, a small smile on her lips. “Why’d you stop, daddy?” She purred back at him, knowing the name would send a thrill straight through him. She had seen the kink inside of him and was extracting it now to turn him on even more than he already was.
Sweet Pea was up in one fluid motion, his strong hands on her waist, lifting her up and throwing her onto the bed. She let out a squeal of excitement as she landed on the plush mattress. His wet shirt was peeled off next and then in a flash he was on top of her, kissing her with a bruising force.
Their bare chests were pressed against one another and he could feel the now warm metal of her barbells against his cold skin. They fought for dominance with tongues and teeth and at one point Sweet Pea tasted blood in his mouth but was unsure of who it belonged to.
He pulled away to breathe heavily against the skin of her neck. He noticed something that looked like a brand there, an inverted pentacle against the pulse point of her throat. It was small, almost unnoticeable, and he had to remind himself that this was a spawn of Satan in his bed and not some ordinary girl.
He noticed then that she was staring up at him, eyes half-lidded, and she almost seemed like she was in a daze. Like she was caught under a spell of some sort. He sat up, feeling the slightest bit uneasy about doing this now. Her eyes suddenly focused, a frown on her swollen lips, “What’s wrong, witch?” She asked, her voice laced with lust, “you’re not backing down now, are you?”
She reached up and caressed his neck, sending her own magic through him so that he suddenly felt an intense urge to fuck her. He kissed her again with a new wave of force, pinning her wrists down in his massive hands. Slowly she began to grind her hips against him, feeling his hard length on her upper thigh through his pants. Her skirt had ridden up so that her underwear was almost visible through the holes in her fishnet tights.
He trailed biting kisses down her neck again, one landing on her pulse point. Pain ran threw her so violently that she almost tossed him off, but she restrained herself. “Not there,” She said in a strained voice, “anywhere but there.”
Sweet Pea muttered an apology before his fingers found the zipper of her skirt. He lifted off of her to pull it off along with her tights, leaving her in nothing but her black thong. He took a moment to admire the sight, her chest heaving from her deep breaths. His eyes flicked up to her face to see her smirking at him, “like what you see, daddy?” She asked as she sat up, trailing a finger down his chest and to his belt where she tugged playfully. “It’s all yours for tonight, if you think you can handle it.”
He shuddered from the sheer strength of the images of him pounding into her that ran through him. A moment later he was down to his boxers and nothing else, their hips together to bump, grind, and dry hump until she was wordlessly begging him to be inside of her. His mouth had found her nipple again, his teeth raking across the sensitive bud so that she cried out with need.
Sweet Pea sat back from her long enough to tear her thong off, ripping the elastic that held it together. His boxers were off next, his hand on his penis to pump it to full length. She watched with dazed anticipation.
“Fuck me, daddy, please I need your big dick inside of me now.” She whined as she spread her legs for him to settle between them. His eyes raked over her naked from as he committed the view to memory. Maybe this didn’t have to be a one time thing, he proposed to himself. Maybe this could be a permanent solution to his problem.
The problem of sleeping alone on an old couch every night with no one to hold or caress or satisfy him when he needed release in the middle of the night. Typically he let Lily have the bed and the two bedroom cottage did not have a spare room for him to take as his own. They didn’t have the means to get a bigger home as this one had been left to them from Lily’s father. She could have kicked him out, and why she didn’t he wasn’t sure, but she let him stay as long as he helped take care of their daughter.
Lav reached out in frustration, grabbing his large and firm biceps to send more urges through him. His thoughts vanished from his mind as he pinned her down by grabbing the backs of her knees and forcing them so that they were on either side of her head.
She grabbed the backs of her thighs to help hold her legs into place. He could see that she was practically dripping with anticipation, the moisture on her folds was reflecting in the yellow light of the lamp. “You want me to fuck you that bad, princess?” His voice was husky, low, and he smirked as she just nodded her head weakly.
He used one hand to guide himself into her, and when her labia spread he saw light glint off of metal. Curiously he spread them further to see what it was to find a vertical hood piercing through the hood of her clitoris. It was the same purple amethyst as her belly button piercing.
His thumb brushed against it, earning a shiver of delight from his conquest (or was he her conquest? He didn’t know). She flexed her Kegels to clamp down around him in an attempt to make him move. She couldn't really move herself due to the position he had her stuck in.
Sweet Pea smirked at her, putting his hand back on her leg to pin her down even further. He pushed all the way into her until his hilt was against her skin. A loud moan escaped her as he did, his depth more than what she had felt in years. To her, he felt like the perfect size. A pleasurable length and a wonderful width. They melted together like two pieces of a puzzle.
“You spread me out so good, daddy,” she cooed up at him, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. “You fill my pussy up, I-“ He silenced her by putting a hand on her throat. A wild grin spread across her face as he began to thrust madly into her while tightening his grip.
Lav began to see bright white and black stars. Her vision speckled as he rammed in relentlessly. When he released pressure on her throat, she could feel the rush of blood almost like a rush of ecstasy running through her. “Fuck,” they both moaned at about the same time.
Sweet Pea was determined to make her cum, so incredibly determined that he never lost sight of his end goal despite his lust clouded thoughts. One hand stayed on her throat as he towered over her, his hips never stopping their rhythmic bucking. Under his breath he said things that he would have never dared to say to Lily. (You like that, you dirty little slut? You’re moaning so loudly for my cock. Bet you couldn’t scream if it was down your throat instead.) He could feel his tip press against her cervix on multiple occasions, causing her to mewl in delight whenever he did.
His other hand left her leg, she held both back herself now to stay in place despite his rough plowing. It moved to her clit to rub the engorged cluster of nerves. She seized when he did this, convulsed at the pleasure so much that his hold on her actually did choke her.
Lav felt the edge coming and it was such a foreign feeling that at first she thought something was wrong. How long had it been since a man brought her to her peak? Five, ten years? Yes, a decade, and that one had ended in a shower of blood because at that moment too she was so shocked that she couldn’t stop herself from slipping into her demonic form.
Could she stop herself now? Hopefully he’d live long enough to impregnate her, otherwise she would be royally screwed. She bit down on her lip, feeling her incisors threatening to elongate into fangs. Her nails pressed into her own thighs suddenly felt extremely sharp. She closed her eyes tightly to hide the slow spreading blackness of her pupil across her iris and sclera.
One, two, five more thrusts and the quick workings of her clit made her orgasm with incredible intensity. Her eyelids shot open as she gasped out a cry of immense pleasure. Sweet Pea could see that her eyes were totally black with the exception of a small yellow spot, light reflecting off her dark eyes to give them depth.
She couldn’t even form a comprehensive sentence, only a string of curses came out of her (mostly in a language he did not understand). Her walls seemed to tighten around him so much that his own pleasure was multiplied exponentially. The new tightness of her core caused his own orgasm to come and he spilled his semen deep inside of her.
It was a miracle that Sweet Pea had enough sense to notice her sudden change. She reached for him one clawed hand in an attempt to rip at his chest. He quickly put a hand to that marked pulse point and pressed it hard enough to make her scream out in pain.
“Praeligāre,” He hissed in a deep voice and suddenly she reverted back to her human identity. Eyes regained their color, nails and teeth were the appropriate length, and as she breathed heavily underneath him she felt her mind pull itself back into a deep, deep sleep.
What he hadn’t felt though, hadn’t even noticed was that while he was twitching inside of her still, his soul left his body and was successfully claimed by the prince of hell.
((graphics by @the-gargoyle-queen))
Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen, @southside-vixen, @redhairdontcare732, @wayward-river (comment to be added)
#sweet pea#sweet pea imagine#sweet pea smut#jughead jones#southsidearchive#sweet pea x oc#jughead jones x oc#sweet pea imagines#sweet pea fanfic#sweet pea fanfiction#jughead jones imagine#jughead jones imagines#jughead jones fanfic#jughead jones fanfiction#riverdale imagine#riverdale#riverdale imagines#riverdale fanfic#riverdale fanfiction#riverdale smut#riverdale au#supernatural au#in the shadows#lavender rhodes#lily owens#myra vaughn
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Watchmen? Schitts Creek? The Last Dance? Unbelievable? Which TV shows Should Get My Vote at the TV Critics Association Awards?
One of the biggest Hollywood institutions affected by the coronavirus lockdowns has been the awards season. Big shows like The Golden Globes and the Oscars have been delayed; the Emmys are still planned for late September, but there’s no information on whether it will be virtual or in person.
So, the annual awards handed out by the TV Critics Association, typically handed out during our Summer Press Tour, have also been affected. The in-person event -- which is not filmed or broadcast anywhere, allowing stars to hang out with a little more freedom -- has been canceled. But we’ll announce winners later this summer, so the bragging rights among TV creators and performers will remain.
Over 200 TV critics and journalists vote on these awards. And the results may turn out differently, because we’re not seeing each other at press conferences or events and comparing notes. That makes this year feel a little less predictable.
So, as I often do, I’m posting the nominees here so you can give me a little feedback on how I should vote. I’ve got a week to make my choices, so give me your best arguments for whether Schitt’s Creek tops Dead to Me, or Mark Ruffalo is a bigger GOAT than Cate Blanchett.
Here’s the nominees:
INDIVIDUAL ACHIEVEMENT IN DRAMA
Cate Blanchett, “Mrs. America” – FX on Hulu Kaitlyn Dever, “Unbelievable” – Netflix Regina King, “Watchmen” – HBO Mark Ruffalo, “I Know This Much Is True” – HBO Rhea Seehorn, “Better Call Saul” – AMC Jeremy Strong, “Succession” – HBO Merrit Wever, “Unbelievable” – Netflix
INDIVIDUAL ACHIEVEMENT IN COMEDY Pamela Adlon, "Better Things" – FX Christina Applegate, "Dead to Me" – Netflix Elle Fanning, "The Great" – Hulu Catherine O'Hara, "Schitt's Creek" – Pop TV Issa Rae, “Insecure” – HBO Ramy Youssef, "Ramy" – Hulu
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN NEWS AND INFORMATION "60 Minutes" – CBS (2012 Winner in Category) “Frontline” – PBS (Eight-time Winner in Category) "Hillary" – Hulu "The Last Dance" – ESPN “McMillions” – HBO "The Rachel Maddow Show" – MSNBC
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN REALITY "Cheer" – Netflix “Encore!” – Disney+ “Holey Moley” – ABC "Making It" – NBC "Top Chef All-Stars L.A." – Bravo "We’re Here!" – HBO
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN YOUTH PROGRAMMING "Carmen Sandiego" – Netflix "Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood" – PBS Kids (2016 Winner in Category) "Molly of Denali" – PBS Kids "Odd Squad" – PBS Kids “Wild Kratts” – PBS Kids "Xavier Riddle and the Secret Museum" – PBS Kids
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN SKETCH/VARIETY SHOWS “A Black Lady Sketch Show” – HBO "The Daily Show with Trevor Noah" – Comedy Central "Full Frontal with Samantha Bee" –TBS "Last Week Tonight with John Oliver" – HBO (2019 and 2018 Winner in Category) "Late Night with Seth Meyers" – NBC "Saturday Night Live" – NBC
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN MOVIE OR MINISERIES “Little Fires Everywhere” – Hulu "Mrs. America" – FX on Hulu "Normal People" – Hulu "The Plot Against America" – HBO "Unbelievable" – Netflix "Watchmen" – HBO
OUTSTANDING NEW PROGRAM "The Great" – Hulu "The Mandalorian" – Disney+ "The Morning Show" – AppleTV+ "Never Have I Ever" – Netflix "Watchmen" – HBO "Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist" – NBC
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN DRAMA "Better Call Saul" – AMC (2019 Winner in Category) “The Crown” – Netflix “Euphoria” – HBO "The Good Fight" - CBS All Access "Pose" – FX "Succession" – HBO
OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN COMEDY "Better Things" – FX "Dead to Me" – Netflix "The Good Place" - NBC (2018 Winner in Category) "Insecure" – HBO "Schitt's Creek" – Pop TV "What We Do in the Shadows" – FX
PROGRAM OF THE YEAR "Better Call Saul" – AMC “Mrs. America” – FX on Hulu “Schitt’s Creek” – Pop TV “Succession” – HBO “Unbelievable” – Netflix “Watchmen” – HBO
NETWORK TALLY HBO – 16 Netflix –10 FX/FX on Hulu – 7 Hulu – 6 PBS/PBS Kids – 6 NBC – 5 AMC – 3 Pop TV – 3 CBS/CBS All Access – 2 Disney+ – 2 ABC – 1 AppleTV+ – 1 Bravo TV – 1 Comedy Central – 1 ESPN – 1 MSNBC – 1 TBS – 1
PROGRAMS WITH MULTIPLE NOMINATIONS “Watchmen,” HBO – 4 “Unbelievable,” Netflix – 4 “Better Call Saul,” AMC – 3 “Mrs. America,” FX on Hulu – 3 “Schitt’s Creek”, Pop TV – 3 “Succession,” HBO – 3 “Better Things,” FX – 2 “Dead to Me,” Netflix – 2 “The Great,” Hulu – 2 “Insecure,” HBO – 2
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LIHN thing! fr if i could add one thing to the musical, i would LOVE to see the scene with Harriet and Doc Shock turn into a duet. Just to give them that tiny bit of personality and also give us another banger
Oh ho ho ho oh ho ho ho ho.
So!
You hit the (Sheila) nail on the head with this because holey moley, in subsequent versions of the show that may or may not have things added, more Harriet content/perhaps a little more moving around of the bits we get about her placement-wise would be at the absolute top of the list.
However, when you said Harriet-Doc Shock duet, a lightbulb immediately went off over my head because of the long-in-development Emilie Autumn musical, including both her preexisting songs and new ones, The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls, based on her book of the same name. As a 2000s would-be emo kid long-time Emilie Autumn fan, I’ve known about it for a while as a project and while it borrows from a semi-autobiographical story, it’s thematically similar in a lot of ways to Love in Hate Nation in that it’s (partially) a historical piece about a young, musically talented and frequently abused woman incarcerated in a decrepit, torturous for a botched suicide attempt who leads a feminist uprising against a female warden with internalized misogyny and, it’s hinted in at least in the concept album/work for the stage adaptation (which seems to differ from the book), falls in love with a black-haired, more world-weary inmate, realizing she’s wlw while imprisoned and having one more person to fight for.
Sounds familiar, right?
There’s more twists and turns to it than that that (in that the historical Victorian plot is basically a coping mechanism fantasy for the autobiographical parts about Emilie Autumn’s modern-day experiences with trauma and mental healthcare) set it quite firmly apart from LIHN, but basically, to bring it back to your ”Harriet-Doc Shock scene duet”, there’s a song called Nothing on the concept album that’s a duet between a sadistic and creepy misogynistic ‘Doctor’ who tortures the inmates, and the (Victorian-part) main character as she struggles to survive him. It’s more classic-musical/19th century style than the dark 60s sounds we’d get out of a scene in LIHN, but it’s quite fitting.
Massive trigger warnings for torture, mentions of blood/death, misogynistic language, general horror/dark stuff (basically think if Tim Burton did LIHN instead of Joe Icons), but here’s the song on the concept album (both parts performed by Autumn, the album’s a bit like the original Anais Mitchell concept for Hadestown in that it’s mostly one person doing all the roles the demos). There’s a stage performance with two actors on YT, but as a live performance people are sort of screaming over all the words.
Fits the scene a bit!
Also, as a palate cleanser from that terror, I’ll post the love song between the female leads of Wayward Girls below for some lateral Sheilannah feels:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8xEVS2AllU
#love in hate nation#lihn#tw: death#tw death#death tw#tw: blood#blood tw#tw blood#tw: torture#torture tw#tw torture
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21 questions
I'm late I'm so sorry vslndjwndks.
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Nickname: Katie. Sometimes Kates?
Zodiac: I'm not sure if you mean starsign or the chinese year thing, so I'm doing both. I'm a libra, born in the year of the dragon lmao
Height: 4'11 and 3/4 shut up i'm tiny
Last movie I saw: Bleach, the Diamond Dust Rebellion lol. My dad just downloaded it and I had nothing to do so.
Last thing I googled: Uh. A recipe for afritada bc my dad wanted that for dinner.
Favorite musician: ooohhh that's so hard I listen to a lottttt of artists. I think rn the answer is Jojo, because I've loved her music since I was little! Too little too late was my jam as a kid, and god, did I love her newest albums. Oooooh and the updated old ones? The 2018 versions of leave (get out) and too little too late... so good.
Hm. I gotta add tho bc Sara Bareilles and Michelle Branch are right up there with her. 3 year old me could sing Michelle Branch's Breathe, and i still throw it on when i feel senti. Sara bareilles music makes me feel soooo much and i love her.
Song stuck in my head: Ghost of You by 5SOS. It inspired an angsty fic that I'm gonna plot tonight, and probably shelve for future use after I finish my zine piece and my other chapterfics.
My other blogs: oof okay. @apieceforthewrongpuzzle is my studyblr. I don't use it much and mostly reblog, just for resources and helpful tips. @themundanebeautyproj was for a school assignment and I haven't deleted it bc i use it to save posts i want to find easily since i dont use it as often-- ergo, less reblogged shit to scroll through. And @haikyuutales-a-collection is the blog for my haikyuu folktales zine! I'm currently taking a short break from the PR since I don't have discord access, but follow that blog if you wanna be updated about the zine's progress and see sneakpeeks and stuff later on in the creation process!
Do I get asks: I've had a few. Some on anon, most from friends. I wouldn't mind more though!
Following: uhhhhhhh 524...? Whoops
Followers: 80! Wow that's a lot. Thanks guys!
Amount of sleep: usually 8-10? All i know is almost always, regardless of what time i fall asleep, i wake up around 9ish. Recently, anyway.
Lucky number: i've always really liked 7.
What I'm wearing: an "okay? Okay." Shirt that has two sad little cuts in the bottom left from who knows where and black and green sports shorts-- yknow, the weird holey ones.
Dream job: teaching, or something involving museums or libraries. Editing would be nice too.
Dream trip: honestly? Anywhere. I'd love to visit more asian countries tho, especially japan and korea!
Favorite food: bacon or chocolate! Also rice. Fuck yeah rice is great
Play any instruments: i briefly tried to learn guitar but soon gave up. So no. I sing tho.
Languages: English is my mother tongue, obviously, it's what I grew up speaking, but I have a pretty decent grasp of Filipino (mostly comprehension, my grammar is shit). I also know very very basic Mandarin. Not a lot. Briefly tried to use duolingo for french so i have a smattering of vocab in that language. I also once had a phase where i tried russian. I remember like. 2 phrases and nothing of the alphabet. Uh. I know some ASL? Like. 5-10 signs and fingerspelling only tho.
Favorite songs: ..... don't ask me this. I listen to a Lot
Random facts:
I'm Catholic, but not super devout
I sometimes write poetry
You can't see them unless you're rightttt up in my face, but i have some freckles on my nose and cheeks. They're hidden by my dark-ish skin tho.
I like to lick my lollipops slow and whatever idk, and i only eat orange ones
I studied STEM in my last 2 years of hs and hated it, my whole class knew I should've gone humanities bc that's where my passion was
I discovered I liked writing in 7th grade a week after I turned down an invitation from the writing club to join the invitational science club instead. I didn't have much fun. (Seems like foreshadowing....)
I was once in the top 24 students for math in my grade level-- out of 280 students give or take. Only for 4th and 5th grade tho.
Uh. My SAT score was 1440?
Lol they're all acads related bc i went to visit my old school today and have no idea what else to say.
Bonus-- describe yourself as aesthetic things: polaroids and old letters, open notebooks and fountain pens, calligraphy inks in bottles lined up on shelves. Sunsets through windows and a girl with her arms spread wide in the rain. Also fairy lights and lanterns. A single knife blade. Headphones.
Okay! Tagging is hard. I tag!!! @mooifyourecows @sugaandyams @i-am-a-bit-of-a-crank @rootnjoons @lovetinted @cheetahleopard @tentaclebubbles @tendous-satoris @that-one-guy-in-naruto @onceabluemoonwrites @tottwriter @raincloud10 @satans-little-rabbit @cathxstra @glitch-writes @icannotbebotheredanymore @kenmagoesblep @cubistemoji andddd idk im out of ideas for who to tag wow ok.
Just do it if you want!!!!
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