#but the patchwork pals are what really fucked me

[unpretty]

there's a dragon hoard ita bag.... how is my wallet supposed to thrive under these conditions

i'm telling myself that it's fine and i'll probably cancel some of them before the campaigns are over and therefore there's no harm in jumping in and getting the early bird specials. but also. i am not going to do that. and the charges that hit my account in a month will be truly terrifying.

[suspiciousriver]

At the Gas Station

The patchwork quilt is this:

a Navajo, a pal, a Ronald Reagan,

Two baritone boys, and an alcoholic.

Spanish, plaid, orange juice, white noise,

Criterion, draping my legs over Paul’s

knees and his playful tap.

Me and my friends and we’re chugging beer,

Sky shows up and she was a friend from my childhood

And she plays pool with her boyfriend

and they’re the type that Neo opens the door to.

I bought two gray rabbits at King’s Thrift

And I positioned them to touch noses.

Two black eyes and their noses kissing

on a bookcase and when I sat on the couch

I began to think of them as a camera.

I painted the one rabbit pink with flowers

and left the other one gray.

I looked to the left and their eyes were

Cold-black and chill-haunted.

This is how we taunt: with helicopters

and invisible cameras and a surveilled

Boob light.

No one believes that Paul and I were

that tight.

Zach gives me two objects:

A Gameboy and a wind-up mouth toy,

You twist it and it chatters and jumps

Downstairs. I have too many lost objects to count.

I had three chests that I kept by the door.

A trophy from my debate days.

I was neatly clipped.

He was neatly tipped.

I am too tired to talk.

It’s too dark to walk.

I’m better suited for flourescent-white, sterile,

spandex environments anyway.

I have seen this before:

Mother-rape-son. He had a right to roll

his eyes. African man with angry eyes

I’m trying to tell you:

Maybe when I look in the mirror I see a face that’s better suited for darkness, or lamps, and that scares me — the sun can be so critical.

I don’t always feel deserving of it.

Ever catch a sun ray so pure and warm it sets your heart on fire? I chase that feeling daily. I chase warmth daily.

Love is a form of knowledge,

which I think it is.

We share blue eyeliner.

You’re a thought in your own head, honey.

Will a Twisted tea fix this?

It won’t.

It’s all hidden crackhead knowledge.

These are the treats.

Every day

boiled eggs.

Castro visited Utah and the truck

newspapers. Rich!

That was genuine disgust

Because I looked like a

mullet-Malcom-X-Nazi-whore.

The Asian doctor sniffed my crotch

And said, “You’re really being released

with all of that baggage?”

Fuck you. This is why he ran.

St. George man and I ride the same

wavelength. He was trying to maintain

his sanity.

They flock around Derrick's slit neck

and I am so grief-ridden that I kicked

him. I did not want to escalate.

Is he alive? South Korea Ender’s Game dude

and his robotic voice cracked into my skull:

I am thinking about sex.

This is why I cannot sleep.

He’s 32. You’re nothing. You’re everything.

Give it to Gina: I looked trashy as hell.

Can you act black for a second?

What does Cuba represent?

Not Adrian. Not Adrienne.

Pizza gate: I am politely telling you,

I do not have that disease.

Thank you. It was Isaiah’s parakeet,

and the Bible. I am politely

asking you to show me your 7 cults.

I am asking you to FaceTime my husband

and his dirty beard and a seatbelt.

Day Two, they helped strap

me to a gurney and I was secured.

We like to drop hints: Sunglasses and something is seriously wrong

with the lifeboat. It was his ball sweat and a dog named Cujo.

My father/crack was a child. My father thinks I’m ugly.

It’s about time we met each other

for real. I resisted those journals for two years

because he Ultra-Blued his way onto my couch.

A big treat from the nice girl, pink soap.

I was smelly. I was brown. Here are your affirmation

cards: World-War-3. I should have

invited Shane(heroin)and my mother(meth)

to share the same couch. I had to snip

my chlorine hair because it was locking.

California is the deep fake. Home box office

recession. Century 16. Who can pretend to be the

most grateful for a chicken leg? I was.

me and a denim coat. Artificially intelligent

and let’s keep shit on TikTok. I met you through

MF Doom and Tupac. The world’s worst violent arm

length and fishing for work. Pork! I want to eat you.

Toasters and fake forks and that twitch.

It’s mine. I want small work. Here is the crystal cage.

Men are obsessed with my militantly tight pussy

and masked men keep shit loud. I don’t know why you don’t finger yourself

I want you! That was a real treat from Joe. I want to sever three red ties.

The blonde. The host. The pace. MINUS 3 POINTS: BACK TO JAZZ.

He lashes his own back like Jesus

and I cannot help him there.

That was her favorite hiss.

[queenangst]

uraraka-centric fic recs

it’s time for my best girl! here’s a collection of 27 gen, uraraka-centric fic recs. a mix of mostly canon compliant fics and some aus; hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, and everything in between. 

for more fic recs, please check out my:  ‘fic rec’ tag | ‘bnha fic rec’ tag | ‘weekly fic roundup’ tag (bnha)

Starfire by Anonymous

gen; 2.6k; chapters 1/1 complete

Stars create gravity, and Uraraka wishes on herself.

It was impossible to make her own shooting stars, but that inspiration sounded like a touch of divinity. Only the imaginings of a god with their versatility of powers could be capable of involving outer space. Uraraka...dreamed of that.

Home for Christmas by sobakasuai

gen; 1.2k; chapters 1/1 complete

Ochako feels slightly pitiful about herself as she loads a few more cups of noodles into her shopping basket. Christmas Eve was a time spent with family— a time for gifts under the tree, multicolored lights in the windows, and sending cheesy postcards in the mail.

Yet here she is, stocking up on sustenance as she rushes to get back to the dormitories before it gets too dark to be comfortable with walking back alone. A violation of Christmas spirit in human form, feeling not unlike Ebenezer Scrooge.

Barology by MissAquarius

gen; 4.6k; chapters 1/1 complete

Barology: the study of gravity.

intersection by kiroiimye

gen; 1.2k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & bakugou

“Getting coffee, obviously.” She doesn’t want to meet his eyes and it’s only happened once before; the first times had been intimidation from hardened crimson eyes. But as the years went on, she had grown past that stage; he was more a classmate than enemy. “Would you like to—

“Nope.” It’s flippant, over-the-shoulder, but Bakugou makes no move to leave and Ochako can’t help but smile wryly.

It’s the sort of thing he’d pull when they were younger.

Ochako runs into Bakugou after graduation.

momentous by kiroiimye

gen; 2/6k; chapters 1/1 complete

She’s in the middle of a math lesson, ignoring the whispers behind her back when the rumbling starts. It’s a dull roar in the beginning, and it’s when the pens start rattling on her desk that she stops the lecture. Even the students have gone quiet in their seats, the room stilled with tension.

“Uraraka-sensei, what was that?”

Ochako squares her shoulders, lowering her voice. “I don’t know, but stay alert.”

And then the water comes rushing in.

Becoming a teacher was not part of Ochako's post-U.A. plans, and yet here she is. Standing in front of a raucous class of about twenty teenagers, who all seem to have it out for her. Really, why is she here again?

The Hunger for Survival by SingingCookie

gen; 6.2k; chapters 1/1 complete

People say your early life shapes you, really molds you into the person you’ll become. Likes, dislikes, the habits, the tics, and the pet peeves… A majority of that when you grow up is influenced by where you came from.

Ochako’s early life shaped her into someone who knew how to survive—but it was always the living that fell just out of reach.

one hundred percent by UnidentifiedPie

gen; 2.2k; chapters 1/1 complete

White like bone, Uraraka thinks, mind flashing back to the people she saw on the street. Civilians lying all around, eyes blank and staring and dead. The defeated hero, body a mangled mess, spilled organs and shattered, bloodied bone.

She’d watched that hero die. The villain Uraraka had fought had gripped him by the neck and supercharged his blood, contorted his body into something twisted and terrible. She’d run for him, something screaming in her heart and lungs and nononono-

-but she wasn’t fast enough. And it didn’t matter anyway; the man had been dead before he’d hit the ground.

Patchwork by bishounen_curious

gen; 6.8k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & 1a/1b girls

At the beginning of Third Year, Ochako suggests to the girls in the Hero Course that they make a patchwork quilt to commemorate their time together at U.A., their friendship and their solidarity as women in the hero profession. Something private and special that they all can share for years to come.

However, the quilt doesn't get finished. And it never does.

at long last by Quintessence

gen; 2.7k; chapter 1/1 complete; uraraka family

"Her parents were proud. The kind of proud that came from decades of unrelenting hard work matched in intensity only by their miserable luck. The kind of proud that made them refuse the money Ochako sent after her every paycheck. The kind of proud that was going to make a gift of the magnitude she planned to give go down as easily as a mouthful of chalky pills without water."

In which pro-hero Uravity finally achieves her lifelong dream of giving her parents an easy life.

got your six by Quintessence

gen; 1.6k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & bakugou

“Oh, yeah, they rejected my application,” Uraraka says, like it’s nothing, which, Bakugou decides, fists clenched under the table, it most certainly isn’t. “They’re mostly a combat-based agency, and they thought I’d be better suited for a rescue oriented one. So I’m gonna keep looking. I mean, Kurashiki Agencies isn’t the only game in town, so I’m a little bummed, but it’s okay.”

And then she has the nerve to smile, making her full, pink cheeks even rounder, shrug, and take a sip of her drink. Bakugou has to breathe deeply before he replies, because he really is working on not lashing out as much anymore, but the anger burns and bubbles like boiling water in his stomach.

“That’s the biggest fucking load of bullshit I’ve ever heard, Round-Face.” His teeth are clenched as he speaks, but at least he’s not yelling. “I mean, have they even seen what you can do? Or did they just take one look at your Quirk and fucking write you off?”

In which Uraraka gets rejected from a hero agency, and Bakugou is her most aggressive (and I mean aggressive) supporter.

Like an Onion by BigDangoFamily

gen; 3.7k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & aoyama, background/minor uraraka/midoriya

It was strange, Uraraka thought, how someone so sparkly and so over-the-top could fade into the background so easily. Even with his theatrical nature and his showy costume and his (quite literally) dazzling Quirk, Uraraka had somehow never noticed Aoyama that much.

He was a piece of the background; he helped make up the landscape of their class; he was a figure her eyes automatically skipped over in her search for her friends—which, when she put it like that, made it sound pretty harsh.

It wasn’t that she particularly disliked Aoyama. She would gladly enjoy time spent hanging out with anyone in Class 1-A (well, maybe not Mineta), and she was friendly to all her classmates. That was how she was. It was just that, somehow, her eyes had always seemed to glide right off of Aoyama.

Well, now her eyes definitely saw him, and quite clearly too.

OR: Uraraka unexpectedly comes to respect Aoyama.

Determination by chockfullofsecrets

gen; 1.1k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & midoriya

If Uraraka wants to win this sparring match, she’s going to need to find a way to put a stop to Deku’s endless determination.

perfidy by khattikeri

gen; 500 words; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & midoriya

She pressed the knife harder against Midoriya's throat.

Just Keep Floating by ProPinkist

gen; 2.9k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & all might

Ochako runs into Toshinori, hiding away alone in the dorms, who might could use a helping hand.

Luckily, in this case, she's just the right person for the job.

Uravity: (Kitten) Rescue Hero by TenyaTrash

gen; 1.4k; chapters 1/1 complete

Childhood Ochako is always looking for ways to excel as a rescue hero. She wants to help her parents, her friends, and the world.

And wouldn't you know it? She's got a knack for finding animals that are purrfectly in need of a rescue or two.

Every hero has to start somewhere!

Freefall by Cornflower_Blue

gen; 2k; chapters 1/1 complete

The first time it happens, it is an accident.

The first time it happens, Ochako is just walking around her neighborhood.

Cold Tea and Hot Tears by Wolfie_Dragon

gen; 2.6k; chapters 1/1 complete; minor uraraka/midoriya

When Ochako and the other work studies students are back at the dorms after the Shie Hasaikai raid, things are supposed to go back to normal. But Ochako finds she can't forget the horrible events. It's only in the dark of night that she finds that Deku is just as traumatized, if not more.

Scars by All_five_pieces_of_Exodia

gen; 2.4k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & dekusquad

When Ochako is training one day and gets injured because of it, she starts to wonder about scars and what the people who have them think of them.

But does she even want to know?

Normalcy Has Its Place by Madam_Chauncey

gen; 3.2k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & yaoyorozu

Sometimes a day of kickboxing with your gal pal is all you need. Or; Momo and Ochako decide to make the best of a bad week.

foundations by blueberrytree

gen; 2.5k; chapters 1/1 complete

Ochako drums her fingers anxiously on the surface of her desk. Why does she want to be a hero? It had seemed so clear before last night’s phone call—make money to support her parents and give them an easy life. Now, though? 

Gravitational Pull by Sky_King

gen; 2.9k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & dekusquad

Despite having been friends for a while now, Izuku soon realizes there's a lot he doesn't know about Uraraka.

And on the other hand, Ochako discovers that opening up to her friends might not be as frightening as she suspects it to be.

Sleep is for the Weak by baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

gen; 2.9k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & aizawa

Exhaustion was as familiar to Ochako as breathing. She was only fifteen but she felt more like she was edging on forty. But it was okay. She could just power through. She couldn’t stop now. Not when she was living her dream.

Catch Me When I Fall by baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

gen; 2.1k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & asui

Ochako feels like she's falling behind her classmates so she starts training alone. One night Tsuyu finds her and offers to help. If only they could have known what was going to happen.

If the Dress Fits by calamansifresh

gen; 2.4k; chapters 1/1 complete

It’s the day of the Annual Hero Awards Gala and Uraraka Ochako is in attendance as the recipient of the Rising Star Award. While she’s certainly proud of her heroic accomplishments, impostor syndrome rears its ugly head and she wonders if she really belongs in the spotlight.

caution, handle with care by SpiritusRex

gen; 2.7k; chapters 1/1 complete

It was an accident. Ochako reminds herself, as she cups her hand to her mouth and tries to keep the hot, bright blood from dripping through her fingers. It was an accident.

But Ochako knew, had witnessed, just how severe an accident could be.

She pulls her hand away, and her palm comes back with a jagged chunk of a tooth cradled in the center. The sight blurs in front of her eyes; a dot of white in a small pool of red.

Ochako takes a page out of Deku's book, and makes an impulsive, painful decision.

All Might for a day by PurpleCarSeat

gen; 9.3k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & all might

What had he been about to say?

Ochako expects it’s more of the same “push beyond your own limits!” stuff that he likes to spout, which always feels a little hollow coming from him because All Might doesn’t have limits. Despite what he claimed, she doesn’t think All Might has ever been weak. He’s the number one hero, perfect in every way. He can move faster than the eye can follow and jump so high he’s practically flying. He was probably trying to make her feel better – it seems like the sort of thing he’d do.

Or: Ochako learns the hard way that strength is more than just physical, and that the people at the top are only human too

Sacrifices and Jogging Routes by Quillium

gen; 5.8k; chapters 1/1 complete; uraraka & dekusquad

"We're heroes," she says instead, simply, quietly. It's hard to be excited about becoming a hero... every child's dream, what everyone idolizes... when you know the likely outcome. Most of her friends will die before her or she will be dead before they've even begun to sport wrinkles.

OR

Uraraka tries to figure out what it means to be a hero and the sacrifices that it entails.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #1-3

May, 1984

THE WAR BEGINS

Oof, here we go.

Just gotta replicate the pace that let me do the Hawkeye miniseries in one go, three times in a row.

This is probably too much effort considering its Secret Wars (or more accurately Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars) and maybe there’s not going to be a lot of big changes from this in the Avengers book to really justify it.

But we’re getting Jim Shooter writing the Avengers and his non-consecutive runs were a lot better than I had remembered. And it continues the theme he had from the Avengers book.

It just makes sense in a nonsense way to cover this story.

Last relevant time in Avengers! Acting Completely Normal Vision warned the Avengers about some weird, possibly hostile energy surges right in time for an energy surge to surge energetically in Central Park.

When the Avengers went to investigate, they found a weird structure that looked like a techy coliseum maybe. When some of the Avengers wandered into it (apparently the most bankable Avengers? Sucks to be Vision and Wanda, shrug) they vanished.

In the next issue, after several days, these heroes returned, speaking of a secret war they fought. Weird stuff like She-Hulk taking the Thing’s place on the Fantastic Four happened. In other books, Spidey got a cool new suit.

Would you know more?

After being raptured in their various books, the missing superheroes all end up on one of those distinctive structures like the one that appeared in Central Park, except IN SPACE.

Its cool that the Avengers will have some company.

We’ve got a terrific 3/4ths of the Fantastic Four, the X-Men (including Lockheed but not including Kitty Pryde for some reason), the Avengers, Iron Man, Spider-Man, the totally Articulate Hulk, and hilariously Magneto is also here.

Maybe Secret Wars is just setting up the most awkward moment in the universe, as a prank show.

I think I’d enjoy a big event that turned out to be a prank show at the last minute. The fan discontent. Imagine.

Everyone introduces themselves to each other but mostly the audience and Ben Grimm claims his new codename as the Easter Bunny.

Checking, marvel wiki doesn’t have Easter Bunny listed as one of Ben’s known aliases. Cowards.

Looking up into space, Captain America spots another one of the totally cool constructs and Professor X scans that it contains EEEEEEEVIL.

Specifically Amora the Enchantress, Ultron, the Wrecking Crew, the Absorbing Man, the Lizard, VICTOR VON DOOOOOM, Kang the Conqueror, Doctor Octopus, and Molecule Man. Also, hilariously, Galactus is there.

I’m more convinced than ever that this is a prank show.

You know what would be more hilarious? If Punisher ended up on this construct.

The distribution of villains is kind of odd though. Galactus and Doctor Doom map to the FF. Doctor Octopus and the Lizard to Spider-Man. Ultron, Molecule Man, and Kang are Avengers foes. The Absorbing Man and the Wrecking Crew can go a couple ways but started off as Thor villains. And Amora is usually a Thor villain but supposedly has chilled out around this time or at least is less of a pain than her horny sister.

No X-Men villains. Because Magneto is chilling with them in the generally heroic pod.

Also, all the heroes were raptured from Earth while the villains were grabbed from Earth, from space, from Asgard, resurrected just to be here, or from the FUTURE.

I know marketing is wagging the dog but be consistent, secret organizer who we don’t know yet.

The Thing points out that Magnet is off-sides, re: being in the hero construct, and Magneto is like ‘hey, chill out dudes’ and denies specifically doing murders.

Magneto: “I know not what power transported me here from my secret lair, nor why I was placed among you -- but I find it more appropriate to ask why such as you were judged fit to be placed in my presence!”

Oof.

Burn.

Then the conversation is put on halt on account of the wildest shit any of them have ever seen.

An entire galaxy vanishes but probably not due to a wave of anti-matter.

Thor: “It’s gone! Gone -- ! Swept away like dust before some unseen, giant hand!”

And then around that last star left unswept, various chunks merge together to form some sort of world, perhaps for battle.

A nice touch for later is that you can definitely see that one of the chunks is a stray chunk of city.

Some of the villains start squabbling because close quarters, ego, etc.

But Ultron goes hey we’re allowed to fight? I’m the best at that.

Ultron: “I am Ultron! I do not understand the events transpiring! I do not understand how I came to be resurrected... nor how I came to be here! Nothing computes... Insignificant! I am Ultron! My purpose is to slay that which lives. You are all living things, ergo -- Ultron must destroy you!”

With the benefit of having read all the Avengers up to now, I feel that Ultron got up on the wrong side of the resurrection a little.

He’s not not like this but he’s not usually this turned on?

(Then again, maybe he just came back cranky)

DOOM grabs and shakes Molecule Man to do something about this because given enough time even the mighty DOOM might fall before Ultron.

Ultron is famously annoying to defeat, what with that adamantium.

But Molecule Man is in therapy after the Avengers kicked his shit and Tigra yelled at him for being a punk. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

So Doom with all his brilliant genius tells MM a cool way to help out that won’t hurt anyone. Directly.

Using his Molecule Man power over molecules to lightly toss Ultron into Galactus.

So that Galactus goes ‘who the fuck scuffed my boots’ and rips out all the energy in Ultron’s Ultron.

He can do that.

Why wouldn’t he? If he can do that to a planet, he can do it to a pissbaby robot. Even one apparently containing more power than an atom bomb.

Then, because this is one of those plots where things are always thenning, a rift opens in the nothingness of space and a heavenly esque light shines out. A warbly voice commands the action figures beat each other up.

I mean. Its more like

The Beyonder: “I am from beyond! Slay your enemies and all you desire shall be yours! Nothing you dream of is impossible for me to accomplish!”

But you have to admire that this toy commercial of a comic book is being honest and upfront about being a story where action figures bonk off of each other.

Galactus just hears ‘i can finally shake off these persistent forever munchies’ and flies off to demand prepayment for action figure bonking, with DOOM following behind him.

The Beyonder speaks up warning Galactus that hey, personal space. And that a guy that can effortlessly wipe out a galaxy is gonna have a sweet barrier but Galactus wants the hunger pangs gone and does not listen.

DOOM recognizes a bad idea when he sees one once in a while and hangs back but still gets blown out of space by the force of Galactus bonking off the Beyonder’s barriers.

Captain America: “They were swatted back like flies!”

Professor X: “To the Beyonder, even Galactus is less than a fly, Captain!”

Interruption dealt with, the Beyonder gets the show on the road and sends the two constructs to different parts of the patchwork planet.

The Marvel Super Heroes And Magneto land on some hill and quickly make sure that there are no villains excepting Magneto around.

With Magneto around, the non-X-Men raise an objection to Magneto being around.

He sank a Russian submarine with all hands back in X-Men #150 but he insists that it was self-defense and also they started it.

The X-Men’s position is ‘hey he’s a jerk but he’s our jerk plus we could use his help? The bad guys get GALACTUS, how is that fair?’

Well, they don’t say it but they’re probably thinking it.

And Hawkeye decides to be a little racist today.

Hawkeye: “You mutants stick together, huh? Well, sticking to a blood-soaked maniac like him doesn’t speak well of you, pal!”

Dude, Clint. Your dear old friend is Wanda.

Wait, why ISN’T Wanda here? Did the toy people really not want her? Fools. Her husband is toyetic as all get out.

Also, point of order, Wolverine? If anyone qualifies as ‘hey he’s a jerk but he’s our jerk!’ here its you.

Johnny “good life choices” Storm decides he’ll just kick Magneto’s ass and end the debate but yeah. Yeah, no. Magneto makes a fool of him.

And then Magneto decides eff this noise and flies off.

With Magneto alienated (good job, guys), Professor X decides this group needs some dang leadership and throws a nomination to Reed Richards. Reed defers since he’s thinking of Sue, left at home and not able to participate in the event.

Wasp, the cool leader of the Avengers, nominates instead Captain America.

Wasp: “We’re off in a strange land, up to our ears in a little secret war that may decide the fate of the universe! Some people don’t know me well! They might have doubts... and there’s no room for that!”

I’m baffled that there’s people here who don’t know Wasp who has been heroing since the 60s but sure. Cap(tain America) probably gets more crossovers and whatever.

I mean, heck, we’re talking a group of heroes consisting of the Avengers (who she already leads), the Fantastic Three (who she’s well acquainted with), and the X-Men (who I’m sure she’s met, although awkwardly its going to later be revealed that Wasp is in the Hellfire Club, but only the sex parts).

And I guess Wolverine’s extensive backstory with Cap doesn’t exist yet because Wolverine isn’t keen on him being the leader, describing him as the least of the assembled heroes. When Hawkeye is right there!

I kid because I love.

Meanwhile, DOOM wakes up adjacent to Galactus ankle and heads to a nearby fortress which he correctly assumes is where the villains have ended up.

Wait, the heroes get beamed down to a random hill while the villains get sent to an advanced fortress with weaponry and we later learn vehicles sold separately?

Kinda stacking the deck, the Beyonder.

You gave the villains GALACTUS and A FORTRESS PLAYSET right out of the gate.

The other villains tell Doom that they’ve (mostly) decided that he should be their leader. But Doom has bigger fish to fry than the prizes that the Beyonder is offering.

In typical Doomesque fashion, he wants the whole kettle. But the other villains what with their petty concerns think he’s too afraid to fight.

So he ditches.

He goes to steal-borrow a spaceship and even though he hates the thought, takes off to go talk to Richards. And then Kang shoots him out of the sky with a GIANT GUN THAT THE VILLAIN FORTRESS ALSO HAS? to stop him from allying with the heroes.

Said (marvel super) heroes see the distant explosion and fly as a group in the most hilarious way possible to check it out.

God, I have always loved this image. Its squished down into the bottom third of the page but its a delight.

They find Doom sprawled in the crash site, rambling that he’ll only speak to RICHARRRRRDS and about the Beyonder’s power. But Cap offends Doom mightily but offering him a hand up and because Doom sees pity in Cap and RICHARRRRRRDS eyes.

So he blasts the heroes and fucks off.

How very Bakugou of him.

And right as the heroes recover from that, a bunch of villains arrive to get this secret war started.

I have a fondness for this particular issue. For a long while, issue 1 was the only issue of Secret Wars I could find. So I just had the start of this story with all these non-Spider-Man non-X-Men heroes I barely knew cliffhangering into an attack by villains I really didn’t recognize except for Doc Ock and the Lizard.

It was a window into another side of the Marvel Universe. And for child me, this first issue worked perfectly to intrigue me. All these characters, the very straightforward conflict, all the complications that immediately pop up like Magneto, Galactus, and Doom. Alas, small child resources.

June, 1984

PRISONERS of War!

The heroes react slowly to the sudden villain attack but thankfully, the villains aren’t working together well. Unthankfully, half of the heroes were already knocked out by the first attack.

Meanwhile, over at Doctor Doom’s side of the plot, he flies back over to where Galactus just in time to see him finally rouse from being slapped down by the Beyonder.

Galactus floats to his feet and wanders off.

Doom: “He ignored me! As though I were a gnat buzzing at his feet! And so I am... Just as all of us, even Galactus himself, are but insects to the all-powerful Beyonder! Thus, the others have chosen to play the Beyonder’s simple game -- thereby, in effect, paying homage to him. Should I, too, pay homage? Should I worship at the feet of this god-like being -- or chose another path... one only Doom would dare!”

I think anyone that knows Doom knows which option he’s gonna choose.

He heads back to the villain fortress and finds Ultron’s deactivated body and decides Doom can use this.

Meanwhile, back at the first secret battle of the secret war, the heroes rally and start fighting back under Cap(tain America)’s leadership.

She-Hulk even gets a designated girl fight with the only female villain on the villain team.

I’d complain, I would. But at least She-Hulk isn’t the only heroine on the hero side.

She-Hulk: “Hiya! I’m the She-Hulk! You must be the Enchantress! Gee, I’ve heard so much about you -- ! You’re a not-nice lady!”

Enchantress: “A green woman? Is there no end to the varieties of mortals?”

The Enchantress magic slaps She-Hulk away and comments that she could crush She-Hulk physically but its beneath her.

Yeah, all Asgardians have some level of super strength, that’s right. Even the squishy wizards.

But all She-Hulk heard was, ‘someone I can really punch!’

She-Hulk: “I don’t often duke it out with someone solid enough to really unload on -- and slow enough to let me! Oh, wow! That was, like tubular, you know -- to the max!”

Uh. Jen, are you okay? Did you have a stroke? You don’t usually talk so much in Mario World secret world levels.

I think maybe Jim Shooter didn’t have a good grasp on her. I don’t think he’s ever written for her. And the other heroes mostly don’t vary too much from generic hero speaking patterns. Add some smart for smart characters, add some rude to Wolverine, and so on.

The battle wraps up with Kang, the Enchantress, and the Wrecking Crew captured and the rest of the villains fleeing when the battle didn’t go their way.

Cap sends Storm off to scout for a cool playset that they can use as shelter and she does so, noting that the winds on Battleworld are super easy to control. Like Battleworld was created to create ideal fighting conditions for everyone. Pretty neat, the Beyonder.

Storm finds a particularly rad fortress (”Bigger than fifty-four and a half Pentagons, I’d estimate!” Wow!) and the heroes move in.

I unironically enjoy how toyetic this story is with the fortresses and the vehicles and the weapons. Because I’m almost positive that Mattel barely capitalized on it.

There were only two playsets. Pitiful.

Over in their new headquarters, Reed stashes the captured villains in some form of psychostasis which “works by controlling aggression through brainwave modulation!”

He also sticks Enchantress in a healing pod to address that nasty case of being She-Hulked right in the face. Nothing will salve her ego though.

Captain America: “It’s no wonder that the name Mister Fantastic is renowned for compassion as well as courage! You give added meaning to the word hero, Richards!”

Whenever someone loudly announces that Reed is super compassionate, it makes me feel like they’re overcompensating.

Nobody ever makes note of, say, Captain America’s compassion.

With the prisoners (of war? Is that the whole reason for the title?) accommodated, Cap calls everyone for a meeting in a cool meeting dome he found which has a small waterfall for aesthetic and so everyone has to yell to be heard.

Wolverine yells that they should mop up the rest of the villains and get this over with.

Not mentioning that in order to “win it” they’d have to kill the villains, which none of the heroes have shown any interest in doing so far.

Cap(tain America) replies that A) planet big and they have no idea where the villains got to. And B) the remaining villains slash antagonists are Galactus, Doctor Doom, Molecule Man, Doctor Octopus, the Wrecker, the Absorbing Man, and Magneto. Not really people you mop up.

In a fun logistics bit, Cap sends out a patrol to make sure the area is secure but he also sends out two additional groups to find  if there are any places in this fortress they can sleep and whether there's any... food.

Makes me imagine a Secret Survival War where the sides have to wrestle over limited resources.

Hours later, the villains that escaped the fracas arrive back at their fortress.

I’m sort of confused here.

Maybe it took so long because they had to make sure they weren’t followed. Or maybe because they didn’t have the sweet tripod vehicle anymore. But think about the flow of events of: everyone beamed down to Battleworld > Doom ditches the villains and gets shot down > heroes investigate and Doom ditches > villains show up for cliffhanger fight.

The villain fortress should be pretty close to where that fight took place. And then the heroes find a nearby fortress of their own so their fortress should be pretty close to the villain fortress. Maybe not in the same neighborhood but surely the same zip code.

Anyway, they find that while they were gone, Doom swanned in and renamed the place the Doombase.

If they have problems with it, they can talk to his Ultron.

Which I’m surprised he didn’t rename Doomtron.

Doom also tells them that he’s in charge now.

Absorbing Man: “Aw! Who gives a hoot! I need a meal an’ sleep! You wanna be in charge, Doom? Okay by me!”

If you think about it, this is just some steps added what the villains wanted all along.

They wanted Doom to be their leader but he told them he had bigger fish to fry and fucked off. Now he’s fucked back on and told them all that he’s their leader. They initially object before reconsidering due to Doomtron but, yeah, its all gone full circle.

Doom is a lot more cordial to Molecule Man though.

Doom: “Molecule Man... uh, Mr. Reece, I believe it is? I trust you were not inconvenienced.”

Molecule Man: “Well, being absolute master of molecules I can just assimilate molecules when I want, so I never have to be hungry, and I can just shoo away dirt molecules, so I’m always nice and clean -- but I am tired!”

Doom: “I have prepared a special chamber for you! I hope you like it!”

Molecule Man: “If not, I can always reconstruct the molecules -- !”

Heh.

Nice to see Jim Shooter able to follow up on the trajectory he sent Molecule Man on.

The rest of the villains head off but Doctor Octopus, the only other brain cell in this group, hangs back to talk to DOOM.

He wants to know what he plans to do about Galactus and then shows Doom on the biggest screen TV that Galactus is standing on a mountain glowing with an awesome power.

Doom just retorts that his plans are for his forces to triumph.

Doctor Octopus: Something tells me he’s got ambitions that dwarf merely triumphing in the Beyonder’s little contest! The question is whether he will destroy us in trying to achieve them -- or immediately after fulfilling them?!

Like I said, the only other brain cell in this group.

Meanwhile, while Magneto secretly sneaks into the hero fortress for Reasons, the heroes have a quiet moment that lets this Secret Wars biz really sink in.

Wasp: “I’d be having tea in my studio now, Jenny... And lunch on my patio tomorrow... This... um... situation we’re in... is kind of... much, you know? I feel there’s just a little thin wall inside me holding back a flood of despair!”

Its a nice touch, if intentional, that Wasp only admits this kind of thing now that she’s passed off the leadership responsibilities to Captain America. Its been a recurring character beat that she’s been keeping these sorts of worries to herself as chairwoman.

Over in another part of the fortress, Cyclops complains that he was right in the middle of his dang honeymoon when he was yanked into this event.

Cyclops: “I don’t know about you, Richards, but more than angry or afraid, I feel cheated! I -- I was on the verge of real happiness...”

Oof. This really sets the tone for his marriage with Madelyne Pryor.

Spider-Man and the Human Torch even have a little conversation.

Spider-Man: “You mean it doesn’t shake you, Torch, being here? What if we don’t get home?”

Human Torch: “The Fantastic Four have been off on space missions a couple of times, Spider-Man! We’ll get back! Believe me!”

I like when they’re friends.

So, I’m not sure what Magneto’s plan actually was. He was going to sabotage the fortress’ fusion generator as a distraction but Spider-Man’s Spider-Sense Spider-Alerts him to shenanigans afoot and he runs off to the power plant while Johnny Storm goes to get the other heroes.

Magneto decides to abandon whatever his plan was and captures Wasp as a consolation prize.

Gasp, another prisoner of war!

The Thing tries to give chase but inexplicably turns back to normal, smooth skinned Ben Grimm.

Also, Magneto escapes with the Wasp.

It’s like the aardvark says, you can get what you want and still not be happy.

Captain Marvel is holding the randomly anti-mutant ball for Hawkeye here and comments that none of the X-Men showed up to help stop Magneto.

Cap(tain America) tells her to belay that.

Captain America: “Let’s keep our minds on solving problems, not creating more!”

And they can’t even go after Magneto or rescue the Wasp right now because they have bigger problems: Galactus glowing with an awesome power and a massive storm that’s forming on Battleworld.

July, 1984

TEMPEST WITHOUT, CRISIS WITHIN!

The Beyonder has thrown in a nice stage hazard to keep things fresh in the form of a massive storm raging on Battleworld, with lighting that shatters mountains and winds that could tear someone’s limbs clean off.

Or perhaps its the unintentional result of just slapping a planet together out of random stuff you have lying around. The climate must be shot to shit.

I like it either way. Secret Wars has a lot of very toyetic collisions between groups of characters so its nice when Battleworld itself manages to be an obstacle.

Over in his giant U-shaped fortress, Magneto finally unwraps Wasp from the ball of random metal crap he has her in.

He lets her wander around until she finds him so that he can be all casual and eating a space scone.

Magneto: “Do not bother trying to attack me, my dear! My person is magnetically shielded!”

Wasp: “Well, la-de-da!”

Wasp: -blows up his space scone- “You think I have to strike at you directly to hurt you, monster?”

Hilarious spite, thy name is Janet van Dyne.

She also makes the point that magnetic shielding or no, she could bring this whole room down. Her being able to knock over a small house with her pew pew hasn’t stopped being true.

Magneto hastens to ask her not to do that because neither of them want to be out in the storm outside.

Besides, he just wants to talk! And flirt!

Magneto: “You are obviously a woman of intelligence and understanding as well as great beauty -- and I am not the monster you believe I am -- which is precisely what I wish to discuss!”

Wasp: “Oh? My intelligence, understanding and beauty or your non-monsterhood?”

Magneto: “Why... both!”

Back at the hero base (which is apparently ROUGHLY THE SIZE OF CHICAGO?? I want that playset), the storm has almost completely flooded the area, leaving just the top dome and such poking above the water.

The storm keeps dropping chunks of mountain at the base but Thor is standing on top, protecting it while grinning like a loon.

Captain Marvel even speculates that Thor could calm the storm but is whipping it up into a greater frenzy instead. Those storm gods, amirite?

Hawkeye is also standing by, with his explosive arrow, thinking to himself that if Thor fails, Hawkeye will totally save the day.

I don’t know whether that’s sad or endearing.

Mostly though he’s trying to distract himself from thinking about the new wife he left behind.

Cap, Reed, and Hulk are watching the villain base because apparently they do know where it is. The storm is keeping the villains in too but Cap figures they’ll pull one desperate attack as soon as the storm breaks.

They’ve already lost four of their dudes. Plus, Galactus isn’t a team player.

Spider-Man is just swinging around, enjoying how good for swinging the random technological pipes and tubes and whatsits are when he stumbles upon the X-Men having a secret meeting.

Professor X has decided, possibly on the basis of two (2) rude comments from Hawkeye and Captain Marvel, that the X-Men just don’t belong here and that they’d be better off going and teaming up with Magneto.

This... sure is a take.

Rogue comments that the Avengers don’t trust her because of that time she kicked their asses collectively. Which, hey, very possibly. They haven’t really had a thing to say about you though. They’ve mostly been grouchy about Magneto.

Which is kinda born out by the way he tried to blow up their base and definitely kidnapped the Wasp?? And is even now aggressively eating scones at her?

That’s the Magneto you guys want to go join because he’s more your people than the Fantastic Avengers and friends are?

You know, there’s a pattern I sometimes see with the X-Men where they loudly insist that the other superheroes don’t help them and don’t care about mutant stuff while at the same time doing shit like this.

“Should we get Reed Richards, smartest dick in the world to help with the legacy virus or the techno-organic virus Stryfe shot into Xavier? NAHHHH Beast can handle it.”

“Should we stick with the other superheroes or go hang with Magneto instead in a cool mutants only U-shaped fortress? Well, U is the coolest letter that isn’t X...”

If you squint, you can definitely see Krakoa all the way in the future.

Anyway, Spider-Man overheard all of this and goes ‘I’M TELLING!’

Wolverine tries to tell him that snitches get stitches but the thing is?

Spider-Man is ridiculous. He’s a ridiculously good combination of skills and powers which lets him make chumps out of entire groups at a time.

He’s embarrassed the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, and now he’s about to embarrass the X-Men.

After making them all feel foolish, Spider-Man gets away and goes to tell Reed what that doody-head Xavier said when Xavier uses his psychic powers to just wipe the entire encounter out of Spider-Man’s memory.

Yeah, it’s to cover their imminent blowing off but also? I don’t think he wants anyone else to find out how badly his X-Men just got stomped.

Psychics are too OP, I tell you what.

In fairness IN FAIRNESS, the X-Men kind of have the right to fuck right off if they wish. I don’t even know what it had to be in secret. In fact, doing it in secret is a massive dick move of its own for reasons.

What would the Fantastic Avengers have done if the X-Men had just said ‘hey we’re heading out’? Would they have put them in stasis tube jail? I doubt it.

Professor X made the decision to handle this the stupidest way for whatever reason. That scamp.

Speaking of Magneto, he’s over at the U-Lair turning down a partnership offer from DOOM. So, hey, he has standards.

Wasp has become less ‘i’ll blow up this room and your breakfast’ about him over the course of whatever the hell they discussed in their offscreen chat.

Magneto even starts to make out with her and Wasp is like ehhhhhhhhhh what the fuck why not.

Why is this happening?

I guess he has a...................... magnetic personality?

Eh? Eh??

No, but seriously, I do have a theory that I heard someplace but it’ll have to wait.

What’s weird is that there’s a Marvel What If about some spinoff babies that come about if the heroes and villains got stuck on Battleworld and never managed to leave.

Wasp has a son with Human Torch. Which is pretty weird and comes from nowhere. I guess a lot can happen during a massive time skip. My point being though, its weird that they didn’t have a Wasp/Magneto baby instead given the weird chemistry they have here.

Meanwhile, over at DOOMBASE, DOOM has some women in giant tubes.

That’s So Doom.

Doctor Doom: “All is ready -- ! This alien technology, so rich, so subtle... so easily harnessed to serve my purpose... Energy, tapped from the raging tempest... And two mortal subjects who dare to gamble for power -- knowing that to lose is death, for truly, here I shall test the limits of power a human body can contain! With the throwing of a switch... so -- the die is cast! Hear me -- ! Power must be seized -- ! Crave it! Welcome it! Drink it in, despite the pain... or it will destroy you.”

And thus are Volcana and Titania created!

Talk about lasting effects of Secret Wars! Titania is going to be around forever! Mostly annoying She-Hulk!

Where did Doom find two random women to give superpowers?

Denver, Colorado.

No, seriously.

That city chunk we saw as Battleworld formed? That’s Denver, Colorado, USA, EARTH.

Why isn’t there a miniseries or one-shot about a normal ass civilian from Denver having to deal with OH MY GOD WHERE DID EARTH GO?

I actually read an interesting thing re: this scene. It exists because Mattel asked Marvel to introduce some new female characters so Shooter wrote in these two and a third who I’ll get to when I do.

Mattel then promptly used none of these characters for the associated toyline.

The toyline, in fact, used none female characters at all. It made toys of characters who weren’t in the story but did not have a single female character.

So its very weird that they asked Marvel to introduce some but I’m not going to knock the results.

Doom introduces these two new characters to the other villains.

Hilariously, Absorbing Man guesses that Doctor Doom just made women from scratch. Because doesn’t it sound like something he could do?

Volcana and Molecule Man immediately hit it off, her being attracted to his sensitivity and him being attracted to... positive attention at all, I guess?

He muses that he could easily stop the storm outside, because molecules, but his therapist told him to let nature take its course. “Unless Doom asks me to!”

And Titania and Absorbing Man. They don’t hit it off. She either wants to hit him or hit that and its not clear and it might be both.

(Spoilers: Its both)

Titania: “You! Absorbing Man! You look like the toughest man here! Get up!”

Absorbing Man: “Whatcha got in mind?”

Titania: “I’m going to do anything I want to you! Everything I always wanted to do to everybody who used to be bigger and stronger than me! Maybe I’ll just play with you... or maybe I’ll make you eat dirt... or maybe...”

Absorbing Man: “Woman, if you got somethin’ to prove, prove it tomorrow against the guys we’re fightin’!”

Titania: “You’re backing down?”

Absorbing Man: “Nope! I just ain’t getting up! I got nothin’ to prove... to a dame!”

Would you believe that they become one of the healthiest and most stable romantic relationships in Marvel?

Speaking of weird relationships, back over at hero base, Thor goes and pops the lid on Enchanteress’ healing tube because he’s bored and wants to talk to a peer. A god peer.

Enchantress is at first more characteristically worried about what her face looks like after being She-Hulked.

But she then creates a portal so she and Thor can go have a chat.

Later, it’s morning and Hulk has been too busy stressing over losing his Banner smarts to actually keep watch or wake up Cap for watch like he was supposed to.

So when the villains ram an airship into the hero base, the heroes are not at all prepared.

Titania hurls a giant slab of wall through the room the Terrific Three are sharing, breaking Johnny Torch’s arm and ribs and knocking out the other two. He manages to get himself and co out of danger by melting through the floor.

Meanwhile, She-Hulk is carrying a big heavy as she’s been doing since the previous night and is caught unaware by Volcana who blasts her off her feet and then collapses the room on top of her.

Doctor Octopus knocks out Captain Marvel who is in the hot springs dome but gets chased away by Hawkeye, claiming that long-range firepower is his weakness.

I’m stunned at the implication that Doc Ock is one of Spider-Man’s most dangerous foes but could be scared off by Hawkeye while Spider-Man could pretty easily drop Clint’s ass. There’s some rock-paper-scissors nonsense at play here.

Spider-Man and Iron Man are also taken unawares by Ultron but manage to hide under some rubble.

Hulk leaps into the fray at Molecule Man and Doom but Cap convinces him to fall back to a defensible position.

The villains reconvene with all the captured villains freed except Enchantress (since she fucked off to have a chat with Thor) and the heroes scattered and buried under various rubbles. How the fortunes of Secret War turn.

Sure would have been nice if the X-Men had been around to help or if they mentioned they wouldn’t be. Sure would have been.

Doom: “We have accomplished much here today! And to finish it, we shall level this place so that no stone remains on stone!”

No wonder Mattel didn’t make a playset of this base! Dammit Doom, you’re ruining the merchandising!

Follow @essential-avengers​ for more of Secret Wars! At this same pace! Its sustainable! This is fine! Like and reblog too!

[jezkier]

Hansa Wolfpack Daemon AU

this au has lived rent-free in my head for months. The worldbuilding has been fun and I wanted to put it somewhere. It's just a pile of silly headcanons without an actual narrative

The concept is this:

the entire hansa has wolf daemons. all of them. they are the strangest, most ragtag little pack anyone has ever seen.

This is mostly the product of me imagining a pile of wolf daemons asleep on top of each other. a whole dang pack. and Geralt's daemon is at the bottom of the pile so she and Geralt can't slink off in the middle of the night bc Geralt got too broody and wanted to be Noble and Self-Sacrificing and Not Endanger His Pals

I also think it's really funny to imagine Cahir staring into a campfire, thinking about things, and then out of the blue he says something like "Does anyone else think it's a little strange we all have wolf-shaped daemons? That seems... weirdly serendipitous." and the rest of the hansa looks at each other for a moment. and then they're all simultaneously like "uh. no? not even a little, wtf are you on about" and he drops the subject forever

Geralt's daemon is this beautiful, gloriously fluffy white wolf, BUT she is very much the smallest of their patchwork pack. She is always brushed and clean and groomed and her ears are small and kind of rounded. She's dangerously close to adorably cute. which drives both her and Geralt nuts because they're supposed to be Big Fierce Scary Monster Hunters. But it also means that sometimes kids' daemons will approach her out of curiosity in villages where they don't get visitors very often and then skitter back, terrified, when they realize she's a witcher's daemon

the rest of the hansa's daemons joke among themselves on the reg that they have to Protect The Sweet Leetle Baby At All Costs, which makes Geralt want to commit arson

Dandelion's daemon is a gangly, rangy, feral-looking, patchy brown she-wolf that he absolutely adores. He loves her so fucking much and won't hear a word said against her. Just think she hangs the moon or whatever. It drives him batshit insane whenever people confuse his perfect beautiful goddess of a daemon for Geralt's. (Because lbr, it's very easy for the average person to assume that the scruffy, flea-bitten wolf daemon belongs to the scruffy, flea-bitten witcher) In this universe, Dandelion starts up the whole White Wolf schtick bc he's sick and tired of random townspeople confusing his beautiful sweet perfect darling with Geralt's daemon when they travel together

Milva's daemon has no problem going after Geralt's daemon when she and Geralt are in a Mood. He doesn't hesitate to nip at her, or lick at her, or straight up sit on her, mostly because his tolerance for sulky brooding is much lower than Milva's. And her tolerance for that type of nonsense is already pretty damn low. Her daemon would rather get the pity parties over with ASAP and doesn't mind speeding the process along however he sees fit

He kind of freaks Geralt & his daemon out at first, bc no one's daemons (with a precious few exceptions, like Dandelion/maybe the other wolf witchers/Yen) have any interest in getting close to a witcher's daemon.

Angoulême's daemon is the biggest of the bunch. He's a scary-looking boy. All big muscle and coarse fur and gravely growling. He radiates "no NOT fuck with me." But he's also a huge goof and extremely playful in a very wolfy way when he and Angoulême let their guard down. A literal giant puppy. He takes to the little pack immediately. The first night Angouleme was with the rest of the hansa, he dropped his fat ass on top of the daemon cuddle puddle without asking and made himself comfortable. He snores when he sleeps on his back. Angouleme's pack of boyfriends in Toussaint think he's hot shit. He and Angoulême bicker pretty frequently and have a whole array of rude names they call each other. But for as often and as publicly as they fight, they rarely don't make up within a day. (He settled at a much younger age than most people)

Higher vampires didn't have daemons until after the Conjunction, and even then not all higher vampires wound up with daemons at all. Regis and his daemon don't know what to do with each other at first. Regis misses being able to fly sometimes, but he's v fond of his daemon and wouldn't trade her for anything. But she's terrifying to regular humans, and has been mistaken for a shuck or a grim when they weren't careful. She can kinda sorta change her shape a little to make herself less scary, but if she does it for too long, it gets uncomfortable for both her and Regis in an itchy sort of way

Geralt learns first hand that the idea you can identify a higher vampire by all their canon traits AND their lack of a daemon is wrong in about 95% of cases

Other daemons don't think she looks scary for some reason. They get kind of confused when their humans get freaked out by her. it's a vampire thing

Cahir's daemon is officially recorded as being "high percentage wolfdog." wolf daemons are outright banned from miliatary service bc of "a high incidence of unpredictable, disloyal conduct." It cost Cahir's family a boatload of money for the seal on that document, but the worse part is that anyone who looks at his daemon for more than 3 seconds can tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that there's no dog anywhere in her. No one seriously questions it though (at first)

(Bonus)

Yen's raven daemon tends to be a bit standoffish, but that has more to do with the fact he's a raven and ravens aren't usually interested in slobbery roughhousing. He will admit this to exactly no one, not even Yen herself, but he likes to privately imagine Geralt's daemon's long winter coat is feathers so he can pretend he's grooming her properly

[ashby-santoso]

I’m really here for some queer Harry/Ginny headcanons

Bi Ginny likes flying with the Holyhead Harpies because there are lots of other queer women there. Her mother still doesn’t really understand why it’s important, and her father is supportive but asks millions of questions...but thank Merlin, Harry just gets it. He does a bunch of the admin in the background for her, and jokes around with her team mates, and when she hears about a new sport they’re playing in the states he runs lots of the errands and makes the sign-up sheets while Ginny does all the front-line organising. She is completely psyched for running the UK’s first magical roller derby league.

NB Ginny who was always a tomboy but never thought it might mean something more, who worries Harry won’t want them, who lives under the crushing weight of misgendering every day...NB Ginny is working on getting their shit together. They cut their hair short to try and make people see them right - it doesn’t work so sometimes they still charm it long because they like the way it frames their face. They do what they fucking want thanks. (But it’s lonely.) (And they’re tired.) But since they came out, they’ve had a few old school friends get in touch unexpectedly. Luna’s no surprise, but Dean Thomas? It’s a funny way to reconnect with an ex, but Dean’s been making friends with all the queers in london and they can show Ginny around and make them feel normal again and honestly thank merlin for genderqueer exes.

Trans boy Ginny didn’t know anything about transness. He worried that the masculine aspect of himself was Tom Riddle, still inside him. It was Harry coming out to him as bi that finally made him break down, and the years between his 22nd and 25th birthdays were just a patchwork of fear and pain and loneliness…but also, ultimately, of growth. Every version of Ginny has intrusive thoughts about Tom Riddle, and in the end every version has learned to manage them, even if it was harder for some than others. But anyway, things are better now. He knows where he’s at, mostly. And Harry says his new stubble is cute. (It takes a while for anyone to remember that Arthur Weasley had 6 older brothers, and that this makes trans boy Ginny the 7th son of a 7th son...but that’s another story.)

Trans girl Harry (just like all the Harrys) hates the press, but Colin Creevey’s been moving higher and higher at the Daily Prophet and he does love to write about her. It’s hard to be annoyed when it’s all articles about her latest Quidditch successes and recaps of key moments in the second war, the text still humiliatingly enthusiastic but emblazened with THE GIRL WHO LIVED in enormous print. Ginny buys them all and pins them up in the bathroom to make her laugh. Molly Weasley has taken to knitting Harry fluffy, aggressively pink jumpers with curly H’s on them and she’s not sure how to tell Molly that she’s actually kind of a butch lesbian and her wardrobe is 90% flannel. It’s ok though, Hermione basically lives in Weasley jumpers these days because the unspeakables tend to work long hours in cold rooms with no dresscode. The two of them have this cute little butch-and-femme-best-pals routine going on and it’s fun to give her the jumpers and then borrow them back sometimes.

Ace Harry thought he couldn’t really be with anyone, and it was chewing him up inside. Ron couldn’t see what the fuss was about - “well, could you just date somebody and not have sex with them?” - which was sort of unhelping but also sort of really comforting. Hermione made him worried he might have all sorts of deadly diseases (“Google says it could be a symptom –”) until she found AVEN and figured it out. Harry cried. He and Ginny had lots of conversations, and it was painful but they said everything they needed to and then they got married. A little while later, Charlie talks to Ron who talks to Fleur who talks to Bill who talks to Ginny who encourages Harry to go to France to visit Bill. Fleur declares that she Knew Eet All Along and Bill takes him out to a grotty Parisian bar to meet a motley assortment of other aces and aros with an array of partners, friends and hangers-on. Being Bill’s friends, they are all much cooler than Harry and want to talk about things like French anarchist politics and how to look after facial piercings, but they also make asexuality jokes at every opportunity and they’re obviously keen to make him feel included. It’s…nice. He’s still mostly closeted but now he has a little fantasy of starting up an ace pick-up Quidditch team someday.

Ace Ginny takes years to figure it out. When she finally does, the really important things between her and Harry don’t change - the late-night conversations, the stupid Quidditch jokes, being there when he comes home from therapy every week. Knowing she’s ace makes her happier, calmer, more centred - but sometimes the weight of the world comes down on her shoulders, the weight of every book and film and conversation telling her there is something wrong with her. Then she doesn’t feel like touching him, doesn’t want to curl up and cuddle like she usually does - but this is nothing new for them. Harry has bad days of his own sometimes and so they already have their own little language of fist bumps instead of hugs, blown kisses and cups of tea and giving each other lots of personal space in a way that adds up to saying, I love you. Ginny starts volunteering at a wizarding LGBTQIA charity, and she doesn’t really talk about her personal life in the Daily Prophet interviews she does but she makes sure all the people who matter know where she’s at, and she makes sure everyone knows what she thinks. She supplies Harry with hundreds of shiny pamphlets to put in the back of his Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, so all his students will know it’s ok to be queer or ace or trans. The pamphlets disappear startlingly quickly, and he says it’s the only time he’s really proud to hear hero-worshipful teenagers saying Well HARRY POTTER told me or Did you know that GINNY WEASLEY says...

[imagineclaireandjamie]

I'm in dire need of a fluffy scene where Claire tries to read the lines on Jamie's palm and she ends up failing miserably.

Liv says: So this isn’t fluff, so to speak—but I hope it’s still fun! Set about 2-3 years before puir Frank the Mailman died in the Three Witches AU. No worries if you haven’t read it. This one stands alone! :)

Intersection: A Three Witches Story

Claire knew this was against coven rules. Like, totally outside the realm of acceptable witch behavior.

To dole out one’s magical talents—particularly at the county fair—was a bit manipulative (in regards to the customers), a bit sad (in regards to Claire). Still, she liked to think she was working for a kind of greater good. Ensuring the happiness of all mankind! And that was almost admirable, wasn’t it? Giving hopeful glimmers of adulthood to the stork-like teenagers, comforting the mopey singletons who trudged around, heads bent? She’d offered such assurances as:

“A new man will come into your life. A handsome one—with a huge prick! His name…I think his name begins with a ‘T’.” (This to the recent divorcee, clutching her naked ring finger like a burn. She hadn’t known what a “prick” was but was no less forthcoming with her money.)

Or this, to the bucktoothed 16-year old picking at his acne scars: “You’ll be the coolest person in college. Captain of the ultimate frisbee team!” He’d been disappointed at that one, enormous chompers clamping over his bottom lip. “Ho ho ho there, young man!” she’d said then. “Ultimate frisbee is cool where you’re going. The coolest cool.” And then he’d smiled, a patchwork of teeth and holes, which Claire hoped someone might find endearing. A nice and wholesome blind girl, maybe.

And then this, to the both of them: “For just $5 more, I can guarantee it! All you have to do is buy this magical rock and carry it with you wherever you go.” Nevermind that said magical rock was actually from Claire’s backyard. Nevermind that several of them were speckled in bird shit. Maybe some cicada guts.

But that was the thing about desperate Mortals. Metaphorically speaking, their whole lives were a succession of bird shit plops and smeared bug guts. So they didn’t even notice when it was covering their $5, not-magical rock.

“Yes please! I’ll take two!” the divorcee had cried, handing Claire a ten dollar bill. (Did she think this would bring two men into her life? Because that’s not how Claire’s bird shit rocks worked.)

“Um. Yeah. That’s sounds pretty sick,” said Beaver Bobby. “I’ll buy a rock.” He’d paid in all quarters but, hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

If her best friend Gillian were here, she would likely call this “an exploitative farce,” two terms she would’ve picked up from her beloved Word of the Day calendar.

“Claire,” she would hiss, “this is such an exploitative (Wednesday’s word) farce (last Friday’s word).” And then she’d pull out her Moleskin, update her word count with a self-satisfied tick. Her record, she claimed, was sixty words in a single morning, and Claire imagined a horrible plague descending upon their town, zombifying everyone until they could only grunt “verisimilitude.” Gillian thought an expanded vocabulary made her smarter but, really, it just increased her smart-assedness to a barely tolerable level.

Luckily, Gillian wasn’t here to offer one of her impressive synonyms because she’d bailed on their plans. If Claire could place money on it—and she couldn’t, with only $7 to her name, the very reason for this “manipulative/sad/exploitative farce”—Gillian was protesting GMO’s one county over. Perhaps arguing for the rights of beluga whales. Or, and this was the most likely, she was loitering at the Creamy Whip, breasts thrust at a very specific angle so that customers’ cones would find their shirts and not their mouths.

Psh! Now if that wasn’t an “exploitative farce” then Claire didn’t know what was. Gillian had mosquito bite boobs and a push-up bra more magical than her own powers.

But here was the thing: Claire wasn’t completely faking it. She wasn’t, so to speak, wearing a bra with three inches of padding. She could read palms, see futures unfurl, weblike, across strangers’ skins. Forks, divots, complex branches—each had such a distinct voice, that Claire had no doubt as to whether or not, say, Mr. Duncan over there would choke on a hot dog and die very suddenly. Or whether young Malva—that girl with the cotton candy and ruffled socks—would pop out a kid by the time she was 17. Claire, being a witch, knew precisely what would befall her clients by simply looking at their hands.

But of course, teenage pregnancy and death by synthetic meat logs weren’t exactly good for customer satisfaction. And so Claire would read Mr. Duncan’s palm, and she would see Mr. Duncan’s red face, gasping on a particularly troublesome bit of hot dog, but say he’d live until he was 85. A little white lie for a happy client. And a happy client meant A) money, B) a potential second visit, and thus C) more money. The $5 rocks weren’t scams, just for-profit business cards.

So she was lying, but not, y’know, totally lying. She’d deal with the prevention of hot dog-induced deaths later, when it better benefitted her monthly budget. (Because just as she wasn’t a complete liar, she wasn’t a complete asshole either.)

The fair had died down to a trickling of stragglers: mostly drunks, a couple of junkies who’d staggered into Nayawenne County for cheap-rate smack. Sighing, Claire stood to begin packing up, turned off the moody sound effects, gathered Gillian’s stack of Tarot cards (all hand-painted variations of herself: man Gillian; tree Gillian; Gillian with bigger-than-mosquito-bite boobs).

In the five hours since Claire had arrived, she’d made $120. Not a terrible turnout if one compared it to last year’s fair, when an angry swarm of Bible-thumpers had tossed her earnings into the funnel cake fryer. Sally Bain—or, as Claire called her, Sally Bane-of-Her-Existence—had rallied her troop of Jesus warriors and thrust crucifixes into Claire’s face, chanting things like, “Begone Satan!” and “This is God’s land!”

Which was kind of funny when you thought about it. If God wanted to claim ownership of Nayawenne—out of every other place in the universe—then he was pretty damn stupid.

Fortunately, Claire had suffered no further Bible-thumping, crucifix-wielding disturbances. Sally Bane-of-Her-Existence had fled town once she’d discovered her husband had fucked the organ player up in the ass. And in the church rectory, no less. (Such irony! Claire’d had absolutely nothing to do with it. Ha.)

It had been a windy afternoon, and Claire’s crystal ball was now coated in a fine layer of dust. Though it was only for decorative purposes—for customer satisfaction!—Claire decided she ought to give it a nice shine, make it look at least halfway capable of revealing visions of tomorrow.

Witch Tip #1: Unbeknownst to Mortals, crystal balls were like kisses from a true love. Which was to say, not powerful in the slightest. The most a kiss could do was give you mouth herpes. And, at its highest power, a crystal ball would fly across a room, break a window and the pinky toe of an irritating significant other. Not that Claire had experience with either situation. Certainly not the mouth herpes.

Claire ripped off a paper towel and went to grab the Windex, only to realize she’d left the Windex at home. Had, by a stroke of poor planning, only brought the herbal tonic she sometimes had to spritz into her eyes when they got a bit cloudy.

Witch Tip #2: Seeing the future had its drawbacks. Your eyes would get all crusty if you did it too much. As if your body was punishing you with goopy morning blindness. Honestly, it was pretty gross.

Well shit, Claire thought. She spat on her hand and rubbed the ball, hoping the couple beside “Whack-A-Democrat” wouldn’t think she was, like, doing something sexual to an inanimate object.

But whatever the couple thought, they were watching her, whispering behind their hands and giving her darting glances. Oh God, Claire thought, Bible-thumper radar blaring. Did Sally Bain send them? Did she organize a sabotage via prayer? Was it possible to raise an army of vengeful Baptists an entire state away? (Claire wouldn’t be surprised. She’d heard of stranger things. Done some of them herself. See also: anally-fucked organ player before he was anally fucked.)  

But no, the couple wasn’t looking at Claire with the fury of God in their eyes—but fascination. The woman, a petite but sturdy thing, was shoving her partner in Claire’s direction. Making a not-so-obvious pointing gesture, like, Her. Her! that he seemed somewhat reluctant to obey. Still, he did, and soon he was striding towards Claire, long legs stomping up clouds of dirt dust, red hair matching the synthetic blood of a “whacked” Bill Clinton.

“Are you…” the man began, looking nervously over his shoulder. The woman pursed her lips, arched her brow like, Do it, you pussy. He shoved his hands in his pockets, defeated. “Are ye done for the day, lass?”

“I was just about to pack up, but I’ve time for another reading if you’re interested.”

“Aye…” he said, completely unconvincing. “Aye, I suppose I’m interested.”

“Well then, take a seat, Mr…?”

“Fraser. Jamie.”

He was huge. Like, mega huge. Like, he could probably eat her. He was also ridiculously attractive, which meant that if he did eat her, Claire would ask him to do it again. She most definitely would not mind being inside his mouth.

“So what’s it going to be this evening, Jamie? Tarot? Crystal ball? A pal—”

“My sister says as I should have ye read my palm.”

“Oh! Splendid. Is that your sister back there?”

“Aye, that’s Jenny.” Again, he looked over his shoulder at the woman, her eyes unblinking despite the tidal wave of dust. As if to explain her behavior, he said, “We just moved here from Scotland. Only been in Nayawenne County for a few weeks now.”

“Dear me,” Claire replied, and then cringed. Attractive, mega huge men made her nervous—and sometimes her nerves made her sound like a 50’s housewife. It was a problem, she now realized, she ought to fix. “I mean, like,” she continued, “bloody hell. That’s a long way.”

“Family orders.” He shrugged. “But yer not so close to home yourself. British, by your accent.”

Claire nodded. “I’ve been here for a while now. Packed my bags when I was 20 and moved for…” She floundered for a plausible explanation. “Well. A guy.”

This, like Claire’s palm reading, was not a total lie. She had, indeed, come to America for a man: Ray, one of her classmates, had sought her input on a new enchantment in ‘04. A healing spell—Claire’s specialty —prepared from some rare fungi found in the hills of Appalachia. But Claire had about as many romantic feelings for Ray as she would a toad. Too many all-nighters spent with his warty nose and her (she liked the think) perfectly attractive nose stuck in the same spell book.

She’d stayed, though, after that. Anything—even bumfuck Ohio—was better than going back to England, where every witch wanted to hex her…

But that was a story for another time. 

This story, right here, continued with a ripple of concern across Jamie’s face. Claire regarded him, wary, but glad Gillian wasn’t here to ruin their conversation with Words of the Day, beluga whales, or push-up bras. Jamie was, at the moment, only hers.

“He’s out of the picture now,” she said. “The guy, that is.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’m just out of a break-up myself. One of the reasons I was none so unhappy about leaving Scotland.”

“Oh, well…” She looked down as if expecting two beverages to materialize, waiting to be held aloft. Instead, she grabbed her bottle of eye tonic. Lamely spritzed it into the air. “Here’s to being single then!”

“Aye, to being single,” he said, the mist falling slowly between them. Claire had never heard a proper guffaw before, but the sound that came from Jamie’s mouth was what she’d always imagined a guffaw to be. Warm, kinda strange, totally hot.

“So,” she began, getting back on track. “You said your sister put you up to this? Any specific reason for that?”

“Dinna ken,” Jamie replied, smiling a little beneath his (also) perfectly attractive nose. “I dinna question Jenny when she tells me to do something. She’s into this kind of…” He looked at the crystal ball, the cards, the rather tasteless turban sitting lopsided on Claire’s head. “Weel, whatever you call this.”

“How wonderful,” Claire said, giving Jenny another once-over. Adorable, really, when Mortals got caught up in the craft. One minute they were watching Oprah, swallowing her New Age-y drivel, and the next thing they thought they were gods. Practicing divinations, performing séances in the streets with Glade candles and getting hit by Aramark trucks. (She’d read about it in the paper once.)

“Well, I suppose we should get on with it then. Will you open your hand for me? Palm up, please.”

Jamie laid his hand on the table. It, like the rest of him, was huge.

The last man Claire went out with had also had large hands. He’d taken her to the theater and—there was really no other description for it—had swallowed her with his bulk. Sucked her face, handled her boobs like a hungry squirrel might stockpile acorns. She could still taste his buttery-saltiness on her tongue, the little bit of crunched kernel that had slid from between his teeth to the back of her throat. She’d coughed, choking, and when he’d reached to pat her back, he’d decided to take a handful of her tit instead. Just held onto it, leech-like, while the fugitive kernel slowly killed her. (Luckily, his other hand—the one not squeezing her boob—handed her the Diet Coke, and she survived.)

Jamie wouldn’t do that, she thought. His big and gentle hand would pat her back first, then return, lightly graze her tit as if by accident. It would, quite possibly, be the most artful tit-graze in all of human history.

And sitting here, trying to read Jamie’s palm, Claire realized she wanted his hand, right there, quite badly. To have his thumb teasing her nipple through her shirt, maybe traveling a bit lower. Slipping beneath the elastic waistband of her panties, to her crotch, which Louise at Louise’s would’ve waxed just for the occasion. The noises she would make would disturb the other viewers, but Jamie, with those big and gentle hands, would not muffle them.

“D’ye see anything interesting?” Jamie asked now, and the image of his hand on her tit, while fingering her in the 13th row of the Regal Cinema, vanished. Was promptly replaced by worry.

“Well, it’s funny, really…”

The true answer was: nope, nada. Nothing. Not even a flicker of Jamie wrapped around a toilet bowl, vomiting bad cheeseburger on a Saturday night. Jamie Fraser’s palm was like one of those ancient texts she and Ray had pored over, all bizarre hieroglyphs and nonsensical syntaxes. But while they had managed a crude translation, this was something entirely different. Jamie Fraser’s palm, Claire knew, would never reveal its secrets—no matter how hard she tried.

Which was why Claire swooned a little bit, and why Jamie had to reach over to keep her from toppling to the ground. His hand, though it did not brush against that sacred spot of her breast, did find the small of her back, stayed there a touch too long. Through her fog of shock, Claire thought: There’s some sort of time etiquette for this kind of thing, right? A three-second max before it veers from a purely platonic gesture into something kinda sexual?

“That bad was it?” Jamie said, smirking.

“Sorry,” Claire replied, leaning into him. She lingered over his face but found no indication that he was feeling the same way, or even thinking, Blimey! That just veered from a purely platonic gesture into some thing kind of sexual!

“Fine. I’m fine. Peachy keen as they say!” Claire cleared her throat to keep her voice from cracking. “It’s just—your hand is a bit unusual is all. I’ve not seen anything like it.”

“Is ‘unusual’ a good thing or a bad thing?”

Well, Claire thought, that depended on what exactly was being called “unusual”. Because what she was feeling was really fucking unusual, and what she was feeling was a bone-deep, stomach-fluttering ache. Like Cupid had shot his arrow straight up her ass, punctured all her gory insides and skewered her heart like a shish kebab.

“I dunno, really. I guess it means—”

“I’m special?”

“You could say that.” Was she blushing? She was blushing. “Mr. Fraser…”

“Jamie.”

“Right. Jamie. I’m afraid—God, this is a little embarrassing—I can’t actually read your palm. There’s nothing there.” She slid the fiver across the table, feeling too frazzled to consider spinning one of her lies.  “These things happen from time to time. I’m, uh, probably just tired. But you can have this back. I won’t take your money.”

“‘Nothing,’ ye said? You didn’t see a thing?”

“Afraid so. Nothing to worry about though. It’s not necessarily a bad omen…It’s—it’s hard to explain.”

For a man being given a very sincere and full refund, Jamie’s face was abnormally pale. The color had drained from his cheeks, and his hands—so incapable of leech-like grabs!—began to tremble. Two crooked fingers beat a nervous rhythm into his pant leg, and he quickly got to his feet.

“Keep the money, lass,” he said, “You can pay me back later.” And if he wasn’t in such a rush, Claire would’ve been able to confirm that she had, in fact, heard him say, “I’ll see you soon, Claire.” That her name wasn’t a tacked-on politeness, but something he’d said with the utmost tenderness.

And if Claire had been an upstanding member of the Coven Coalition— a studious practitioner of spells—she would’ve been able to hear Jenny and Jamie’s conversation from 50 feet away. Instead, she was forced to define Jenny’s smug whoop as if it were Gillian’s Word of the Day.

Jenny’s Smug Whoop (n):

1) a victory celebration, i.e. I told ye so, did I no’?!

2) proof of a mutual understanding of Witch Tip #3, i.e. A witch cannot see her own future (yet another palm-reading glitch). If, for example, Claire read a client’s palm, and her reading was filled with blips of blankness, then she had likely stumbled upon a deep intersection. Or, rather: a point in time where her future and the client’s were so intertwined—beyond family, beyond friendship—that Claire could not see the specific event due to her involvement and the aforementioned glitch.

And so there was one reason—one very momentous reason—that Claire could not read Jamie Fraser’s palm. He had a future, no doubt about it, but every second was marked by a certain curly-haired, British witch. (Refer to: a deep, ongoing intersection.) She, Claire Beauchamp—who was not at all an upstanding member of the Coven Coalition but who would certainly enjoy having those big, gentle hands in her underwear for the rest of her days—was Jamie Fraser’s future. You could, if you were of the romantic persuasion, even say they were soul mates.

The discovery of one’s soul mate has adverse effects on one’s respiratory system, and so Claire found it hard to breathe. She scrambled through her purse, found her flask, and took a hearty pull.

“I take it yer off duty, then?” said an unfamiliar voice. “Claire, is it?”

Claire looked up to find Jenny Fraser, that same smug wash of victory tugging at her eyes.

“Aye, but of course it is. I ken that already.” Jenny cleared her throat, expanded her chest like a sermonizing Sally Bain. “You’re Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, born October 20th, 1989 in Oxford, England. Parents, deceased—verra sorry for yer loss, by the way—and an uncle, missing in action. Yer also currently broke, by the looks of it, which is why yer selling wee pebbles covered in shite.”

Claire, utterly speechless, simply said, “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” through a mouthful of gin.

“Christ, to be sure. Sadly, Mr. FDR is a bit worse for wear. Got a proper skelping back there.”

Claire looked around wildly and found Jamie watching them—albeit, still visibly flustered—by the freshly bludgeoned Roosevelt.

“Did the Coalition send you?” she asked, frantic. “Am I in trouble? Because…Look! I’ll stop selling the bird shit rocks, all right? Just please don’t report me.”

Jenny shook her head, laughing.

“Nay, it’s nothing like that. It’s only—weel, it appears you’ve just confirmed something I’ve suspected for some time now. About you and my brother.”

Witch Tip #4: Magical beings—witches, wizards, fairies, vampires, etc. etc.—are everywhere. The old woman throwing Reese’s Pieces at the ducks could very well be a shapeshifter. Your random client at the county fair could have a witch for a sister.

“If you’re referring to how I couldn’t read Jamie’s palm, then yeah, I—”

But Jenny interrupted, happily offered her hand for shake.

“I’d say that settles it,” she said. “If yer going to make a lovesick fool of my brother, then I think we should be friends, aye?”