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rosequartzwriting · 3 years

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The Agent and Her Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader

Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.

Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it.

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

Gif by @cumberbatchlives

Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent

When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.

But you knew you would not be able to rest.

Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."

You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"

Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.

"Decoding, seriously?"

Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."

"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

You glared at him.

"Come on, you got this."

You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."

"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."

You were already stressed.

"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."

After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.

When you got there, sure enough, there he was.

"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."

You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.

Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.

He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.

Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.

"Don't mention it."

"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.

Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."

"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.

"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.

"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."

"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.

You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.

You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.

Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.

But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.

Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.

Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.

This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.

Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.

He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.

"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.

He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.

You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."

He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."

"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.

He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.

Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.

During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.

You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.

While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.

"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.

"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.

"Have anything else to do?" He asked.

"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.

"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"

"I'd like that."

You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.

It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.

"I'm glad Tony threw that party."

You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.

When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.

Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."

A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.

It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?

You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.

"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.

Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.

With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.

"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.

"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.

As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.

You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.

After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.

"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.

"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.

You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.

Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."

You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."

The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.

You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.

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maximons · 3 years

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Into The Sanctum

Chapter Summary: Doctor Strange brings Y/n into the sanctum as he explains to her the situation at hand. However, the introductions to the team don’t go very smoothly.

Word Count: 3,021

A/N: Here we are with chapter 2! This one is a lot shorter than the first, and honestly the rest of the chapters will likely be around this length lol Hope you enjoy!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“Y/n Fenton. 26 years old, acquired her abilities in 2019 after a lab accident.” Wong started explaining as he brought up multiple images and video clips of you throughout the years, using his magic. “Known abilities; Able to switch between human and ghost form at will, Invisibility, Intangibility, Flight, Able to overshadow other humans, Super Strength and Speed, Can summon ghost energy in a ‘ghost ray’, and Cryokinesis.” The sorcerer finished, leaving everyone in a moment of silence, not sure how to proceed after all that information.

“Whoa, that’s awesome.” Peter said in awe, but no-one else shared his excitement.

“We’re going to recruit a ghost...to fight other ghosts?” Loki was the first to ask.

“Fight fire with fire and all that.” Strange responded.

“How do we know we can trust her? Isn’t she one of them?”

“Yes, but she’s also human. Besides, just because she’s a ghost, doesn’t mean she’s automatically bad.” Wanda now piped up. “And you’re one to talk, Loki. Aren’t you technically a Frost Giant?”

“Yes I am, and look how well I turned out. Not exactly a good sales pitch.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Strange interrupted. “This isn’t up for debate. The ghost realm is bleeding into our world more and more every minute, and Fenton is our best shot.” Strange slipped on his sling ring and began opening a portal. “I’m going to talk to her.” Before anyone could respond, Strange stepped through, portal closing behind him.

Everyone stood in silence for a moment, before Peter spoke up. “C’mon, I can’t be the only one who thinks this is cool.”

“The very fabric of our reality being at risk and our world being overtaken by ghosts is ‘cool’ to you, Peter?” Wong asked, causing Peter to scratch the back of his neck shyly.

“Well, when you put it like that...”

Amity Park

You and Tucker were walking down the street, heading to your favorite donut shop. You stared at your phone as you walked, not really worried about bumping into anyone or anything as you used your powers to subtlety phase through them.

“Hear anything?” Tucker asked and you shook your head.

“No, haven’t heard in hours now. She’s really mad.”

“Well, you did manage to almost get yourself killed the other day.”

“I’ve been doing this for years now, I know what I’m doing. Besides, I’m already literally half dead.”

“Not the point.” Tucker sighs. “C’mon, you’ve been dating her for over a year, and have been best friends for even longer. You should know her by now. She’s scared.”

“I’m not faulting her for being scared, but I can’t keep going through fight after fight with her for just doing my job.”

“Is it really your job though?” Tucker shrugged, causing you to stop in your tracks. Him following a second later. “I’m just saying, there are a bunch of heroes back now after the blip. It wouldn’t kill you to take a few days off.”

“They can’t do what I do. And they don’t know what we know.”

“You don’t gotta be all cryptic” Tucker laughed and you couldn’t help but chuckle along.

“Yeah, maybe not.” You shrugged. “I don’t know though, we’re the only ones who really know how to deal with these ghosts. I love helping people, but I’m tired of this too sometimes. I’d love to be able to leave Amity Park, really start my life, but...I can’t. All the ghosts come from here, and I gotta do my best to keep it that way.”

Tucker opened his mouth to form a response, but before he could, a bright orange light appeared. The light began to form into a portal and a man with white and black hair, dressed head to toe in blue robes and a read cape, appeared.

“Y/n Fenton?” He asked, which took you and Tucker aback. You looked to your best friend before looking back at the man.

“Uh, who’s asking?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Doctor Stephen Strange, and-”

“Wait, that’s you?” You interrupted, eyes wide.

“Yes? I assume you’ve heard of me then?”

Your eyes hardened at this. You knew the name Dr. Strange a little too well. He, along with Iron Man, had been part of the reason behind the death of your parents, having been part of that fateful fight in New York. You knew logically that this man didn’t go out of his way to kill your parents, and that he likely didn’t start that fight, but still. You didn’t appreciate the reminder.

“Yeah. I have.”

Strange noticed the shift in your tone and tilted his head in confusion. You two stood in a stand off for a few moments before Tucker coughed beside you.

“Sorry, but uh, you’re one of the Avengers right?” He asked as he started to fanboy.

“I guess you can say I was, though they aren’t really around anymore.”

“Still, that’s so cool! Hey, did you know Iron Man before he-”

“What do you want?” You interrupted as you crossed your arms, eyes still glaring at the wizard.

Strange regained his composure as he continued. “I need you to come with me. It’s quite literally a matter of life or death.”

Your hard glare faded and in turn you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Ghosts are pouring into our world, their reach is now far outside of Amity Park.” Your eyes widened when the wizard said this. You figured you shouldn’t be surprised that Strange knew of this, but you really weren’t sure how to react. “And I know you’re a little more than familiar about ghosts...considering your biology.” Now you really didn’t know how to react. You dropped your arms as you tilted your head towards Tucker.

“So much for that day off.”

Sanctum Santorum

Wanda stepped out of the room as the back and forth between the boys started. She needed a moment to herself to think, she needed air. She made her way to the rooftop and leaned on the edge, looking over the city.

She knew that her life would always entail having to deal with potential world ending threats. It was that way when she was an Avenger, and even more so now after becoming the Scarlet Witch. It got tiring, but she wouldn’t give up the responsibility. Not after Westview. Besides, it beat the alternative that Agatha had predicted for her, destroying the world.

But damn, a break would be nice.

Ghosts? Seriously? She guessed that she really shouldn’t be surprised that they exist, over the last year she’s seen some crazy stuff, but ghosts seemed like a scary concept. And not in a ‘Halloween spooky’ kind of way, it was more of a fear of the unknown. If all ghosts had the same capabilities as the Fenton girl had, she had no idea how she would be able to combat that.

Speaking of the Fenton girl, she couldn’t help but be intrigued. From what she’s seen and heard, the girl knew what she was doing, so she failed to see why she and the rest of the team had to get involved. Still, she figured that they should do whatever they could to help stop this threat.

She also agreed with Peter in that she was ‘awesome’, but she wasn’t about to voice that.

She took a deep breath as she bowed her head, calming her nerves. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it could be easily fixed and they could all get back to their lives quickly. She knew that was unrealistic, but she had to have a sliver of hope every now and again or she’d go insane.

“Wanda!” She heard Peter’s voice in her head, way too loudly. She cringed as she held her head.

“Peter, we’ve talked about this. You don’t need to be so loud.”

“Sorry, Wanda. Doctor Strange told me to tell you to come back down. Y/n is here.”

“Okay, thank you Peter.” She felt the boy’s presence leave her mind as she picked her head up. She shook her head, ridding herself of the pain while preparing herself as she headed downstairs.

A Few Moments Before

The telltale orange sparks started forming in the main hall of the Sanctum. Soon after, a portal opened and Strange had stepped out, but this time was followed by two people. A woman who was looking around in a mix of confusion and awe, and a man who seemed to be bursting with excitement.

“Whoa! What was that!? That was so cool!” The man turned to the woman in excitement. “Was that magic!?”

“Yeah Tuck, but we gotta be cool here, okay?” The woman told ‘Tuck’ in a hushed whisper.

“Right, sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I had the same reaction.” Peter piped up with a smile. He walked over to the two new figures, hand stretched out. “I’m Peter Parker.”

“Tucker Foley.” Tucker’s smile reappeared as he shook the boy’s hand excitedly.

Peter turned to the woman standing next to him. “And you’re Y/n Fenton, right?” You chuckled as you grabbed Peter’s hand, shaking it as well.

“I guess I’m famous around here.”

“We just found out about your existence an hour ago, but I suppose you can call it fame.” Loki piped up, and you turned to him. Eyes widening a second later.

“Holy shit! Aren’t you the guy who led the alien invasion in New York?”

“That was over ten years ago, darling, let’s leave the past in the past.” Loki shrugged. “Besides, I’m doing the whole ‘hero’ thing now.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“It varies.”

“Okay that’s enough for the introductions, now-” Strange started before Peter cut him off.

“Wait, what about Wanda?”

“Get her down here while I catch our new guests up.” Peter nodded as he began to call to Wanda with his mind. “Now, Y/n, you’ve done a lot of good over the last few years. Keeping the ghostly threat contained to Amity Park while the rest of the world remains none the wiser is quite impressive.”

“Aw, thanks.” You smirked with a shrug.

“However, those efforts might have only delayed this.” Before you could ask what the wizard was talking about, he brought up an illusion showing ghosts starting to spill through tears that were seemingly in mid air. “The Ghost Realm is starting to tear into our own.”

“Wait, the what?” You asked, causing Strange to falter slightly.

“The Ghost Realm?” He responded with a raise of his brow.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Um, where all of the ghosts are coming from? The source of your powers? You’ve been dealing with it for years-”

“Oh!” You shouted, finally realizing. “Yeah, we’ve been calling that the Ghost Zone.” You started to chuckle, Tucker joining, but everyone else remained silent for a moment.

“Right...” Strange proceeded. “Well the ‘Ghost Zone’ is starting to become a problem everywhere. We need your help.”

You coughed as you regained your composure, turning serious. “How is this even possible?”

“We were hoping you knew.”

“Look, I might know a lot about the Ghost Zone, but I don’t know everything. I’ve kinda just been dealing with it as it came for the last five years.”

“Well, it looks like you’re about to get a lot more proficient.” Loki said. Before Y/n could respond though, a new presence entered the room.

Wanda walked into the main hall where she found everyone in a heated discussion. She walked in further when she finally spotted the two new faces. A nerdy looking man, and the woman who she recognized as Y/n Fenton. She took a moment to observe her. She was in casual clothing, a white t-shirt covered with a red sweat jacket with jeans and red sneakers. A brown messenger bag slung across her body, indicating that she was on her way somewhere before she was brought here.

Wanda had only really seen Y/n in her Phantom form, since that was the only relevant part of her that they needed to know at the time, but she couldn’t help but think that the human side was captivating as well.

Wait a minute, what?

No, she wasn’t supposed to be looking at other people like this. Not after Vision. She never even thought someone else could turn her head again for one, but she also felt like she was betraying Vision and all they had by even simply staring at someone else for too long.

She coughed, as she tried to get rid of those thoughts, but in doing so she garnered the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Oh, good. Y/n, this is the Scarlet Witch. Otherwise known as Wanda Maximoff.” Strange had introduced her, and she gave a small smile along with a shy wave in response.

You, however, did not have the same welcoming response. You straightened up as your face tightened, eyes widening slightly. You recognized that name. “Wanda Maximoff...as in ‘Westview’ Wanda Maximoff?” You asked the room, however your eyes never left Wanda, who’s face now dropped.

The room stood in silence for a moment before Peter spoke up. “Yeah, um, we don’t really bring that up.”

“Yeah? Well, I am.” Before anyone could register what was happening, You changed into Phantom and blasted a powerful ghost ray towards Wanda.

The blast hit her square on, knocking her to the ground. The witch shook the attack off quickly as she stood up. The awe that she had previously while staring at you was now replaced with anger, as she shifted from her current outfit into the Scarlet Witch. Hands and eyes glowing red, as your own hands and eyes glowed green. The two women stared each other down as the men stared in varying states of shock.

Tucker was the only one who seemed to know what was going on as he brought his hand up and grabbed the bridge of his nose. “Oh man.”

“What the hell was that for!?” Wanda asked, almost shouting in anger. Your face didn’t waver however. You gritted the next words out, as you were also seething in anger.

“My sister was there.”

Everyone stood in silence for a few moments after the revelation, not sure how to continue. Wanda remained standing, but the red faded from her eyes and hands. Her gaze fell downwards for a moment as she straightened up. After no-one spoke for several moments, you continued. “I hope your little sitcom fantasy was worth it, cause Jazz is still going to therapy because of you.” You scoffed. “You didn’t even have the decency to give her a speaking part. Just one of your little extras.”

Wanda sighed as tears started to spring to her eyes at the reminder. She shifted back into her normal clothing. “Look, I really am sorry for the pain I caused. I truly didn’t know at the time.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You scoffed before turning to address the rest of the room. “She’s a fucking terrorist. Actually, now that I think about it, what the hell am I doing in a room with all of you!?”

You looked around briefly before pointing at Loki harshly. “You’re a fucking psychopath who almost took over the world!” Loki shot his hands up in surrender as you turned to point at Strange next.

“You were part of the fight in New York that killed my parents!” Strange’s eyes widened slightly at the revelation, but he didn’t get to say anything as you turned to Wong.

“I know you were there too!” You finished by landing on Peter.

“And you-” You cut yourself off as you realized you didn’t have anything against the kid. Still, you were stubborn and too into your rant to stop there. “I actually don’t know anything about you, but I’m sure you’re no good if you’re hanging around these freaks!”

“We’re the freaks?” Loki asked incredulously, as he couldn’t help himself. “Sweetheart, you’re basically dead.”

“Better being dead than a fucking murderer.” You seethed out. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t care. My responsibility is to my home and to those I love, that’s it. I never signed up for this life, and even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t wanna work with any of you.” You began to float and move over to Tucker, who had been watching the whole exchange in silence. You grabbed his arm, taking you up with you. “Good luck, sounds like you’re gonna need it. I’m out of here.”

With that you began to fly up, Tucker in your arms. You sped up heading towards the ceiling. You were about to go intangible to phase out of the building, when suddenly, your ghost ring appeared around your waist and separated, turning you back into a human.

Your eyes widened as you and Tucker began to plummet back to the floor, but before you both hit it, red wisps surrounded you both, breaking the fall. They didn’t last long though, as a second later the disappeared, making you both hit the ground harshly. Tucker rubbed his arm as you brought your hands up to look at them, wondering what happened.

“What the hell was that!?” You asked as you looked back up to the people in the room.

“I went into your mind and triggered your transformation.” Wanda answered, and you could’ve sworn you saw a slight smirk on her face. Your face hardened once again.

“Stay the hell out of my head.”

“Alright, enough!” Strange shouted, finally putting an end to this. “Y/n, I understand your hesitation. I do. You don’t have to like us, you don’t even have to trust us, but believe me when I say we cannot do this without you. You may be angry at the world, hell all of us are, but we need you to put that aside.”

You stood up, offering a helping hand to Tucker, but your gaze remained on Strange. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t ignore the severity of the situation. No matter how much you wanted to. You hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Okay. So what do we do now?”

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff

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lady-literature · 3 years

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I rewrite Sky High

okay so, disclaimer: sky high was actually pretty damn good for it’s time and a lot of the plot twists/tropes used in it were still just starting out and not as commonplace as they are today. so 10/10 really good movie.

Also as i was writing this, it turned into half analysis of what’s already in the movie and half things I would change about the movie so,,, yeah. enjoy!

***

So the point about Sky High is that and the way the school and hero society as a whole works, is that you, as the audience, are supposed to look at it and know that it’s a flawed system. We’re supposed to see it as an injustice that kids are sorted into hero or sidekick- Sorry, I mean ‘Hero Support,’ on your first day of school based on something you can’t even control.

(This movie was my hero academia-ing it up before it was cool.)

Anyway, the movie calls a lot of attention to it in the beginning, but then doesn't actually give it the resolution it deserves in the end. Which, not cool guys.

The Hero/Sidekick debacle is, on the whole, a very thinly veiled metaphor for the problems minorities face. Specifically, those of the alphabet mafia, or LGBTQ, as we’re more commonly known.

There are a lot of examples for this so I’ll speed through the big ones real quick:

Will’s nerves regarding not having attraction to girls superpowers?

The way he tries to fake having an attraction to girls superpowers to get approval from his dad?

Being literally outed in front of his whole class (by someone named Boomer no less) and then immediately trying to hide it from his parents as long as possible?

The constant references to being a ‘late bloomer’. Doesn’t it remind you of the common phrases: ‘it’s just a phase’ or ‘don’t worry. You’ll start liking [opposite gender] eventually.’ ?

The scene in the kitchen, right after Will introduces the Sidekick Squad (and yes, that is what I’ll be referring to them as for the rest of this essay tumblr post). Will is so obviously trying to gauge how his dad is going to take his friends being sidekicks and also him being a sidekick. I just, this is so blatantly a coming out scene? How does anybody not see it as that?

(also the dad talking so offhandedly about bigotry and the hatred his own father had for sidekicks??? Who else has been there?)

Will telling his dad that he doesn’t care, that he’s proud of being gay to be a sidekick is just,,, *chef’s kiss*

With all of this backing behind Will and him growing into not being ashamed of his lack of powers, My first change would be that Will does not, in fact receive his father’s super strength. It’s just such a cop out! The movie had all this amazing build up, and this brilliant metaphor it could have used and, instead, they threw it all away.

The sudden acquisition of powers and immediate acceptance by his peers, feels too close to someone being ‘fixed’. That Will wasn’t good enough the way he was and had to be better, had to be his father in order to be good enough.

So, no. Will remains powerless.

Instead of the revelation of ‘he’s strong’, we get to let the Sidekick Squad shine.

Lash and Speed still cause a fight between Warren and Will, but when Will is under the table, the sidekicks actually do something.

Will knocks the table over (not, like, lifting Warren up but something closer to pushing him off. I mean, even I could push upwards from underneath a table fast enough that if someone is standing on it, they’d lose their balance and fall to the ground) and that starts things.

The Sidekick Squad all grab forgotten lunch trays or cartons of milk or something and throw it at Warren. It isn’t long then that the whole scene devolves into a food fight (Zach, at least, does not have good aim and probably hits a bystander accidentally, drawing more people in, until the whole cafeteria is involved.) The fight turns into something more playful, but still with that bit of an undertone of trying to actually hurt each other.

Ethan melts at one point and (accidentally) causes Warren to slip and land on his back, Magenta probably punches someone (not Warren) and Zach is just mouthing off to anybody who gets close enough. Near the end, right before Principal Powers shows up, Layla finally gets the right idea and just fire extinguishes the shit out of Warren.

(Side note here: I am very much also nixing the Layla crushes on Will plotline. I love best friends to lovers just as much as the next person but… no. Let kids see boy/girl friendships!

Instead, I will be inserting a Layla/Warren love story and you can consider this the first scene on the road for that.)

Anyway, the whole Sidekick Squad plus Warren ends up in the detention room and all of them are covered in food. Right after Principal Powers leaves, the Sidekick Squad is immediately talking excitedly to each other about how cool they just were and what they did. Basically it’s very wholesome and they’re all hyping each other up and then one of them, Layla or Will, excitedly turns to Warren and goes, ‘and that thing you did with the fireballs? God! I don’t think Lash is going to have any eyebrows for a month’ and the tension between them all but drops.

Warren, of course, tries to push them away and not get involved with their ridiculousness, but the Sidekick Squad is stubborn and by the end of detention, everyone but Warren is in agreement that he’s a part of the Squad now. They will not leave him alone. They also start hanging out at the Paper Lantern all the time just to annoy/make fun of him in that loving way friends do.

(I just want Warren to be a part of the Squad guys. Will calls him his best friend at the end but what did the movie actually do to show they were friends? Nothing, that’s what. I want that fixed.)

So the cafeteria fight boosts the whole Squad’s reputation, right? People think those sidekicks are pretty cool, and they get their fifteen minutes of fame. Only… Will gets a little hooked on the feeling of being popular. He doesn’t want to be a capital-h Hero or anything! But, well… he’d be lying if he didn’t like people thinking he was cool.

The others don’t really care all that much about being cool, but Will does. He hates that he does but what is he supposed to do? He can’t change how he feels. So he starts trying to make himself more popular and sometimes tries dragging his friends into stupid schemes.

And then enter stage right, one Gwen Grayson.

I prefer Gwen being Royal Pain’s daughter, actually. A girl who would’ve had no stock in this fight but her mother, who is sickly and weak and survives mostly because her daughter takes care of her, practically brainwashes Gwen to do her bidding.

Gwen is a minion here, and also, perhaps, a victim.

At first, she follows her mom’s orders and charms Will into dating her. She also feeds into his desire to gain popularity but can’t, in this world, break him from his friends. Actually, Will brings Gwen along to the Sidekick Squad hangouts and, slowly, she becomes a part of the group too.

She starts to doubt her mother. Starts to care for Will and the Squad.

She throws the party, and the Squad is all invited (trying to break them up isn’t conducive to the Plan her mother has anyway and wouldn’t work besides) but she lures Will away to make out and… other things, and he brings her to the Sanctum for privacy just like before. She still steals the pacifier (or whatever death ray equivalent you want idk) but she and Will don’t break up at the end of the night.

It’s not actually until two days later, right before the dance is going to start, does Gwen decide she can’t stand back and let this happen anymore. She spills the whole plot and her betrayal to Will when he comes to pick her up for the dance. She’s crying and apologizing and basically expecting to be hated forever by the only people she thinks ever actually liked her.

And, well. Will is furious at her for lying but there’s more important things to deal with at the moment. They’ll talk more about this and he’ll be angry, but that’s all going to be later. Right now they have a school to save so he grabs her hand and starts running to warn the rest of their friends.

Things happen mostly as canon from that point with minor changes.

It’s Warren who pulls Layla into a kiss before they all split off into groups, telling her to kick ass and stay safe before sprinting off after Speed. There have been scenes throughout the movie where the two are very obviously getting closer and are into each other. And then, before the dance, while Gwen and Will we’re technically going as a couple, the whole Squad was going as a group.

When Warren and Layla saw each other all dolled up, it’s very cliché. Warren says she looks nice and Layla visibly gulps at his outfit of a button down and suit pants, sleeves rolled up to his elbows (because homeboy does not wear a full tux you can fight me on this).

And also, Will doesn’t fight Royal Pain by himself. Instead, Gwen is there with him and they don’t fight with super strength. Gwen’s been helping Will build an arsenal of gadgets a la Batman and the two face off against her mom together, Gwen with her powers, and Will acting as half support and half as a watered-down Batman who still needs some more training before he’s totally polished.

The school falls from the sky, but Gwen buys them time by keeping the anti gravs working through sheer force of will, while Will holds off her mom from attacking her while she’s vulnerable and concentrating. Magenta eventually kills the EMP or whatever it was, and the day is saved.

Gwen passes out, cause ~drama~ but she ends up okay so don’t worry. She’s just exhausted.

The sidekicks get their recognition and then immediately bounce because dances suck and they all agree that they should go to the Paper Lantern instead to celebrate cause they’re tired, alright? Saving the day is hard.

So it’s all of them, a little battered and bruised and exhausted, crowded into this corner booth and laughing and being kids. The camera does it’s fade to comic book page thing, and the narration is something more along the lines of:

“Royal Pain and her cronies got locked away. Gwen and I talked things out, and she’s getting help for all the stuff her mom did to her. We’re taking things slow in the meantime.

The school is undergoing a lot of changes to the curriculum and getting rid of the whole ‘hero/sidekick’ divisions. (Mostly at the urging of my parents… and Layla). Next year is going to look a lot different, I think.

But it’ll be a good different, just like we are. None of us were what we were expected to be, and, I think, we’re going to keep defying expectations. There’s a whole world out there that needs changing.

And I can’t think of a better group of friends to do it with.”

THE END

(just give me found family saves the day by being themselves rather than somebody else, give me them saving the day because they care about each other, give me them fighting for what’s right and fixing things. please i am b e g g i n g.)

***

Additional nitpicks that are small but Very Important to Me

Coach Boomer is still called coach Boomer because there is no way I am missing out on the ‘okay, boomer’ jokes

Layla stays like Layla, but i’d like for the movie to stop trying to make her seem annoying for her beliefs or like she’s wrong to be so vocal about them. Her caring about things that are wrong ends up as the butt of too many jokes and i… do not like that.

Why so many dad/son scenes? Why this janky imbalance parenting dynamic between the Strongholds. Knock that shit off. I want happy functional family thank you very much

Mr Boy and the mad scientist are very obviously in a relationship

Wait, actually: mr boy, mad scientist and Boomer are al in a poly relationship and are ridiculous about it

I’d like to see more of the sidekick classes going over like, ‘the boring’ parts of the job, and teaching the kids how to deal with the aftermath of the heroes heroics, just to hammer in the fact that the system is fucked up and that it’s messed up that the heroes get all the recognition while the sidekicks are left to clean up the mess

Use actual 14 year old actors? These kids look like seniors.

Or, if you want more ‘mature’ characters make it so sky high is like,,, a finishing school or smth. Something kids 16 and over go to.

(What the fuck kind of parent thinks that their freshman child dating a senior is a good idea?? An almost adult coming onto a fourteen year old??? Are you trying to make Will’s parents (particularly the dad) seem like irresponsible assholes??)

Gwen is, at most, a year above Will in this rewrite, kay?

#my typewriter #sky high #disney #warren peace #superheroes #lgbt

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Of Sorcerers and Spiderwebs Chapter Four: Hopeless

Y/N L/N is a Master of the Mystic Arts, trained by Doctor Strange himself. When she first meets Peter Parker as they fight side by side against Thanos, she isn’t expecting for their brief partnership to blossom into a love that could last a lifetime.

previous / series masterlist / next

After realizing that you’re in love with Peter Parker, it feels even harder to drag yourself out of bed to head to school the next morning. Even the sight of him walking towards you from across the crowded hallways of Midtown hurts- you know that no matter how close the two of you become, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend.

In fact, just the simple act of seeing him confirms that you truly love him. You’re not sure how you didn’t realize it before, but it’s glaringly obvious now. When the two of you are paired together for some partner activity in class, you’re able to laugh and smile with him as if you’ve known him your entire life.

That’s the easiest thing about Peter- with him, you’re able to just live and be whoever you want to be. There aren’t any expectations with him- no rules or assumptions or anything. He doesn’t presume you to be anything more than yourself. You’re not sure anyone’s made you feel like that in a long time.

However, things aren’t exactly perfect. Now that you’re actually paying attention to how you feel about Peter, you’re also noticing how Peter feels about other people. Specifically, how he feels about one of his closest friends, MJ. Case in point: whatever’s going on with them during this exact lunch one sunny afternoon at Midtown.

Although technically there are four of you at the lunch table, Peter’s clearly centered around MJ and MJ alone. He’s sitting next to her, leaning over to face her in a way that shuts out everything else around him. They’re engaged in some deep conversation about the ethics of neuroscience, something that you happen to know a lot about thanks to Stephen and that you could easily debate along with them. However, you already tried to enter the conversation and were talked over more than a few times, so you’ve given that up.

You can’t exactly blame Peter for being wrapped up in MJ. She’s practically perfect for him- she supports him being Spider-Man, she knows enough about his favorite topics to have discussions like the one they’re having now, and they both have the perfect blend of shy and talkative that makes them equals. The only problem is that she’s not you.

The worst part is that Peter is clearly in love with her. Here’s the thing- nobody looks at a girl the way Peter is looking at MJ right now, with that stupid soft smile on his face as she talks and that unnameable expression his eyes, without being in love. You suppose that’s why it hurts you so much to see him. It shouldn’t, of course, Peter’s known MJ for far longer than he’s known you and you just arrived at Midtown a few months ago. Yet your heart still feels a painful twinge every time you glance their way.

“You good, Y/N?”

You’re broken out of your trance when Ned speaks to you. Blinking once to clear your head, you turn to him. “Yeah, I’m just, uh, considering my plans for the future. I’ve heard about this really cool opportunity within the different international Sanctums to go out in search of people who could potentially become Masters of the Mystic Arts to monitor them and offer aid if they need it.”

What you’re talking about isn’t a lie- you have heard about this program, and it’s been simmering away in the back of your mind for quite some time. You had assumed that you weren’t going to act on it, as your life was going very well over in New York, but for once you might be convinced to move away as a nomad for the sorcerers.

Ned looks impressed. “That does sound cool. So you’d basically get to vacation around the world in the name of the Sanctums?” You incline your head, confirming his words. “That’s the thing- it sounds amazing. The only thing is, I’d have to apply and I don’t know if they’ll let me in or not. And, even if they do let me in, I’m just wondering if I would be able to leave all of this behind. It feels like I just got here.”

Ned nods. “I mean, I don’t really know what to tell you. Wizards-I mean, sorcerers, kind of have a priority of coolness over everything else. I guess you just have to ask yourself what you’d be giving up by leaving, and if you think the pros of the trip would outweigh the cons.”

You look at him, somewhat surprised. “That’s actually really good advice. Thanks, Ned.” The boy smiles. “Hey, if I can’t be a superhero I can at least give out super-good talks.” The two of you dissolve in laughter, but your smile fades slightly when you realize Peter hasn’t even heard you at all. Would he care if you left?

The next day, you slump down into your seat at the lunch table with a glower that could rival the stormy weather outside. Ned raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Well, I didn’t think you could look even more depressed than yesterday, but I guess I was wrong. What, did Sorcerers Worldwide not let you into their program?”

You point a finger at him in agreement. “I showed up and asked if I could go through with their program. I showed them everything I could do, which is more than the average adult at the Sanctum. Even with that, they still won’t let me go. They kept saying something about how I should be finishing school before I go traipsing around the globe. That doesn’t even make sense- they pulled me out of my freshman and sophomore years so they could train me at Kamar-Taj, why is it not okay now?”

Across the table from you, Peter looks stunned. “Wait, what do you mean? You were going to leave Midtown for some errand of the sorcerers?” You nod, staring up at the ceiling bleakly. “It was going to be so cool, too. But no, I have to wait until I’m out of high school or college or whenever they run out of excuses.”

Peter leans forward, and you realize for the first time that he actually seems cross, almost hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you liked it here.” You can’t help but feel defensive at his questioning. “I did. Yesterday, at lunch. I talked about it right here. I guess you weren't paying attention. Besides, I do like Midtown, but are you telling me you’d rather go to high school than travel the world?”

Peter scoffs. “Yeah, it would be fun to leave for a vacation or a weekend trip. You just got here, do you really not care about all of us enough to leave it all behind for some jaunt around the world?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why are you so upset? I just said that I wouldn’t be going anyway. And besides, I do care about everyone here, which is why I talked about the possibility of me going on this trip yesterday to all of you. I suppose you just weren’t listening.”

Peter’s opening his mouth, presumably to deliver a no doubt intense remark, but Ned places his hands in between the two of you, interrupting him. “You know what, I think what Peter means is that we’d all be sad to see you go, Y/N. We’re sorry that you didn’t get into your program, but at least you still have us, right?”

You tilt your head towards Ned, pointedly ignoring Peter. “Thank you, Ned. I absolutely agree. Midtown is, and will always be, an amazing school with amazing people and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” You and Ned continue to have a conversation in the same forced calm voices, and eventually Peter joins in. MJ arrives later, and joins in the chatter as well, although she does raise her eyebrows at the tension clearly brewing between you and Peter.

When lunch ends, the four of you are heading back to your classroom when you suddenly stop moving. Your friends stop as well, looking back at you in confusion. “Everything alright, Y/N?” MJ asks, but you just shake your head fervently. “Everything is very much not alright. It’s like I can sense something strange in the school. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t human and it isn’t going away.”

Your friends walk back up to you. “Can you tell us anything else about it?” Ned questions. You try and latch onto the sudden feeling, but you can’t sense anything else. “I think I’m going to have to use my astral form to check it out. Can you make sure nobody notices what I’m doing?” Your friends nod their assent, and huddle up around you to hide you from view. If anyone happens to walk by, they’ll just see a group of students clustered around a locker.

You fling your shoulders back, closing your eyes and opening them once more to find yourself in your astral form, glowing and weightless just like normal. As you head off down the hallway in search of whatever malevolent entity is creeping around the school, you glance once over your shoulder and can’t help but feel slightly better when you notice that Peter is the first one to reach out and catch you, despite everything that just happened.

Brushing away thoughts of Peter and the concern clearly written across his face at the thought of you heading into danger, you continue on down the hallways. You quickly check classrooms and halls of lockers, and you notice that the strange feeling of darkness is emanating from a room down a few flights of stairs. The basement.

Of course it had to be the basement, the darkest, coldest, most formidable place in the whole school. Why couldn’t creepy things just hide in plain sight for once? Why the basement? You shudder briefly, then force yourself down through the floor until you’re standing just outside the basement door. You step forward, walking through the door, and suppress a silent scream when you see what’s inside.

When you suddenly jerk back to life in Peter’s arms, your friends look at you with startled eyes. “What is it? What did you see?” All you can do is clasp on to Peter, who’s still holding you tight. “Something is coming. Something bad.”

tag list: @dude-were-getting-the-band-back @xroselights @idiotic--punk

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

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Sub Rosa [80]

ix. what you take with you

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, fighting, language.

Summary: Two unexpected people join you in your captivity.

a/n: NUMBER 80??!! HOW DO WE ONLY HAVE 20 LEFT???? LIKE W H A T? also this is one of my favorite chapters so I’m excited to share it with you!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

Time passes in the cave slowly as you wait for something to happen. Anything really. But your captivity is largely uneventful after your initial escape. Most of the Children of Gabriel ignore you as they go past, moving in and out of the cave, and only once does one of them interact with you, a few hours into your captivity. She grabs your head and tugs it forward, checking for a mind drive scar, and when she finds none she informs the others and leaves you alone again.

Sometime after dark, something finally starts to happen.

There’s a commotion in the cave, and people rush past you and towards the door, some of them talking about new hostages as they go. You stand, moving as close to the door as you can, eyes trained on it as you await the arrival of whoever else they found. You finally see movement towards the entrance to the cave, and you watch two people being led inside, bags over their heads. You feel your heartbeat quicken, wondering if you know who they are, but you don't have to wonder for long because the taller of the two figures mutters, “I need to see Gabriel.”

You feel a rush of relief, and worry, at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, and you call out, “Bellamy?”

He calls your name back, and then the bag is pulled off his head, the two of you looking at each other in shock. Bellamy’s face drops when he sees the blood smeared on your face, and you shake your head a little trying to let him know that it’s nothing to worry about. You tug against your chains, trying to reach him, and he launches himself towards you, slipping from his captors grip. He rushes across the cave to you, his arms wrapping around you for half a second before he is yanked away and you’re rewarded with a hard slap. You let out a sound of pain, groaning at the familiar metallic taste washing over your tongue, and you turn and spit the blood from your mouth, before looking up with a glare, eyes landing on the person who slapped you.

You almost roll your eyes when you realize it’s Asher, who now has black warpaint smudged around his eyes. He smiles at you, clearly enjoying his torment of you. “What? Do you have something to say?”

You let your anger get the best of you and you search your head for the nickname used in Sanctum that you’re sure will hurt him, coupled with a reminder of the insult he threw your way before knocking you out. “Yeah, how’d a Null get past the radiation shield anyways? Your red blood isn't good for anything.”

The insult hurts him, as intended, but it earns you another smack, this time accompanied by Bellamy’s struggling cry of protest. You keep your sound of pain at bay this time and turn your glare back to the man, who smirks at you. “I slipped out the same time your boyfriend did, he was just too busy to notice.”

You look at Bellamy, who looks like he has a million things he wants to ask you, but you’re cut off by a voice muttering, “Ew, what’s that smell?”

You look over to the second hooded figure, and watch as they tug the bag off Josephine’s head. She looks around in disgust before her eyes find you, taking in your appearance, and she scoffs, “God, you look like shit.”

Josephine’s presence seems to remind Bellamy that there is more at stake here, and he looks at the man standing beside you. “Which one of you is Gabriel? We have information critical to your cause.”

Josephine laughs, “Their cause is a joke.”

“Quiet!”

But Josephine doesn't stop, she just continues her taunting with a smirk. “Do you think that dressing up in scary costumes helps your cause? We laugh at you in Sanctum.”

“Why aren't you laughing now?”

The same woman from the alleyway, a blonde with warpaint, pulls out a sword and points it at Josephine. She doesn't flinch, but you can see Bellamy start to worry, and he calls out, “Just wait. They can make hosts, as many as they want.”

Asher turns to look at you in shock, Bellamy reiterating the same information you initially offered him, verifying it before your 24 hours is up. You smirk at him a little and mutter, “Told you.”

He glares at you before turning to look at Bellamy. “Details, or your rude friend dies.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

The man pulls out your Grounder knife and holds it to your throat, giving Bellamy a sinister smile. “Something tells me we could make you talk.”

“Touch her, and I'll tell you nothing.” You can see Bellamy fighting against his rising anxiety, trying to seem like the one in control, despite the fact that all of you are restrained and you have a knife at your throat for the second time in the last few hours. “You don't have long before the 12 Primes are back. Gabriel gets the details, no one else.”

The man grinds out, “There were 13.” He tosses you to the ground and yells to the others, “Chain them up! If the old man doesn't respond, you die.”

They chain Bellamy to your left and Josephine to your right, and all of you watch as one of the Children of Gabriel grabs a radio and starts to speak into it, walking out the cave as he does. “Jericho to Providence. We have a prisoner that claims Primes can now make hosts. If you're out there…”

You don't hear the rest, the man now out of sight, the rest of the children dispersed, the three of you now alone. You look to the entrance of the cave in confusion, thinking of the failure all of you have had with radios up to this point, a fact that you are well aware of, despite your limited time on this moon. So how come people born and raised here don't know the same fact? You look over at Bellamy, who looks equally confused, and you voice the question you're both thinking. “Radios don't work on this moon, how could they not know that?”

“They work in one place.”

You and Bellamy look over at Josephine, catching onto something in her tone. She leans her head back against the wall, eyes on the ceiling, looking anxious and afraid. “What is it?”

“If they're calling Gabriel, that means he's alive.”

Bellamy, sensing a deeper history, asks, “What's the deal with you two?”

“What? Are we gonna be friends now?”

He lets out a soft snort of laughter, “Doubtful.”

She glances at both of you, taking you in, before she turns away again, focusing her gaze on the wall in front of her. “I've been in love with Gabriel for 236 years, the last 70 of which he's been trying to kill me. You know, relationships.”

You and Bellamy share a look, glad that your relationship hasn't featured any murder attempts. Well, there was an attempt during the eclipse, but that’s not the same thing. You look back to Josephine when you hear a strange tapping sound, your eyes falling to her finger, tapping Morse Code against the cuff. Bellamy and Josephine notice too, and she nods, “Morse code, huh? She's crafty, I'll give her that.”

She focuses on the Morse Code, spelling out the translation as her finger moves. “B-o-o-h-o-o. That's harsh.”

You smile at your twin’s quip, until your brain starts to realize something. You look at Josephine with curiosity, aware that if Clarke is cracking jokes about Josephine’s love life, then she can hear Josephine talking about her love life. “She can hear us?”

“It would seem so, which means the wall separating our minds is almost gone. When that happens, she'll stroke out, I'll download, and you can say goodbye to your genocidal twin.”

“Let me talk to her.”

She gives you a condescending look, “I'd have to give over control for that, so no.”

“But she can hear me?”

“Yes, she can hear you.” She rolls her eyes at you and the hopeful expression on your face. “For God's sake, just say what you want to say.”

You think of all the things you want to say to Clarke, all the things you want to tell her in case you have to say goodbye, but then you realize you don't want to say goodbye. You can’t say goodbye. No matter what it takes, no after what you have to do, you will save your twin's life, the way she has saved yours and countless others on multiple occasions. Which is why you settle on, “I won't let you die.”

You’re serious when you say it, the words a promise to the Universe that you will do what needs to be done. Josephine seems taken aback by your fervor, maybe even a little jealous, but you see her hand absentmindedly rub her wrist, the same wrist that usually holds your twin’s bracelet. You smile for a second, but then the bracelet reminds you of Madi, who is supposed to be here right now. You turn to face Bellamy, fighting back your worry. “Wait, where are the others?”

“Back in Sanctum. Josephine cut Murphy so Emori stayed behind with him, and Echo stayed behind to make sure the others are safe. We never found Madi before we had to leave, and Jackson, Miller, and Jordan were late. We didn't have time to wait because the guards were closing in, so I grabbed Josephine and we escaped.” He moves closer to you, his chains reaching yours, thankfully, allowing the two of you to sit close. His voice drops to a whisper as he lifts his hands to caress your face, finger running across the dried up blood, brows furrowed with worry. “I didn't want to leave you behind, but when you didn't show up and the guards were about to grab us, I thought about what’s best for everyone and decided that saving Clarke is important.”

You smile at him, letting him know you aren’t upset that he left you behind. Because technically you were already out of Sanctum. “You’re right, saving Clarke is important, and it’s exactly what I wanted you to do. Clarke’s trapped in her head and her body is a ticking time bomb. I can take care of myself.”

He smiles at you, eyes falling on the blood again, its presence only further convincing him of what you're saying. “I know you can, because you’re strong. Stronger than any of us.”

The two of you kiss, his touch light and affectionate, but you pull away when someone behind you exclaims, “Oh, barf. Get a room.”

You roll your eyes at Josephine and mutter, “Go float yourself.”

“Funny, your sister said the same thing to me when we first met.”

You ignore her and slide down to the ground, leaning against the wall, and Bellamy does the same, the three of you sitting in silence for a few hours. You see no one in those few hours, and eventually the three of you fall asleep, resting the best you can on the cold hard ground of the cave, with you and Bellamy huddled close to fight off the slight chill in the air.

You wake a few hours later, sometime after sunrise, according to the small amount of light filtering into the cave, and when you open your eyes and look at Bellamy, you find that he’s already looking at you. Despite your circumstances, despite the possibility that you, Clarke, Josephine, and Bellamy could possibly die in a few hours, you feel a rush of peace looking up at his face, and the distinct feeling that everything is right in the world. Bellamy must feel it too, because he leans in to kiss you, soft and sweet, reminding you just how much you love his morning kisses. And his afternoon kisses, and his evening kisses, and his happy kisses, and his sad ones, his comforting ones, his passionate ones. Every kiss from Bellamy is better than the one before it, and you’re sure you could spend your entire life doing nothing but kissing him and you’d still die happy.

Bellamy pulls away and looks down at you with a smile. “To other people, you are the moon. The radiant natshana that lights up even the darkest of nights, but to me, you’re everything. The moon, the sun, the stars. You’re the air I breathe and the love in my heart. You are every leaf, every tree, every moon, planet, and galaxy in this endless Universe. You are everything to me, and you have completely captured my heart from the moment that I met you, though I tried to deny it at first.”

The two of you laugh softly as you remember the animosity that you shared in the beginning. Bellamy starts to sit up, pulling you up with him, both of you turning to face each other as you do. You can tell he has more that he wants to say to you, and though you don't understand why you're getting this declaration of love now, you accept it with a smile. “I have never been loved by someone the way you love me, and I know I’m incredibly lucky that I get to have this. That I get to have you. You have loved me at my best, and you have loved me at my very worst, and even when I am lost and struggling, still you’re there, loving me through it all. You have the biggest heart, one that is so full of love that you are so eager to give, and I love you for that. I love your strength, your vulnerability, your kindness, your beauty. I love everything about you, and I just want to give you the world. I want to protect you, and love you, and make you happy until I draw my last breath. And I’ve been waiting to tell you all of this, waiting for the perfect moment during our new life of peace, but I’m starting to worry that I won’t get that chance. I can't tell you how many times I’ve seen you laying beside me, injured, looking like you’re on the brink of death, and when I couldn't find you yesterday, I nearly lost it. So I’m going to do this while I can, while you’re in front of me, alive and okay.”

He reaches up to push your hair away from your face and you close your eyes and lean into his touch, smiling. When you open your eyes again, his hand is extended between the two of you, a small ring held out in his palm. It’s beautiful; a small round sapphire surrounded by a perimeter of tiny diamonds, all situated on a thin gold band. You look up at Bellamy in shock, his expression one of complete adoration as he whispers, “Will you marry me?”

You look between him and the ring, wondering if he’s joking, but when you meet his eyes again, you can see that he’s completely serious, and still anxiously awaiting your answer. Your face splits into a grin and you practically lunge towards him, pulling him into a hug before peppering kisses all over his face. He laughs, one of those bright pretty ones that you wish you could capture in a bottle and keep forever, and his voice is light with happiness when he says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You kiss him softly on the lips, pulling away just enough to whisper, against them, “Yes.”

His smile gets even wider, and he pulls you in for another hug, before leaning back and holding up the ring again. He takes your hand and slides it onto your left ring finger, both of you marveling at the perfect fit. You admire the ring, and the way it looks on your finger, and he whispers, “It was my mother’s.”

You look up at him, your eyes growing wide. “Oh, Bellamy.”

But he smiles, sadness unable to reach him in this moment. “She gave it to me before she was floated, told me to give it to the girl that captures my heart. I didn’t have it when I hopped on the dropship, but when I went back to the ring with the others, I went looking for it. I’ve had it with me everyday since I left you on Earth, carrying it with me to remind myself of the girl that captured my heart.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you start to lean in for another kiss when a voice behind you stops you in your tracks. “Ugh, again? Are the two of you capable of keeping it in your pants long enough for us to get out of here?”

You and Bellamy both cut back, “Shut up, Josephine.”

She holds her hands up in mock surrender before sitting up from her sleeping position, resting her head against the cave wall again. You see a smirk pass over her features and you give her a questioning look. “What?”

“My father was a fool for letting you people stay. All that time spent building a sanctuary for the human race, and he destroys it because of the most human thing of all...love.” She shakes her head before she smirks again, “I mean, who can blame him? I am awesome. It's just…”

She trails off, looking at you and Bellamy, still pressed close together. “Well, one look at the two of you, and he should have known how this would end. Guess I'm just saying all this because I know so much about both of you now.”

You nod your head, giving her a sarcastic look. “Oh, you do, huh?”

She hums in agreement, looking between you and Bellamy again. “Take the three of you, for instance. Now that's a weird relationship, isn't it? First, the twins hate each other when they land on Earth, and then Bellamy wants to kill both of you just to save his own ass, even though it means the genocide of your own people on the Ark. Then you two shack up, and Bellamy and Clarke become besties, all of you bonding over the actual genocide at Mount Weather.”

She lifts her hand, pretending to push a fake lever, “Together.”

You roll your eyes as she continues on, “Bellamy locks her up, she locks you both up, he leaves you and Clarke on Earth, she leaves you both to die in the fighting pits. I mean, it's exhausting, frankly.”

You snort, “Tell me about it.”

Bellamy leans his head against the wall, turning his gaze away from her. “You're wrong about how this ends, by the way. First, we get you back into your mind drive, and then we'll use it for a peace deal with your father.”

“Your belief in yourself is cute. But unfortunately, putting aside about a thousand variables, chief among them Clarke's newfound evangelical, do better-ism, making it impossible for her to accept a peace deal with those awful body snatchers, all four of us are gonna die in this cave.”

Bellamy nods, convinced that this is not where your story ends. “Yeah, okay. We'll see.”

She turns to glare at him, “Okay, now your confidence is just pissing me off.”

Bellamy looks at her like he’s about to respond, but suddenly the energy in the room changes. Seconds later you can hear the sound of approaching voices, and all three of you stand, looking towards the entrance to the cave. Asher comes in first, leading the rest, and he points his sword at you, commanding, “Gag the prisoners.”

He yells into the cave, for the others hidden deep inside, “Everybody up! The Sanctum riders are coming!”

You and Bellamy exchange a look as a few of the guards walk over to you, ready to gag you. They head to Josephine first, grabbing her harshly to hold her still, but she fights against them, yelling, “Get away from me!”

One of the men hits her hard and she falls to the ground. When they pull her back to her feet, a small line of black blood drips from her mouth, giving her status away. You whisper, “Shit.”

Chaos erupts after that, and the blonde woman starts to yell, “She's got the blood! She's got the blood!”

Asher comes over and looks at Josephine, eyeing the blood dripping from her mouth. “Put her on her knees.”

You know what’s gonna happen next, because they did the same thing to you hours ago. You look at Bellamy in alarm before turning and yelling, “Leave her alone!”

They force her to her knees and lift her hair, revealing the short scar on the back of her neck. Your stomach drops as they announce to the group, “She's a Prime! Unchain her, put her there.”

Asher motions to a flat rock nearby, and they unchain Josephine and drag her over to it, ignoring your begging, “Don't do this, please!”

Bellamy adds, “The drive in her head, it's Josephine!”

The name seems to make things worse, because the guard at Josephine’s back shoves her forcefully down, pressing her face into the rock. She mutters, “Not helping.”

“Think! As long as she's alive, you have leverage over Russell!”

Asher looks at Bellamy, his expression neutral, clearly not swayed by the thought of leverage. “This is not a negotiation, it's a war. The answer is Death to Primes!”

You and Bellamy watch in horror as he lifts his sword, fully intending to bring it down and chop off your twin's head, killing her once and for all. You rack your brain trying to think of anything to save her, and as you watch the sword start to lower, Josephine yells out, “Wait!”

The sword freezes in midair, and she exclaims, “Gabriel loves her. Is this what he would want?”

Her? The word hits you like a freight train, and you look at the blonde on the rock with a smile, hoping that the hunch you have is correct. You watch as she turns and kicks the leg of the man holding her in place, breaking it in half. He cries out in pain and releases her, giving her just enough time to dodge the sword that comes down onto the rock, missing her head by inches. She uses Asher’s surprise to grab him and swing him towards the rock, slamming his head into it and dropping him to the ground. Then she takes his sword and kills the man that is running to meet her, leaving only the blonde woman that you first met in Sanctum. But she makes quick work of her too, slicing her throat with the sword, stepping around the fallen body to look at you and Bellamy.

You look at her with a smile of realization, recognizing your twin anywhere. “Clarke?”

She smiles at you, “La lune.”

She bends down and grabs a set of keys as Bellamy looks at her in shock, “She gave you control?”

“It was either that or get her head cut off.”

She runs towards you, fumbling with the ring of keys, trying to find the one that fits your restraints. Deeper in the cave, the other Children of Gabriel have been alerted to your attempts at freedom, and you all look towards the sound of the approaching voices, watching shadows as they bounce off the wall, running closer. “I heard something! This way.”

You close your hands over Clarke’s, stilling her movements, “We don't have time, you have to run!”

“No!” She shakes her head hard, her expression pulling into one of desperation. “I'm not leaving you.”

“You have to! We’re running out of time. Go find Gabriel, we’ll come find you.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but the approaching voices continue to grow louder, and she knows you're right. She slips the keys into your hand, before wrapping one hand around yours and reaching out to wrap one hand around Bellamy’s. “Congratulations. I love you both.”

You smile at her briefly, the expression dropping when the voices are right around the corner, “Go! Now!”

She nods and gives you one last look before turning and running away, straight out of the cave and into the woods. Seconds later a group of people runs past you, heading outside as Asher yells at them, “It's Josephine Prime. Kill her before she gets to the rise. Do not let them get her back to Sanctum! Go!”

They all file out of the cave, leaving their injured leader behind, and you turn to Bellamy, who is looking at you with worry. “What now?”

“Now,” you open your palm, letting the handcuff keys hang down into view, giving him a mischievous grin as you do, “We get the hell out of here.”

He grins back at you, ready to raise hell with his fiance, ready to escape this cave and make things right.

Ready to show the Primes, and the Children of Gabriel, that they picked the wrong group of people to mess with.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Fortune’s Rule, Part Four

And here it is, the final section of Fortune’s Rule! I hope you enjoy! I don’t know, maybe “enjoy” isn’t the right word for this story. You’ll see what I mean.

Part One, Two, Three

Pairing: Damian Priest x OFC

Word count: 2,615

Content advisory: smut, dark/ supernatural themes, brief references to drug addiction

The next night, you have a narcotics anonymous meeting before work. There are two new people and normally you like to know what spurs a person to come here, quietly hoping that one of them will have a story as horrible as yours so that you can finally confess to someone.

You need to get it outside of you.

Damian’s voice has been echoing in your head since you left him last night. Although he didn’t specifically say that this meant confession, you don’t know how else it would work. Would that even work, though? Just because you tell your truth, does that mean that it’s no longer locked up inside you? Or does it get locked back in and just hang like a toxic cloud over everyone you tell it to. It’s not like it’s safe for you to chance it.

You know that certain people are required to keep your secrets. And technically speaking, you don’t know that you’ve done anything illegal. Immoral, yes. Plus there’s a chance that someone is looking for the money you carry around your body like a lodestone.

You want to tell Damian. Part of you wonders if you even need to tell him, or if he knows your sordid story already. He knows something. He knew something when he put his face between your legs last night. He knew you had a bad story attached to you but he still said that you deserved to feel relaxed.

What you want most of all is to see him again. Your body hasn’t stopped buzzing. Even when you slept- much better than usual- you dreamed of him, of his touch and dark eyes, of him leading you forward through foggy ground, leading you out of the woods where you’d been trapped.

You stay quiet during the meeting, lost in your thoughts, and leave as soon as things are officially over. Often when you have a meeting, you’re a few minutes late for work because you chat a little with the other penitents. This time, you’re a few minutes early.

It’s not a busy night, so you find yourself staring across the street, waiting for signs of life. They never materialize. A few guys hang around until late, one of them obviously trying to chat you up, but by about quarter to two, they go on their way and you can lock up.

You drag out the closing process, looking out the window frequently to no avail. Finally, you have to leave in order to stop yourself from spending the whole night sitting in the dark and waiting for him to arrive.

In a last, desperate move, you dart across the street and ring the doorbell.

“Damian,” you call softly, “it’s me. Can I come in?”

But there’s no answer. You feel like he’s in there somewhere, like his dark energy swirls around you like a vortex. Nothing but silence.

So you trudge away home. Tonight, your body feels heavy and cumbersome. The electricity that’s been coursing through you for 24 hours dissipates into a deep ache. You drag yourself to bed feeling old and broken down. Your ribs are sore. Your back is sore. Your legs are sore.

Your head pulses and it feels like there are bits of sand or glass pressing into your scar, as if it was still an open wound. Sleep comes at you thick and dreamless. You’re aware that you are alone in the dark, steeling yourself for your monsters to approach, but in the end you’re alone, oppressed by the quiet and loneliness. In a way, it’s worse than the nightmares.

This is not restful sleep. You try to take a nap the next day but it doesn’t quite happen. So you drink too much coffee and spend hours jittery and anxious. You’re early for work again because you need something to do and you tell yourself that you can keep your eyes off the shop across the street, even though you know it’s a lie. Even when people start to arrive, you’re cutting glances out the window. Around 11:30, the sign flashes to life and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from throwing all your customers out immediately so that you can see him.

Be good, you tell yourself. He’s there and that means you can see him again.

A number of people pass in and out of his shop and you hate every single one of them for getting to spend time with him while you’re stuck here. It feels like hours before the place empties out even though it’s only one. You clean up faster than you ever have before and sprint across the street.

The doorbell is answered immediately when you ring and you feel such relief when you step across the threshold that you want to cry out. But then it’s immediately supplanted by more anxiety.

Damian appears with a thin bohemian looking woman, his hand resting affectionately on her shoulder. The look she gives you makes it clear that she hates seeing you there as much as you hate seeing her. Damian ushers her outside, leaning through the door so that you can’t make out what he says to her nor if he touches her as they say their good nights.

He steps back inside, locking the door and heading back to the cash without acknowledging you.

After a moment, he glances up, grinning and rubbing at his chin.

“Another satisfied customer,” he purrs.

You stand there, dumbfounded, staring at his pleased expression, wishing that you could melt like a candle on the spot. He fiddles with his cash register, counting out some bills and putting them in his pocket. Finally, he looks up at you, his expression confused, like you’re behaving very strangely.

“Something the matter?” He asks casually.

“I didn’t realize…” You’re at a loss for how to continue. It hadn’t occurred to you that there were other women in the picture. It hadn’t occurred to you that what he did to you was just something he did. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you had been eager to see him because you’d felt that something special had happened between you.

“You thought that we were a couple?”

“No,” you insist, “that’s not it. I just didn’t know it was something you did for everyone.”

He laughs. “Well it’s not something I do for everyone. But if that’s what’s needed then it’s a service I’m happy to provide.”

“A service,” you repeat dumbly. “I guess maybe I should pay you, then.”

“I told you it was on the house.” He quirks an eyebrow. “You’re really mad.”

“No. I should go.”

“Stay,” he purrs. “Come in back with me. We’ll talk.”

“Talk.”

He pulls aside the curtain to the back room and leans against the door frame. There’s something feral about him, and you have to admit that part of what makes him so intensely desirable is that he gives off this untameable air. So you bow your head a little and once again enter the red-lit room where he first put you under his spell.

He strolls over to the bathroom and you see him swig some mouthwash before he comes to join you. Most men would make some effort to conceal what they’d been doing or what they expect to be doing with you but Damian clearly couldn’t care less. He walks over to where you’re seated at his divining table and places a long hand at the side of your head and leans down to speak.

“I’m glad you came,” he whispers, his lips fluttering against your skin.

He takes his place on the other side of the table but there are no cards, no attempts to see your palm, no crystal ball.

“I guess I thought maybe I was special,” you grumble.

“You are special.”

“You know what I mean. Special enough that you might want to focus on me for a bit.”

“Who says I don’t?”

“Ok, this is going nowhere.”

“Your scar is brighter.”

“What do you mean brighter?” Reflexively, you touch your hand to your forehead and are a little surprised at how the mark seems very cold to the touch.

“It looks brighter when you’re hurting. It didn’t have any kind of light in it when you left the other night and I was hoping I did a good enough job to spare you at least a few more days of pain.”

“It’s just a headache,” you answer, noticing for the first time that your head is hurting quite a bit.

“You know that’s not the kind of pain I meant.”

“Right, you’re concerned about the pain in my soul.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Not at the moment.” The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes until something simply comes out of you unbidden. “I think I lost my soul in the accident.”

Damian raises his eyebrows as if he’s shocked, although somehow you get the feeling he isn’t. “Was the accident your fault?”

“No,” you tell him, shaking your head to emphasize your point, “definitely not. It was stupid that I was even around. I shouldn’t have been there.”

“So why were you?”

“I don’t know,” you groan. “I was with my boyfriend. I just sort of did whatever he did. I didn’t think much about it.”

“But he’s not the reason you think you’ve lost your soul.”

You shake your head, memories of the woods, the sound and the smell of the river, of how cold and wet you were, of how heavy the satchel of money felt whenever you tried to move, all those memories push in on you with all their weight until you feel tears leaking from your eyes. You hug your bag with the remains of your fortune, Cynthia’s furious appeals for help ringing off the inside of your skull.

Your vision is blurred and so you don’t notice that Damian is in front of you until he lifts you to your feet and kisses you, his tongue licking the tears from your lips. You shouldn't give into him so easily, but it’s like his kiss makes you feel alive again and the heat of his body dissolves the heavy chill that’s settled over you.

As the two of you pull apart, you see his eyes flash towards a corner of the room that has another curtain.

“Is that the inner sanctum?” You joke quietly.

“That’s where I sleep.” He strokes along your jaw, tilting your head back to face him. “Would you like to see?”

“Am I allowed?”

“You are when I invite you. And if you want to.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, more passionate and energetic. He guides you to the part of the room hidden behind the thick tapestry and gently pushes you down on the enormous bed which is practically the only thing there. He lights a few candles that are in the windows before crawling over you, one hand roaming under your shirt and up your chest until he catches your breast, pinching and lightly twisting the nipple as he plants a delicate string of kisses on the underside of your jaw.

“You sure you want this?” He asks, his voice deeper than ever.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He slides your shirt off and licks at your nipples while he reaches down to rid you of your skirt as well. You kick off the worn boots you have on as he sheds his own shirt. You’re almost unable to move as your eyes hungrily admire his carved, tattooed body, but your fingers fumble their way to his belt buckle of their own accord, working with him to loosen it and remove his pants. He’s wearing nothing underneath and so you’re immediately greeted by his cock, a few shades darker than the skin of his body, long and taut like the rest of him.

You lean forward to take him in your mouth, reveling in the earthy taste of him, the drops of precum that oil your tongue while you sigh and him around him. He lets out a series of low, lusty sounds before grabbing your hair and pulling you off him, throwing you back against the bed.

The second your back hits the mattress, it’s like you black out for a second, it’s like you fall right back into your brain, into the memory of your night in the woods, so vividly that you feel that same buzzing sensation through your whole body as you fell asleep there, of how aware you were of the too-bright moon fading to darkness over your shivering form.

Then you’re back in Damian’s bed with him, the steady flames of the candles putting stars in your eyes. The man pins both your arms with one of his and draws his prick through the soaked flesh of your sex.

“You ready for this?”

“Yes,” you whine.

He pushes in hard and rough, biting down on your throat and the insides of your arms while he pounds into you. It’s almost enough to be uncomfortable. Almost. You can feel the orgasm building inside you with every stroke and touch, building for what feels like an impossible length of time. It’s like your body is rising and tightening as it approaches the threshold of ecstasy like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Damian’s gorgeous body is damp with sweat but he shows no signs of tiring. In fact, it’s like he gains energy the longer and harder he fucks you.

“Do you feel that?” He pants, his dark eyes gleaming, the candlelight reflected in their depths.

At first, you don’t know what he means but then you feel the orgasm break over you at the same time as he releases inside you. But that’s not all. He continues to move and the feeling of your orgasm goes on, not in waves but at a constant pitch until you’re so sensitive that the movements are as painful as they are pleasurable. He too appears to plateau indefinitely, his sounds and movements increasingly wild and bestial.

He presses a heavy hand over your face, pushing your eyelids closed.

There you are under the moon in the forest, crouched on the ground. You’re staring at your own form, wrapped around the bag of money, taking shelter behind the fallen tree. It’s like seeing yourself while you sleep but that’s not it. You can still feel the pain in your limbs but it’s fading, your nerves going numb. You’re colder than you’ve ever been, freezing.

You sit there and watch your unmoving body, feeling the sensation draining from it.

Damian slides his hand down to your throat, squeezing lightly and bringing you back to him, just for a second. Then you’re thrown back to watching. And you stare as the body, your body, shudders and the air hisses from it. Blood drips from the wound on your head, onto the tree trunk and down to the ground, splattering the leaves beneath. You look into your own glazed eyes. They do not look back.

“Where are you?” Damian snarls, his movements finally slowing a little.

“I’m in the forest,” you croak, shuddering at the pain in your head and ribs, which feel like they’ve been crushed.

“Where are you?” He hisses again, licking your cheek and nipping the flesh.

The realization is like a blow. “Dead,” you rasp.

His movements still at last and he lifts himself over you, his entire eyes black with flames trapped inside them.

“Where are you?” He asks a final time.

You cry a little, afraid of what’s to come, but finally you speak.

“In hell.”

#damian priest fanfic #damian priest imagine #nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wayward wrestle writing

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

Documented for Posterity, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

1:20 Method 1: Subject attempts to sleep off effects

In those first few halcyon moments before Yuzuri reaches for the lamp, Suzu has high hopes. It’s not the first time he’s slept off an inappropriately pitched tent; college dormitories and trips to the field don’t leave much in the way of privacy. He prefers other methods, of course, but as he settles down against a pillow of his jacket and a blanket of Yuzuri’s cloak, he’s got a good good about his chances.

But then her fingers flip the flame down to the faintest flicker, light dancing through the glass with a demure wave, and--

Well, now he’s just locked in a dark room with stiff cock and a girl dressed not only in a clinging chemise-- there’s a flirty ripple of lace sewn to the curve of her decolletage that he’s personally finding very hard not to dwell on-- but also smelling like apples and vanilla. His heart gallops triple time in his chest, not sure if he’s ravenous for pie, biscuits, or her cunt.

It’s a bit much, that’s what he’s trying to say.

“It’s hot in here,” he complains, because anything else will almost certainly end with him doing a walk of shame in his long johns and boots across the university’s main floor. “Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”

“Just try to sleep already,” Yuzuri sighs, impatient, somewhere behind his head. He can’t see her; she’s moved away from the lamp’s hazy glow, and from the sound of it, is back at the table, pen scratching at the rough parchment of the page.

Experiment one, she must be writing, in the looping, fat hand he’s seen in the log book and on placards in the hothouses. Subject trying to sleep away erection of middling size. In this researcher’s experience, it should only take fifteen minutes to reduce to its normal size, though the standard deviation for cocks--

“I can hear you thinking.” Her pen skips to a stop. “Stop it.”

“It’s hard.” He rolls over, half on his stomach before he’s reminded-- ah yes, not a good plan having that touch...anything. Even if it’s just cold storeroom floor. “I’m very smart, you know.”

“I can’t see how.” He can’t see her, but he knows how her mouth is pinched, elongating the elegant oval of her face, and her arched brows drawn down to look like the sternest librarian fantasy. “It’s not like you do it regularly anyway.”

He nearly corrects her-- once a day, whether he needs to or not, just to keep the pipes working and his sheets clean-- but she’s not talking about that.

“Hey.” Suzu’s in no position to put his hands anywhere near his hips, but spiritually, they’re there, arms indignantly akimbo. “I have plenty of ideas--”

“Then have more of them about sleeping,” she informs him, stocking feet scuffling on the floor. “It’s impossible to have results if a test subject refuses to participate in the experiment.”

“Fine.” His arms fold across his chest in a huff. “I will. But you should know--”

“Suzu.” The way her mouth wraps around his name, so soft and resigned, has every bit of him standing at attention in all the best worst ways. Or worst best. He can’t quite decide. “Shut up.”

2:10

Suzu would like the record to show-- if Yuzuri would be kind enough to oblige him, which he knows she won’t be-- he does give it an honest effort.

Five minutes of honest to goodness silence settles him-- at least, enough to realize he’s too scrawny to ever lay on a stone floor in comfort. His shoulder blades jut oddly into the mortared edges, and when he rolls into his side, his ribs grate. It’s cold too; even in his woolens, Suzu feels the frosts of winters past riming his spine. And quite honestly, warm as his coat is, it’s nothing next to a good down pillow. Most bedding doesn’t smell of lab chemicals and yesterday’s lost dumpling. And Yuzuri’s cloak--

Well, it’s soft, warm-- and it smells like her. And, fool that he is, Past-Suzu thinks that’s a plus. Oh, Past-Suzu just catches that hint of dessert on the air and sticks his nose right in, huffing down that sweet scent of apple crisp, letting the soft, flickering of the lamp lull him. He can’t see her, but line of sight has never been necessary, oh no, not when a semi-eidetic memory meets an imagination as overactive as his.

Yuzuri sits up on her chair, one stockinged leg tucked beneath her, the other dangling, foot arched as her toes strain to press against the floor. Her golden hair falls over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, chemise sliding down its pale cusp. It’s chilly in here; she raises a hand to guide it back up. Her fingers hesitate-- maybe it would be better if they shared heat. Suzu, after all, looked so cozy there on the floor. Angelic, even, with the way his hair curled over his jacket.

Slowly, she stands, padding over, dropping to her knees. Her breasts strain against the soft linen of her chemise, nipples aroused by the contact, her hand reaching--

“Nope!” Suzu bolts upright, hunching over his knees. It’s a bit of a feat, now that his tent had expanded into a pavilion. “This is...definitely not working.”

The valve squeaks, the shadows deepening as the lamp brightens. The glare Yuzuri levels at him over the table describes all the way that his fantasies will stay firmly in the realm of imagination, aphrodisiac-induced arousal or not. “Really?”

“Yes,” he informs her a little more manic than he would like. “It’s giving me far too much time to think.”

Yuzuri hum, flatly. “I can see how that might be dangerous to your health.”

“It’s not funny,” he snips, head snapping over his shoulder. “I’ve had an erection for two whole hours. That’s-- that’s at least a whole hour longer than I’ve ever done before.”

The pen scratches across the page, but he could swear he hears a muttered, hour fifty-five.

He frowns. “What was that?”

Yuzuri doesn’t bother looking up. “What was what?”

“You said something.”

“No.” Her mouth forms the word carefully as she crosses her ankles, legs drawn tight together from knee to thigh. “I didn’t.”

His mouth purses, annoyed. “I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously.”

“I’m handling it with the seriousness it deserves,” she informs him primly, her tone implying another half to the sentence, which is none.

“I’ll have you know it hurts.” At least it does now, now that he’s said it. Stings, quite honestly, like skin pinched in a hinge, too full for too long.

For the first time since this whole debacle started, a real thrill of fear rushes through him. The whole situation is ridiculous and mortifying and carries the vague threat of ending his career if someone with more pearls to clutch than Yuzuri found out he was sporting an erection in an educational institution, but it hasn’t seemed dangerous. But now he nudges his cock, just the barest bit, and tears spring to his eyes. Something might actually be medically wrong. This could have lasting implications.

“Oh, honestly.” Yuzuri squiggles in her seat, thighs rubbing together in a way that brings new meaning to the words painfully hard. “Can’t you just jack yourself off?”

Suzu, age twenty-five, of sound body and mind, nearly has a cardiac event.

“What?” He stares at her hard enough to pop a vessel-- which he doesn’t, but it’s a close thing, considering. “Right here?”

“N-no, Suzu!” A blush blooms over the rosy rounds of her cheeks. “I’m not just telling you t-to whip it out in front of me!”

He nearly asks why not-- it’s not like it will be the first penis she’s seen outside of a clinical setting-- but his teeth snap shut around the impulse. That’s one of those things that could be career limiting, if one considered the bedroom a place of employment. Which he didn’t; it was his sanctum sanctorum, the place in which he rested his head at night, but--

Well, if he had a reason to be employed in there, he might. He’d at least like to be conducting interviews, instead of, ah, self-review.

“I meant that you could, I don’t know, go around the corner.” She waves her hand vaguely towards the back of the stockroom. “Use a shelf for cover or, um, something.”

“There’s a closet,” he says, because elaborate self-sabotage could be listed on his curriculum vitae under professional skills. “We use it for storing light sensitive materials.”

Against all reason, she actually lifts a finger to her chin and ponders the suggestion. “You’re able to do it in the dark?”

He could find his cock blind, deaf, mute, and one-handed, but that strikes him as a relatively unimpressive feat, considering how it’s attached to him.

“Yeah,” he says instead, “if you, ah, don’t mind.”

There is a distinct, heavy hesitation before she replies, “Well, it’s not like you’ll be in the same room.”

“No,” he agrees, technically.

“I think--” she worries at the edge of a page, thoughtful-- “that as long as we’re, ah, recording our findings, then it’s fine to be...scientifically rigorous.”

He swallows, hard. It makes a noticeable thunk.

“Right,” he says, weakly, rising to his feet. “Scientifically...rigorous.”

2:15 Method 2: Subject attempts manual stimulation

“What?” Suzu squawks, peeping out of the closet. “You can’t write that!”

Yuzuri flattens the journal against her chest-- that’s not helping what going on down in his whole...Pavilion Street reconstruction down south. “Why not?”

“People are going to read that!” He makes a terrible, uncoordinated swipe for it. She easily sidesteps him, giving him a withering glare. There was a reason Kirito always asks Obi to be on his team for the little snow battles him and his rascally friends enacted on the quad and not Suzu.

“That’s the point,” Yuzuri deadpans, “it’s being documented for posterity, like all you scholars love.”

“Right, yes, I get that.” He shuffles, cock bobbling painfully in his pants. Really, something has to be done about this. “But Shidan will read it.”

Her mouth pulls thin; or at least it would, if her lips weren’t full and quantifiably kissable no matter their configuration. “Shidan is a person, yeah.”

“Which means I’ll have to talk about it.” He licks his lips, nervous, and Yuzuri watches him with ever-increasing incredulity. “In, you know, a meeting.”

She stares for a long moment, then opens the journal with a sigh.

2:15 Method 2: Subject attempts manual stimulation to self-administer proposed course of treatment

“That’s better.”

Yuzuri glares up at him. “Just get in the closet already.”

2:19

This should be easy. After all, Suzu always joked-- with Obi, alone, door locked after surreptitiously checking the halls to make sure no one was lingering too close to hear through the solid oak-- that if they’d handed out doctorates for masturbation, he’d have three. He is, in as much as one could be at a private practice with no grading rubric, a professional.

But as soon as he unbuttons the fall of his trousers, letting his cock sit heavy in his hands, he’s just...lost.

It should be a relief. When he’s left to his own devices, there’s no bigger rush than making it to his room before midnight, work finished-- or at least, avoided-- and stripping down to nothing. Just him, his bed, and a bottle of vanilla-scented oil, with the whole night before them.

But now he stands here in the dark, cramped closet, the scent of herbs so heavy he can feel it pressing against his skin, and even with his aching cock, he just can’t quite, well--

Get it up. No, wait, it’s definitely up, but--

But there’s nothing sensual about this. No romance. No chemistry. Like the dates Yuzuri always complains about-- no dinner first.

“How’s it going?” The wood muffles Yuzuri’s voice, but he can hear each word as crisp as an accusation. “Getting close?”

Suzu’s tongue falls in an exasperated cluck, swiveling his neck toward the door. “Just how long do you think this takes?”

“In my vast experience,” she drawls, her tone vibrating at the frequency glass shatters, “you should already be done.”

He’s tempted to balk, maybe even disparage her previous paramours, but, well-- if she was here, her soft, slender hands wrapped around his cock, whispering encouragement into his ear, Suzu doubts he’d fare much better. His cock gives a good twitch of agreement, and promptly continues to get absolutely nowhere.

“Well,” he manages, mouth utterly dry-- another factor making this whole venture both uncomfortable and unlikely-- “I can’t do it when you’re right out there, listening.”

Even through the door her sigh is heavy, frustrated. “I’m taking notes!”

“I don’t see why,” he snaps, giving his shaft a vengeful stroke. It, like all the others, feels good while also being irrevocably, disappointingly wrong. “It’s not like you’ll be describing this in Methods.”

“Because if I take notes, this is experimentation,” she explains haltingly, “and if I don’t, then...”

Then he’s just a young man fruitlessly jerking off in a closet while she listens, no matter the details. She could sit back at the table, of course, folding those shapely legs beneath her, biting her lip with a longing glance over her shoulder but--

But it wouldn’t change anything. He’s still in a closet, hand around his cock, hoping for some relief, and she’s enabling him. The science is the only thing between her and a scandal.

“It’s just...” His palm squeezes the base of his shaft, a spark of arousal zipping up his spine. “It’s like trying to pee when there’s someone in the next stall.”

There’s a long moment of silence, enough that he wonders if she’s wandered away after all, ready to wash her hands of the whole thing. It’s his problem, after all, not hers, and she--

“Suzu.” Her voice is low, the kind of deep-throated whisper that sends static swirling over his skin. “Are you a shy pisser?”

His cheeks sting, heat prickling like a rash. Unfair-- by any natural law, or at least the ones in his repertoire-- he shouldn’t have the blood to spare for a blush, let alone one that fully threatens to expand its horizons in either northern or southerly direction. Any moment now he’ll start to get dizzy, maybe even pass out in this tiny bolthole of a closet, and Yuzuri will have to drag him out with his pants around the ankles before she goes and writes something like, subject’s delicate constitution precludes finishing trial, and--

“NO ONE LIKES PEEING IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.” His breath huffs out of him in ragged pants, and for once it has nothing to do with the state of his erection. Well, tangentially it does, but-- “honestly, Yuzuri.”

“Strange stance to take when you can pee on any tree you want,” she mutters, just audible through the oak. “Now are you going to finish this up or what?”

Suzu looks down at his cock-- still painfully hard, ridiculous jutting out from the ruin of his trousers-- and glares.

“Why are you even still here,” he grumbles, shoving it back behind his fall, buttons fumbling out of the grip of his trembling fingers. “Nothing about this is arousing.”

2:20

“I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Yuzuri says, incredulous, for what had to be the twelfth time since he’s stumbled out of the closet, desperately aroused and with no relief in sight. The repetition has not made the observation any less embarrassing. “You must do it all the time.”

Suzu hunches over his knees, willing himself to disappear. Like everything he wants, invisibility remains frustratingly elusive. “I’m not talking to you about-- about--”

“Jerking off?” Her brows make a rousing bid for her hairline. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

He shrivels sullenly. “It’s not fair.”

Yuzuri sighs, but she tips her head to look at him, hair falling like a solid sheet of gold over her shoulder, neck curved in an elegant line, ready for a mouth to--

Ugh. Suzu buries his face between his knees. His suffering is unending.

“How is this unfair?” She asks, annoyance adding spikes to every oblivious word that falls from her lips. “Just because your genitalia is external and obvious?”

It should be impossible to be so angry and so aroused at the same time, not without blissfully passing out to avoid both states, but here he is, still conscious. Still conscious, and the tatters of his brain-to-mouth filter frittered away by the ache in his crotch.

“It’s not fair,” he seethes raggedly, “because nothing is happening to you!”

The silence his shout leaves behind is deafening. What was he thinking? He never raises his voice, not like this, and especially not at Yuzuri. Yuzuri who could be doing anything else instead of sitting here, nursing him through the worst night of his life.

“What?”

He can barely bring himself to look up, to look at the confusion furrowing her perfect alabaster brow.

“I know it’s not your fault, but--” he should really stop himself, but an object in motion stays in motion, and there’s no friction he can provide that can stop the truth from barrelling out of his mouth-- “here I am, experiencing death by erection, and you--” he waves his hand vaguely in her direction-- “are immune or something.”

“Immune?” The word hisses between her teeth, sharp as a page’s edge. “Suzu, I’m dying. I-- I can barely sit upright, but someone has to write this down.”

Suzu stares. Properly this time, gaze fixed to her face, and-- she’s flushed, pink blooming around the gathering at her collar, and twinging up her neck, flooding her cheeks. “W-what?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’“ she snaps. “It’s not like I’ve been hiding it! Just because I don’t have external genitalia doesn’t mean I’m not--”

She throws up her hands, the noise she makes halfway between a grunt and a scream,all frustration. Her one arm drops, wiping at her forehead--

Her forehead, which is coated in sweat. Wiped by her hands, which are trembling. Right above her eyes too, too dark even for the dimness of the room. And her thighs, they rub together, pressed tight at their apex--

His mouth dries. Her chemise is wet, right where it settles over her crotch. The scent in the room now is not just herbs and alcohol, but something earthy and tantalizing, something he’d like to taste on his tongue.

“Yuzuri,” he says slowly, heart pounding in his ears. “Are you...horny?”

She turns to him with those too dark eyes, breath huffing out her small nose.

“You,” she sighs, trembling fingers pressing to her temples, “are an utter moron.”

#suzuri #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #somewhere on the citrus scale but god knows where it is #definitely not a lemon but limey??? maybe???#listen I know I said this would show up in February #but obviously things rarely work out the way i wish they would #i'm hoping to have the third and definitely final part out this August #but that all depends on bingo and obiyukiweek!

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diazevan · 4 years

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4. Running Out Of Time “Collapsed Building”

Tony messes with an artifact, in the Sanctum Sanctorum, and ends up, stuck inside Peter's darkest memories.

AO3 Link

Tony loved visiting Strange’s place.

There was a lot to see, and for once, he understood none of it.

He was a man of science, and he refused to be drawn in by magic.

However, he did have trouble, with listening to the rules, but that was nothing new.

He tried, but he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting. He’d reach out, to touch artifacts, forgetting that he shouldn’t.

That was why he brought Peter with him.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter turned, batting Tony’s hand away from a display unit, “Stop it.”

Tony pulled back his hand, “I was looking.”

Peter hissed, with a glare, “Look with your eyes.” He turned back, to continue his conversation with Strange.

It was times like these, that Tony couldn’t believe he was the parental one.

Tony stepped aside, scanning the display, on his left.

A small, black box caught his attention. It didn’t look like much, but somehow, it was worthy of its own shelf. Tony unconsciously raised his hand, reaching out to quickly poke it, while Peter was distracted.

Before he could change course, Peter screamed out, “Mr. Stark, wait-” He grabbed Tony’s low-hanging wrist, with a trembling hand.

Tony’s finger barely scraped the artifact, but when he turned, to see Strange’s wide-eyes, and a pale look, he realized he’d made the wrong choice. Strange’s cloak wrapped around him, he stepped forward, with a yelp, “Peter, let go!”

A bright white light blinded Tony, “Shit.”

He blinked, to clear his vision. He was standing, outside. Underneath his feet, was damp grass, and beside him, was cobble ground.

“Peter?” He called, flipping to the side, “Strange?” He rubbed his fingers against his temple, “I am an idiot.”

It was dark, and he seemed to be, in the middle of some sort of industrial estate, “Peter!” He spun on his heel, “Holy Shit.”

In front of him was a fallen building – a pile of rubble, to put it simply. It couldn’t have been long since it was demolished, he could tell by the accompanying dust in the air.

A figure hurried past him, barely visible, Tony waved an arm out, “Hey!”

The figure didn’t even flinch.

Tony hurried ahead, “Hey, can-” He dug his heel, into the mud below, when the person’s face became visible, under the moonlight.

It was Adrian Toomes.

Tony curled his fingers, digging them into his palm, “You—” Raged absorbed him, he clenched his fists by his side, “Toomes!” He hissed, reaching out his hand, to grab the man’s shoulder, but his hand, fell right through him, “What?”

He reached up, waving his hand in front of Toomes’ face, but he went, unnoticed.

“Fuck.”

This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

“Tony, can you hear me?” Strange’s voice echoed, it came from all directions, sending a chill up Tony’s spine.

“Yes.” He sprinted ahead, looking everywhere, “I can hear you, where are you?”

“Where you left us.” Strange said, his tone laced with sarcasm, “It’s going to take some time getting you back – you gotta hang on.”

“Where am I?”

“Well, technically you’re still in the Sanctum.” Strange sighed, “Alas, your soul is elsewhere.”

Tony rolled his eyes, watching Toomes put on his Wingsuit, “So, I’m unconscious?”

“Not exactly.” Strange explained, “Your soul is stuck.”

“Thanks for dumbing it down,” Tony crossed his arms, “Stuck where?”

“Haven’t you worked that out yet?”

Tony looked to the skies, as Toomes landed, on a nearby ledge, “-Peter?”

“You’re in his mind, you’re seeing his memories.” Strange cut in, “You’re only going to see—” His words drowned out like they were communicating over a bad phone line, “You’re—”

Tony tapped the back of his ear, “You’re breaking up, Doc.”

“I’m sor-ry, Ton-y.” Strange’s voice glitched, “You’re on your own.”

Silence.

“Ah.” Tony combed a hand through his hair, “Brilliant.”

It was Peter’s mind, but considering Tony’s day job, it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced.

This was the night that Peter defeated Toomes.

Tony knew about the fallen building, but from Happy’s report, it was likely that Toomes had demolished it to hide evidence of his wrongdoing.

Peter’s familiar voice screamed, “Hello! Hello!”

Something invisible hit Tony’s chest, paralyzing him, “Kid?” He pressed a hand to his chest, this is a memory, this is a memory, this is only a memory.

“Please.” Peter sobbed, in desperation, “Hey, hey, please. I’m down here. I’m down here—”

Tony leaped forward, “Peter!”

It dawned on him, pretty quickly.

“No.”

Peter was trapped, underneath the rubble.

It wasn’t his Peter.

Still, Peter had never told him about this.

Tony took in a deep breath and charged forward, he phased through the rubble, like it wasn’t even there, because it wasn’t.

He came to a standstill, and got down on his knees, “Peter—”

Peter was laid on his front, crushed underneath a heap of rubble, wearing his ridiculous makeshift suit.

His face was a gallery of small cuts and bruises, he was breathing, at irregular intervals, as he stared down, at the puddle in front of him.

Peter would be dead if he didn’t have his powers. This would have killed him.

Tony was unsure, how he’d managed to survive, without backup. Scenarios ran through his head. If the debris, to their left, had fallen at another angle, even Spider-Man would have died on impact.

Toomes would have gotten away with his plan.

Tony would have recovered his kid’s body, curled under the rubble, of a random building – he wouldn’t have been Tony’s kid then, they’d only just met. It was the time after this, that Tony grew to love Peter.

If Peter had met his end, in pain and distress, under tons of concrete, the world would have lost its greatest hero.

May would have lost, the only family she had left, and she’d resent Tony. So would Ned. He wouldn’t be able to blame them, it would have been his fault, it was his fault.

Tony would have lost, his last hope. That’s what Peter was. Peter, by being himself, gave Tony a new perspective of life. A hope that kept Tony’s head out of the sand, in those five years that Peter was gone.

Tears welled in Tony’s eyes, “Kid, I’m sorry…” He held a trembling hand under his chin, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here—”

Peter started ahead, with red-rimmed eyes, and a trembling lower lip, “Come on, Peter.” He spoke to himself, he moved, shifting the debris off his back, “Come on, Spider-Man.”

Tony sat back, his jaw dropped, “Holy Shit.”

“Come on, Spider-Man.” Peter managed to get up, onto his feet, “Come on, Spider-Man.” He held up his arms, using everything he had to shift the rubble, “Come on, Spider-Man!”

“Oh, kid—” Tony didn’t have long to be surprised, or amazed because suddenly, he was falling. He landed, on his feet, on an unfamiliar street corner, “What the fuck.”

Somewhere new.

Peter walked past him, with a Star Wars magazine tucked under his arm, and a can of Coke, in his hand.

The kid looked young, his curls swooped down, covering his eyes, but his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning holes in the sidewalk below his feet.

Tony mindlessly called out, “Peter?” It was a force of habit, like talking out loud to a movie, whenever the character was heading head-first into danger.

A gunshot ricocheted in the distance, perhaps a street or two away from them. Tony flinched, gaining air. It was New York, so it wasn’t unheard of, but it was sudden, breaking the silence.

Peter stopped, in his tracks, and turned back.

A man charged into view, sprinting across the road, with his head hung low.

Peter watched him go, with a knowing look in his eyes. The kid straightened his back, blew a slow breath, and ran back, heading towards the direction of the gunshot.

Tony followed, in a slow jog.

This was early for Peter, the origin of Spider-Man. It was clear, he’d already been bitten, at this point – he wasn’t wearing his glasses, and he was running, with ease, with no need for an asthma inhaler.

They turned a corner, and Peter came to a sudden standstill.

Tony swayed aside, to see what Peter was.

He gasped, stepping back, “Oh, God—”

It was Ben Parker, he was sprawled across the sidewalk, on his back. His hand was rested against his bullet wound, blood seeping through his fingers, as he slowly moved his head.

The can and magazine dropped from Peter’s grasp, as he leaped forward, “Ben!”

Tony brought a hand to his head, “Jesus—”

“Uncle Ben!” Peter yelped, stumbling over, “Uncle Ben!” He collapsed onto his knees, with a heavy thud, “Oh, shit—”

Ben choked out, “Peter?”

“It’s me, I’m here, it’s Peter.” With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone, “No…”

Tony cautiously stepped closer, Peter’s cell was dead.

“Eh..” Peter fumbled, through Ben’s coat pocket, “Come on—”

Ben weakly moved his hand, away from the wound, “Petey—”

Peter shushed him, “Gotta—"

“Buddy—” Ben gargled, “Look at—"

Peter swayed back, sitting on his heels, “Ben—"

Ben reached up, resting his bloodied hand against Peter’s cheek, “My Peter…”

Tony’s throat cracked, he brushed the back of his hand, over his eyes. He used to despise, the idea of not being there, for his mother, when she died. He’d even envied Peter, at times, knowing the kid was there, with Ben, in his last moments. He didn’t anymore. If he’d had to watch, his mum, die, knowing he couldn’t save her, would have been a fate worse than death.

A fate Peter survived.

“I—” Peter sobbed, “I—”

Ben’s eyes flickered shut, and his hand fell away from Peter’s face.

“Ben?” Peter’s small voice cried; he pulled on Ben’s arm, “Ben! No, please!”

Tony edged closer, “Kid.”

“Ben, please!” Peter sobbed, “I can’t do this on my own.” He held his head back, shrieking as loud as he could, “Help! Somebody, please!”

Tony stepped over, with caution, he knelt, “Peter—”

“Ben…” He choked on a sob, “Please, I wanna go home.”

Tony hated not being able to reach out and help, “Kid…”

A new voice, came from nearby, “Oh my, God!”

And another, “—I think he’s been shot!”

“Call the police!”

A lady, no older than forty, rushed over, kneeling beside Peter, “Honey…”

A man stood behind Tony, a cell phone pressed to his ear.

Peter kept a hand on Ben’s shoulder, he turned, “Can you—"

She locked an arm around Peter’s back, “We can help.”

“I couldn’t—”

She gently shushed him, and took his hand, “Come with me, sweetheart.”

Peter shook his head, “I can’t leave him.”

“My husband, George –“ She pointed up, at the man, “He’s gonna keep your dad safe, I promise.” She spoke gently, “And I’m gonna take care of you.”

Peter inhaled sharply, “Okay—”

She locked her fingers his arm and helping him onto his feet, “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

She guided him aside, coaxing him away, making sure his back was turned.

Tony made a mental image of her because he needed to thank her, for saving his kid, on the worst day of his life.

He closed his eyes, as he started falling again – this time, he landed on the muddy ground. He stood straight, looking around, “Fuck.”

This time, it was a familiar sight.

It was the battleground, the place he almost died, laying his life down for the universe.

He knew what he was destined to see, but he wasn’t ready.

He turned, on his heel, to see Rhodey, knelt by his side.

Tony saw himself, collapsed against a pile of debris, his entire right side charred beyond recognition.

He jerked, hearing swoop overheard, “No—”

Peter landed, with a haunted look across his face.

Tony jumped ahead, reaching out, “Kid, don’t—”

Peter cried out, acting strong, “Mr. Stark?”

Rhodey hung his head, moving aside, to give Peter space.

Peter sprinted ahead, kneeling, “Hey– Mr. Stark?” He grabbed Tony’s uninjured hand, “Can you hear me?” His voice broke, “It's Peter.”

Tony glared, at himself, “Say something.”

“Hey.” Peter breathed, slowly, “We won, Mr. Stark– We won, Mr. Stark. We won.” He cracked, “You did it, sir, you did it.”

Tony swayed back, turning away. Sometimes, he doubted his place in Peter’s life, who he was and what he stood for, but he realised, hearing the same terror in Peter’s voice, from the night that Ben died, that Peter saw him as a father-figure, that was who he was destined to be.

Tony jolted, as a hand wrapped around his wrist, and Peter shouted out, “Tony!”

Tony sprung upright, his eyes flew open, “Woah.” He waited until his head, stopped spinning, before taking in his surroundings, he was back in Strange’s place, sat on the floor, “Peter?”

Peter was knelt, in front of him, hand on his arm, “Ugh.” He sighed heavily, and then slapped Tony’s arm, “Idiot.”

“Huh?”

Peter whined, sitting down, “We couldn’t get you back.”

Tony looked up to Strange, “That was—” He swallowed, “A lot.”

“You were merely in Peter’s darkest memories.”

Tony barked a laugh, “Merely?”

Peter snapped his head up, his cheeks devoid of color, “What did you see?”

Tony nudged his chin up, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Peter nodded.

Tony turned his attention back to Strange, “What was that thing?”

“It’s called the Truce.” He said, “An artifact that was created to end wars.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “How?”

“The leader, from each side, would see the other’s darkest memories, to help them better understand one another’s sides.”

Tony frowned, seeing the obvious flaw with that, “Oh, really?”

“Despite it being invented for that reason, most of the time, it achieved the opposite.”

“There it is.” He flinched, spinning to Peter, “Wait, so Peter, did you—"

“I was able to stop Peter, from seeing into your mind, but it took some time, extracting you—"

Tony leaned forward, grabbing Peter’s hand, “Thank God, for that.” He got up, planting a kiss against Peter’s cheek.

Peter turned, “Will he be okay now, Strange?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine.” Strange crossed his arms, “And Stark?”

Tony kept his eyes on Peter, “Yes, dear?”

“Keep your hands to yourself, next time.”

“Gotcha.”

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #running out of time #collapsed building #marvel #irondad #irondad fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #stephen strange #ben parker #marvel fanfiction

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sir-silly · 4 years

Text

The Last War fan review

So, our beloved show has ended. And while I wish things would have gone differently, I did cry with relief when Clarke looked over and saw everyone already waiting for her.

Anyway, I wanted to share some of my thoughts on the finale.

1) Going right into the title sequence kind of shocked me. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but I was just immediately like “oh.” It was a bitch-slap in the face that they left a gap in the credits for Bob Morley. Why you gotta do us like that?

2) Murphy screaming “come on” while they used the defibrillator on Emori was heartbreaking. And his little whispered encouragements were so freaking cute.

3) Clarke rampage? Yes, please! I love me a badass woman. However, unlimited ammo is a sin in writing. The moment Octavia picked up the sword was a big “oh yes.”

4) Did Cadogan not care about his son like at all? Lmao. Why is he so hung up on Callie and not his other kid (who I can’t even remember the name of). I don’t care if they explain in the prequel, that’s still a shitty parent choosing favorites. Along with his wife, like, was she not his greatest love? It was Callie? Kinda fucked up.

5) Why the fuck could Jordan figure out it was a test and not a war in 5 seconds when the Disciples were studying that shit for decades? I know he’s Monty’s son, but he’s not a genius or anything.

6) Thoughts on the test: I think Cadogan would have failed and the human race would be destroyed. Why bother asking questions if you already know all the answers?

7) Why wasn’t Gaia in the finale like at all?? Like, what the fuck. She was hunting??? For what?? That really annoyed me because I’ve grown to really like her and there was no point in her not being involved in the last episode. They seriously couldn’t have thrown her in there? Like, come on! Even Niylah was there! (not saying that I don’t like her, it’s just that Gaia has felt far more important to the story than her).

8) I do think that Jasper and Hope are cute together, and I know they spent the majority of their lives either alone or only with their parents, but GOD I can’t stand how awkward they are. Also, I know ya’ll have feelings for each other and shit, but is now really the time to be making out?? Why do people think that’s okay in literally the worst situations? I know it’s a show, but come on.

9) And how the fuck did Jordan throw and catch that sword? He’s a child who’s never fought a day in his life. Unless they suddenly want to tell me that Harper and Monty were secret ninjas and taught him all their tricks, I don’t believe that.

10) I’m being pissy and bringing up things from the past, but I don’t care. Why the fuck couldn’t Harper and Monty gone into cryo? I know they were happy and shit, but I’M NOT. How the fuck did it take so long for him to get into the files for Sanctum? His ass has done that shit a thousand times before in about two minutes and suddenly it takes him 80 years? Bullshit.

11) I’m still being pissy, but how the fuck does Jordan know what a magician is? “For my first trick, I will make an army appear.” Bruh, no. Monty wouldn’t have known what a magician was either. If they weren’t being taught what a Navy Seal was, there’s no way they knew what magicians were. Calling bullshit on that one as well.

12) I was pretty surprised that the Disciples didn’t start firing on Wonkru immediately. Like, this is the war they’ve been gearing up for forever and they don’t attack as soon as possible? Also, where the fuck did Wonkru get their war paint? Do they just constantly have it on their person? Or did their asses literally spend time making their paint before going to Bardo?

13) I fucking love Miller and Jackson. They’re freaking adorable. Murphy’s flat “I am glad you are safe” was so fucking funny. Also, saving Emori in one scene just to kill her in the next is bullshit. They should have just killed her the first time and done the same thing anyway. Murphy screaming at Jackson to do something and sobbing was heartbreaking. Fantastic acting on Richard Harmon’s part.

14) Octavia putting on Lincoln’s same warpaint again was once again, so sad. I miss that man. He was too good for his own good. And while I do think that her and Levitt are very cute together, I’ll always prefer her with Lincoln. But I think that he would be really happy that she has found someone new to love.

15) Apparently whatever Echo “did” to Levitt was so forgettable that I don’t even know what she’s talking about. Bad writing. I shouldn’t forget that in just a few weeks, I should remember as soon as I see the two of them in the same room.

16) Lexa. Just all of it. There were some suspicions that she would show up for the last episode, but I didn’t really believe them because I didn’t understand how she would be integrated. I’m glad that they did bring her back, but I’m also not. It was amazing to see her back by Clarke in all of her armor and glory, but knowing it wasn’t actually Lexa was just a punch in the face. It wasn’t her mind, so it’s almost like they didn’t bring her back anyway. I honestly would have preferred if they used someone else for her Judge, because that just really didn’t do it for me. Their hug was sweet, but it didn’t even count as her returning. I personally think that her Judge should have been Bellamy or Madi instead, as they both certainly could fill the role of “the subject’s greatest teacher or the source of their greatest failure...it can be their greatest love.” This is just my preference. Believe me, I know how much Lexa meant to Clarke, but as a fan, bringing our favorite Heda back in that way wasn’t the best way to do it. As a writer, it makes sense, but it doesn’t as a fan. The writers can’t just think of what is the best storytelling, they have to think of what those watching will think.

17) I’m confused about the mindspace? Why did Clarke wake up in her solitary room with her memories painted all over the walls, but Emori woke up in the castle with a view of the desert? Why wouldn’t it have been her and Murphy’s cave? Is there a reason it was the bedroom and not the cave?

18) I know this isn’t canon in any sense, but could you imagine if Murphy and Emori fought over John’s body and she won, and then suddenly woke up with a penis? How fucking funny would that be? Just had to throw that out there.

19) Can I just again reiterate how fucking cute Miller and Jackson are?

20) I’m curious about the location of the test. Why did Cadogan’s take place on a pier, while Raven’s happened on the Ark? If it was their favorite place, wouldn’t Raven’s have been actually out in space? Like during a spacewalk? I’m confused about that.

21) I knew that Raven was somehow going to be involved in the test just because of the trailers we got for the final episode. My two guesses for who the judge would be were Finn and Abby. Though I am happy that we got to see Abby again, I would be curious to see if the scene would have played out any differently if it had been Finn.

22) Where was the full line that was given in the trailer? Because that was amazing. “We’re selfish, and we’re violent, and we have destroyed too much, but we survived.” I loved that line far more than what we got instead, which was simply, “Have we made mistakes? Yes. Clarke, me, all of us, but we were just trying to survive.” I definitely would have chosen the former over the latter. Poor choice on the editors’ parts.

23) How the fuck did Octavia and Echo go out to the field and get Levitt with Echo only being shot once? With all the bullets, the three of them should have been torn apart, I don’t care how much Indra could cover Octavia. Calling bullshit on that as well.

24) Bringing this up kind of late because I’m giving my reviews as I’m rewatching the episode, but what they had Eliza do was really fucked up. Her and Bob suffered a miscarriage during the filming of season seven, so the scene of her holding Madi and crying “my baby” is like 10 times more heartbreaking. If they made her film that after having a miscarriage mere days, weeks or few months before, that’s really, really messed up.

25) They really played-up Sheidheda’s bringing back of “jus drein jus daun” in the trailer. In reality, it was far less intense. I would have preferred what I had been expecting, which was him coming to help convince Wonkru that they would be able to win. However, I am super glad that he is dead and Indra finally got to kill him. I love how that bigass gun just turns people into mist lol.

26) The beginning of Octavia’s speech was literally like “what the FUCK guys” and it was hilarious. And I swear to god if I hear her say “we are Wonkru” or “you are Wonkru” another time, I’m gonna scream. I know it was legit the last episode but I’m sick of it by now lol. When Indra was like “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Octavia’s face was just like “omg me too” and it was really funny.

27) Bellamy. His situation was a whole problem itself. He deserved a hell of a lot better and wHY DID HE CUT HIS HAIR I LIKED IT THE LONG WAY. Anyway, you can bet your ass I’ll be writing a different ending where he didn’t die because FUCK THAT. When I do, I’ll be sure to share it.

28) I’m fucking confused about Murphy and Emori both transcending. Because, what the fuck. Emori died. The dead don’t transcend. Her mind wasn’t even in her body, it was in Murphy’s. So how the fuck did she end up alive and in her own body again. I’m glad she’s alive, but I just don’t understand. It would have made way more sense to have either not had her die in the first place, or to have Murphy, Miller, and Jackson keep pumping her heart so she technically “lived” anyway like Echo.

29) If Madi had decided not to transcend, would she still have been paralyzed? I mean, I would assume not because Levitt and Hope’s gunshots were healed, as was Emori, but I’m curious. Also, wouldn’t Raven’s leg have been fixed? Because if they only fix recent wounds and not old ones, that’s stupid.

30) On the point of Madi deciding not to transcend, why did she? Why didn’t so many other people choose not to? Like, not one Eligius prisoner or person from Sanctum chose to live? No one else from Wonkru? Why didn’t anyone else other than the main cast and guest stars not transcend? I totally understand the Disciples transcending, but seriously, nobody else wanted to live? That’s really weird. Madi and her friends really couldn’t have chosen to live on Earth with Clarke and the others? I just think it’s really unrealistic that not one single person outside of the group chose not to transcend.

31) I was really surprised that Murphy and Emori chose not to transcend, because as the Judge said, they would eventually die and not join them in the infinite. It shocked me due to their fear of dying and wanting to be immortal, but I’m really proud of them.

32) I’m disappointed that those who don’t transcend can’t have children. There were suspicions that Emori might have been pregnant (which were never confirmed), but the idea of her and Murphy having a kid together was adorable. They’d have their teeny tiny families with those two, Hope and Jordan, and Octavia and Levitt.

33) This isn’t as much me pointing out a problem as me wondering, what was Clarke going to say to the Judge when she turned around? What else did she have to say or ask? Was it about Madi? Or maybe Lexa? Or just transcending in general?

34) It’s pretty shitty that some of our questions went unanswered due to the fact that there will be a prequel. On the other hand, I live for lore, so I’m just glad that they eventually will be answered. But still, that doesn’t excuse shitty writing.

35) I want to see a stupid edit of Picasso taking the test where the Judge is Madi.

I think we all know that season seven was really not what we wanted it to be. We’ve been really disappointed by the writers and unfortunately, this is what we got out of it. I believe they really could have done a better job, but I am at least glad that everyone ended up together.

The writing was lacking. Too many questions were left unanswered, I don’t care if you’re making a sequel or not. Plot holes. It really could have been a good season if it was done better.

My ranking of the seasons is as follows: 3, 2, 4, 1, 6, 5, 7. Seasons 4 and 1 are kind of interchangeable for me in spots three and four, as are 6 and 5 in the two spots behind them, whatever the order may be.

But I still love the show. I love the characters, their development, and many things about it. It has been quite the journey and I am glad to have been a fan of the show.

May we meet again.

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championofsanghelios · 4 years

Text

Personal AU Story - “Father and Son“

FATHER AND SON | A PERSONAL HEAD CANON STORY (NOTES AND THE END) Apologies for any errors/typos upfront. This was copied directly from the markdown document in question without the usual read-overs. -BOOM-

A loud explosion, the third of it's kind this morning, rattles through the Castles extensive grounds, seeming to shake the very trees around the perimeter, sending panicked birds in flocks into the air, fleeing whatever danger they sensed.

Captain Arol had been on patrol by the Sanctum Entrance when it went off the first time, followed by a second one....then the third. Several of the other Guards were looking on at whatever was causing it, however they weren't reacting in a way that suggested there was any danger.

Regardless of what was happening, Arol had to find out what was going on. The Princess had only just gotten the Castle Restored along with the rest of Castle Town. The Last thing she needed was someone blowing things up.

Walking into the center of the grounds, towards the large pond that was originally completely covered in reeds and flora of all kinds, he finds the source of the explosions quickly.

"...that's it...now throw it as far as you can!" Link says, helping a tiny purple scaled Zora child to throw one of his Shiekah Bombs from the Slate in to the water. It lands on the surface and bobs along for a moment. "Now press the button."

The Child presses the button and the Bomb explodes, half-submerged under the water, creating a plume of mist and a ground shaking boom. The Child laughs hysterically, jumping up and down on the spot with the slate in their hands.

"There you go!" Link laughs with him. "That's how it's done!"

"Big Boom! Big Boom!" Akau shouts. "Again! Again!"

At that moment, Link spots Arol watching them both. "Perhaps we should try something else... Magnesis maybe."

He presses a couple of buttons on the slates screen, which is covered in water droplets from the prior explosions. Then with a swipe of the screen, he reaches over his shoulder and pulls the Sword of Time, scabbard and all from his back.

Holding it over the waters edge, he drops it in with a loud splash. Feigning shock and worry. "Oh no! I've just dropped my sword into the water, and I can't swim. Won't someone help me get it out of there?"

Akau just giggles. "You are a tewwible actor, Daddy."

"Who told you that?" Link eeps back, with mock offense. "I'm the best actor this side of Hyrule."

"You even worse than papa Dowephan." Akau says, all teeth and smiles. "Do not fear. Akau is here."

As Link proceeds to show him how to operate the Magnesis function, a Zoran Guard comes walking over beside Arol and stops just next to him. Bazz shoves a hand under the hood of his armor, rubbing at his head-fin. "So that's what the explosions were all about, huh?"

"You heard them too?" Arol glances his way. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was." Bazz chuckles. "Until I heard several explosions go off in quick succession. Thought we were under attack."

"Honestly I don't know what's more dangerous." Arol says a little louder so Akau and his Father can hear. "Bokoblin's baring down upon us, or a Father, his son and a Shiekah Slate."

"Just be thankful he has his father's restraint." Link says, smirking over his left shoulder. "He doesn't go around licking or biting new things."

"Oh the Prince does plenty of that...you just don't see it." Bazz comments.

He glances Arol's way. "What are they doing anyway?"

"Well...I don't know." Arol shrugs. "I guess the boy is just bored."

"I do feel for the three of them sometimes." Bazz says, deliberately lowering his voice to keep the conversation between the two of them. "Back in the Domain, they can have fun...but his Majesty is so hell-bent on protecting his relations that he refuses to let Akau anywhere out of the boundaries without a full regiment of guards."

"Seriously?" Arol looks at him, eyes widening a fraction. "What's he so scared of, Lanayru is practically clear of most threats these days."

"You're forgetting he lost his daughter, the Crown Princess." Bazz replies. "I don't know exactly what happened afterwards, but everything was incredibly strict after that...the Guard had to be on the Prince's six at all times, not a moment was to go by where they couldn't see him in some respect. When I joined things were as they were...but as time went on, and I was promoted to Sargent, then Captain, it all seemed to lax a little."

"What about now, though?" Arol asks, shrugging. "I mean, we've not been as safe as we are now in over a hundred years. There truly isn't much that can scare him that much is there? I mean...Akau's in good hands, the Prince too."

"Our protection also extends to Link." Bazz replies, he notices Link glance their way at the mention of his name, but he returns his attention to what he's doing. "Upon his marriage to the Crown Prince, he inherited his titles and authority."

"What, so he's technically Zoran Royalty?" Arol looks over at Link, then back at Bazz. "You're shitting me."

"He IS Zoran Royalty..." Bazz sighs. "And the Kings paranoia over his families safety unfortunately extends to him in some regards. Whenever he's at the Domain, the King is anxious to keep him where he is. To his credit, he respects his other commitments, but he does make it clear that he wishes for him to stay and be with his people."

"Explains the sudden lack of appearances around here recently." Arol nods in thought. "Not only is he out there saving us from goddess only knows what, he's back at the Domain being a Prince and a Father..."

"Has he told you why he married Sidon?" Bazz asks next, a question that admittedly catches Arol off guard. Honestly he'd never thought about it much, it wasn't really his business anyway. "The reasoning behind it?"

"I never thought it my business to know." he replies simply.

"He married the Prince because he knew that he'd live for centuries." Bazz says. "And being of the nature he is..."

"Yeah...I never got the chance to ask him about all that Inheritor stuff."

The two of them look ahead as Akau and Link let out a couple of cheers.

"Yeah!" Link grabs the Sword of Time from the Magnesis field that Akau is controlling. "Well Done!!"

"I like this!" Akau shouts, before seeming to shift where he's standing.

"Whoa there, little prince." Link places the Sword to the side and takes a hold of him, gently removing the Shiekah Slate from his hand and attaching it to his belt. "You getting tired?"

Akau nods slowly, letting out a tiny yawn. Link only has to reach out to him and climbs into his arms. He picks up the Sword as he stands up and starts making his way up to the Sanctum.

He stops by the two Guardsmen watching them. "Did one of you mention me?"

"No." Bazz smirks knowingly. "We were just talking about the fabrication of chains."

"What?" Link looks at him funny, raising an eyebrow.

"Awol..." Akau reaches out with his tiny arm, making a weak attempt at a wave, which is followed by another yawn.

"Nice work getting that Sword out of the water, little one." Arol smiles as he lets the young Zora takes a hold of one of his index finger. "I'm not sure how your old man would have been able to function without it."

"You did a damn sight better than your Father, young one." Bazz says just beside him. "Shatterback was an embarrassment."

"Ain't that the truth." Link snorts. "Speaking of...where is Sidon right now?"

"Sanctum Library last I checked." Bazz says with a shrug. "Totika and Oz were with him."

"You wanna go and see Dad before I take you to bed?" Link asks Akau who is already have asleep, head resting on his shoulder. "We haven't seen much of him today."

"Yeah." Akau mumbles nodding weakly.

"Alright then, let's hurry on before you fall asleep." Link says, nodding to the Arol and Bazz before heading off on his way.

"You know..." Arol watches them for a moment longer before looking back at Bazz. "I never saw him as the parent type...I have to say I'm pleasantly surprised."

"I thought the same thing about the Prince." Bazz says after a pause. "I even had doubts. I am so glad to have been proven wrong."

... NOTES | - So this is a part of a larger universe created by ErisHDiscordia (my writing partner, and co-creator). The versions we have put been uploading to Archive of Our Own will likely never reach this level of depth, but you never know... - In this story, Link has become the Inheritor of Time. Where did he get such a title? That is such mystery...I wonder -hums thoughtfully. He’s also married to Prince Sidon who at this point in the stories I’ve written has fathered a young Zoran child with him and is preparing to become King of Zorana (sort of). - How did Link have a child with Sidon? - It’s a long and complicated process and one I won’t get into for the sake of brevity. (this post is already long enough.) - The Sword that Link “dropped” into the pond is The Sword of Time, a blade that was used by the Hero of Time to travel across the years. (That is another head-canon I shall spare you for the sake of post length.) “Do not fear, Akau is here!” ^.^

#sidlink #link #bazz #original characters #loz #botw au #botw

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travllingbunny · 4 years

Text

The 100: 7x07 The Queen’s Gambit

I owe you all the reviews for episodes 7x07, 7x08 and 7x09, the only ones I didn’t have the time to write after the episodes aired. (I only posted My authentic live reactions to 7x07.) Now I’m on my annual leave (since yesterday... well, technically, from tomorrow) so finally I’m gonna post them before the show returns. During this mini hiatus, @jeanie205 and me have been doing a joint rewatch of season 7, and we’ve reached 7x08 (which I’ll be posting a review of tomorrow).

Unpopular opinion - I quite liked this one. Roughly on the same level as the previous two episodes, maybe even slightly more as there was nothing major that really bugged me this time. I like it when the show takes a break from the plot and exposition to focus on characters, and this one had some character moments I really enjoyed (in particular for Emori, Octavia, Diyoza and Hope) and the show addressed some of the long-standing issues I’ve had with some of the previous events (such as Octavia’s beating of Bellamy in season 3 or Madi taking the Flame in season 5). It certainly helps that Emori and Diyoza have always been among my favorite characters and that Octavia has become one of my favorites with her amazing development over the last few seasons. One of those “addressing previous issues” things was the Becho flashback (as the lack of flashbacks for that relationship has been rightfully criticized) was OK and in line with what we know of this relationship. Even Nelson’s characterization made sense this time.

There are a couple of things I’m not sure how I feel about, and the big “reveal” at the end was hardly a reveal to anyone in the hardcore fandom, but was still necessary. The pacing of this season hasn’t been the best for sure, but I think I wouldn’t have had any problems if the momentum from the end of this episode - with Clarke and co. arriving on Bardo and learning about Bellamy’s “death”, followed by Cadogan being woken up from the cryo sleep - and the backdoor pilot was followed by getting directly into present day action and involving Clarke and the rest of the Nakara group in what’s going on. I think it was mostly 7x09 and the completely unnecessary flashbacks that really ruined it and made me lose patience with the season.

I loved the mother/daughter conversation between the two Dizoyas in this episode, which was emotional and also touched on the show’s crucial themes of violence and morality. These two haven’t seen each other in what was just about a month for the mother, but 15 years for the daughter. Diyoza is treating Hope as a child, because that is what she is for her, which frustrates Hope - a dynamic that many will find familiar - though in this case, it’s a bit more understandable as Diyoza hasn’t seen Hope since she was 10, and secondly, she is right that Hope is still naive in some respects as she hasn’t had a chance to meet that many people and experience that much. But that is partly a consequence of Diyoza sheltering Hope from the knowledge about her own life before Skyring. (Hope even threw Dev in her face - explicitly calling him her father - as her other parent figure, one who did teach her to fight and try to prepare her for the real world.) And Diyoza getting upset that Hope came to Bardo to rescue her - as she saw it her role to save her (“I was coming to save you”) was not logical - she knows how time dilation works, so she should know that Hope would have been long dead by that time, if she hadn’t come to Bardo. Hope was right when she pointed out that the real problem is that her mother wanted Hope to be innocent, the way she isn’t, and that she is upset to see that Hope has become a killer, too. Diyoza was driven both to protect Hope in the physical sense and to protect her innocence - and, as she finally admits here, she wanted Hope to see her in a different light than everyone else does. We’ve already seen in season 6 that Diyoza is really unhappy about her legacy and her past and the idea that everyone sees her as a killer and terrorist. I’ve never thought she should have paid much attention to what Russell Lightbourne of all people said her place in “history books” was (which history books? The Sanctum ones? He left Earth shortly after Diyoza was arrested), but it’s clear that the reason she took it so hard is because she herself feels bad about her past actions. She thinks goal was right, but her methods were not - as she ended up killing innocent people. “Doing the right thing the wrong way isn’t doing the right thing”. She is a jaded character who can do violence better than anyone - in a tactical way and only as much as necessary, rather than impulsively or out of bloodlust - and she still does it, but who hates it at the same time, which is why she puts hope (!) in her daughter to be different. When she tells Hope “Violence and rage will destroy your soul, revenge is a game with no winners”, it feels like this is the show working towards its final messages in its final season.

If the prequel gets green lit, I hope we get more Charmaine Diyoza backstory in flashbacks and learn what was going in pre-apocalypse. In season 5, she said she was fighting a fascist government, and in this scene, we got a few more backstory crumbs, such as that everyone she loved died in wars, some of which “did not need to be fought”. I want to know what the Battle of San Francisco was - the one where Diyoza apparently saved people and was considered a hero for - and what later made her rebel against the government. We also get a McCreary mention when Diyoza finally decides it is time to disclose the full ugly truth to Hope - who and what he was and what he did, which the audience already knew, and the new info for us, that the reason why she had sex with him was to get him on her side during the uprising. (Which, I believe, is the first time anyone on the show has admitted that sex may sometimes be motivated by manipulative reasons.)

Octavia comforting Echo is a scene that got a lot of criticism. But I think this is a really good scene for Octavia and her character development. No, Octavia hugging Echo and telling her she is her family isn’t inconsistent with the fact that Octavia has never liked Echo (and was open about it in how she talked to Hope about her) or that these two characters were never anywhere near being friends, even when they stopped being outright enemies. This is simply Octavia letting go off all grudges and seeing herself and Echo as united in grief,, and is accepting Echo as family because she was in her brother’s life. And she is also now able to empathize with people instead of judging them, seeing the echoes of her how she herself felt after Lincoln’s death.

What particularly meant a lot for me is that the show has finally addressed her beating of Bellamy in season 3 and that Octavia expressed regret about it. That’s something I had been waiting for, for 4 years. That controversial scene had become even more upsetting over time because of the amount of fanon built around it in fandom wars. Such as the Bellamy-haters attempt to justify it and claim that he “deserved it” and even attempt to blame him for Lincoln’s death, ignoring the fact that Bellamy had tried ti save Lincoln and turned his back on Pike after Lincoln, Kane and Sinclair were sentenced to death, and offered Octavia his help - but she distrusted him, knocked him out and chained him up in a cave and went to save Lincoln by herself. On the other hand, I’ve now seen people criticize Octavia saying “And he let me” and argue that he was “helpless” as he was chained up - which is again ignoring canon, since Miller and others wanted to interfere and stop the beating, by Bellamy kept telling them to stay away. It’s been argued that Bellamy let her do it because he felt guilty. but while there may have been some of that, I've always thought the main reason because he realized she needed it, she needed to blame someone else and take it out on someone else, and Pike was not around. And more importantly, she needed to blame Bellamy in order not to blame herself for failing to rescue him, in order not to think “If only I had done this differently..”. Bellamy started telling her in 3x13: "I came to you, I offered help. If you had only..." and then he saw her look and stopped himself and left, realizing what he was about to say. Octavia sees his motives the same way, saying he let her because she knew he needed it, but she isn’t using this to justify herself. She can now acknowledge her mistakes and take responsibility, and show compassion for someone in a similar situation. It’s not just about grief and losing a loved one - Octavia is now a different person and does not react to losing Bellamy (as she believes) in the same violent, desperate way. Octavia saw Lincoln as her “home” at the time. Echo saw Bellamy as her leader and made saving him her mission for 5 years, and Octavia realizes she must be blaming herself for failing at it. She tells her "It’s not your fault" because she blamed herself when she did not save Lincoln.

The show has been criticized (with good reason) for developing the Bellamy/Echo relationship off-screen during a time jump, and showing a flashback in season 7 could be seen as the show ticking off another box. But the flashback’s main purpose here is clearly to comment on Echo’s storyline this season - specifically, on the issue of loyalty as her main motive (or her tendency to always look for someone to follow, as she herself has said to herself through her hallucinations). The most important lines in the scene are Bellamy telling her “Loyalty is your weakness” and, after she replies it is not, “It is, when it makes us do things we know are wrong”. To paraphrase Indra from a previous episode - loyalty is not a weakness, blind loyalty is. (I will go with the least cynical of the several interpretations I’ve seen floating around of what Bellamy meant when he followed this with a question “Do you think you can be loyal to us?” I think he thought that, as a “shapeshifter”, as he called her, he and the Spacekru can influence her to accept their values and not be a ruthless killer as she was taught to be by Queen Nia.)

Still, there’s a lot that can be deduced from this scene regarding Bellamy’s mindset on the Ring and the Bellamy/Echo dynamic in general - though it’s more of a confirmation of the things we have noticed before. What strikes me the most about this scene is that it may be the least romantic first kiss scene I’ve seen, at least out of those that resulted in a long-term relationship. It feels more like a recruitment scene - and most of the dialogue is about Echo’s and Bellamy’s relative character strengths and weaknesses, and whether Echo can be a loyal part of Bellamy’s team. Echo does look softer and more vulnerable and insecure than we’re used to seeing her, and very surprised that Bellamy is forgiving her for things she herself was afraid he never would be able to (such as betraying him at MW - which led to his previous girlfriend’s death, or trying to kill his sister), let alone show interest in a relationship with her. But Bellamy is a far cry from the emotional man we see interacting with Clarke, either in seasons 1-4 or in seasons 5-6. He is calm, composed, he wants to move on from the past, and when he kisses Echo, it feels like a moment of decision. The Ring!Bellamy has spent 3 years in peace, without needing to protect anyone - as there are no outside threats. He has mourned Clarke, believing that she died saving them all and he left her behind. He feels that his sister is his “weakness” (”love is weakness” - Echo calls it his strength), but his guiding motivation is still to go back to Earth and reunite with her. It’s not the first time Bellamy has lamented the power that his feelings for his sister have over him - in season 4, he described himself as pathetic as always coming back after she had treated him so badly. (Is this a part of the reason why he’s only ever had romantic and/or sexual relationships with women that he doesn’t have such powerful feelings for - unlike Clarke, who is also his ‘weakness’ and the only person for whom he has feelings strong enough to rival those for his sister?) In season 6, Bellamy will criticize Echo for not being emotionally open as he said she was on the Ring. As we know, she was not fully emotionally open on the Ring, either, as she never told him her backstory (he notes here that she doesn’t like talking about herself), but I can kind of see what he meant - she was a lot softer, and going back to the ground and back into the center of action made her go back into the emotionless soldier mode, which is her default survival mode. And for Bellamy, going to the ground, on the other hand, meant being caught again in a swirl of all the emotions - learning Clarke was alive and reuniting with her, seeing a very changed Octavia, having to fight and kill and do things to protect people again - we saw him change from this laid-back Bellamy in 5x01 and become more emotional, throughout seasons 5 and 6. The Ring, with its 6 years of peace and boredom, was like a vacuum - and Echo saw it as something that was “not real” and their relationship as one that’s specific to the Ring and that wouldn’t survive on the ground. One thing that this flashback revealed is how long they had been dating - it seems that “forgiving” was synonymous with “starting to date” (they really spent no time being friends), which makes it all the more astounding that, after 3 years of dating, Echo had the exact same insecurities in 5x01, believing that their relationship would not survive on the ground. In this scene here, Bellamy wasn’t even trying to reassure her - he instead used a kiss to shut her up and make her ignore those concerns. There is a development in their relationship - as Bellamy here calls Spacekru a team, a unit, and wants Echo to be a part of it, and Bellamy in 5x01, three years later, calls them and Echo his “family”. He certainly started to care about her deeply. But at no point does he mention love, and he certainly doesn’t look like a man in love.

But while it’s clear what the main themes of Echo’s character arc are, I have to say that I have no idea where exactly this arc is going. Will she learn to have some sort of identity outside loyalty to Azgeda or Bellamy or anyone else? Can she stop being a soldier and a killer, or is the point of her arc that some people can never change? Will she ever examine the morality of her actions the way Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia have been doing, and as Diyoza does in this same episode? I can’t say I’m fully sure what the dramatic moment of Echo slashing her face Azgeda-style meant. All I can say is that it seems to point out that 1) she has been shaped as a person by her Azgeda warrior upbringing in her childhood and this is her main identity she will probably never let go off, and 2) the way she said the scars mean the pain has stopped but you will never forget makes me think she has revenge on her mind. But this wouldn’t be very different of what we already saw her do impulsively in 7x05. Everyone expects Echo to be out for revenge against the Disciples - so it might be more interesting if she really decided to fight for them because she needs that in her life.

We also see Gabriel’s recruitment - the episode’s opening scene, with a pretty straightforward combination of both carrot and stick: come join us and explore the universe, something you’ve been obsessed with for over a hundred years, and oh, the alternative is getting executed, and your friends potentially getting executed. Gabriel is driven by both his scientific curiosity and a wish to save Echo/Hope/Octavia. He genuinely wanted to save them, but he also took away their choice and did it against their will and feels bad about betraying them - another one of those tricky situations in the show where someone betrays someone out of the desire to save their life.

As the Disciples are sending Orlando’s body to Nakara, we see Gabriel do his own ritual of saying “Death is life” as he did for Josephine. Conspiracy theorists were very excited about the fact that we don’t see Orlando’s dead body, but I’d say that simply means the show didn’t want to call the actor back and pay him for appearing as a dead body for 2 seconds.

An unexpectedly funny moment was Anders saying, in reference to Orlando’s death: “I think we need to rethink our penal system” (ya think?) - Neal McDonough’s face was just perfect in that moment. And Gabriel is getting back some of his tendency for snarky one-liners that we haven’t seen much since the first half of season 6 (his only question about being a Disciple is “Do I get a robe?” )

I have no idea why the show, in the following episodes. treats the characters’ decisions to join the Disciples as a big mystery that needed flashbacks to be explained. Anders directly threatened Gabriel and Diyoza, Hope, Octavia and Echo thought they would be executed or tortured, until Echo realized they wanted to recruit them (which was becoming obvious from the nice treatment they were getting - Octavia was even allowed to read a book). It’s not like any of them had a choice, and joining the Disciples and pretending to be loyal is the obvious way to go.

Another instance of the show commenting on its previous controversial storyline: when Jackson tells Madi that Bellamy convincing her in S5 to take the Flame was not right even though it was also true that it was the only way to save Clarke. Fans tend to take extreme positions on this one - either it was unambiguously bad or it was the right thing - so I’m glad to see the show admitting the complexity of that situation, and that some things can be both necessary and morally wrong - especially since season 5 seemed to treat Commander!Madi as an unambiguously good thing. Seasons 6 and 7 have since gone a long way to acknowledge that making the Grounder tradition of 12 old Commanders is pretty messed up.

I do wonder though, just like Emori did in this episode, since when is Jackson is shrink. He’s a surgeon, and neither he nor Abby have ever shown much in the way of understanding about mental health issues before.

I’ve always loved Emori - back when she was first introduced, because she was a morally ambiguous but sympathetic antiheroine with a developed backstory and because her relationship with Murphy initially subvert the “redemption for the love of a good woman” trope. Both she and the relationship have since developed and changed a lot. Emori started out cynical, distrustful of people and bent on her own survival, due to having such a tough life since she was a child cast out for the way she was born, but over the seasons, she has found love, a “family”, developed new skills, and learned what it is like to be cared, loved and respected by others - and she has become a much more idealistic character. She’s adapted to the new situation - having to pretend to be a Prime - much better than Murphy. Murphy says (and Sheidheda later echoes that) that it is because she enjoys being worshiped - and I’m sure that’s a part of the reason (and is very understandable - as someone who was thrown away like garbage as a child and an outcast for most of her life, of course she would enjoy adoration, even if it is for directed at someone she is only pretending to be), but she is happily embracing her role mostly because she can use that newfound privilege and power to do something good - and to try to heal an old emotional wound, trying to do reunite the CoG with their parents who rejected them for being nulls. She will never get a chance to learn if her own parents would be able to un-learn their own brainwashing, regret their actions and have an emotional reunion with her - but she clearly wants to believe they would. This episode may be hammering that point a bit too much with having Jackson analyze her actions - when it’s already obvious and she also straight up tells all that to Nelson, making a parallel between his and her fate, the “nulls” and “Frikdreinas”, both rejected as abominations for their DNA, (When Nelson does his angry-stubborn thing and tells her “You know nothing about me”, it reminded me of Emori’s conversation with Clarke in 4x07, when she said “You know nothing of my pain”.) Unfortunately - while Emori tells Murphy: “The way out of hell is paved with good deeds” - what happens ends up being in line with the proverb “The way to hell is paved with good intentions”. We see some of the old, sly Emori when she tricks Nelson into drinking so she could use his DNA to match him with his parents. But her new idealism makes her underestimate just how horrible people can be.

As I said in my immediate reactions, Nelson’s father is the worst. I really don’t want to judge if it is realistic that people can be so horrible and so brainwashed... sadly, it probably is. And to be fair, everyone else at that event seemed to be OK, but it’s enough for one a-hole to ruin everything. In any case, that scene was quite strong and well-acted on the part of Lee Majdoub as Nelson (aka Sachin). Unlike in the last episode, Nelson’s characterization made sense this time. His reasoning does not (and Nikki - who is not an interesting antagonist but whose motivations at least make sense - points out the exact same thing I wondered about 7x06, what kind of justice is he looking for now that all the Primes are gone?), he’s not a very rational character, but you can see where he was coming from emotionally, reacting to what happened.

It was weird, though, that he immediately started talking in the name of all Children of Gabriel and making decisions for them. In season 6, they seemed more like a bunch of people with different ideas who disagreed a lot, but now they seem to be another group that blindly follows a leader.

One thing I enjoyed better the first time were the Murphy and Sheidheda scenes. I really didn’t realize where it was going the first time I watched the episode, but knowing what it’s all about and that Shady is just stalling - it makes sense, but it also makes these scene drag on during a rewatch. Yes, Sheidheda is portrayed as a master manipulator (I think he is the first antagonist in this show who can be said to be one), and he found all the right ways to get to Murphy - calling him out on his desire to be a hero and desire to be loved (both of which Murphy always wants to deny), threatening his “queen” Emori, trying to play on Murphy’s concerns about the fact Emori is more adaptable than him, and, most of all, tricks Murphy into trying to play a mind game with him and prove something, try to outsmart him. But when you already know where it’s all going, it feels like those could have been a bit shorter. Maybe instead we could have had a couple more scenes showing what was up with Octavia, Echo, Hope and Diyoza, so they wouldn’t dedicate an entire episode (7x09) to that. But maybe putting a couple of flashbacks (around 5-10 minutes) at the beginning of 7x09 and then getting on with the present day Bardo action (i.e. whatever is gonna happen in 7x10) would have been an even better solution.

As with “Hesperides”, I’m still not sure why this episode has the title it has and if I’ve been overthinking it. Surely it can’t just be so literal and refer only to Murphy’s move in the chess game between him and Sheidheda? I expected a metaphor about sacrificing a pawn, someone or something of yours that you see as less important, to gain something else, and/or empower your strongest player. I can’t really think of anything in this episode that really fits that. Unless it refers to something else that’s yet to happen this season.

One minor thing that doesn’t make much sense to me was Murphy mentioning Lexa to try to make Sheidheda feel bad, by pointing out her popularity (”everyone loves her”) and his unpopularity. I’m confused by this, because it feels like a big retcon, or a case of the writers starting to confuse Lexa’s popularity in the fandom with her status in-universe. It was a major plot point that everyone was turning against her in season 3 (Nia challenged her and all the other clan leaders sided with Nia and almost voted Lexa down, a Trikru farmer tried to assassinate her, her Flamekeeper was worried that her people would turn against her...) I suppose we’re meant to think her popularity has risen since she died - that seemed to be how it was portrayed in season 4 - but even if that were the case, how much would Murphy know about it? He was only in Polis for a short time in season 3 (pre-ALIE) and mostly interacted with Titus and Ontari, spent season 4 hanging out with Skaikru, was not in the bunker and never got to spend much time with Wonkru. Are we to think that he learned of Lexa’s popularity with Wonkru during these few days on Sanctum in season 7? But as we’ve seen, Sheidheda is not really universally hated among Wonkru and still has stans at least in his own clan, Sangedakru. Sheidheda, on his part, correctly points out that Lexa was killed by a Flamekeeper, just as he was. He says it was because they were afraid of his “ideas” - not explaining what ideas those were, and says Lexa also was... Which also isn’t exactly what happened: Titus was not afraid of Lexa’s ideas, he was afraid she was listening to Clarke and Clarke’s ideas too much.

We get a minor Bardo time jump of 3 months in the middle of the episode. I have no idea at which point in the Sanctum timeline this or that part of the Bardo storyline happened - they are clearly not being shown chronologically, as the Bardo part of the episodes 7x05-7x06 probably lasted for a few (Bardo) hours.

Gabriel is apparently now a Level 3 Disciple and works on the "cipher” team. I guess the Disciples value scientific people more than soldier Disciples, since Echo, Octavia and Diyoza still don’t seem to be even Level 1 based on the lack of symbols on their faces, and Levitt is somehow Level 11. Since they have been working on the codes for thousands of (Bardo) years, I’m surprised that the Disciples haven’t managed to do more. According to another team member, the last big discovery was before he was born and it was a 10 digit code that allows them to “harness the power of what you call the Anomaly.

We get new info in this episode as the final code they are looking for is supposed to help them achieve “transcendence” aka “the final evolution of the species” (which they believe the beings who made the Anomaly Stones had done) and help them win the “last war”, and I assume that the transcendence has something to do with the white light that was seen when Becca typed the 7 symbol combination she only managed to find because she had the Flame in her head, and whatever she saw on the other side - which must be something different from the regular green light that appears when a bridge to another planet is opened. Cadogan’s questions to Anders after waking up were: "Have we cracked the code? Has the war begun?" It's a bit frustrating that the show keep withholding the info - what is the last war, who is it fought against? Is it even a physical war? I guess it must be at least partially, as they train and they want to recruit people like Echo, Octavia, Diyoza. But is that all?

Such a funny contrast between the star-struck, adoring Anders and an almost bored Cadogan, who first asks, after seeing who woke him up: “You again?” Having seen 7x08, I wonder if maybe Cadogan is not impressed by people who worship him without question and try to please him -as his son did (as opposed to his daughter). Anders keep calling him the “Shepherd” and Cadogan says his trademark line “Call me Bill”. He must have told him that before, if Anders had already woken him up before. Or he just doesn’t like to be woken up more often than once in a few decades or a century, since he says he was woken up “this early”.

I really like the way Clarke’s reaction to hearing about Bellamy’s “death” was portrayed. There was some debate about the fact that Lindsey Morgan, the director of the episode, first wanted to have Clarke fall to her knees, and that Jason overruled her - and I have to say I agree with him. Focusing on Clarke’s face and seeing the shock and gradual realization on her face felt a lot less melodramatic and a lot more real.

A couple of interesting things I’ve noticed: Cadogan has a picture of pre-apocalypse “Polis” (Baltimore?) on Level 13 where his cryo is.

I was first under the impression that Madi’s drawing we see in this episode showed Becca going into the Anomaly, then when I saw it showed multiple people, that it was the Second Dawn members leaving Earth. But after rewatching Anaconda, I think this is the scene when Becca activated the Stone and everyone (Becca, Bill, Grace, Callie and Reese) stood there around it, talking about it. So, probably another one of Becca’s memories.

Rating: 7.5/10

#the 100 #the 100 7x07 #the queen's gambit #the 100 season 7 #emori #octavia blake #charmaine diyoza #hope diyoza #john murphy #clarke griffin #madi griffin #bill cadogan #gabriel santiago

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itsreallylaterightnow · 4 years

Text

Now All Our Memories (They’re Haunted)

Author’s Note:

Alrightyyyyy so here it is!!!

A painful one-shot!

This is an AU of Journey's End - the saddest Doctor Who episode ever

I hope you enjoy

Also, biggest thanks to @notapartytrickparker for being my incredible Beta!! You mean the world to me! <3

Peter grabbed a wrench from Tony’s bench and rolled his chair back over to his work table. May had a big charity event on Sunday, so Peter had decided to spend his weekend with Mr. Stark. The man had invited him over to help work on a car that he recently bought. It was a fixer upper, but that’s what the two loved about it.

They would talk about life. Mr. Stark never seemed to be able to leave Peter alone when it came to talking about Michelle. He made jokes or teased Peter about kissing her. Peter would just blush – a bright and hot horrible blush. Then they would talk about college. Peter was a junior now, and closer to needing to make a decision than ever. He hated having to think about his future. Sure, he knew he was smart. He knew that he would regret it if he decided to skip out on college, but he loved to be Spider-Man. He loved swinging through the streets of New York, stopping kids from walking in front of cars and keeping peole safe on their walks. He wanted to stay in the city and focus on web-slinging. But between May, Mr. Stark, and Michelle – there was no way that was going to happen. The three of them agreed that he needed to experience college, to go and learn and be young. Mr. Stark pushed MIT, of course. The man would say how easily he could get Peter in. He would offer to pay his way completely, take care of May while Peter was gone. And he really wanted to. Peter desperately wanted to go to MIT and learn more, be challenged. The more he thought about it… well his chest would get all tight and his hands would shake, and tears would slowly fill his eyes. Because he had gotten a second chance. When Mr. Stark had snapped – Peter knew that he was going to die. Peter could hear Mr. Stark’s heart slowly fading out. Could feel the man’s life slowly leaving him, and it had crushed him. Peter was still having nightmares about that day. Stephen Strange had stepped in just at the right time. Doctor Strange and Shuri had rushed Mr. Stark to Wakanda, gotten to work healing the man. It took too long. There was a period of time – days that felt like years as Peter sat on a chair waiting for someone to come in and tell him that Mr. Stark hadn’t made it. That their attempts had been futile.

Then Shuri had come in, smile on her face. She had explained that they had done it. He lost his arm in the process, but she was already working on a replacement for it. He was awake and he was going to be okay.

And yeah, since then, the idea of leaving Mr. Stark, of not being right beside the man all of the time caused Peter to freak out. Because what would happen if he were in a life-or-death situation and Peter wasn’t there? He couldn’t be the reason Mr. Stark died. He wouldn’t let it happen.

Peter was so caught up in his thoughts, that it took Mr. Stark physically shaking his shoulder for him to hear the alarms. His mentor had a strained look on his face.

“Suit up,” he said, before tapping his chest-plate. Peter gulped before he reached for his backpack, ripping out his suit. He slipped easily into it, pressing the spider-symbol as the material tightened around his body.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked as Tony stood still. “Shouldn’t we be going … well, wherever the fight is?”

“We’ve got a ride coming. Listen.” The faceplate on Tony’s suit flipped up – his face wrought with hard lines, worry evident in his eyes. “This is going to be dangerous. Strange requested the both of us, but you stay out of the way. We’ve got a rogue sorcerer in the New York sanctum. He’s after the time stone – I swear on my life I’m sick of those damn stones – and Strange needs our help with this one. But you – you stay out of the way. Web him up from the side. Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to explain to your aunt that I got you shish-kabobbed on our lab weekend,” Tony teased, but Peter could feel the worry radiating off the man.

“Got it. Stay out of the way. Web him up from the side. No big deal.” Peter was about to make another joke when his senses pricked.

A gold circle formed in the lab, and Peter caught sight of Strange, a cut to his forehead and stress wilting his face. Tony flipped the faceplate down and nodded at Peter.

“Well, are you two coming or not? I don’t have all the time in the world, Stark.”

“Well, technically you do-“

“Shut up and get in here.” Tony nodded, and the two jumped through the ring.

Peter figured he never would get over the strangeness of being in one location and then suddenly being a completely new one, but he couldn’t think about that right now. The sanctum was a wreck.

Ancient artifacts had been knocked over; glass was everywhere. Peter looked and saw that Doctor Strange was looking pretty terrible – it made sense that he called the two of them in.

“What’s this guy’s deal?” Peter asked. They were on the top floor of the sanctum and Peter looked down the massive staircase to see the man in question.

“He used to be head of this Sanctum, surprise-suprise, he went dark side and he wants the stone for God-knows-what.” Strange’s voice was bitter as he prepared himself for the next attack. Peter nodded, as the man who had previously been on the floor forced himself to stand.

He was tall and burly. His hair was greasy enough to make Peter think he couldn’t have showered in weeks. His eyes were dark – too dark. Like something was shifting behind them, an ocean in a storm – restless and unforgiving.

“I… will get that stone.” He said, and then he was flying – literally – forward. Peter jumped onto the railing, shooting a web at the man. It connected with his shoulder as Mr. Stark shot out a beam. The sorcerer opened a portal and the beam went straight through it as Peter yanked down. The man began to fall, but he used a spell to create some strange glowy-sword and sliced straight through Peter’s web. Strange made his own… Peter really needed to think of a better word than “glowy sword”, but it was all he had now. The two met – face to face. Their weapons clashing in an onslaught of sparks. Tony and Peter gave one another a small nod – and they dove into the fight.

The battle went on for too long. Logically, the three of them should have been able to take care of this sorcerer with no problem, but he was no second-rate wizard. He could open portal after portal, in such a precise way to catch Mr. Stark’s repulsor beams and Peter’s webs, and it almost rendered them useless. Strange was going hand to hand, but things weren’t looking good.

Then things went from “not looking good” to “absolutely detrimental”. Because in one, swift move, the Sorcerer clocked Stephen in the side of the head with a glowing club. Doctor Strange dropped like a rock, hitting the ground with a thud that caused Peter’s heart to race.

“Kid! Get the wizard away!” Tony cried, his voice robotic. Peter immediately shot a web, pulling Doctor Strange away from what would have been a deadly blow from the Sorcerer. Tony stepped in, throwing everything he had into the battle.

Peter knelt beside Stephen, tapping the man’s face.

“Doctor Strange? Hey, um, didn’t your mom ever tell you it was rude to fall asleep when you’ve invited people over for a fight?” Peter opened his mouth to keep talking, but Stephen let out a grunt.

“If you keep speaking, I’ll send you to Antarctica.” He grunted; his eyes still closed as his face twisted into a grimace.

“Yeah… I would last, like, two minutes – you know, spider DNA and all.” Stephen just grunted again.

And damn himself because Peter should have paid attention. Damn himself because in no way should he have allowed it to happen. Because his spider-sense alerted him one second too late. And Peter turned and what he saw had him bending over in pain . Gasping because this was supposed to be a simple fight. It was one sorcerer. One. They had fought a mad Titan and his entire army, and they had won… so he should not be looking at Mr. Stark, gripping the sorcerer’s shoulders with a look of shock on his face. He should not be seeing the sorcerer holding a sword – found on the floor of the sanctum – punctured straight through Tony’s abdomen. He should not be seeing blood – too much blood – pouring into the room.

But he was. And it was happening, and he wanted to scream at Doctor Strange to fucking GET UP!

“Mr. Stark!” But the man didn’t look at him.

And Stephen was still down, sporting a profusely bleeding head wound, his eyes closed. Peter knew that he wasn’t going to be any help right now. And Peter, for the first time, was noticing that the time stone had been knocked loose from its hold.

Peter had started to pride himself on his decision-making skills. Sure, he still made poor choices, and got in trouble on the regular – but he really wasn’t as stupid as he used to be. He didn’t throw himself in the way of every harmful being coming at him.

But this was different.

Because Mr. Stark was on the ground now, and Peter could hear his gasping breaths and his heart slowing – and he could not do that again. The sorcerer was looking at him now – his eyes black with rage. Peter wasn’t much of one for violence. He used webs in order to keep from killing people, he did his best to pull his punches… but not right now. Now was the time to make his punches hurt.

The sorcerer lunged forwards, but Peter was faster. He grabbed the stone, his arm screaming as the pain began to unravel. He had watched Strange use the stone over and over again – he had seen Mr. Stark almost die when he wielded all six, and honestly – Peter had no desire to suffer the curses that the stones gave out. But he would not let Tony die again – not on his watch.

The sorcerer smirked as he came at Peter with the sword – still dripping with Mr. Stark’s blood.

Peter felt the stone then, although it didn’t speak to him, it provided a sudden wave of clarity that made him certain of what he had to do.

He pulled the Time stone back and snapped his fingers – just like Tony had. The exact thing that Mr. Stark had done that had almost gotten him killed. And Peter understood that – if he lived – Mr. Stark would officially murder him, but he didn’t care. Honestly, Peter didn’t just do it because of Mr. Stark – who was still bleeding out – he did it because that sorcerer could not get ahold of the stone. He could ruin the world.

The snap resonated in his ears.

But the sound wasn’t what stuck with him.

It was what he saw.

Galaxies and murals and stars and all of time and space laid out before him. He saw the realities that Strange had seen. He saw how it could have played out, the devastating things that could have happened. He understood why Strange had allowed Mr. Stark to do what he did. He could see everything. Things that he never would have understood before. He could see all of the realities that he could have had – ones where his parents lived. Ones where Ben lived. He felt his mind wrapping in on itself – warping in and out like a kaleidoscope of ever-shifting colors.

Then there were hands on him – strong hands that he knew.

Peter blinked and the galaxies vanished.

“Peter! Peter – God, sit down kid!”

Peter just shook his head – his mind felt like it was running on a conveyer belt. Constantly bringing him new knowledge, overflowing the bin. Like every single idea was piling on top of one-another until he couldn’t breathe – couldn’t think.

“PETER!” He snapped out of it.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He muttered.

“Mr. Parker – please sit-” He shook his head, grabbing Tony’s arms.

“Are you okay? Are you okay?” Peter asked - his voice a grain of sand shifting on the shore.

Mr. Stark just shook his head. “I’m fine – you idiot. I’m fine. You – fucking fixed that. Now, listen to the Doctor here.” Peter nodded, Strange stepping up to him, his eyes flaming with worry.

“Peter, how are you feeling?” His voice was low.

“I feel… fine.” Peter said, and honestly, he did. His mind was filled to the top with knowledge – overflowing with knowledge.

“Your head? How does your head feel?” Strange asked, his voice persistent.

“I feel fine. The stone opened my mind – it’s better than it has ever been.” The waves crashed against the shore. His mind was running on voltage – too high. Overloading – something was popping in his head - like he had touched a transformer box. Liquid dripped down his lips. It was iron and metal and sharp, and he didn’t like it.

“Peter, pay attention. I need you to focus on me right now.” He let out a deep breath and looked up at Strange.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.” Peter said, his voice felt like it was stuck, like he couldn’t stop speaking even if he tried to. Someone squeezed his shoulder – too tight. His winced looking to see Mr. Stark, worry etched into every line of his face.

“Peter, calm down buddy. We’ve got you, just calm down.” Mr. Stark’s voice - calm. A gentle breeze rustling through tall grass.

The lightning struck again – a blinding pain and he winced. His knees felt weak… they weren’t working.

“Do you know what’s happening?” Strange’s voice cut through the noise, cut through the pain and the blinding –

“Yeah.” He muttered… thinks he muttered. Because he knew that his mind wasn’t meant to handle this. He knew too much – more than his brain could take. Like charging an AA battery with a car battery. The input was too much.

“There has never been someone who could use the Time stone – use the Time stone without training. Do you know why?” Strange’s voice was filled with dread. Peter just nodded, a rush of water flaring through his soul.

“Because it’s too much. It re…reveals too much.” Peter responded and Strange gave a soft nod. Another lightning strike – more water flowing out of … the taste of iron. Firm hands on his shoulders.

“You know what I have to do?” The Doctor asked. Peter nodded once more – not understanding why-how he knew, but he did.

“What – what do you have to do?” Tony asked, his voice terse. Peter felt like a tree – hurricane winds too strong as they pulled and tugged and pushed. Threatening him down.

“I have to -Stark I am truly sorry. I need to remove his memories of these events. If I can get rid of the knowledge, he has that this happened – then all of the certainly overwhelming knowledge that is residing in his head… it will be like folding it into a box, tucking it away in a corner. If he doesn’t remember this, he won’t know the box is there to open. He’ll be safe.” And Peter blinked as he saw Tony shaking his head – fear, worry, dread.

“Seeing you will only open the box right back up. We have to erase the fact that you two met, keep you apart so we can keep his brain together.” Strange said, and his voice was soft.

“No – no way. You will abso-fucking-lutely not erase his memories! I-” Tony surely would have continued to rant but the winds were too strong. Peter’s roots snapped; he was a tree falling. Towards the ground … the tile… the

Someone caught him, and he was being held up against a wall, voices that he couldn’t comprehend because there was too much .

“Stark, if you don’t want him to die, then you have to let me do this. His mind is shutting down – his body is shutting down.” And Tony must have seen it, in the way the leaves were shaking, he must have seen it. Because he gave Strange a nod. The same nod Strange had once given Tony.

Strange lifted his hand - and suddenly Peter was done with this idea. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to forget the times he had.

He didn’t want to forget meeting Mr. Stark in his apartment. Webbing him to the door out of fear for Aunt May finding out. He didn’t want to forget Germany, or the argument with Tony that had pushed him into becoming something better. He didn’t want to forget lab nights, meeting Pepper. He didn’t want to forget staying at the tower and the first time he and Mr. Stark had watched all of the Star Wars movies together. He didn’t want to forget taking a fake internship photo after Mr. Stark had insisted it would shut Flash up. As strange as it sounded, he didn’t want to forget going to space. He didn’t want to forget dying or coming back. He didn’t want to forget any of it. He didn’t want to.

“I want to stay.” Peter stated indignantly, ignoring the blood that dripped from his nose, a waterfall of pain and dread. His head pounded like a river breaking on the shore over and over and over again. He could feel it. The energy that was racing through his bloodstream. His mind was a supernova. Flashes of lights and stars and images of things he had never seen – things he could never understand. Time warping around his consciousness, bending his thoughts into an everlasting loop. He felt the world at his finger-tips and he wanted it to go away. Like a black hole coming to wrap around him as he tried to claw his way back to the surface. Peter took a ground shattering breath – the earth’s plate shifting every time he inhaled. “I was going to be with you… forever.”

Tony was crying now – a waterfall cascading down his face. Peter suspected he was doing the same thing.

“Look at me. Peter, look at me.” He didn’t want to. But he did. Lifted his eyes – the earth. Looked into Mr. Stark’s coffee and motor oil and love.

“I want to stay with you.” Peter whispered. “The rest of my life… stay with you – saving the world. I don’t want to forget all of this. Who will I become?” His voice was barely a whisper as Tony nodded.

“I know. But you will be exactly who you are. Exactly as good as you are.” Tony’s hand rested on the side of Peter’s head, his eyes holding the sadness of a lonely ocean. “Peter. God, kid, I am so sorry. But we had the best of times.” And they had. They really had.

Then someone’s hand was on his head – Strange.

“No –“ He wanted to fight, but trees without roots have no means of staying upright.

“The best. Goodbye.”

“No – no – no – no!” He didn’t want to go.

And like being struck by an unbeatable force – into a black hole of time and space and gravity – his entire world shifted into darkness.

Peter wouldn’t remember what happened. He wouldn’t remember why May was crying when he walked out of his room from where he woke up on his bed. He asked her, but she just told him that it was private. He would just go about his day, telling May that he was going to go out as Spider-Man. That made her cry harder, but she just nodded. Peter dropped open his trap door, his onesie falling out and he grinned, pulling it on.

He would spend the rest of his life feeling like he was missing something. He would go on to study Biomechanical Engineering at MIT, on some weird scholarship May had put him in for. It was called the IS Scholarship, and Peter had tried researching it, but nothing came up. He just knew he wasn’t spending a dime to go to school, and he was happy about it.

Peter felt as though there were this… gaping hole in his head. It was the same feeling he always got when he got a concussion – like a hole in his memory that he didn’t know how to fill.

And every once in a while, he would feel as though that hole were filled. He would catch a glimpse of a man. A man standing off just out of reach. He would always be in a hat and sunglasses, a coat pulled tightly up to his chin, hiding behind the corner of a building. Peter would find him staring – stock still. Sometimes it felt as though they were locked. A magnet drawing nearer to itself. But every time Peter tried to grasp it – every time he walked forward; he would get there a second too late. A cat and mouse game in which he somehow knew that he would never catch the man. He would never be able to fill that hole.

Peter caught himself looking forward to those moments… it was almost like a glimpse into his – past? That didn’t make sense, sure. Because as far as his memories made known, he had never seen that man in his life.

But Peter Parker would never be able to deny, seeing that man felt like home.

#Journey's End #Doctor Who AU #Irondad #Tony Stark #Peter Parker #Big Sad #AU #I made things better #then I made them a lot worse

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ragnarachael · 4 years

Text

i’ll live to see another day

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ER Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 2,093

Summary: You're finally back in your apartment from your long shift at Metro-General, but your mystical boyfriend decided you couldn't take a break yet.

Warnings: we got sum INJURIES, BLOOD, INACCURATE MEDICAL TALK, and stephen strange feeling guilty for even asking you to do this. he loves u. he promises.

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK !

You unlocked the door to your apartment, expecting it to be empty.

Yet Stephen Strange stood in your kitchen, the smell of coffee wafting through the air.

“Stephen?” You questioned, letting out a soft sigh as you placed your bag down, tossing your keys on the small hallway cabinet you had near the door. You heard him call back when your eyes caught some drops of red. You shuffled alongside the small trail that seemingly led to the kitchen.

That's when you found Stephen, who was hunched over your kitchen counter, dressed in street clothes for once in his mystic life, holding on tightly to a novelty mug you got from a trip to Universal Studios.

His shirt was absolutely drenched in blood, which was what made it clinging to his left side.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you!?” You were quick to walk to his side as he grunted, standing up straight as your hands found the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Stephen hissed out in retaliation as you got his shirt up to see what looked like a stab wound. You had half the mind to keep your eyes trained on your hands, quick to switch into nurse mode.

“Do not sweetheart me right now, Stephen.” It was quick, stern, and Stephen definitely knew he was in deep shit.

You’d probably make him repay you by cleaning up his blood from your floors while you clean the counters.

Stephen let out another gasp as your hands let the shirt fall back down, a quick mumble of an apology heard before you were off rushing to your bathroom for your first aid kit.

You were still in your scrubs from your shift, and Stephen was already blaming himself and feeling guilty. But he had nowhere else to go.

He couldn’t go to the hospital, too many wandering eyes along with the fact that he was too proud of himself for not going to Metro-General again. Claire was out helping an apparent mutual friend named Mike, whoever the hell that was to Stephen, and Christine was out of town.

You were the only option left, and he didn’t like having to subject you to cleaning him up when he’s hurt since he knew you couldn’t stand seeing people you love in pain.

Just like him.

“Okay, was it a regular blade or another magical one that will make me want to strangle you for even trying to fight off?” You asked suddenly as you flew back through your living room from the bathroom, navigating without even looking up from the medical pack back to the kitchen, digging through the bag.

“It seemed like a normal blade,” Stephen replied. “Do you need me to—”

“No, I got it,” you said in a motherly tone, pointing to one of the dining chairs you have with your small table in the kitchen, “sit. Maybe take your shirt off so I can use it as a rag. And yes, I can get the blood out when I’m done.”

Stephen tried not to feel dejected when you denied his help and did was he was told once he put the coffee mug down, suddenly very happy he already shrugged his jacket off when he first sling-ringed in.

You placed the bag along with some extra supplies on your small dining room table as Stephen yanked his shirt off, trying not to make any noises of pain before the grey fabric was held out your way.

Thanking Stephen as you grabbed the shirt, you decided to kneel between his open legs to have better access to his side. You started getting to work by gently dabbing the wound with his shirt to soak up most of the excess blood before starting to sanitize.

Watching you work was always a treat for Stephen. He’s been told multiple times by you that it’s weird that he likes watching his girlfriend as she’s sewing up his wounds that he could have wound up dead from.

You were good at what you did, was his instant reply. Stephen was never one who complimented doctors or nurses on their techniques much, before and after you met him, but you took his word almost as law. If Doctor Stephen Strange said you were good at what you did, you must be pretty damn good.

“What’d you even get this from?” You asked in exasperation, moving to dig through the med pack again for what Stephen could only assume was a needle and thread. It was a deep wound, he was sure of it.

“I uh, was on a mission with Stark and his boy band,” Stephen started, shifting with a grunt working it’s way out of his throat, “had a tussle with Loki.”

You didn’t hesitate to hold back a scoff. “That’s bullshit.”

Stephen loved you, even if you could call out his bullshit.

“You’re right, it’s bullshit,” Stephen replied almost directly after you spoke, clearing his throat. “Wong and I had this thing to attend at Kamar-Taj and it got ruined by some intergalactic stuff, got stabbed by one of our own who we believe was an insider on the whole ordeal.”

“Ah,” you mused, both in response to Stephen’s story and finding the needle you were looking for, “more Mystic Art’s lingo I don’t get, gotcha.”

Stephen let out a small laugh, tilting his head back. “Mystic Art’s lingo? I expected to hear mumbo jumbo.”

“All I heard were the words intergalactic and Kamar-Taj and I knew.”

Stephen was about to let out another laugh before he let out a loud hiss of pain just as the needle went through his skin.

“You’re smart though, you know bigger words than those, Y/N.”

“Not when I’ve just gotten off an almost 24 hour shift, Stephen,” you responded, Stephen more than likely detecting your undertones of annoyance.

It was quiet between the two of you for a bit after that, smoothly stitching Stephen up just as the sun started to rise. He shuddered, your abnormally cold hands constantly moving.

“I’m sorry.”

Stephen was sincere. He usually isn’t with Claire, for the two of them love verbally sparring. Christine doesn’t take it, but with you he always finds himself apologizing constantly, even if you never prompted him for it and already reassured him that he’s fine.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, finally finishing the last stitch. “I’m just happy you didn’t bleed on my rug.”

The both of you shared a laugh.

“I knew you’d kill me, the kitchen was my only option.”

“Why didn’t you go to Claire’s? Usually she takes care of this.” You expertly finished off the stitch before grabbing scissors to cut the excess thread.

“She’s uh.. She said she’s with our mutual friend Mike?”

“Oh! Mike!” Your face lit up the second the name was mentioned, slowly shifting into a squatting position so you were already on your feet before to place the needle down and grab the big bandage you laid out previously. “How’s he?”

“Wait, who’s Mike?”

Your face when you looked up at him almost made him laugh.

“Mike? Are you joking? Are we not remembering the codename talk?”

“Codename talk?”

You groaned dramatically, peeling open the bandage as Stephen just now noticed you were wearing gloves. It made sense, your hands were never that cold when you touched him.

It took him a moment to remember what you meant by the codename talk, but when he did he sat up a little straighter which helped you conveniently place the bandage on his freshly stitched wound.

“Oh! The codename we use on the phone!”

“Christ, it took you that long?” You quipped as you carefully smoothed the bandage down before rubbing the edges.

“It’s been a long day, okay? And Matt’s doing fine as he can get if Claire’s helping him out,” Stephen replied as he looked down at your gloved hands, watching you smooth the edges down that you had missed.

“Very true. Sad that on Claire’s only day off she’s still technically doing her job.”

“You would prefer a blind vigilante climbing through your windows and ask to be stitched up instead of me? I’m hurt, Y/N. Truly hurt.”

“You can’t climb through windows, Stephen. You sling-ring in and come in unannounced. At least with Matt I’d know if he came in,” you explained playfully before placing your hands on his spread knees to help get back up on your feet before taking your gloves off.

“Not all the time!”

“Yes, all the time!”

“No!” Stephen exclaimed again as if he were a child, holding back a grunt as he moved to try and sit normally, his hand flying almost instantly to his bandage.

“How’d you get in here?” You questioned sternly, placing your hands on your hips.

You definitely got your answer when he didn’t reply right away.

“My point exactly.”

“Matt’s footsteps are light! Remember the one time he came in through one of the windows of the Sanctum and scared the hell out of me?” You let out a laugh as you tossed the gloves into your trashcan, walking to your cabinet where the mugs were.

“You had your headphones in, Stephen, why else would you be scared? I could do that with or without powers!” You exclaimed with a quiet snort, opening the cabinet door before looking over at Stephen as he tried to find the will to get up. “Do you need help, baby?”

Stephen just groaned in defeat from your statement before slowly rising to his feet from the chair as you picked a mug he’d bought you from a small souvenir shop when he actually did go on a mission with Stark and his circus.

“No thank you, dear. Should be fine,” Stephen confirmed as he started to slowly pad over to where you stood, watching you hesitantly reach for the hot coffee pot.

“Are you sure? You have the too much gene, remember—”

“Y/N, I’m more than sure my stitches won’t reopen just from me walking around.”

You let out a soft sigh before nodding to yourself, a quiet okay coming from under your breath.

Stephen could still hear the worry in your voice and couldn't help but feel his heart tug with guilt again. Grabbing his still warm mug, he decided to lean against the counter to watch you make your coffee in what felt like a record time.

You were placing the small container of sugar you have back where it belonged when Stephen spoke up again.

“Thank you.”

“You already said that,” you replied gently, starting to carefully stir your coffee with a smaller spoon as you turned around to face Stephen.

“I know but.. I’m just feeling thankful.”

You squinted at that sentence and felt your hip jutting out. “Are there more injuries I need to fix?”

Stephen could tell that your eyes were inspecting his bare top half just as he sipped his coffee.

“No. I just love you.” Stephen tried to hold back a chuckle as he watched your eyes roll, a fond smile growing on your face.

“Shut up. Do you want a fresh shirt?”

Stephen smiled smugly as he lifted his mug to take another sip. “Nah. I think you like this view.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t put a shirt on, Strange,” you quipped, finally stopping your stirring motion and tapping the spoon on the side of the mug. “Pink Floyd?”

Stephen placed his mug on the counter top of your kitchen counter, a soft thud left in its wake as you innocently placed the spoon you used in the sink.

“That’s where it went? Don't tell me you stole my Led Zepplin shirt, too."

He heard a second soft thud of a mug after you took a sip, starting to walk towards the arch way of the kitchen to get out and grab something for him to wear.

"That's a secret I'll never tell." You smiled innocently as you stopped in your tracks just in front of him before getting up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. "Hang tight. I'll get the Pink Floyd shirt for you."

Stephen couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face after he felt your lips one last time on his before you walked out, heading to the direction of your bedroom. He was quick to call out another thank you, to which you replied with a thumbs up sticking out from your bedroom doorway just as you walked in.

#stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x ER nurse!reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange imagine #marvel imagine #marvel writer #rachael writes

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raymondshields · 4 years

Note

19 through 25? :0

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

Hmmmm.... Honestly, not that I can think of? I mean characters in my head sometimes walk up and inform me they’ve committed incest again, but that doesn’t usually make it to AO3. (Shoutout to Rhada for informing me of a whole lot of shit he did with Sisyphus, who is related to him in Mirrorverse on a fucking technicality, jfc. But also Rhada’s been committing incest by way of sleeping with Gordon, aka Minos’ son, since the bronze age so.)

I mean, I probably overuse Toby quotes, but tbh I actually can’t think of something I overuse too much. Huh.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I’ve already done this a lot (I’m actually answering this last because I’m trying to think of my favourite here), and. Hmmm. Honestly, I’m gonna go with IKM Minos, because while I have rambled about him before, only in DMs, and I haven’t talked about IKM much yet.

The thing is, I know as much about him as y’all who follow the series do. He’s very quiet in my headspace, and only ever comes out when I sit down and write him. But he’s four things. Four things, completely at odds with each other, and yet completely in harmony. He’s a griffon, he’s a Spectre, he’s noble, he’s feral. And everything he is can be summed up in those four traits.

He’s a griffon, to start. Half cat, half bird. All the casual arrogance of cats, all the flock behaviour of a bird, all the loyalty, all the insistence to guard. That’s what griffons do. They guard. And that’s his fundamental beginning: he’s a griffon, once you strip everything else away from him.

On top of that, he’s a Spectre. He’s casually cruel and vicious, very traumatized (how, I don’t know, he won’t tell me), he’s a strategist, he prioritizes his own survival but looks out for the others in his division, and he’s very very choosy about who he trusts to not hurt him, who he trusts he won’t hurt on purpose.

Then, his demon star, Nobility. This comes from the Age of Myth. He’s at ease with humans, can interact well with them, can slip around their social etiquette with grace, despite being nothing like them. He’s a little bit chivalrous, has honour enough, tries not to get too messy, actually does have a moral compass of sorts.

Lastly, he’s feral. Wild. Untethered and unforgiving and free. This is the opposite of his demon star, yes. But it is what he is, and he has no issues stripping free of his fancy clothes and running naked through the mud with nothing but fur to cover him and howling at the moon as he rips through prey with his teeth.

Seems contrary, and indeed, he’s a very contrary person. The real joy in how those go together.

A griffon Spectre means he’ll guard his division. He doesn’t need to love them to have no option but to guard and protect them. He’s the leader of the flock, and he’ll do what needs doing. He’s cruel, he’s responsible, and he does what he needs to. This ties in well with Nobility, his star, because he has enough of a moral compass to know when he has to sacrifice someone, and how to feel bad about it, while his Spectreness allows him to not feel as bad about it as he could.

Naturally, most of the time, he’s noble, a bit fussy and imperious, likes his poetry as a way of speaking. But the more he’s hurt, the angrier he is, the more upset he is, that stripes away into his feral nature. His nobility is a mask and a shield for his true nature: simply a wild griffon, untethered by any rules and unforgiving to any that meet him. I’ll explore this part a bit further later on as this is the part of him that Alba really falls in love with, but this is where his personality begins to really shine. That duality between his noble, imperious nature and his honest, wild self.

He’s a hard as fuck character to write. But oh, I love the results.

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

As answered previously, I Have No Fucking Idea But Probably Anime.

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

As also answered previously, yes, because I have no other choice if I want to see my damn rarepairs most of the time, and I enjoy doing so because I like most of my fics.

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

I answered last time as Rose’s story, but I checked my spreadsheet for what I’d forgotten and gold star me, I forgot about one I really do want to talk about: the TLC version of Seanan McGuire’s Every Heart a Doorway as a long fic! Harry Potter AUs are out. Wayward Children AUs are in as fuck.

What I know is that Aiolos and Aiolia run a school like Eleanor does. It may be located not far from Sagiverse’s Saint Shion’s University, probably Academia Terrestria. Most of the cast is TLC, Golds and Spectres mostly. It follows the adventures of one young Sasha, kicked out of her world by Hades himself after going mostly all the way through the plot of TLC itself, as she deals with coming back without her brother - a possibility she’d already made peace with - but with him still in Sanctum Greece, out and committing mass murder - the part she isn’t cool with.

She walks in during the first few chapters to meet Aiolia just as Minos - from a high Nonsense, high Wicked world where everything is the theatre and the rules make you think it’s Logic and it’s not - bolts across the room, swings a grappling hook around the chandelier, and scales the wall in the nick of time before Pandora throws her trident at him. They’re roommates. Pandora’s from Prism, Kade’s world, as the Goblin Princess so she is understandably wanting Minos dead here.

Sasha blinks, immediately goes on the defensive because hello, two Spectres, but neither know who the hell she is. Lia takes her with him as he negotiates getting Minos into the tower room with Albafica, from the Moors where he and his dad fend off vampires with a strain of woody rose poison they put into their blood, and then puts Sasha in with Pandora, who helps her figure out that just because she knows all of these faces and names doesn’t make them the same people. (This is after watching her freak out over Minos and Alba sharing a room, because she watched them kill each other.)

And then like two weeks later Alone shows up, immediately throws himself at the Dragon Prince Rhadamanthys, who is sixteen and doesn’t know how to handle a small child without a tail and shares the attic with Aiacos, who lived in a world of fire and brimstone and light and wind, moderate Virtue, moderate Logic. Sasha freaks out, Pandora sits on her, and it is discovered not that long later that Alone brought Hades with him.

I have no idea what the plot is past that point. I figure I’ll be asking Zander or another system how I should best write Alone and Hades, which is a standard possession that I want to be thinly-veiled multiplicity, because really those two things are the damn same from where I’m standing and that would be cool.

I’ll write it when I’ve got a plot. Gah.

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Oh abso-goddamn-lutely. I finally figured out how to show and not tell so much, and how to vaguely fix my biggest problem that I had forever: expanding individual threads so I didn’t rush everything. Now that I’ve figured out how to do that, I’m pretty sure I could redline for another writer struggling with the same thing. One of the bits of advice someone said that really fixed my writing was the idea of one, ‘always name at least two sensory details in every paragraph’, and two, ‘for the next six months never write ‘they saw that’ ‘they felt like’ ‘they wanted to’ etc etc, and find a way to say that without saying that, take no shortcuts and never say it outright’. Once you understand why they’re telling you to do that, you can go do it again and avoid the purple prose, but it teaches you how to expand things.

Instead of just going ‘he was sad’, if you can’t say that, then what ends up happening is that you quietly restate he was sad by referencing it in his every action. Body language. Tone of voice. Show don’t tell is advice that works great with examples. Take out every ‘they were’ ‘they saw’ ‘they felt’ and you have no choice but to show it without telling it. And it makes your writing so much stronger.

Another thing I learned was that a Mary Sue isn’t a level one character, they’re a level twenty in a level-three-recommended story. Their backstory is their plotline. This one I learned from Betsy Lee, with No Evil versus Brother Swan- specifically, Ozma Angeline. Look at her child form. Now look at her adult. Her adult is the perfect idea of an edgy Mary Sue. But it’s clear the moment you see her child form, that her every adornment was gained after she first appeared. She wasn’t born that way. Every mark she has is a part of her story. I first met Angel in NE, and I got to know her. Then I saw her in BS and I was like “is that fucking Angel???” and suddenly everything made sense. That’s a well-written character. Sure, we see fuckall of her arc, but that’s when I finally understood how to write a powerful character without making them a Mary Sue. Because nothing stands in the way of a Mary Sue, they never struggle. You set the Mary Sue as their endgame, twenty years after the series ends, and you’re golden.

The last thing I really learned that helped me so much owes itself to Seanan McGuire, of course the Toby books. Specifically: Luna Torquill. This is where I learned that allies become enemies offscreen if they want to, and how to give your side characters a true arc without ever giving them the spotlight. Toby characters don’t feel like they’re just waiting for Toby herself to check in with them. They go do their own stuff when she’s not there, and actively get more development offscreen without ever feeling out of character. Luna is the most obvious example, but Sylvester, Antigone, Tybalt, and Cass all do it too. Actually, the only one who didn’t was Connor and he died and I didn’t like him anyway. Luna really showed me how to bring my side characters to life, and in that understanding helped me really get how to write a character arc.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Sneaking in metaphors and foreshadowing and recurring motifs and parallels, and doing so accidentally because I’m just that good. /lh No really, I love having parallels and shit in my writing that make me look smarter than I am, because most all of them are accidental and I only notice after someone points it out. I look like a genius. I’m bullshitting it the entire way. But when I do actively do it, and it works out, I like it even more. I love hiding little things that reinforce the storyline and atmosphere and add a deeper meaning to my work.

Like, for example. In Aeternum, specifically As We Watch The Hourglass, Tsuko pointed out that the state of the boiler room perfectly represents Minos’ mental state. She’s fine, she’s fixing things, and then outside circumstances causes her to fall apart and Alba just attempts to patch it up enough that it’s vaguely safe enough to work with, but still very very fragile and prone to collapsing at any second. Add in that she’s an engineer and this is her specialty and biggest talent, and it seems like a super cool parallel to do, especially since I really like reflecting my characters in the world around them.

It was completely accidental. I wanted to show that her sadism that canon Minos has is in there, that she isn’t totally OOC and just hasn’t yet become more like her canon form (he’s more traumatized and has gone down a path she’s only inching onto at the moment), but I also wanted them to get a damn bath so Alba could bitch about his hair, while showing that Minos is actually surprisingly useful. In order to do that, I needed the boiler room, I needed to show her fragility, and then I needed to show what was underneath that. And then I needed the threat gone so they could do other shit. In order to make that realistic, I forced her to not panic about it even though she really wanted to, and Alba did a shoddy job because we gave him like an hour and he’s running on little food and less sleep. That was it, that was my entire thought process. And on the page, there’s symbolism that makes me look smart.

When I go to rewrite Aeternum, I’ll be showing more of their early relationship, so she actually is useless onscreen for a bit, so the scene has more oomph when surprise, she has talents after all. (Later those talents will prove very important, but I haven’t written that part yet and won’t for a while.)

So yeah. Accidental symbolism. I love doing that shit.

#asks #anonymous #saint seiya #thank you very much!!!#Anonymous

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atavisticenthusiast · 5 years

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S6 thoughts and SPOILERS

... under the cut. This includes information from 6x01 and 6x02 (I’ve seen both), so don’t read on if you’re avoiding spoilers. Lots about (Bellamy’s) psychosis.

Can I just say first that I am shocked, SHOCKED, by how much Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship has been foregrounded this season? Not that it hasn’t always been central to the show, but as I die-hard science fiction fan, I tend to be equally invested in characters AND their surroundings. The new world is gorgeous, mysterious sci-fi GOLD, and (to me at least) it paled before the character dynamics. These episodes - 6x02 especially - delivered on the emotional front, unlike S5, which foregrounded the action. Now relationships have BECOME the action.

Clarke and Murphy’s relationship stands out. He’s the only member of Spacekru to whom Clarke gives as well as she gets. She accepts most everyone else’s criticism. He’s also one of the few other people who have, at one point or another, been suicidal and isolated from the group. Since he’s the only person who witnesses Clarke’s psychosis-induced suicide attempt, he’ll be crucial in helping her address her mental health. And I do think that scene marks a turning point in their relationship; something in his expression softens when he realizes what she’s trying to do, and he immediately starts to talk her down. Which isn’t to say all is forgiven, but he might be closer to forgiving her than anyone but Bellamy. (Though maybe Bellamy hasn’t forgiven her as much as he wants to believe. More on that later.) Murphy’s also a loose canon, and between alluding to Clarke’s drawings of Bellamy, pointing out that the eclipse causes people to hurt those they love, and suggesting that he can’t shoot her because “Bellamy would hear,” he’s unwittingly propelling them towards confronting their feelings for one another. Thank you, Murphy.

It’s clear that Bellamy and Clarke are squarely on the same side when the season begins, and he doesn’t hesitate to speak up when Spacekru criticizes her. (Neither does Echo. Cheers.) In 6x01 and pre-psychosis 6x02, he actually seems a few degrees warmer towards her than he did in last year’s finale (and that includes the one-armed hug). He’s the only person that waits for her to leave the main ship for the drop ship. He touches her arm when they land and Shaw snarks at her and smiles. Then of course there’s the radio conversation (so much smiling, both sides) and tosses his radio awkwardly (doesn’t know what to do with his hands) when she walks out, suggesting that he didn’t get what he needed from that conversation.

And then the toxins begin to affect him. I’m not sure any of us will be able to explain this properly until the characters address it themselves (hopefully in 6x03, x04), because we only hear CLARKE’s experience of the psychosis (Abby talking to her). All she says aloud is “shut up,” and all we hear from Bellamy is the equivalent of “shut up” - we don’t hear what he hears. But we can speculate. When Bellamy begins to experience the effects, he is trying to enter the room that Emori and Echo have locked themselves into because he thinks Murphy will try to kill Emori. Though he shouts for Echo to open the door, the content of his shouting doesn’t have anything to do with Echo, interestingly enough. (Not to say he doesn’t care for her, we know he does, but maybe that he’s focused on protecting people who need protection.) Clarke, meanwhile, is trying to coax him back to the school house so she can secure him before he gets worse. He rounds on her and says, “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Clarke, but I don’t nEeD you aNyMorE.” Yes, his voice breaks on those words.

I have several thoughts here:

First, this is setting up a parallel line later in the season. We know they don’t technically need one another to survive any more, but that they do want each other. I can see this being addressed later in the season in a, “It’s true - I don’t need you. But I choose you,” kind of way, but then, we also thought they’d have a “what does your heart say” moment last season to parallel the “what does your head say,” so who knows. I like this concept though - you shouldn’t need someone to love them, it’s not healthy to be that dependent. But to want them? Even though you know you could survive without them? That speaks DIRECTLY to “Life should be about more than just surviving,” and Monty has told them to live. That is HEALTHY. That is ROMANTIC.

Second, he’s saying the opposite of what he feels (because he does still love her deeply, and right now he doesn’t have any other word for it than “need”), and this is an attempt to make her as insecure about their relationship as he is. We’ve already seen ample evidence that he is uncertain how Clarke feels about him. In these two episodes alone, he fidgets around her (tossing the radio when she bails on their talk to watch Murphy sing) and is still thoroughly shocked that she radioed him every day for six years. So saying that he doesn’t need her is his addled way of evening a playing field that he perceives as unbalanced (she sent him into MW alone, she chose the Grounders and he lost Gina, she aimed a gun at him, he poisoned Octavia and Clarke left him to die, etc.) It’s simply not true.

My third thought is a bit more of a stretch but takes their surroundings into consideration. He has JUST been talking to Echo through the door when he is distracted by Clarke, and “maybe you haven’t noticed” suggests that there is something evident about him that should prove to her that she’s no longer needed. To me, that says, “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I have a girlfriend now, so I don’t need you anymore.” Again, it’s more of a stretch than the other two, but YOU GUYS. He could be comparing her, again, to his canon girlfriend (and we know there’s a long history of him only having romantic relationships when Clarke is MIA) and suggesting that whatever he feels for Clarke he now feels for this other person. Non-platonic feelings. Still lying to himself, but he does want to believe it’s true. I also think the “maybe you haven’t noticed” is hilarious because (except for the night Echo defected), he has missed all of Clarke’s jealous expressions when she watches them together, and might think that his relationship doesn’t bother her when we know it does. So saying what he says could also be a way to elicit a reaction.

Where I am confused, admittedly, is when Bellamy tries to kill Clarke (and Murphy) and shouts that he is protecting an unspecified person or group of people. Does he mean that he is protecting Clarke and Murphy by killing them, or that he is killing them to protect other people? The two things that set Bellamy off are Clarke and his feelings for her, and his need to protect people (Emori + whoever else he’s protecting by killing Clarke). Saying things like “you’re going to die for real this time” seems like an odd manifestation of his fear of losing her again (maybe), whereas saying things like “how many times have you tried to kill me” left me confused ... she only left him to die once? When and why did this become a revenge killing? (Would LOVE to get some peoples’ thoughts on this ... though like I said at the beginning, I think there are some things we won’t understand for sure until the subsequent episodes are released.)

Then we see Abby, Raven, Jordan, and the Sanctum woman waking them up. Raven asks CLARKE what happened to Shaw (interesting - it wasn’t accusatory so does she think she’ll get a straight answer from Clarke and not the “he died a hero” story that Bellamy concocted?). Then Bellamy looks at Clarke with dawning horror, and although she’d been touching his arm, she releases it now. I think that, although he may have forgiven her, he is painfully uncertain about where HE stands with her and THAT is what we see during his psychosis. And Clarke now knows that all isn’t forgiven/forgotten, and hearing him say those things to her while she was hallucinating about all the people she loved and lost certainly took a toll. I wonder if she'll be worse off emotionally in 6x03, before experiencing some of the positivity we saw in the trailer. Also - I just watched the trailer again and there are a couple of scenes where it looks like she has some bruising around her neck ... namely, when she meets JR Bourne and when she’s in the blue dress at the rave. Would love a second opinion.

Anyway, there’s a lot more I’d like to discuss about the episodes but this got loooong so I’m cutting myself off. If there’s anything else you’d like to know, my Ask box is open.

#bellarke #bellarke spoilers #The 100 #the 100 meta #the100 season 6 #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #bellamy x clarke #john murphy #team cockroach #the 100 spoilers #the 100 6x02

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