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doctorofmagic · 2 years

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The Death of Doctor Strange: Spider-Man #1 Review

This is literally the best tie-in I’ve ever read in my entire life as a Marvel worm. A thousand years of Jed writing Stephen please!!!

Remember when many people came to me and asked me my thoughts on the idea of Stephen dying? And I said time and time again that DODS would be a love letter to the character and a way for people to acknowledge Stephen’s importance? TODAY IS THE DAY, MY FRIENDS!

First, we are introduced to some bickering between Ben and Felicia. It’s expected since Ben is taking the title of Spider-Man instead of sticking to the Scarlet Spider mantle. We’ll get to that soon. They are, however, interrupted by Stephen’s astral form, who trusts Spider-Man with a to-do list.

This is important because, first of all, Stephen was well-prepared for his own demise. As the Sorcerer Supreme, he had tons of responsabilities no one was aware of. Second, he trusts Peter with said responsabiliities. Yes, that’s right. Peter Parker. Stephen knows thousands of heroes, he assisted even more. But the one he trusts the most? Peter. After everything they’ve been through in AMS, Stephen still trusts him. This is too much for my heart.

So Felicia and Ben head to the Sanctum and they find Wong. This whole sequence is so hilarious, I adore Felicia so much.

Felicia: “HE’S RIGHT THERE! I CAN SEE HIM BEHIND YOU!”

Wong: .... *sigh*

Wong is tired, poor thing. Also the fact that he can sense Ben is not Peter is great.

Next, Wong explains that Stephen kept a daily schedule in order to protect the city from mystic threats. First mission is about Gator Shaman.

It’s sweet how Stephen actually doesn’t mind the gators but in fact he’s worried about their safety. They’re rare animals and could be in trouble. I LOVE HIM

Next, they need to stop the Hungry Prince of Hearts. AND GUESS WHO SHOWS UP? THAT’S RIGHT, MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW.

Moon Knight took care of the trouble by himself. BUT IT GETS BETTER.

HE CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARES. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS TO ME. YOU JUST DON’T. ‘Cause, first of all, Marc and Stephen are not that close, as I once wrote. BUT Mr. Knight was part of the team to rescue Stephen from Mephisto, basically Wong’s version of the Midnight Sons. So they’re not totally strangers, not to mention their few team-ups. Second important thing is, that atrocity called Age of Khonshu, an arc that basically ruined Marc’s character development, in which Marc stole the power of the Sorcerer Supreme from Stephen. So when he says he owns an apology, he’s referring to this particular moment.

I hate Age of Konshu with a burning passion but I’m just SO glad Marc acknowledges that he was wrong and Stephen deserves an apology. Most of the Avengers don’t even care about the fact that Stephen is dead but Marc is just... He’s just sorry. And it was addressed. It was finally addressed. Gods, I can’t wait for Marc and Stephen team up again. I just know it’s going to happen at this point. Jed, I owe you my life.

Okay, moving on...

Felicia and Ben continue their chores while we see a side story with a woman doing her job (I suppose she’s a janitor?). Then the heroes rest for a while on the top of a building and deliver what I’ve been waiting for literally years to happen. All those articles and posts talking about how Stephen takes care of people from the shadows, that no one knows his true valor as a hero because he doesn’t seek glory. It’s all coming to light!

I guess these two panels only come in second to my favorite moment in 2021 (the first being Clea and Stephen kissing). Funny how they were both written by Jed haha. This is what happens when a writer who cares is responsible for your favorite character. And I’m deeply grateful for that.

BUT IT’S NOT OVER YET. The last item on the list is not related to magic or monsters. It’s just... the woman we see earlier, her name is Jimena. She works at night and Stephen brings her a pretzel while they wait for her bus.

"He’s a lovely man, isn’t he?”

YES *sobs* YES, HE IS. Thank you, Jimena. You’re my best friend from now on.

Felicia always representing me because I was also crying at the end of this story.

And here Ben explains why he needs to be Spider-Man. Because the world needs Spider-Man. There are many other “spiders” but there must always be the og in order to make people feel safe. And Felicia agrees, for a change.

Now, whoever comes to me saying stupid things about Stephen, they just don’t know the character. Stephen has many flaws, he’s a difficult man, but he’s also kind, selfless, LOVELY. He’s not arrogant toward people because he’s a healer and he learned humility. He’s not entirely free of this trait but he’d never mistreat his patients (coughcoughwaid). So please stop with the arrogance discourse. This is my Stephen. Yup, this one.

This issue is the best tie-in I’ve ever read in my life. It’s a lesson how to be relevant without changing the main plot. It’s yet another love letter, and I thought that DODS was enough.

As I said previously... A THOUSAND YEARS OF JED WRITING STEPHEN. I’m just so grateful for this issue. I’ll never forget it.

#doctor strange #stephen strange #black cat #felicia hardy #spider-man #peter parker #ben reilly #moon knight #marc spector #wong #marvel comics #wednesday tomes #review #jed mackay

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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multiverseforger · 3 years

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In November 2013, Marvel Comics announced that Kamala Khan, a teenage American Muslim from Jersey City, New Jersey, would take over the comic book series Ms. Marvel beginning in February 2014. The series, written by G. Willow Wilson and drawn by Adrian Alphona, marked the first time a Muslim character headlined a book at Marvel Comics.[2] However, Noelene Clark of the Los Angeles Times noted that Khan is not the first Muslim character in comic books, which include Simon Baz, Dust and M.[3] The conception of Kamala Khan came about during a conversation between Marvel editors Sana Amanat and Stephen Wacker. Amanat said, "I was telling him [Wacker] some crazy anecdote about my childhood, growing up as a Muslim American. He found it hilarious." The pair then told Wilson about the concept and Wilson became eager to jump aboard the project.[4] Amanat said that the series came from a "desire to explore the Muslim-American diaspora from an authentic perspective."[5]

Artist Jamie McKelvie based Khan's design on his redesign of Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel and on Dave Cockrum's design of the original Ms. Marvel.[6] Amanat requested that the design "reflected the Captain Marvel legacy, and also her story and her background."[7] Amanat stated that Khan's costume was influenced by the shalwar kameez. They wanted the costume to represent her cultural identity, but did not want her to wear a hijab,[8] because the majority of teenage Pakistani-American girls do not wear one.[9] Amanat also stated that they wanted the character to look "less like a sex siren" to appeal to a more vocal female readership.[8]

Marvel knew that they wanted a young Muslim girl, but stated that she could be from any place of origin and have any background. Wilson initially considered making her an Arab girl from Dearborn, Michigan but ultimately chose to create a Desi girl from Jersey City.[10] Jersey City, which sits across the Hudson River from Manhattan, has been referred to as New York City's "Sixth borough".[11][12][13] It therefore forms an important part of Khan's identity and the narrative journey of her character since most of Marvel Comics' stories are set in Manhattan. Wilson explains, "A huge aspect of Ms. Marvel is being a 'second string hero' in the 'second string city' and having to struggle out of the pathos and emotion that can give a person."[14]

The series not only explores Khan's conflicts with supervillains but also explores conflicts with Khan's home and religious duties. Wilson, a convert to Islam, said "This is not evangelism. It was really important for me to portray Kamala as someone who is struggling with her faith." Wilson continued, "Her brother is extremely conservative, her mom is paranoid that she's going to touch a boy and get pregnant, and her father wants her to concentrate on her studies and become a doctor."[4] Amanat added,

As much as Islam is a part of Kamala's identity, this book isn't preaching about religion or the Islamic faith in particular. It's about what happens when you struggle with the labels imposed on you, and how that forms your sense of self. It's a struggle we've all faced in one form or another, and isn't just particular to Kamala because she's Muslim. Her religion is just one aspect of the many ways she defines herself.[2]

First appearance of Kamala Khan from Captain Marvel #14 (August 2013) by Kelly Sue DeConnick and Scott Hepburn

In the series, Khan takes the name Ms. Marvel from Carol Danvers, who now goes by the alias Captain Marvel. Captain Marvel writer Kelly Sue DeConnick revealed that Khan actually made a brief appearance in Captain Marvel #14 (August 2013) saying, "Kamala is in the background of a scene in Captain Marvel 14 ... She is very deliberately placed in a position where she sees Carol protecting civilians from Yon-Rogg."[15] According to Wilson, Khan idolizes Carol so when Khan acquires superhuman abilities, she emulates Danvers.[14] "Captain Marvel represents an ideal that Kamala pines for. She's strong, beautiful and doesn't have any of the baggage of being Pakistani and 'different,'"[4] Wilson explained. "Khan is a big comic book fan and after she discovers her superhuman power – being a polymorph and able to lengthen her arms and legs and change her shape – she takes on the name of Ms. Marvel," Amanat elaborated.[16] Khan is one of several characters who discover that they have Inhuman heritage following the "Inhumanity" storyline, in which the Terrigen Mists are released throughout the world and activate dormant Inhuman cells.[17]

In the series' first story arc, Khan faces off against Mr. Edison / the Inventor, an amalgam of man and bird. Wilson created the Inventor to be Khan's first arch rival in order to mirror Khan's own complexity. Wilson characterizes the Inventor, and the overall visual look of the opening story arc as "kooky and almost Miyazaki-esque at times", owing to the art style of illustrator Adrian Alphona, which balances the drama of the threats which Khan faces with the humor of Alphona's "tongue in cheek sight gags." During the storyline, Khan also teams-up with the X-Man Wolverine against the Inventor. Because Wolverine is dealing with the loss of his healing factor during this time, Khan is placed in the position of having to shoulder much of the responsibilities, as Wilson felt this was a role reversal that would subvert reader expectations that Wolverine would take the lead in such a team-up.[18]

At the 2014 San Diego Comic-Con International, writer Dan Slott announced that Khan would team-up with Spider-Man beginning in The Amazing Spider-Man #7 (October 2014) during the "Spider-Verse" storyline. Slott characterized Khan "the closest character to classic Peter Parker,"[19] explaining, "She's a teenage superhero, juggling her life, making mistakes, trying to do everything right."[20]

Beginning in June 2015, Ms. Marvel tied into the "Secret Wars" crossover event with the "Last Days" storyline, which details Khan's account of the end of the Marvel Universe. Wilson explained, "In the 'Last Days' story arc, Kamala has to grapple with the end of everything she knows, and discover what it means to be a hero when your whole world is on the line."[21] In the storyline, Khan rushes to deal with the threat in Manhattan. However, Wilson revealed, "She will face a very personal enemy as the chaos in Manhattan spills over into Jersey City, and she will be forced to make some very difficult choices. There will also be a very special guest appearance by a superhero Kamala—and the fans—have been waiting to meet for a long time."[22]

In March 2015, Marvel announced that Khan will join the Avengers in All-New All-Different Avengers FCBD (May 2015) by writer Mark Waid and artists Adam Kubert and Mahmud Asrar, which takes place in the aftermath of "Secret Wars".[23] A second volume of Ms. Marvel starring Khan by Wilson, Alphona and Takeshi Miyazawa is also debuted following "Secret Wars" as part of Marvel's All-New, All-Different Marvel initiative.[24] Amanat said,

By the time this new launch comes around, it will have been almost two years since the premiere of Ms. Marvel—and boy, has Kamala Khan been through a lot since then. She's been slowly coming into her own, dealing with the challenges of navigating adulthood and being a super hero. But her training is over now and it's time for the big leagues; the question is can she handle it? ... As much as Kamala has a right to be there—it's still a bit of a culture shock. Dreaming of being an Avenger and then suddenly being one is a lot to take on for someone of her age. So, she'll be a little awestruck, a little overly ambitious.[25]

In March 2016, Marvel announced that Ms. Marvel would tie into the "Civil War II" storyline by releasing a promotional image illustrating a rift between Khan and Danvers.[26] "While "Civil War II" may have initiated this rift, we've known for some time that Kamala would eventually need to separate herself from her idols. Her journey centers around self-discovery and identity, and a part of that exploration includes separating yourself from those you put on pedestals. The rift between Carol and Kamala doesn't really have to do with right and wrong. It has to do with growing up and realizing that you perceive the world differently from even the ones you love," Amanat elaborated.[27]

In July, Marvel announced that Khan will join the Champions, a team of teenage superheroes who split off from the Avengers following the conclusion of "Civil War II". The team, featured in a series by writer Mark Waid and artist Humberto Ramos, consists of Khan, Spider-Man (Miles Morales), Nova (Sam Alexander), Hulk (Amadeus Cho), Viv Vision, and a teenage version of Cyclops. Waid said, "The first three are the kids who quit the Avengers proper. That was an easy get. Those three, in and of themselves, form a nice little subteam. Their dynamic is great. They all show up in each other's books, and even though they have their arguments and stress points, clearly they're good together."[28]

In August, Khan made an appearance in Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #10 by writers Amy Reeder and Brandon Montclare. In the issue, Khan acts as a mentor to Moon Girl (Lunella Lafayette) who is also a young Inhuman that suddenly came into her powers. Amanat stated that Khan sees much of herself in Lafayette and by teaching her, Khan learns much about herself.[27]

In November, Marvel announced that Khan will join a new incarnation of the Secret Warriors in a series by writer Matthew Rosenberg and artist Javier Garron that debuted in May 2017. The team, formed in the wake of the "Inhumans vs X-Men" storyline, also includes Quake, Karnak, Moon Girl, and Devil Dinosaur. Rosenberg stated that there is some conflict and friction amongst the team members explaining, "Ms. Marvel and Quake are really fighting for the soul of the team in a lot of ways, while Moon Girl will continue to really do her own thing. They will all be tested and challenged, they are superheroes after all, but they are going to do things their way."[29]

In March 2017, Marvel announced that Khan would team-up with Danvers in a one-shot issue of the limited anthology series, Generations by Wilson and Paolo Villanelle. Wilson stated that the issue would explore Danvers' and Khan's mentor–student relationship, but "at its heart, [it] is about growing up, and a big part of growing up is discovering that your idols have feet of clay – and forgiving them for their flaws as you gain an adult understanding of your own."[30]

In December, Ms. Marvel began the "Teenage Wasteland" story arc, as part of the Marvel Legacy relaunch. Wilson said, "Since the events of 'Civil War II', there's been friction between Kamala and her mentor, Captain Marvel. In this arc, we're exploring how complicated legacies can be when they're passed from generation to generation ... She's questioning a lot about herself and her mission. Her friends end up stepping into some very important—and unexpected—roles. So in a sense, the arc is really about a bunch of chronically under-estimated teenagers who pull together to fight evil."[31]

Ms. Marvel #31, the 50th issue of Ms. Marvel featuring Khan was released in June 2018. To mark the occasion, Marvel brought in additional collaborators for the issue including writers: G. Willow Wilson, Saladin Ahmed, Rainbow Rowell, and Hasan Minhaj; and artists: Nico Leon, Bob Quinn, Gustavo Duarte, and Elmo Bondoc.[32]

Beginning in March 2019, Khan headlined a new series titled, The Magnificent Ms. Marvel, written by Ahmed and illustrated by Minkyu Jung. Wilson stated that she had been planning her departure from the series for over a year, stating that she originally anticipated that the series would only last for ten issues and was excited by the fact that she had written 60 issues. Ahmed said the new series will have much wider scope, "while still maintaining that intimate tone that people have loved about it."[33]

In July 2020, Marvel announced that Khan would star in an original graphic novel, published in conjunction with Scholastic and aimed at younger readers. The book will be written by author Nadia Shammas. An illustrator has not yet been named.[34

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clara-licht · 4 years

Text

You’ve Gotta Be Kidding Me

You woke up in a familiar place with Marvel actors staying there. Or at least, you thought they were actors...

Pairing: The Avengers & Reader Genre: Platonic, general Word Count: 1.9k Note: This is an edited version from my old work in deviantart where the idea is you somehow met the Avengers, but you thought they were the actors instead. It’s been a while since I last wrote something so this was a nice refresher! I got a Peter Parker imagine in works right now, though.

When you opened your eyes, you instantly regretted it.

"Ugh!"

You shielded your eyes from the burning light. When your eyes finally adapted to the lightings, you took in your surroundings. You were in a familiar room. But you didn't think you've been there before. It just that you thought you knew this room. It was quiet, but not dead quiet. You kept looking around you in silence, until a voice startled you.

"Good morning, miss."

"Who's there?!" You immediately jumped out of the bed you'd been on.

"Please do not be alarmed. My name is FRIDAY, an Artificial Intelligence created by my boss, Anthony Stark."

Hearing this, you scoffed. FRIDAY? Anthony Stark? Okay, this was either a dream or someone was pulling prank on you. "Yeah, right. And I fell from the sky to SHIELD's Helicarrier, saved by Captain America, and was treated by Dr. Bruce Banner in Stark Tower. Or is it Avengers Tower?" You said sarcastically.

You got to admit; you loved Marvel. Even if you were pretty sure Endgame also ended your life as you knew it and you couldn't accept a lot of things that happened in that movie. Like Steve leaving Bucky for Peggy, who he knew already had a fulfilling life and children? Nonsense. Far From Home was also quite heartbreaking, seeing your favorite character, Peter Parker, going through a lot like that. You just re-watched it a few days ago and had a good cry about it. Or was it weeks ago? Or hours ago? Wait, why were your memories foggy? You couldn't remember what happened before you woke up in the room.

"Are you okay?"

It took a moment for you to regain your composure. "Yeah, I'm fine. So, care to explain what happened? You can't be the real FRIDAY. As much as how I wanted you to be, FRIDAY only exist in Marvel Universe. Where is this? How did I end up here? What happened? Who are you and what do you want?"

"One moment."

You raised an eyebrow. Now she intended to make you wait? Whoever that guy who pretended to be FRIDAY was, her voice could seriously pass as Kerry Condon's.

A sound of door sliding open made you turned around. And God did you not regret doing it.

"OH MY GOD. ROBERT DOWNEY JR?!"

"Who?" The vertically challenged man, who clearly was Robert Downey Jr. a.k.a Iron Man actor, frowned. Now you didn't care if it was a prank pulled by your friends. You got to meet Downey after all!

"Oh God, are you really?! What did I do to deserve meeting you?!" You started squealing.

"Hey, FRIDAY? Are you sure she's not mentally broken? She hit her head quite hard, didn't she?"

"Yes, boss. I ran full scan of her and right now the amount of dopamine in her brain is increasing- indicating that she's happy. Aside from that, I am 100% sure she is fine."

It was your turn to frown. "What? What scan?"

Downey chuckled and looked at you. "Follow me."

Slightly confused, you followed him.

❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊

"So… Mr. Downey?" You called.

"Who is this Downey that you keep speaking of?"

"You, of course!"

"Well," He lifted an eyebrow as he inched closer to you, "my name is Tony Stark. Feel free to call me Tony, not that name of someone I don't even know about. I've never met someone who don't know about me before."

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Well, Tony," You emphasized his name, "if you keep insisting on playing the whole Iron Man act, then I will play along."

"Play?" He mumbled, face now confused. But he decided to say nothing as the elevator dinged and you two exited the cramped lift. He led you to a spacious room. On your way, you looked around. Now you knew why it felt familiar. That place was designed close to the Avengers Compound in the movie. Whoever did this prank, they really outdid themselves.

"And here we are!"

"What took you so long, Tony?"

"Brother Anthony! I see that the lady has woken up!"

"Oh, she's awake."

"Hey, Cap! That girl you saved is awake!"

"She is?"

You gaped.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

"Now I'm sure I must be dreaming." You muttered.

"What was it, sunshine?" Downey, you mean Tony, asked with that annoying smile. "So! Let me introduce you to-"

"Chris Hemsworth, Jeremy Renner, Scarlett Johansson, Elizabeth Olsen, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Ty Simpkins and oh my god it's Tom Holland and Tom Hiddleston. Yes, I know their names, thank you very much." You mumbled under your breath. "

"Okay, dear lady who seems to know whoever name that you've mistaken us for, I will correct those names for you." Tony sighed. "Meet Thor and his brother Loki who finally decided to stop being a menace after almost dying in the hand of evil purple ball sack," he gestured to Hemsworth and Hiddleston.

"Those two scary assassins over there are Clint Barton, known as Hawkeye, and Natasha Romanoff, or Black Widow," then he pointed at Renner and Johansson.

"Wanda Maximoff, also known as Scarlett Witch." Olsen hesitantly waved at you.

"Capsicle, Steve Rogers, and practically-his-boyfriend, Bucky Barnes." Evans looked at Tony disapprovingly while Stan nodded politely at you. "Usually they got a third guy, Sam Wilson, with them, but he's currently visiting his family."

"And lastly, my interns, Peter Parker and Harley Keener. Vision and Banner are somewhere in this Compound."

You scoffed again. "This might be the best time to wake up. Okay, wake up!" You close your eyes and started shaking your head. "Wake up!"

"What are you doing?" Renner, or Clint, asked.

"Why can't I wake up?" You mumbled. You slapped yourself, hard. "OW! DAMN, THAT HURTS!" Your eyes widened.

"It… hurts? So this is not a dream?" Blinking a few times, realization dawned on you. "Oh, this must be a prank. Alright, you got me. What the hell happened to me earlier and who organized this prank?"

Tom Holland looked up and raised a hand, "I can answer that!"

"Nope, you just stay there quietly, Underoos. Take it away, Cap." Tony said, followed by Holland pouting.

What a cute guy. Wait, no, focus!

Evans stepped forward, "I believe I can answer that."

He started explaining that when Peter (nope, it's Tom Holland, it's got to be Holland) was running on the tracks outside, he saw something falling out from the sky at a rapid pace. That something turned out to be you, who were unconscious at the time. Alarmed, he caught you (no, that doesn't make sense, IF I was really falling that fast, he shouldn't be able to catch me that easily without any of us injured) and called for help. They brought you inside and got Doctor Helen Cho (again, that must be Claudia Kim or something) to check you and she cleared you out. Apparently Doctor Stephen Strange (seriously, they got Benedict Cumberbatch here too?!) came by earlier to check you as well and deemed you non-dangerous, so they let you stay in one of the rooms in the Compound until you wake up.

"Ha, nice story, Captain. Come on, be serious here for a second!" You shook your head, "The Avengers isn't real, okay? They're just fiction! A made-up story! As much as I would love for them to be real, they only exist in Marvel Universe and thank goodness Sony and Disney kinda made up and let Spider-Man stays in MCU because otherwise I won't know what to do! Besides, there's just no way someone could have super powers like-"

"You're scared," Olsen stated softly, "I understand. But I know you somehow feel comfortable standing here with us. You recognized us as someone that you knew, someone you actually trust. You… You somehow feel at ease and want to believe us, although your mind keeps telling you that you're dreaming and this is a prank by your best friend (f/n). You're not, this is not."

You took a step back. It suddenly seemed dangerous to be in that room and whatever ease you felt (yes, she was right, you did feel comfortable for some reason) left you immediately. "Okay… I don't know how know that, but clearly there must be something wrong here…"

"Something wrong indeed." Hiddleston sighed in his attractive British accent as he, who was supposed to be sitting on the couch beside Hemsworth, walked pass from behind you with a bottle of coke in his hand.

"I-I thought you were there!" You pointed at the couch.

"I was."

"Then how-"

"It's not hard to teleport, mortal."

"What-"

"Are you okay? You look pale." Renner, who you started to believe was the real Clint Barton, walked towards you.

"No! Stay where you are!"

"Miss-"

You slid down and sat on the floor, pounding head in your hands. "This is not real. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be…" You whispered over and over again in between your short breath. Your heart was racing and your whole body started shaking.

"Miss, take a deep breath-"

"SHUT IT!"

"Boss, the lady seems to be in distress and starting to show symptoms of panic attack."

"Shit. Hey, hey, come on, breathe slowly-"

"I'm sorry, is this the wrong time to come?"

A new voice made you turn around, only to see a weird person with red and green skin wearing a shiny cape coming in, followed by a big green figure.

"V-Vision?" You croaked out.

"Uh, yes. Do I know you?"

And that was the cue for you to pass out.

❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊❊

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"We're not."

"But there's just no way-"

"And there's just no way for you to come from a dimension where it seems so peaceful."

"It's not peaceful! War still happens!"

"Yes, but no outer space threat? Really?"

"It's just a fiction!"

"Well it's not. Look at Loki."

When you regained your consciousness, you were still surrounded by some the Avengers. The real Avengers. It made you accept the fact that it was not, indeed, a dream.

"So, I fell out from the sky," Peter nodded. "and this is the Avengers Compound." He nodded again. "You all have no idea what happened to me since Dr. Strange, Maximoff, Stark, Thor, and even Loki knows nothing." They nodded. "And I can't even remember what happened before it!"

"Hey, we'll found out about it." Vision said reassuringly.

"How do you know that I'm not evil?" You asked.

"He's worthy of Mjölnir, and he can see pass you. He knows." Thor said with a smile.

"Besides Strange said you're fine. Maximoff also doesn't feel any threat coming off from you, and Peter's tingle-" Tony stopped himself, "Uh, I mean, Peter is good at sensing bad people and he's fine."

"Are you sure you can help me regain my memory?" You asked, ignoring the little blunder. You must tell them what you knew later and asked about the timeline. Tony mentioned 'evil grape ball sack' which definitely meant Thanos, but he was alive, along with Natasha and Vision, so there must be something different.

"With all our might."

"How?"

"Well, let's start with you telling us your name."

"It's (y/n), (y/n) (l/n)."

258 notes · View notes

docholligay · 3 years

Note

Doc recommends novels ask: Hi, Doc! I enjoy a fantasy realm or two, but could happily leave the romance/love triangles/etc behind. Also, it would be great to get to know a world that has real impacts and consequences for their magic system, with logical and interesting world-building included. Any recommendations of novels that might fit this description?

This is hard because I don’t generally enjoy fantasy! Which isn’t to say it’s without merit at all, it’s just not something I personally enjoy, partially due to something you bring up, which is that the magic systems are incredibly flexible to the moment, and I don’t much care for that. That and I am less of a person who enjoys building out a fantasy or sci-fi world than I am the person who wants to get into the brass tacks of what people are thinking and feeling and what is the human element of all of it?

"I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are."--His Dark Materials

Honestly the best fantasy series I can think of with this criteria is His Dark Materials. The fantasy is not a distraction from the story and emotions itself, any romance in the story is not something that the story needs or necessarily even wants you to give a shit about, and to some extent, I would argue that it’s there at all. It IS a YA book, which is my only stop point here, but I would argue its one of the more complexly written YA books, and has good prose, some nice grey moralities, and there’s no system in it so complicated that you have to sit down and pattern out the rules around it. It’s a world very much like our own, only slightly different.

It also does a really good job with the nature of goodness and gets into some extremely weird and interesting shit about God that I feel a lot of ways about at once. Can’t recommend the series enough on that level. I have read it as an adult and stand by it, and that’s my Big Test.

"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die." --A Song of Ice and Fire

Ahahahah there was a time I would have recommended A Song of Ice and Fire in this, which, to a point, I LOVED, I started reading it as a ...middle schooler? Maybe young high school? When I started falling out of love with fantasy. I still think the first few books are good, but I think Martin’s biggest problem is he simply took too long, and what is the feel of fantasy now, and what most fantasy readers want, is out of his grasp. Though HONESTLY, if someone took a series of mine I hadn’t finished and made me fucking millions, would I keep writing? Or would I be like, “Aw, I’m retired now, I’m good”? I dunno, it’s easy to pretend you have morals when no one’s giving you ten million dollars. But it also didn’t rely SO heavily on magic or anything, it was mostly about political machination.

"where the world ends is where you must begin" --The Gunslinger

I almost forgot that The Gunslinger would actually completely be termed as fantasy. The Gunslinger is a fucking fantastic novel by Stephen King. I avoided reading the entire Dark Tower series for years, because people kept telling me, “Oh it’s nothing like Stephen King” and well I happen to very much like King’s THING, even when it aggravates me, so why would I read something that is nothing like him? Fortunately, what they meant was, “It’s not a horror novel.” I don’t know if I can recommend the entire series even though *I* ended up fucking loving it--I read the whole series in a year and that was with a huge break, but if I said it didn’t have it’s occasionally aggravating moments, I would be lying. But when it’s amazing, it’s so amazing, and the first book is all killer, no filler, and if you just wanted to leave it there, that would be fine. If you DO read the series...read the cliffnotes on Wizard and Glass, it’s boring as shit, and it’s clearly all of King’s backstory notes on Roland while he was trying to get back to writing the series, and like, no hate, but also, it made me stop reading the series for months. Wolves of the Calla, the one that comes after it, is an IMMENSELY fun fantasy-western, which in many ways I guess the series as a whole is? But mostly Wolves of the Calla.

“Time and I have quarrelled. All hours are midnight now. I had a clock and a watch, but I destroyed them both. I could not bear the way they mocked me.”--Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell

This one is given with caveats--I haven’t read it since I was eighteen, and it might not be as good as I remember it being. I’ll look to reread it next year. But I know at the time I adored it! It has a really fun style to the writing that echoes the style of Dickens and the larger styles of the era, which makes the book an immense amount of fun for people named Doc, who are me. It is an INTENSELY English novel in a number of ways, and how both Strange and Norell can be so strangely (hah) fussy and so competent, and yet inept and caught up in their own petty backbiting drama (especially with each other--the story is, in many ways, about their friendship) just absolutely charmed the shit out of me as a youth. Now I want to reread it ahaha. It’s also, as I recall, a pretty easy read, though long.

"What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally spit in the eye of destiny?" --The Dresden Files

Ohhhhhh boy does this come with caveats. This is a popcorn pulp series. It is a popcorn pulp series that at a certain point fails to deliver even on that promise. But for the first, oh, eight or nine novels, GOD did I love the Dresden Files. One of my favorite things was that it made me discover that though fantasy largely does not speak to me, I can quite love what I have come to find out is called ‘Urban Fantasy”. It had me from the moment where it was like, “Our world, but wizards are real, and they also have to go buy milk at the store” and I was like, “Oh fucking sold” because it allowed me to get into magic without all the “She was born of the CLydroffer lineage of witches, which took their power from air. She ran down to the village of Stratford-upon-Badger’s Nose and took to seeing the local Scriddonk” and anyway, avoiding the medieval setting made me enjoy it so much the more. They have a very fun lawful good character, Harry is that kind of smug asshole protagonist that’s JUST this side of enjoyable, and while there’s romance, up to a certain point at which I hope you abandon the sinking ship, you can ignore it. Like I said, they’re not any great literary giant, but they’re immense fun in the way that like, Anita Blake was fun for awhile (for my mother at least) or Anne Rice.*

*I don’t know what this counts as, but Interview With the Vampire is a hell of a book. I can’t really recommend the others. I might, weirdly, have a copy upstairs in paperback? If you want it I’ll send it along, if I do.

#Eight Days 2020 #Doc Reads #amberlilly

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bluebellhairpin · 4 years

Text

Some Kind of Magic

Stephen Strange X Fem!Doctor!Reader

A/N: Oops. I love the doctor now. - Nemo

Warning(s): Alternate Endgame ending. Doctor talk. Tony Stark on drugs. Morgan asks questions.

Summary: She’s a doctor and so is he. The only difference is one was able to keep Tony Stark alive while the other couldn’t.

Masterlist

It took an army of superheroes to defeat Thanos the second time he came to earth, and it took another army of heroes to deal with what was left behind.

Where people like Captain America and the Wakandan Army physically fought against Thanos, others like firefighters and ambulance staff had to deal with what was left behind. It was those other heroes that meant Tony Stark was still alive.

Even so, it had been a week and he was yet to wake up. A week since he saved the world. A week since he was hurriedly taken to the nearest hospital. A week since Dr.(y/n) (l/n) operated on a man as if it were her own life she was saving.

She barely let anyone know she was the one to fix him up. She didn’t want the attention, to her that wasn’t what being a doctor was about. She was in it to help people, not to become some sort of hero.

But to think that not even five years ago she was nothing but a student at her hometowns nearest University seemed like a dream compared to what she was now.

Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Peter, and Stephen were the five that barely left the hospital the whole time Tony was there. Waiting in one of the ICU’s waiting rooms while the doctors did their rounds was one of the worst parts of the day, even if it was the place with a TV to break the silence that was always there when they sat with Tony.

Stephen wondered if all the patient's relatives felt like he did, but he knew he hated the waiting.

----------

(y/n) was set to doing her rounds, checking up on her last patient for the day when the subject in question stirred. And, after eight days, Tony Stark woke up.

She quickly spoke to the nurse with her, telling him to go fetch his small group of permanent visitors. She was sure they’d want to see him, and vice versa.

(y/n) could see him start to gain his bearings, and that he was about to ask questions, so she stepped forwards at the foot of his bed, a light smile on her face, and waited for his eyes to find her.

“Afternoon Mr. Stark. Good to see you awake.” she said moving around to check his monitors and drip, and started to scribble down notes on the clipboard. “I’ve sent for your family, but you need to take it easy.” she looked down at the man as he watched her with as much interest as someone being pumped full with morphine could, ”But I don’t think that’d be too much trouble.” she finished with a smile.

“Daddy!” the young girl Morgan said, her mother in tow as they both came in. Luckily (y/n) had no need to tell them to be careful; the nurse must’ve warned them beforehand, and they treated Tony very gently.

(y/n) smiled, noting down a couple last things on the clipboard before hooking it back down at the end of the bed and leaving as Happy and Peter came in.

Stephen was the last to venture into the ICU ward, wanting those who Tony meant more to to have their moments with him first, and because of that he was able to see the doctor who saved his friend.

She was just leaving Tony’s room, hair pulled back away from her face, and clad in her white coat. He’d never seen her before, even though he’d wanted to since Tony first came out of surgery.

She’d done an amazing job on him, even the scars on Tony’s face would heal neatly enough that they wouldn’t be horrible to look at, and Stephen desperately wondered where she was when he needed someone with a hand like that.

“Hey, Miss!” he found himself calling after her to get her attention. He stopped just short of her, and she turned back to him with a smile.

“Yes sir, can I help you?” she asked, then tapped her forehead with a finger. “Right! You’re one of Mr. Stark’s friends. He’s awake now. You can go see him if you’d like-”

“I’m not here for him.” Stephen said, catching himself, “I mean, I am here at the hospital because of him, but I’m not ‘here’ here because of him - actually I am - I just…” he trailed off, seeing the younger doctor trying to hide her laughter.

“You can just ask me, no explaining. I won't bite.” How she knew he wanted to ask her questions was beyond him, he was just grateful he was able to stop making a mess of himself. He was never like this.

“You operated on Tony, right?” She nodded.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been checking up on him whenever doctors do their rounds?”

“Correct.”

“I’ve never heard of you before-” he took a look at her lapel, “Doctor (l/n).”

“There is a reason for that, Doctor Strange.” She started with a smile, moving back to the nurses station to start looking through papers as she spoke. “After the ‘Snap’ a surprising amount of doctors disappeared. With the casualties it also caused nurses had to step up to be doctors, and students and interns to replace the nurses. I was a nurse working in a smaller hospital in Brooklyn when it happened, then moved towards wherever I was needed.”

“So before you weren’t a doctor, now you are and you were needed here.” Stephen concluded, mind working fast to try and detract his fingers from twitching so much.

“I was needed here.” She echoed. “I was called out when word spread about Thanos arriving, so I was sent to this hospital encase some big surgery was needed, or to help out with smaller ones.” She shrugged, seeming to not think too much of what she did.

“Thank you.” Stephen said, placing a hand on the bench next to her papers. “A lot of people will think they owe you favors for how you helped him. Me included.”

“You don’t need to owe me a favor, you’ve done enough.” she said, letting out a short laugh, “And it’s my job. I’ve operated on worse than Stark.” she added with a mumble, scribbling down a signature on one of the papers before neatening them and passing them down to a nurse.

“You saved the man who saved the world.”

“You saved my dad.” Morgan said, appearing from the doorway of Stark’s room, a smile on her face as the other looked on. She let out a sigh, smiling, then knelt down in front of the smaller girl.

“It wasn’t just me. There’s always others that help. I couldn’t have operated on your father without the other doctors or the nurses being there to help. It’s always a team.” (y/n) spoke with such kindness and in such a way that Morgan would understand, Stephen was sure she dealt with children before adults. “Even you coming in a reading your books to him everyday helped save him, I’m sure of it.” Morgan smiled at that, and so did everyone in Tony’s room.

Even Tony did, even though he probably had no idea why. His head was completely up in the clouds, but he knew that he was okay. They won. He was safe. Everyone was. That was enough to smile about.

“Did I really?” Morgan asked with a giggle, looking back at her dopey father. “He was sleeping!”

“He definitely was. And he deserved that big sleep too.” (y/n) laughed along lightly, before walking with the girl into the room to start explaining procedures and when Tony could be emitted to the others.

It was all stuff Stephen was familiar with, and he wasn’t paying much attention anyway, she sure as hell knew what she was talking about, and the others were soaking in her words like a sponge with water.

“If you have any questions you can ask now,” she finished, looking around at the small group, “Or you could wait until tomorrow when Mr. Stark would be more awake?” They all stayed somewhat quiet, seeming to take the latter option, but Morgan’s inquisitive child-like nature kicked in once more.

“Are all doctors magic? Like Stephen?” she asked, looking up at the (more real) doctor. “The nurse before said it was a miracle he woke up. Magicians to miracles.”

“A miracle for sure, Miss. Morgan, but magic?” (y/n) shook her head, smiling once more, and looking back at Stephen. “Must be some kind of magic.”

#stephen strange x reader #stephen strange one shot #stephen strange imagine #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #tony stark x reader

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iwantthedean · 5 years

Text

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part Three: Granny Smith. Tart and crisp.

Summary: Jensen spends more time around town. Y/N makes an effort to keep the farm in the family name. Pairing: None … yet. Word Count: 2198 Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :)

Masterlist

You spent the weekend more or less not speaking to anyone, just baking away your frustration. Jensen’s deceit hung heavy in your mind and sent you through a maze of emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger. Sad because someone was actually going to make an offer on the farm -- one you probably wouldn’t be able to match, let alone beat. Disappointment because, at your age, you thought you were past being played by guys. Finally, anger because the man had swooped in, handsome and charming, but turned out to be a complete fake.

By Monday morning, the anger part of all of that had more or less taken over. You slammed a coffee cup down from the cupboard in the teacher’s lounge. You poured your coffee, then slammed the pot back down onto the burner. Everything was getting slammed around, and you were mumbling under your breath about the jerk who had come to your farm only to steal it away from you.

“Jerk? More like an ass,” you grumbled, turning to leave as you sipped your coffee; you gasped when you saw your friend Taylor standing there, arms crossed over her chest and brow raised.

“Rough weekend, Y/N?” she asked.

You sighed and cleared your throat. “Yeah, a little. You getting coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ve got to go set up for my morning lesson. Meet me in my classroom?”

“Deal.”

You made way for your classroom, and Taylor was only a few minutes behind. She took a seat at the horseshoe-shaped table you used to work with student groups, and you took a seat in your chair across from her while you stapled activity packets.

“I have to sell the farm, for starters.”

“What? You’re kidding!” Taylor exclaimed.

You nodded. “Yeah. The money’s just -- it’s not a good situation. Anyway, after our half-day, I was going to do some work around the place, and this handsome stranger pulls up. Tall, sandy brown hair, green eyes. A little older than me, probably. Anyway, he tells me he’s just visiting and wanted to check out the farm. So we went apple picking and went to the pumpkin patch. We had all these flirty moments and cute looks --” You paused to groan at your own stupidity. “-- and then I went inside to get him a bag for the apples he picked, and Mr. Kemp pulls up in the driveway because this ass was there to see the farm to potentially buy it!”

“And he didn’t tell you? What is that about?” Taylor frowned. “We could figure out where he’s staying, get into his room, and … I don’t know. Do something … horrible.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, T, I bet if I give you enough time, you could maybe finish that plan.”

“Shut up,” she said, laughing along with you. “Look, don’t let him get to you, okay? The more important thing, it seems to me, is how you’re going to keep the farm. Let’s focus on that. Have you talked to the bank?”

“Yes. Mr. Kemp helped me get all the paperwork I need, and I take it all to the bank tomorrow after school. I won’t get a decision right away, which means I’ll be anxious as all get out until they give me an answer.”

Taylor nodded. “What did your dad say?”

You licked your lips and sighed, stacking the finished packets in front of you. “I haven’t called him yet. I will when I have more concrete information.”

“Maybe he could help …” She trailed off when you shook your head before the sentence was even done. Noting the first bell was going to ring soon, she put a hand on your arm. “Just keep your chin up, okay? Everything’s going to work out. I know it.”

You gave her the ghost of a grateful smile. “Thanks, Taylor. Go ahead, get to class. I’ll talk to you at lunch.”

“I’ll try to have a plan to get back at Mr. Handsome by then,” she teased, winking at you as she left the classroom.

* * * * *

For the third day in a row, Jensen was visiting The Farmer’s Stand. Just as planned, he had stopped there after leaving the orchard and purchased a jar of applesauce. He went back the next day for apple butter and a package of cookies that hadn’t been on the shelf the day before, as well as a loaf of homemade bread. Today, he was here for another jar of applesauce.

There was only one on the shelf, so he snatched it up before anyone else could. He perused through the market, also selecting a loaf of pumpkin bread marked from Y/N’s farm. At the register, Ms. Kitty rung up his items with a kind smile.

“Are we going to be seeing you every day, Jensen?” she asked. He appreciated that she remembered his name, though he would venture a guess that she remembered just about everybody who came through the market.

He chuckled. “Keep selling all this yummy stuff and I probably will. You know, food at the hotel is pretty good, but is there anywhere else you’d recommend in town?”

She nodded earnestly. “Midge’s Cafe, over on Ninth. Today’s beef stew day, actually -- comes with mashed potatoes and a freshly-baked roll. Their pie is great too, but I think you’ve got plenty of sweets here.”

“That I do,” Jensen agreed. “How much do I owe you?”

Ms. Kitty gave him a total. “Have you visited the apple orchard yet?”

Why did that question feel like a trick? “I have, yes. Met Y/N while I was there.”

The older woman sighed. “Such a shame she’s got to sell the place. This town was two-bit until their family came in and planted the orchard. They were plenty well off, but they started the pumpkin patch so the kids could have somewhere in town to go on field trips -- not because they had any need.”

Jensen took the bag of things he had purchased from her. “She said she’s the fourth generation to own the place.”

“She wasn’t lying. I’m sure you would have guessed, but I went to school with her grandfather, and my kids went to school with her father. Let me tell you -- that whole family is as sweet as Y/N. Every single one of them. Honest, hard-working, kind. When my son took over this place after my husband passed away, he wanted to stop doing business with them, for whatever reason.” She waved her hand, not worried at all about the particulars of that situation, it seemed. “Anyway, I wouldn’t allow it. You just don’t do that to good people, and Stephen doesn’t understand that. Whoever takes over the place, we’ll see if they want to continue to do business with us, I suppose.”

“They’d be crazy not to,” Jensen offered. “Thanks for everything, Ms. Kitty. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled and waved goodbye. Jensen enjoyed visiting with her, but today, he was happy to get out of there. Hearing about Y/N’s family and how much they meant to the town only made him feel worse about potentially buying the place. Nevermind that he couldn’t get the glare Y/N had given him out of his mind -- a look he well-deserved.

As he drove over to the diner, he passed the elementary school. He smiled a little as he watched the kids play while he waited at the red light. This town was idyllic, a simple respite from the hustle and bustle of the last fifteen years of his life. His smile faded some when he spotted Y/N supervising the playground. She was zipping up the jacket of a little boy who was grinning wide while she talked to him. Once his jacket was zipped, the little boy hugged her leg before running off to join his friends again.

The driver behind him honked his horn; Jensen snapped his attention back to traffic. The light was green, so he proceeded through the intersection toward the cafe.

* * * * *

You honestly weren’t expecting an answer from the bank until the following week, so when you saw a missed call from them after school ended on Thursday, you heart immediately began to race. The message from the bank manager was asking you to come in and see her, so you went straight there once the parking lot cleared out.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” she smiled, motioning to the chair across from her. Please, have a seat.”

Sitting. That was good, right? That meant you’d be there for a while, potentially. Going over loan documents and signing papers, maybe? Oh for Heaven’s sake, Y/N. Just sit down.

“I’ve gone over all of the documents you brought over, and I spoke with Bartholomew Kemp -- he spoke very highly on your behalf.”

“He’s a very good friend to our family.”

She set her elbows on the desk. “Unfortunately, Y/N, you simply don’t have the financial background we like to see in our loan candidates. I even tried for a smaller amount, the minimum of what you would need to keep the farm for a while longer, buy you some time -- but it was a no-go.”

You forced yourself not to cry in the bank office. “But … I don’t understand. We’ve been banking with you all for years. My first auto loan was through this bank. My father kept my college fund here. My grandfather --”

The bank manager held up a hand. “Let me stop you there. Your family has history in this town, I’m well aware. And, if this was fifty or sixty years ago, maybe that would hold. It just doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“I understand,” you replied quietly. “Thank you, for the update. I’ll -- okay. Thank you.”

You took a deep breath, put your jacket back on, and shouldered your bag. In the car, you told yourself it was okay to cry, but you couldn’t even force the tears. You were just … numb. If you couldn’t get a bank loan, you didn’t know what else you would do, or could do.

“Guess it’s time to call Dad,” you sighed. As soon as you got home, you dialed the number and settled on the front porch swing to break the news to him.

* * * * *

Jensen sighed and hung up the phone. Bartholomew Kemp had just called to let him know that the owner of the farm was taking offers, and if he would like to place one, he just needed to email it over to Bartholomew. He wasn’t the only one making an offer, so if he was going to throw his hat in the ring, he needed to do it soon.

His lawyer sent over the written offer; Jensen printed it in the hotel’s business center, and walked it into Bartholomew’s office himself.

“I know you said to email it, but I wasn’t doing much anyway,” Jensen explained, letting go of a nervous chuckle. “So, is -- is Y/N pretty upset?”

Bartholomew looked up, brow raised. “Uh, yes, I suppose she is. Rightfully so.”

Jensen nodded and thanked the other man for his time. He left the office and sat in the car for several minutes, contemplating his next move.

The front office staff at the elementary school was kind enough to tell him how to find Y/N’s classroom, and informed him she was on her lunch break. No doubt the modest bouquet of Autumn flowers piqued the secretary’s interest, but he just made his way out of the office and down the hallway.

She was sitting at a table in the room with another teacher, and her eyes grew wide when she spotted him just inside the doorway of her classroom.

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?” The greeting and phrase fell out of her mouth in a panic as she stood. “Oh, um, this is Taylor. She teaches here, too. And she’s my friend. Taylor, this is Jensen Ackles. He -- yeah. This is Jensen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Taylor greeted, giving him the kind of tight smile that told him Taylor knew about his omission of the truth when he first met Y/N.

He cleared this throat. “This all seemed like a better idea in my head, honestly, but since I’m here … um, I am trying to learn from my mistakes and I thought I would come here, offer you the flowers to apologize for not telling you the entire truth when we first met and also to … let you know that I made an offer to Mr. Kemp today.”

Her surprised expression transformed to the anger he had expected. She took the flowers from him and set them on the table. “Well, thanks for the head’s up, I guess.”

“Yeah, I thought you should probably know, in case I’m around the farm again, so it doesn’t take you by surprise.”

“Great.”

Y/N sat back down and resumed her lunch. Taylor kept her back to Jensen. The silence was uncomfortable. He stumbled around his words for a few more tries, then exited the room. He sarcastically and silently congratulated himself for such a smooth interaction.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967 @maddiepants @littlewhiterose @tftumblin @monkeymcpoopoo @pinknerdpanda @thatgirl1456 @deangirl7695 @foxyjwls007 @woodworthti666

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issabangtanfic · 5 years

Text

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 2)

Masterlist

Synopsis: When for once rich doesn’t rhyme with Christian Grey.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

“Why?” I frown, cofused, even though I know I should just shut up and thank him given the position I'm putting my company in.

“I thought you hated my vision.” I murmur. His eyes light up, and he gives me a soft smile.

“It’s all the contrary. I love your vision, Maya.” He croons, my whole body going rigid. Oh, please.

“Mi-“

“Miss Fair.” He corrects himself. I swallow.

“Then why didn’t you give me the project for your mansion?” I ask him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Because this is much more important to me.” He counters.

“Huh.” Is all I manage to say. I don't understand his logic. I should be the last person he gives such an important project to then.

“Wanna see what it looks like?” He proposes, jerking his head towards the house. I nod, my curiosity getting the best of me. Mr Jeon leads me up the stairs to the porch.

This house doesn’t even have a door. It’s just a big plywood board with a metal chain on each side, chains that are attached to the house by two hooks and two big locks. Mr Jeon fishes the keys out of his pocket, opening each lock. He then lifts the board effortlessly and moves it to the side to reveal the inside of this old guy.

We step in, and I discover a dark and desolated place. The left wing of the house is closed off by a door, and in front of me lay old wooden stairs that lead to the upper floor. The only point of light comes from the open room on our right, the high column where the windmill is. My feet carry me inside that room, the old wood crackling and squeaking under my heels. A stuffy smell of rotten wood invades my nostrils, and I absolutely love it. This definitly is an old guy.

The room we walk in is the living room, one of the most beautiful spaces I’ve seen in my life. The room is high, really high. Easily dwarfing the ten meters I had guessed. And it’s luminous, bathed in light by two humongous bullseye windows, making the inside look like a ship of some kind.

The furniture is covered by big white pieces of cloth, and I’m dying to uncover them. I guess the shape of a couch, two armchairs, a table and a cabinet by the windows, and a bar on the left where there are no windows.

If half of the cylindric room is covered by windows, the other half has a huge embedded bookshelf as a wall. I’ve never seen anything like this except in harry potter. A huge wall of books, easily covering half of the height of the room, and a ladder that can slide across it.

Oh wow.

At the far end of the room, there is a small metallic spiral staircase that leads to a small platform at the very top of the room, and I guess it’s the windmill maintenance area.

“So?” I hear Mr Jeon ask expectingly.

Is this, like, his childhood home? Someone clearly has spent a lot of time here. Was it him? His parents? Windmill houses are usually found in America, and he has an American accent, it wouldn’t be surprising if this was family home.

But it’s odd. The whole Poudlar spaceship spirit of it makes it look like some kind of… big child room. A place where you’d come to escape reality, far from the city.

“It’s…” I trail off, trying to put a word on all of my thoughts. This house speaks to me, and I can feel that it’s filled with meaningful moments and memories.

“Heavy.” I breathe, my shoulders sagging. I look up at him and watch his eyebrows slightly furrow.

“Heavy.” He repeats, looking at me intently. I shy from his gaze, focusing on these beautiful windows again. That’s when I notice the fireplace.

“Take a look at this.” He offers, pulling my attention back to him. He strides across the room, towards the metal stairs, and grabs the wall. Thats when I notice a crank I hadn’t seen before.. He grabs it, and it must be rusty, unsurprisingly, because he has to put some strength on it to get it to spin. When he finally gets it moving, I hear the sound of heavy metal rustling.

The sound comes from above, so I lift my eyes, and see the ceiling opening. Wow! The roof of the windmill is actually made of blinds, against glass. And as Mr Jeon turns the crank, the blinds lift up to reveal the sunny blue sky.

“Woah.” I breathe as I’m starting to get bathed in sunlight. Now that is luminous!

“That’s amazing!” I laugh in delight. This is so cool! But who the hell would’ve thought of that back then?

“And also, really strange.” I had, now that I think of it.

“You should see it in the night.” He says, pulling my eyes back down to him. He’s taking slow but confident steps towards me. I don’t answer, my eyes glued to his face. I hope he’s not going to stand too close to me.

“You can see thousands of stars. There’s not much light pollution.” He adds, still walking to me. I’m tempted to take a step back, but that would give away my lack of composure. He stops when he’s unreasonably close to me, as if he knew it would make my heart pound in my ears.

He knows.

“You can even see Saturn, in the summer.” He finishes. I look up at him. Not knowing what to say, unable to form any decent answer to that. He smells so, fucking divine, It’s giving me a head rush.

“You in on this?” He asks softly. I manage a small nod, swallowing a big lump in my throat. The corner of his mouth curls up.

“Good.” He says, his lips twitching, refraining a grin. Good? This is anything but good. He’s trouble. Is he not going to move?

His phone rings in his pocket, and I take the opportunity to look away and step back from him. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and looks at the caller’s ID.

“I have to take this.” He says, looking up at me. “Make yourself at home.”

I manage another small nod, and he strolls out of the room to take his call. Sighing, I place my bag on the bar and walk over to the covered furniture. I pull a cover, revealing a leather couch and also sending dust into the air.

I cough, taking a look at the fine piece of work. This could stay here. But I’m more intrigued by the bookshelves. I cover the couch back and take my heels off, walking to the ladder. I slide it across the wall and climb to the top, grabbing a random book.

Curiosities of the sky by Garrett P. Serviss.

Astronomy.

I put it back and grab another one.

A brief history of Time by Stephen Hawking.

Astrophysics. This place is a spaceship! I open it and find a note on the inside.

For my neutron star Jungkook. Don’t aim for the stars but for Canis Majoris. Love A-

I have no idea what this means. But at least I know Mr Jeon has lived here. And he’s keen on space science. What an actual nerd.

The squeaky floor boards announce Mr Jeon’s return way before he enters the room again. I look down at the doorway until he appears, and notice his tie is gone and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. Yum.

His eyes land on me and widen.

“What are you doing?” He scolds, pacing towards me.

I thought I could make myself at home!

“I’m sorry, I thought I could look around.” I stutter, surprised.

“Of course you can, but not. like this. Do you realise how high this is?” He mutters. I look down at him, realising he has to bend his neck to look at me.

Damn, I am high.

He could see my knickers!

“I’m scared you’ll fall.” He murmurs, holding his hand out to me, inviting me to come down. He’s scared I’ll fall? Well, he better stop making me so dizzy.

I place the book back on the shelf and proceed to step down the ladder.

“Where are your shoes?” I hear him ask from under me.

“Erm…”

“In such an old house, that’s dangerous.” He lectures. Yeah, yeah, whatever.

I look down at him, and he’s still offering his hand. I have no choice but to take it. I decide to jump down the last step.

You could get a sh-“

“Ow!” I cry.

“Shard in your foot. Well, congratulations.” He mutters. I hop on one foot, my heel stinging painfully. I don’t know what I just landed on, but it was not a shard!

“Careful.” I hear him mutter, and suddenly I’m sent flying as he scoops me up in his arms. I gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck so I don’t fall off, but shocked this is happening. I’m in his arms, and they are strong. He has a hand on my back and the other curled around the back of my knees.

My eyes bulge out of their sockets and I feel my face heating up. I feel hot in my cheeks and my heart is racing. This is both hell and paradise.

“Let’s see.” He breathes, walking to the couch. He sets me down on it and sits on the adjacent armchair’s arm, grabbing my leg and setting my injured foot on his knee.

My face is about to explode. He takes a look at the underside of my foot.

“You’ll have to take your stockings off.” He declares, looking up at me.

And I know. I know myself and I know, my face is bloodshot and I’m busted from miles away. Mum and Dad always tell me this will bring me troubles, blushing that hard that easily, now I know why.

I blink and swallow, not knowing what to do.

I take a minute process things. My dress is knee-length but it’s flowey, so it won’t rise up to my waist if I reach under it. If I ask him to turn around, he’ll make fun of me. I must act confident,.

Looking away from his eyes so I don’t see his reaction, I carefully reach under my dress and grab the waistline of my stockings, lifting my bum to slide them down.

When I’m past my bum and reach halfway down my thighs, his hands cover mine, and he “helps” me get the rest off without having to bend. But the way he does, it sends my body in a frenzy. He doesn’t take my stockings off, he caresses my legs, sliding his hands down on my skin and dragging the stockings with them.

Heat licks along my skin and I let out a shaky breath, shocked by his boldness but too focused on not letting it show. My stockings come off, and I exhale deeply.

His thumb strokes my ankle as he lifts up my foot, and I chew down on my lip, not wanting to make a sound. Suddenly, his phone vibrates again.

Halle-fucking-lujah!

“I’ll take care of it.” I declare, removing my foot from his lap. “Take the call.”

He nearly yanks my foot back onto his knee.

“While you’re bleeding all over my floor?” He mutters. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not that much of an asshole.”

Not that much? So he knows he’s an arse.

“So, you’re aware that you were a arse to me yesterday?” I ask, my feverish body making me brazen. He examines my foot carefully, tugging on a shard.

“I’m... merciless, when it comes to business.” He muses, removing a shard with a sharp movement.

“Ow.”

“Sometimes it’s a quality, sometimes it a flaw and costs me a lot.” He says, pensive. This is dangerously close to an apology.

“Is that your way of saying you’re sorry?” I try.

“No it’s not.” He retorts, pulling another shard out of my foot. I scowl at him.

“Would you happen to have tweezers?” He asks casually, looking up at me and ignoring my scowl. I blink at him.

“In my bag, yes.” I indicate. When he stands, I sag against the couch, rubbing the bridge of my nose. This man is so attractive, I hate feeling like this. I know men like him.

He comes back with my tweezers.

“You went through my bag?” I ask, shocked. I thought he’d bring it to me!

“Well, that’s where the tweezers were.” He retorts, sitting back down on the armchair, ignoring my semblance of annoyance. He grabs my foot again.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s very rude to snoop in a lady’s bag?” I mutter, readjusting my position.

“Stop moving, woman.” He mutters. Rude!

“There.” He declares, pulling out what feels like a huge chunk of wood. I hiss in pain.

“That’s a nasty cut. You’re still bleeding. I’ll see if I can find bandages somewhere.” He declares before leaving again. He comes back a few moments later with bandages and disinfectant.

He cuts a piece of bandages and pours some disinfectant on it, before bringing it to my heel. The product stings.

“Ow!” I squeal, removing my foot from his hold.

“Maya.” He calls, grabbing my foot back. Will he stop?!

“It’s Miss Fair.” I grind out, yanking myself out of his reach. He looks up at me, sighing deeply, his tongue briefly poking at the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

“Yeah, as soon as I get this disinfected.” He mutters. Huffing, I reluctantly give him my foot, letting him do his business and wrap it up in some bandages.

“Done.” He declares once he’s finished.

“Thank you.” I mumble, because I’m that. He places his medical equipment on the covered table.

“I guess that’s enough designing for today. Wait here.” He announces before rising and disappearing. He comes back with my bag and hands it to me. I take it and stands, and before I can even take an actual step I’m flying again.

“Jesus Christ!” I yell in surprise as he scoops me up again. What the heck? “Mr Jeon, I can walk.”

“Clumsy as you are, you might break a leg.” He mutters, casually walking towards the exit, with me in his arms. I clench my jaw.

I am the clumsy type, but this is wrong!

“I am not clumsy. You can put me down.” I try not to sound like I’m begging, but I bloody am.

“ I insist.” He retorts, stepping out of the house. Oh, how fucking perfect. He carries me over to my car, but heads for the passenger side.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Taking you home.”

I start to panic.

“I can drive, really.” I blurt out, stumbling over my own words. He sets me down in front of the passenger door.

“This is really unnecessary.” I murmur, looking up at him.

“I don’t feel comfortable knowing you’re driving with an injured foot.” He shrugs a shoulder, narrowing his eyes at me because of the sun in his face. He looks perfect in the sun. I imagine him in shades and a V neck. Mmmh..

“Injured is a big word.” I retort. He opens in mouth and I’m not having any of this.

“And, I don’t feel comfortable with you taking me home.” I say before he can argue, reminding him he’s a client and I’m not going to cross this line with him.

He frowns, staring at me for a moment, his face a knot of confusion. Finally, he scoffs.

“Listen to me, lady.” He admonishes. Lady?

“I know I affect you, and you should know the feeling’s mutual, but this,” He pauses, taking a small pause and knocking the air out of my lungs. “Has nothing to do with how bad I want to have sex with you.”

I mean, I knew he knew I was attracted to him. I keep making a show of myself whenever I see him, but I didn't think it would be mutual! Oh, and the way the word "sex" sounds in his mouth is filthy and filled with promises.

Oh my god, if I come home with him, he might just-

“I’m not giving you the keys.” I say sternly. His lips curl up and he seems pleased.

“I see you’re not denying it.’ He murmurs.

Oh bloody hell!

“Oh, and I already have them.” He says, fishing them out of his pocket and holding them up. Bloody bastard!

"In." He jerks his chin.

"In not going home, I have to go to my office." I try.

"At this time?"

"Yes."

"To your office we go then. Hop in." He pipes up, unlocking my car and opening the door for me. I make a desperate attempt to snatch my keys out of his hand.

I fail, and he smirks at me.

“Cheeky.” He murmurs. “I like that.”

There’s a detonation inside me and blood rushes to my face. This is just getting worse. I thought just being around him was hard, but how am I supposed to keep calm when he teases me like this?

Huffing, I get into the car just because I can’t stand the way he looks at me.

"I'll get the door. Don't go anywhere." He says to me before closing the door. While he’s good I take a look at myself in the rearview. I’m one messy tomato. I sag against the seat, defeated.

I groan. When will I stop being a fucking impressible? I have no fucking taste in men. Ugh.

When Mr Jeon finishes closing off the house, he gets in my mini, cramming his frame into my tiny car. he pushes the seat all the way back and still looks like a clown in a clown car.

I don’t make any remarks though, I don’t think he’d laugh at himself. he ride to my office is silent and feels like an eternity because he just had to look smoking hot while driving.

He parks in front of the office and gets out the car. I don’t wait for him to open my door for me, and I don’t even know if he was going to. I kick my shoes off and leave the there before getting off as well.

“And now on the concrete? Miss Fair, how much do you hate shoes?” He utters while circling my car.

“A lot.” I mutter.

“Here.” He says, bending to grab the back of my knees.

“That’s enough!” I squeal, swatting his hands away. Not on the bloody street! Is he mental?

His brow furrows. I clear my throat.

“My keys, please.” I ask sternly , holding my palm up. Sighing, he hands them back to me.

“Thank you for the ride.” I say before turning on my heels.

“What about when you go home later?” He calls from behind me.

“I’ll manage.” I reply, looking over my shoulder. “Thanks for worrying.” I add before disappearing inside the building. I sigh deeply, feeling exhausted. My foot doesn’t even hurt that much.

This man is mentally exhausting. I feel more drained by an hour with him than by a full day at work. And I’ll have to see him again and again until the project is finished! What am I going to do with myself?

I make it up to my office to grab my sketchbook, and on my desk lay a bouquet of flowers. Frowning, I take a closer look, discovering a card with the white Roses. I open it, and it says:

I’m sorry. - J x

So he is sorry after all! And he sent flowers to apologize? So that’s what he meant. He said his speech about him being merciless wasn’t his way of saying sorry because he had sent a whole bouquet of flowers to my office.

When I realise my smile is reaching my ears, I pul myself back together and put the card back. I’ll deal with that tomorrow. I grab my sketch book and head back out, taking a moment to reply to my Mum’s text asking why I din’t call her after work.

Worked late today. I’ll call you when I come home. Love you lots x

While I’m sending the text, I feel my car keys being snatched from my hand.

“Ah!” I yelp, feeling myself flying again. And here I am again, in Mr Jeon’s arms, confused and nearly having a heart attack.

“Walking down the stairs with your eyes glued to you phone and an injured foot.” He mutters, walking me down the stairs. What in hell?

“It’s like you want to get hurt.” He grumbles.

“Put me down! What are you doing here?” I utter, in deep shock. He waited outside?

"Taking you home.”

“I said I was fine!”

“And I don’t want to take the risk.” He retorts, circling my car and bringing me to the passenger’s side.

“You’re taking care of a life project of mine. I don’t want you to die on me.” He explains, letting me down. I take a step back,, leaning against my car huffing and puffing.

“Pretty sure driving with a stinging foot isn’t going to kill me.” I mutter, smoothing my hair and tugging my dress down.

“Not taking the risk.” He counters, opening the door.

“Mr Jeon.” I grab the door.

“Mind your head.” He says, taking advantage of my lack of balance and pushing me down onto the seat. I groan, frustrated at him.

It’s not like I can do much to stop him. He has the keys and he seems stubborn as heck. Grumbling to myself, I let him get in the driver’s seat and take me home. I guide him to my house, relieved when we make it in front of my home. I wait for him to join me on the pavement, and he gives me my keys back before leaning against my car.

“Did you receive my flowers?” He asks me.

Oh.

“Yes.” I reply. “They’re pretty.”

“Do you accept my apology?” He enquires, stepping in front of me, trapping me between him and my car. I swallow and nod.

“Great.” He smiles to me.

“Now that I’m forgiven, I think we should drop the honorifics.” He proposes.

“This whole Miss Fair Mr Jeon thing is getting old.” He shrugs. Oh hell no!

“I’d rather we didn’t.” I counter.

“Why?”

“I don’t call my clients by their name.” I lie.

“Well, in case you still haven’t figured, I hope to be more than a client to you.” He replies, his tone changing, becoming low and inviting. I refrain a gasp and try to hold his smoldering gaze.

“Mr Jeon, this is highly inappropriate.” My voice is almost as quiet as a whisper.

“Yeah.” He breathes, nodding. Yeah?

Yeah, it’s inappropriate, and he knows it. What kind of excuse was that. Everything about this is inappropriate, I bet that’s why he wants to have sex with me.

“Should I give the project to Mrs Bingfield?” He proposes, tilting his head to the side. My jaw drops.

“I wouldn’t be your client.” He shrugs. I scoff. He narrows his eyes at me.

“So I guess that’s not the actual reason you won’t have sex with me.” He guesses correctly, and a shiver runs down my spine when he says ‘sex’. I’m in so much trouble.

“If you have no reasonable reason, that could mean you’re scared.” He muses. “If you tell me what you’re scared of, I’ll do my best to reassure you.”

I blink, his words echoing and bouncing in my head.

And then I see him, really see him.

He’s there, using his charms to pin me against my car, all cocky and arrogant, talking about how he’ll do what it takes to get me in his bed. He’s human garbage. He’s just a rich, power hungry arse who likes to seduce women. He’s playing with me.

I’m a conquest for him, a challenge.

I know that all too well, and it all comes back to me like a nasty aftertaste.

“So, whatever happens you’ll be the one to make it all. better.” I scoff.

“I’ll try.” He shrugs a shoulder. I’m such a fuck-up. He’s just plain trash, how could I have missed that. He’s hot, alright, but he just emanates with manwhore energy and now I want to throw up.

“I absolutely abhorre men like you.” I grind out in his face, using my sketchbook to poke at his chest and push him away. He takes step back, frowning deeply.

“You can keep your project. And your dick in your pants for that matter.” I mutter before pushing past him, and go home without a single look back in his direction.

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akanennie · 5 years

Text

Disbelief

Words: 1767

Relationship: Dr. Stephen Strange x Reader

Warning: no.

A/N: the gif isn't mine.

"You can't be serious, can you?" Stephen asked, static as Y/N climbed the steps of the Sanctum to meet him on the landing. "Of course I'm serious, Stephen. I have already postponed this meeting with you and my family. I have respected your role as Supreme Master of the Mystic Arts, but this time even this will not be an excuse.” Y/N said sternly.

"You do not seem to be respecting now." He said when Y/N stepped in front of him on the landing. "I can't go on like this, Y/N, I have a duty to keep.”

"Don't give me that one, even the Avengers allowed themselves a night of leisure. You're going to go with me to my family's Christmas party.” Y/N inquired, and he snorted still in stubbornness.

“I will not.” He stubborn.

“We'll see if you will not.”

After much insistence, in the end Y/N's stubbornness was stronger than Stephen's and there they were on their way to Y/N's parents' house for the party on Christmas Eve. As much as Stephen was very handsome in the black suit he wore, not to mention the Agamotto Eye he insisted on wearing, being the only thing in his magical universe that you didn't mind wearing during the party, he still was sulking in the car looking at the gray landscape of the city.

"Do not be so angry. Wong has already said that he can take care of everything in your absence.” Y/N said to try to cheer her boyfriend, but he only responded with a grunt. "Come on, Stephen? It will be fun! Not to mention that we have been dating for two years and you have not accompanied me in any family event, you owe me that.”

“Because these events are foolish!” He finally replied, and Y/N quickly looked at him in disbelief before turning her attention back to the road.

“Foolish? Stephen! It's Christmas! It's a world holiday! It is even sin that you are talking about!” Y/N replied, shocked. “It's a pagan holiday! I don't see why celebrate it.” Stephen said turning as he could for Y/N, and she snorted irritably.

“Blasphemy! Christmas isn’t a capitalist date, Mr. Strange!” Y/N was ironic and apologetic at the mention of his name, and Stephen noticed that it was only with this that they had said something they shouldn't. So much so that at the first opportunity you had, Y/N parked the car and hung up, giving all of her attention to Stephen who seemed shocked by his girlfriend's sudden stiffness. “Christmas is a date to bring the whole family together, to strengthen the bonds with those you love, because these are the people who will be with us in all situations, be they good or bad. It is a day to have compassion, respect and generosity and try to make peace with those who had conflict. It’s not only because they invented a big old man who gives gifts to behaved children that one must forget the true meaning of Christmas: fraternization and love in the family.”

Stephen was standing in the car seat to see how much that date had meant to Y/N. He had never seen Christmas that way, had never wondered about the true meaning of Christmas, much less given importance, at least until now.

“So... If you want to go back to Sanctum, you can come back! I will not force you anymore! If you don't like Christmas, it's your problem, but don't disrespect it.” Y/N said unlocking the car and stared at Stephen hoping he would get out of the car, but he didn't leave.

“I will not leave.” Stephen said looking at her.

"I will not have to take you back to Sanctum, so if you want to come back you'll have to get off and take the subway."

“I'm not going to Sanctum! I will go with you.” Stephen said earnestly making Y/N exasperate.

“Oh gosh! Because I had to fall in love with this idiot!” Y/N grunted, locked the car again and turned it on, following the way back to her parents' house all about Stephen's smile.

When they arrived in suburban New York, Y/N parked the car in front of a large, nicely decorated home lit for Christmas, as well as the other houses on the same street, as well as the thick layer of snow that covered the grass, the trees and the roofs.

Y/N and Stephen got out of the car and she circled the car to the front of the trunk and took out some bags from there.

“It's the house I grew up in! It's not a mansion, but it's cozy.” Y/N said as she picked up some bags and Stephen walked over to her. “It's a beautiful house! Looks like a good place to start a family.” He said as he moved to the side of Y/N. “Do you think?” Y/N asked with a mocking smile and he confirmed smiling the same way to his girlfriend.

"Do they know about me?" Stephen asked as Y/N handed him some of the bags. “Well, they know. I tell them, but you don't accompanied me on no holiday, so they think our relationship was an urban legend, like gnomes and fairies.” Y/N sneered and Stephen smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that, but protect the Earth of mystical attacks routine much of my time." Stephen said accompanying Y/N by the small trail excavated to the entrance door.

“I understand that your work is important, dear. I don't mind staying with you once in a while or your sudden appearances in my apartment. But I needed you to come at least once with me so they would stop tormenting me.” Y/N stood on tiptoe to steal a quick kiss of her boyfriend who corresponded without delay. “I couldn't stand my cousin any longer, saying: Your boyfriend is so magical that he disappears in magic.” Y/N scoffed, and Stephen laughed, though awkwardly.

“At least now they will see that I'm for real.

“Thankfully yes.” Y/N rang the bell.

As the door opened revealing Y/N's mother, she gave a little shriek of happiness and hugged her tightly, almost knocking the bags into her hands.

"Mom, this is Stephen, my boyfriend. Stephen, this is my mother Margareth.” Y/N introduced him and her mother was still staring at him.

“Oh gosh! it really exists?!” Margareth said looking at Stephen in surprise, making Stephen laugh and Y/N embarrassed.

“Mom!”

“Oh, sorry, Honey!” Y/N's mom said and extended her hand to Stephen, who, a little embarrassed by the bags, greeted her. “It's a pleasure finally meet you, honey, and you can call me Maggie! Let's go in, you both! I don't want you both have cold!” Maggie practically yanked the bags out of Y/N's hands and gave them room to enter.

Already accommodated in the living room and more heated after a hot cocoa, Y/N's family surrounded them and filled them with questions like ‘How did you two meet?’, 'What he did to live?’, 'Isn't he too old for you?' or 'Why is he no longer a surgeon?' and when they were finally content to learn more about Stephen's life, dinner was served, where Y/N thought the questions would end, but that was only the first round.

Stephen and Y/N sat at the table next to their grandmothers and a cousin, Kate, well inconvenient who made a point of sitting next to Stephen. That made Y/N jealous, but she disguised herself well.

"So, Dr. Strange? When are you planning to get married?” Grandpa Joshua asked, and Stephen almost choked on the piece of turkey. “Grandpa!” Y/N scolded him, even though she wanted to laugh, but nervous, as she helped Stephen.

"That's a very simple question, my dear. If you've been together for two years, why not already think about it?” Joshua snapped, not allowing himself to be carried away by his granddaughter's reprehending look. "If she did not want to, there were more people in line." Kate said and it boiled Y/N's blood.

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'm perfectly happy with my relationship with Y/N.” Stephen answered Kate, surprising not only her but Y/N and the rest of the family at the table. He leaned down a bit to face Joshua. “We still haven't talked about this because of my work, but..." He looked at Y/N who smiled and blushed. "I think it's time to think about it."

"And how many grandchildren do you want to give me?" Maggie couldn't resist asking, leaving Y/N embarrassed enough to start eating so she wouldn't have to respond. "Well... I..." Stephen looked at you in a distress call, but he had to answer for himself, since Y/N's mouth was full. "I don't know... maybe one or two."

"Aren't you practicing, are you?" Y/N's father, James, asked with a deadly look at Stephen and that was enough for Y/N to almost choke, causing laughter to the table. "You came prepared this year, eh?" Y/N snapped, still a little hoarse. "And I don't think you should ask questions that you don't want to know the answer to, Dad."

"What's the big deal? You're my little girl! I want to know everything that happens in your life.” James snapped, causing even more laughter to everyone at the table. "Even how many times I have sex with my boyfriend?" Y/N snapped back, surprising Stephen and James, making the others laugh. "Maybe you're right... I really do not want to know that!" James agreed, and Y/N laughed.

After dinner and the exchange of gifts, Y/N and Stephen got in the car to return home. Much of the way they were silent, until Stephen spoke.

"Now I get it..." Stephen commented quietly and you smirked. "You get it what?" Y/N asked with a sarcastic smile on her face without even looking at her boyfriend.

“You understand me...”

"Say, baby, talking doesn't hurt.” Y/N encouraged, and Stephen sighed. "You were right about Christmas." Stephen said in embarrassment and Y/N laughed. "I know..." Y/N stopped the car at the red light. She looked at Stephen. “Merry Christmas Stephen!”

“Merry Christmas Y/N.” Stephen smiled, feeling sorry and giving Y/N a kiss, only pulling away from her as he heard the car horns behind them.

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen stranger x y/n #stephen strange imagine #dr. strange #reader #christmas imagine #dr. strange imagines #avengers x reader

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the-bummer-set · 5 years

Text

Unpredictable Part 1- Bill Hargrove

So, this was going to be a one shot.. but I started to love the idea.. and now it will be a mini-series.

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Plot: Reader is an escaped experiment from Hawkins lab. She has the power to see a few days into the future. When she starts school in the middle of senior year she finds out that there is something wrong, but it isn’t all bad,

Warnings: Light swearing.Foster family. Entrapment.

Taglist: @dacremontgomerylover (If you want added let me know!)

Author’s Note: Comments and feedback are always welcome!

You had spent your whole life in Hawkins, Indiana and yet you knew absolutely nothing about it. From a young age you were told no one would accept you outside of the walls that confined you. A personal prison. You a personal poison to anyone you could come into contact with. His words, not yours. The outside world was scary, people were scary, but you... you were terrifying. Being along was a scary thought. You hated being trapped inside your own mind, trapped with the never ending onslaught of the same visions over and over again. You were taught to read and write and how to do arithmetic. Just like the children in the books you read. From all accounts of 'normal' outside childhood, you were just as normal as the rest of them, save for the nearsighted glimpses into the future. But, that was your blessing and burden to bare. Everyday the visions were the same. Didn't matter. Walks down the halls. Sitting in the cool metal chair. Hooked up to wires. Saying you didn't see anything important. Being called a liar. It was true though, you never saw anything further than a few days ahead. Your powers were as simple as being able to know what you were having for lunch the next few days and who you would and wouldn't see in your daily travels to E-Val. "Open your mind, look deep, try to manifest what you want to see." Dr. Brenner would say to you. "It isn't the simple." You would tell him only to be disconnected and thrown back to your room. You saw the ending in sight. It came creeping upon you in the dark night. You thought you had to be dreaming again. You could hear the howling, so loud your ears hurt. The power failure that terrified you. The distinct sound of a door opening. That morning you would keep that from Dr. Brenner, trying your best to hide it from E-Val nurses and lie detectors. The next night the vision was more intense and longer too. This time you could see the emergency lighting lining the hallways. You could predict where the monsters would be. Your heart beating so loud you were afraid it wold give you away. Each night the nightmare got longer and darker, until the last night you spent in your room. Sleep eluded you. You had just closed your eyes when you heard it. A low rumble of a howl. Your eyes shot open. The only source of light in the room creeping in from under the door faltered. A rapid succession of flickers, then nothing. The room was the darkest it had ever been, you held your breath, waiting for the unmistakable sound of a lock unlocking. CLICK. You heart skipped a beat. Last night's nightmare prepared you for the escape. You slowly crept from your bed over the door, opening it slowly. The emergency lighting had come on, like your visions had promised. Slipping your way through the hallways you found yourself standing by an emergency exit. You could see through the small window that it was pitch black outside. You had seen all of this before and you felt the fear dissipate. Pushing the door open you could feel the cold air hit you like a blanket. ____________________________________________________________________________

After getting settled in your foster home you had dreams about today. Your foster parents didn't know where you had come from or what you were capable of and you felt like you were deceiving them. They were an older couple, probably close to their 60s, Helen and Frank Barber. They took you in from the police station no questions asked. Sure, a lot of people at the station were suspicious of your origins. Chief Hopper the most. You insisted though that you ran away from home. Home was in Maine. The setting to all of your favorite books. Don't bother looking for parents, they were.. gone. The visions of your first day at Hawkins high, for being a foster kid on the run you certainly did test high and were able to go for the last leg of your senior year, were intense. You were ogled by so many different people and asked so many questions. Mentally always thanking your love of reading for the social queues of teenage normalcy. When Helen and Frank dropped you off you thanked them, waved, and prepared for the stares. You had been getting them your whole life from the same people. When you are conditioned to be a freak, you feel like one. Everyone looked the same from your visions. You didn't look up, too afraid to make eye contact. Instead, you bee lined to the front office, introduced yourself shyly. Your class schedule was exactly how you pictured it. Each classroom was perfectly placed like you had spent your whole life going here. You had been muddling your way through the morning, everything exactly as it should be until third period. You introduced yourself to your teacher and turned to face the class. When you noticed a huge abnormality to your vision. Something you did not see at all in away way shape or form over the last few days. He was sitting in the back corner. Leather jacket and long blonde hair. He had this devilish grin on his face, shaking his head while looking out he window. Everyone must have noticed how shocked you were to see something that you weren't expecting because every single pair of eyes were on you. "Hey, Hargrove, looks like someone likes you." Some arrogant jerk spoke from the front. This caught the boy's attention. He turned his gaze from the parking lot to you. "You like what you see Princess?" He asked raising his eye brows and getting a chorus of laughs. "That's enough Billy." The teacher said. "Y/N go ahead and take a seat next to Victoria. Victoria dear can you raise your hand so she knows where to go." The girl with long brown hair and thick rimmed glasses raised her hand. No surprise to you, you saw this. You saw every little detail, even the writing on the chalkboard, but you never saw this Billy Hargrove. The rest of class went by undisturbed.When the bell rang you got up keeping your eyes to the floor, doing everything in your power to not deal with Billy. Which was going just perfectly fine, until you ran smack dab into him in the front of the classroom. "I didn't see you." You muttered. "What?" Billy asked. His voice softer than it had been now that the room was empty. "I didn't see you." "Well, I guess not, but no harm done." He smiled and extended his hand. "I'm Billy Hargrove. Sorry for the comment I made earlier. I have a reputation to uphold here, I can see it made you uncomfortable and that wasn't my intention." "I didn't see you at all..." You spoke louder. "Yeah, we established that. Um, listen what class do you have next, I feel like I owe it to you to at least walk you there." You shook the thought from your head. "Uh, Literature with Mr. Duvall. Room..." "237." Billy smiled broadly. "Me too." Your visions were completely void of BIlly Hargrove, and even now having met him, you didn't see him in any of them. He was a complete and total mystery to you. You replayed the vision of you walking to Literature class and not a single person beside you or anything of the sort. It was troubling. You couldn't pinpoint him anywhere on the map of your visions. No where, past, present, not so distant future. "Mr. Duvall... this is Y/N. Today is her first day." "Thank you Billy. Class this is Y/N. She's a new student, here from... where are you from dear?" "Maine." You answered quickly, pushing down the truth. You were from Hawkins, Indiana, born and raised, I was trapped in that awful research facility that killed your fellow classmate Barb and had all that mysterious toxic bullshit. "Maine? The land of Stephen King." Mr Duvall beamed. "Have you read any King?" "Yes sir." It was after all the reason you chose Maine instead of anywhere else USA. "What is your favorite work of his?" "The Stand." Mr. Duvall raise his eyebrow. "I just find the idea of being able to see the future in snippets extraordinary, like how Stu knows where to go to get out of trouble..." The rest of Literature was uneventful. You could feel the warm sensation of someone watching you. It was delicious and terrifying all at once. Literature in your visions was just another class. Nothing worth writing home about. You tried to scan your visions, trying to figure out what was in the room where Billy was seated. When you realized it, you were mortified. You shook the vision from your head and peered back towards Billy. He smiled at you and you smiled back feeling a wave of heat flush over your cheeks. You tried the rest of the day to get it off. At the end of the school day you grabbed your bag from your locker and walked out into the warm Spring air. "Hey Y/N." Billy walked up beside you and you could feel the heat pulling from you. "Do you want to go get something to eat tonight? I could give you a little tour of this shit hole that is Hawkins and maybe make up for the fact that I was an ass." The thought of something you didn't see happening ahead of time was overwhelming, but you were always so jealous of the exciting lives of those that you read about. "Sure, I'd love to." "You're staying with the Barbers right?" You nodded. "I'm only a few houses down. I'll pick you up around 6." You confirmed six was fine and said your goodbyes to Billy, until he noticed you were walking home. "Do you want a ride? My sister Max is getting a ride with that Sinclair kid, so I don't have to pick her up today." "You have a sister?" You questioned him as you walked towards his car. "Step sister. You? You have any siblings?" That was a tough question. You were one of the oldest out of all the experiments in Brenner’s arsenal. You knew Brenner was your biological father, but you didn't know if the case was true with any of the others. "No. I'm an only child." You responded. It could have been true and for right now, that was good enough. "So Maine huh?" Billy opened up the passenger side door for you. You were surprised by how chivalrous he was given his demeanor when you were being a complete idiot. "Yeah..." You trailed off. "Maine." "What's it like?" Horrifying? You had never been to Maine, you only read Stephen King books and by all his accounts Maine should be completely eradicated from the face of the Earth. "Same as Hawkins." Given the news lately and the inevitable military shut down of Hawkins Labs, the multi dimensional hellscape of Maine was actually rather comparative of Hawkins. "Boring, crap shoot of an American town?" "Exactly." You both laughed. It was the first time you had a full laugh in ages. It was few and far between when you had a great day locked up. You found comfort in your reading and that was the usual cause of your joy. "So, did you grow up in Hawkins?" You asked him. Billy turned to look at you amazed that you asked him such a stupid question before remembering you're the new kid now. You had no idea he existed before today. "No. My family, we're from California." You got excited. California was a high contender in places you have longed to see. Reading about the perfect combinations of landscapes, the bustling city life, the feeling of ocean waves crashing on your feet. "I've always wanted to go to California." Billy shrugged, he desperately missed being at home... "Well, once you've seen one ocean you've seen them all I suppose. I'm sure living in Maine and living in California have a lot of similarities." You didn't know what to say, you never honestly lived any place other than a stagnant laboratory with only glimpses of the Hawkins forest scapes outside tall office windows. "I guess so." You were almost disappointed when Billy pulled up in front of Helen and Frank's house. Your house too they insisted. You were genuinely enjoying your conversations with him. "So I will pick you up around 6. If anything changes, just call me. Try to do it before five though, before my prick of a dad gets home." "I doubt anything will change, but sure." You took the slip of paper from him and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans. "Honestly, I am sure Helen and Frank will be delighted I am making friends already." You smirked. "If I don't hear from you before five, I'll pick you up at six. Hope to see you then." Billy waved before driving down the road. You made your way into the house, smelling the scent of lemon and Petunia bu Yardley Smith perfume. Helen must have spent most of the day playing 1950s housewife. "Oh Y/N! You're home! How was school dear? Did you make any friends?" You told her all about your day over a glass of lemonade and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. "Do you mind if I go out tonight for a little bit?" You asked her. "Billy Hargrove wants to give me a tour of the town and take me to dinner." "That sounds like a date." Helen couldn't hide her giddiness. "I don't think I would call it a date." "Oh honey, I don't mind, you go out and have fun, that's what girls your age need. Go on dates! Live your life." Helen patted you on the shoulder. "Frank is going to be so excited!" "Thank you Helen." You smiled and finished your lemonade. "I'll be in my room getting ready." Standing in front of your mirror you tried to visualize your night, but nothing would come to you. Ever since you saw Billy the visions were blurred. You could see tomorrows classes, unless you had them with him. You could see what Helen was making for dinner on Thursday,but you couldn't see Billy at all. It was horribly confusing. When you were finally ready and sick of obsessing over why you couldn't see the exact future anymore you settled on finding an outfit. A simple pair of jeans, black high heels, and a burgundy off the shoulder top. You brushed your hair out and put on a little bit of makeup. Nothing over the top. This wasn't a date like Helen was trying to convince you. You grabbed your bag from off the chair and made your way downstairs. Hearing a knock on the door you looked over at the mirror, your played with your hair getting it perfect before opening it. "Hey Billy." You smiled. "Hey you." He gave you a quick nonchalant almost invisible look over. "You must be Billy." Helen came over and introduced herself. "You're so handsome! Your step mother always has such nice things to say about you.." Billy raised and eye brow before brushing it off. "Well, that is good to know. It is a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand and shook hers softly. "You two have fun tonight." "Have her home by ten." Frank yelled from behind the newspaper in the living room. "Yes sir." Billy replied and took your hand. "Sorry about all that." You groaned. "Don't worry about it." He opened the car door for you again and you beamed. "So, where to first?" "I figured we could go to the diner. Then I will take you for a ride." He shrugged looking over at you making sure his plans were okay. "Sounds good to me." You settled into your seat. playing with a string hanging from the bottom of your shirt. "Is that a tattoo?" Billy asked looking down at the inside of your wrist. You covered it up quickly. "Yeah. It is." "So what does the number 4 have to do with anything?"

#unpredictable #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things fiction

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | A MYSTERIOUS INTERLUDE

first time reader click here

This is a scrapped chapter. Originally, I was planning to 1) give Reader a longer, more intense destructive streak before her ending up with Tony. I planned three or so chapters that involved an abusive Quentin Beck, but, ultimately decided that to be too cliché. 2) I had planned to write at least 30% of the fanfic in Tony's/third person POV. This chapter would have been number 11/12 - Tony would have rejected her advances in the lab & she would have got hooked on Beck's charming facade.

Why am I publishing this? It seems like a waste if effort to shelf it, plus, it's Tony's POV. You can skip it since it has no relation/bearing on the current story. Just a tiny "what might have been" tidbit.

It was a moment's notice. One second, they're standing in a group, laughing, soaking in the warmth from the fireplace, chattering amongst themselves, telling tall tales and sipping their liquor. It all goes black briefly, and then they are surrounded by darkness - it's nearly impenetrable, so thick that their voices echo in it.

Tony's body was encompassed by the nanotech suit immediately after his eyes and his brain adjusted to the rapid change of surroundings. His teammates, too, had their skills honed on an instinctive level - the faint thump of Mjölnir in Thor's hands, the golden-green glow of his brother's magic, whirring of Barnes' prosthetic arm. Steve's shield stayed tucked behind the living room couch but his enhanced physique and readiness to fight 24/7 has him covering the unenhanced Clint and Natasha in mere seconds.

Tony was mostly angry rather than afraid. The team was having a good time at his party and the chance encounters of weird shit like this had been reduced to nearly zero percent possibility thanks to Friday's screening process: supervillains, Hydra agents and the likes strictly prohibited on Stark-owned premises.

It was a strange coincidence Banner had to take a break to check up on one of his experiments not even five minutes before the rest of the team was experiencing the strange change in scenery. Speaking of Strange, the sorcerer also was nowhere to be seen - Tony distinctively remembered seeing Stephen ten feet away from the bar, engaged in a hearty debate with the lead of SI's Medical Engineering department.

"This is not magic," Wanda piped up from behind him, confused. "I don't feel anything on the usual frequency. It sounds more like Friday humming in the walls, like electricity."

Good to know, Tony thought. It was nice having someone who was familiar with the undiscovered side of science - after all, Tony had always considered anything 'magical' to be science he had not personally understood yet. Wanda's most redeeming quality in Tony's eyes was the fact that more often than not she seemed to be as clueless as everyone else when it came to her powers and didn't act so high and mighty as some other people. Cloaked people, and horned people, for example.

"The fuck, man? I was hoping, just one evening, one normal evening with my beer and wings," Clint whined. Tony could hear Natasha huffing in annoyed agreement.

"Mr. Stark, what are we going to do?" His very own spider-child, on the other hand, sounded distraught. Peter's voice has this funny thing it does when the boy is upset but tries to hide it: it quivers on the vowels, wobbles slightly.

Tony had to blindly grope the air for a moment before his arm found Peter's shoulder. The boy was shivering and took the offered comfort eagerly, folding into the older man.

"Okay, whoever is pulling this stunt, my advice is: don't," Tony sighed, 12 000% Done With This Shit™, exclaiming loudly. "If that's a prank, stop it or speak up. If you got beef, then you got some nerve doing this in my tower. Show yourself."

He could feel the fine hairs on his neck stand up as the team tensed next to him, readily gearing up to pounce. Peter was vibrating in Tony's arms and the billionaire suddenly remembered the curious side-effects of Peter's powers, the spidey-sense. It must have been going absolutely haywire - the kid nearly hyperventilated himself into a heart attack.

"Stark, I must apologise for the uncomfortable circumstances. Believe me, it was a necessity - you always demand attention, whereas I need people to pay attention to me for a moment. Don't worry, you'll get yours when the time is due."

The voice was vaguely familiar. Male, slightly nasal but quiet and creeping. Insinuating. It lacked the usual boisterous bravado of a mid-grade bad guy, Tony had to take an educated guess that the owner of the mysterious voice was well-off, white. Privileged. No hint of desperation in it, as if the man was pitying everybody.

"The fuck? Q, is that you?"

Oh shit, Tony realized in muted horror. She must've been hanging around somewhere in their vicinity - which wasn't unusual, the girl usually orbited around Barnes, Wanda, Peter or Bruce. All of whom were present at the party. Tony had forgotten about her, to his shame, somehow having had automatically assumed she trotted out of the room on Bruce's heels. His science bro and her acted like conjoined twins when it came to their scientific ventures.

"Stop talking," The man growled, the voice suddenly coming from a very different direction. Tony heard a distinctively feminine yelp, albeit muffled. Peter violently jerked in Tony's arms. The engineer put the superstrength of his suit to use, holding the teenager down.

"Aw, hell no!" She yelled, the indignant shrieking followed by the sound of a moist palm slapping something glass...y? "What the fuck? I am asking you again. Are you... Oh my God, are you wearing a fishbowl on your head? Ow, motherfu-" The rest of the sentence is muffled, garbled. Whoever this "Q" was, she obviously knew him and he had silenced her. And, apparently, Q had an uncanny choice of headwear.

Tony was sure the rest of the team had followed his lead on doing a spit-take. They've fought enough supervillains with more than questionable fashion sense but a fishbowl? That was new.

"Be quiet, baby. It's for your own good. I don't want to hurt you if I can help it," The Fishbowl chastised her.

Tony's confusion once again returned to irritation at the frivolous way the villain addressed his science buddy. Peter's friend would have been more accurate but Tony had put her into the 'science bro' category not too long ago. They were close, as much as they could be, with the age gap and totally different interests and... The immense amount of guilt Tony felt for his attraction towards the girl. He was a dirty old man and she was barely an adult.

Every damn day Tony did his best to avoid making a shiny, big, new problem. Yet her brains and her wit and the uncanny ability to pull anybody into a conversation had a firm hold on his attention.

"Leave her alone," Stark angrily declared, powering up a repulsor. "What do you want? Party crashing isn't allowed in my tower anymore."

"What I want, Stark, is for you to give credit where it's due," The man answered simply, giving Tony just enough time to shove Peter behind him towards Natasha and take a tentative step forward.

The soft glow emanating from the repulsor illuminated barely two inches around his hand. The darkness surrounding it seemed to swallow the light. Tony moved on quiet feet towards the voice, easily avoiding furniture. His memory was good and he knew his tower, his home, better than anyone else.

"Did I hear that correctly, you're accusing me of plagiarism?" Tony tried for indignant, hoping to provoke the man into an inevitable, drawn-out speech where he lists all the wrongs Tony ever did him, giving the team precious time to regroup and form some semblance of a plan.

"Yes," Q simply answered, pausing for a second. "I hope you enjoy your next adventure. It certainly will show you the potential of my creation."

Tony shared a muted sound of confusion with the rest of the team.

"Q, I am very disappointed," To Tony's horror, th girl stared talking again. She sounded somewhat breathless, and closer to him than before. "Stop it with the dick measuring contest, you're a grown ass man. Go work for OsCorp, or Hammer, drink your sorrows away." She sounded so tired. And even closer to him.

"This is not a dick measuring contest!" Q roared suddenly and wow, that man was unstable. "This was my life's work, my creation, he insulted, berated and threw away!"

"I get it, I really get the whole 'being discarded and thrown away' thing," She replied, somewhat sarcastically. "But you know what? I'll be damned and I'll be fucked if I give some piece of shit any more of my undivided attention. They don't want me? Fine, they can fuck off and take their complaints with them." Her speech was periodically interrupted by shuffling noises.

Tony didn't dare to interrupt, seeing now the possibility of Q being actually calmed down by a teenager (probably) quoting some teen drama TV show.

"But going full Joker? You're a brilliant man, Quen, I wouldn't even look at you twice if not for your brains and your baby blues, however I don't fuck with the bad guys. That shit kills," The hand that rested on the wrist cuff of Tony's suit unmistakably belonged to her. She had the remnants of some sort of wire around it, sleek and quicksilver-shiny, irritating the tender skin under it. "And I want to live. You've gone and pissed off an entire crew of supers and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think, Quen," There was genuine sadness in her voice.

Tony stood silent in confusion.

Whoever this Quen was, they obviously shared a close relationship. Tony's brain ran through the list of her friends, her relatives - there was nobody named Q, Quen or even remotely similar. Natasha had mentioned a possible boyfriend at some point but the man sounded too old for that, he was at least thirty. Or maybe? Tony wouldn't put it completely past the girl, if judging by the blatant way she flirted with Bruce. With himself.

"Baby, this is not about you. I don't want to hurt you," Quen replied, a hysterical edge to his voice. Something began flickering in the distance, attracting Tony's attention to the shape of a man with a round sort of helmet and a red, billowing cape (hello, 2012-Thor!).

"Too late, Quen. You've tied me up and you went on to attack my friends. I've already told you that if you yell at me one more time, I will leave you. So I guess this is it," Her voice broke at the end, pitiful sniffles following the statement.

Tony watched the exchange, mildly uncomfortable and very concerned. The man yelled at her? That was absolutely unacceptable, however, what else could one expect from a maniac with a flair for the dramatic?

The girl bodily placed herself in front of Tony, standing, doing nothing but rubbing her wrists. It was then that the engineer noticed Q nearing them, the shape becoming distinctively closer. And - yep, there it was - the fishbowl on his head. It completely obscured him, making his face invisible, unrecognisable.

The man seemed rather fixated on the girl standing in front of Tony. He floated in front of her, ignoring Tony, taking her bound hands in his own. A brief click and a hiss later, her wrists were released and the contraption fell freely to the floor where it landed with an oddly heavy thud. Tony hoped there was no lead in that thing - supervillains were dangerous but lead poisoning was cancerous and fatal.

"Baby..." Quen timidly touched her face with a leather-bound glove. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry." Tony took the chance to examine the man's costume. If anything, it looked somewhat steampunk-y? There was a lot of bronze, and the chest brace had some sort of glowing lines on it. Power storage units?

She stared up, towards the man's hidden face. "M'sorry, Quen," She mumbled, going in for a hug. Or that's what Tony thought. The majestic cape that billowed behind Quen was unceremoniously yanked from his body as the girl ducked, covering herself with it, yelling: "TONY, NOW, SHOOT, SHOOT!"

Tony did just that, shot Quen flat in the chest and the man stumbled backwards, tripping on the cape - such a stupid, unexpected thing. But Tony knew, his girl was clever and resourceful. Pride swelled in his chest as he shot the man again, Rogers running out from behind him blindly, body-slamming Quen into the ground for good measure. Two hundred pounds of supersoldier later, the battle was over before it even started.

"No!" The villain shouted as Steve pressed and popped the hilarious glass contraption on his head. The accessory was no match for the Captain's super strength. Tony immediately recognised the man as his former employee, Quentin Beck, and it clicked for him. It was totally a personal vendetta.

"This stuff is tough, plexiglass, maybe," The Captain remarked, pointing at the scattered shards around Beck's head. "It appears to be augmented too, some kind of tech, I don't know. You're good at this, Tony," Steve chuckled humorlessly, roughly turning Beck around and securing his hands with a pair of vibranium-reinforced handcuffs. God only knew where he'd gotten those from.

"Good at what? Making enemies?" Stark couldn't resist the self-depricating joke.

"Stop it, Tony," Natasha's gently admonishing voice interrupted Steve's incoming lecture. Tony, for once, was thankful that the Widow interrupted. He was in no mood to listen to another one of Steve's speeches.

"Who do you work for?" That deadly gleam in Natasha's eyes was terrifying and Beck was only a man.

"I don't work for anyone but myself, thanks to Stark," He spat venomously.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow in Tony's direction.

"Fired him years ago, this guy was going nuts. Brilliant but crazier than a bag of cats," Tony replied, feigning nonchalance. He could feel a mild headache begin to gnaw at his skull. "We worked on a project together, he got upset that I refused to weaponize it. We had a falling out. End of story." With that, Tony stood up, retracing his suit to only leave the gauntlets on his hands, gathered the various pieces of tech the good captain had removed from Beck's persona and made way towards the nearest table.

Or where he thought it was. All of them were still surrounded by the uncanny darkness. The anxiety that Tony forcefully shut down reared it's ugly head as soon as he lost physical touch with his teammates. He stumbled, his foot catching onto something on the ground.

"Ow, motherfucker!"

"Buttercup, I haven't fucked your mother nor I plan to," He snarked back automatically, flooded with relief at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Hope so. She'd probably bite your dick off if you try," A hand was groping his calf and then she stood up in front of him, still clutching the ridiculous cape. It appeared to be a source of light, which was very strange. The girl looked positively demonic, illuminated by red light, face scrunched up, eyes puffy, and clothing in disarray.

"You good?" Tony managed to choke out, confusion and worry and anxiety making his chest tight.

"Balmy. My boyfriend is a homicidal maniac with an inferiority complex," She sassed, an edge of panic to her voice. "Oh, and he tried to kill one of my best friends. I am fine and dandy."

"Your boyfriend?" That was the only thing Tony heard. Bat-shit crazy Beck, his babygirl's boyfriend? There was no way in Hell he'd allow such a thing...

"My ex-boyfriend, I guess," She sighed, removing the cape from her persona. Refusing to meet his eyes, fiddling with the hem of her top. "Here," The girl abruptly thrust the cape at him. "This is a funny thing, it's like a hologram but you can actually touch it. You should, uh, probably disinfect it, or something. I've been on-uh, around it many times," It was so unlike her, the fumbling, the embarrassment, Tony wanted to wheel her straight to medical to check if she's gotten concussed again.

Then his brain caught up and all he saw was red. Figuratively and literally - the cape was still in his face, loosely hanging from her outstretched hand. She must've seen the look on his face.

The step she took back was quick and worrying. "Forget I said that, I don't know why I said that. Oh, god."

"What were you thinking?" Tony inhaled a solid lungful, prepared to make his opinion very clear. "Getting involved with a lunatic! For a second I actually thought you were smart, there isn't a chance you missed that the guy is short of a few marbles," His voice was quiet, the one of a calm fury. His words cut deeply and he could see the hurt, the shame in her eyes, on her face. Tony knew he'd regret it later however his brain insisted it was a necessary evil. He continued ranting until he ran out of breath. "Not to mention he's, what, twice your age? And he yells at you and tells you to shut up? It didn't ring any alarm bells in that pretty little head of yours?"

"Tony, stop," Steve's hand landed on the engineer's shoulder and he simply shrugged it off, staring at the quivering girl in front of him.

She was crying, silently, few tears pooling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, leaving ugly streaks in her make-up. Tony expected her to sass him, to argue back, to yell obscenities like she usually did when something or someone upset her but he was met with hurt, stunned silence. His worst fear came true when she looked away, shrugging.

He'd seen this sort of dejected shrug the time her father drugged her and... She just took it. She expected it, even, his outrage, his disappointment. Being hurt and mistreated was the norm for her, Tony realized belatedly. There were too many parallels between them both that made him uncomfortable deep inside. His chest felt tight, regret washing over him like a tsunami wave.

"I'm turning on the lights, close your eyes for maximum comfort," Strange's voice announced suddenly, causing everybody to jump and shudder. Tony complied begrudgingly. The sudden influx of light was painful even from behind closed eyelids. His headache became a full-on dull throb.

"What happened?" "Are you okay?" "Is everybody alive?" Resonated across the room. Tony spied several small drones smoking and crackling next to the exit door, Stephen Strange closing a portal he must've used to evacuate the civilians.

The puddle of red holographic cape on the floor. And her hastily retreating back. Damn.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

#party favours #bun writes #Quentin Beck #tony stark fanfiction

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lovedsammy · 5 years

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All right, ya’ll, I saw Endgame! Major spoilers will be under the cut so if you’re on mobile and it doesn’t work, SCROLL, SCROLL, SCROLL. Also, blacklist ‘a4 spoilers’ and ‘endgame spoilers’!

Overall? I loved it. There are a few things that REALLY bothered me/disappointed me, which I’ll talk about. As a star rating, I’d say 9/10.

First for the things that bothered me so I can get that out of the way...

Complaints:

- Thor & Loki: It’s no surprise to some of you that Loki is my favorite character (with Tony in 2nd place), and I adore the Thor & Loki bond. So I wasn’t happy at ALL that Loki remained dead, nor the fact that the Loki and Thor bond was completely erased/forgotten. Thor didn’t mention him ONCE, and instead focused only on the bond with his mother, which was, admittedly, beautiful. But the fact that he didn’t think of his deceased brother at all really felt like a disservice. I think it was supposed to be inferred that that what’s Thor’s so depressed about during the film, but it wasn’t TALKED about and instead was played for laughs. Thor’s PAIN was made to be humorous because he let himself go and had a beer belly. And yeah, I can see how at first that can be slightly funny, but it’s really not, if you think about it. Thor was so consumed by depression that all he did was drink himself almost to death. He was a wreck during the whole film and was made to look like a drunken idiot, except for the ending. Making him gain weight just to make him ‘funny’ also rubbed me the wrong way. Being ‘fat’ is nothing to be ashamed of, or funny. Thor’s characterization this movie was a big minus for me, which was disappointing. Him leaving at the end with the GotG made some sense, though, and I’m hoping this will lead him on a path to maybe trying to find Loki, in the past or otherwise. Quill trying to find past!Gamora... maybe it was a hint.

- Going back to Loki, he showed up in flashbacks from Avengers 2012 which really made my heart swell. Him rolling his eyes at the Avengers, waving ‘bye bye’ to the Hulk sarcastically when he had to take the stairs, taking the opportunity to snatch the Tesseract, not once but twice, and disappearing to God knows where? LOVED IT. It was so nice to see him again, no matter in what capacity. Though I still wish he’d come back for real, ESPECIALLY in that battle at the end. It wouldn’t have taken much more screen time, honestly. They could’ve just shown him arriving with the others at the return, have him fight side by side with Thor, and address Thanos. Maybe hint at some possible control, imprisonment, torture from Thanos? It could’ve paved way for the Loki series. Although, I guess this 2012!Loki disappearing with the Tesseract can achieve that, too, but it would erase all of the development Loki has achieved, and I loved the development. I loved his path to redemption. If they do this, I want a redeemed!Loki, who has a place among the Avengers, not a villain again.

- Gamora not coming back. I mean, I loved seeing her as her past self, but again... she died by being killed by her abusive father. It leaves a bad taste.

All right, on to everything else!

Things that I loved:

- Nebula and Tony’s friendship! I loved their dynamic a lot. Nebula taking care of Tony, and sitting him upright? My heart. <333

- Tony’s reunion with Steve. Omg their dynamic was FANTASTIC this movie. No leftover resentment from Civil War. It really made me love their friendship that much more.

- Tony’s reunion with Pepper!

- “I lost the kid. I lost the kid.” The first part I got choked up, of many.

- omg Scott coming home to see 5 years have passed and his daughter is a teen? omg I couldn’t even handle that. I loved older Cassie, though!

- THOR GETTING TO KILL THANOS FOR REAL. OMG I CHEERED. It didn’t help his vendetta, though, and once the revenge was complete, he had nothing left, which makes sense. His hate for Thanos was what drove him in Infinity War. He fell into a huge depression once that was taken from him. And why I wish, again, that this hadn’t been used for laughs!

- TONY AND HIS DAUGHTER!!! omg dad!tony was the CUTEST AND SO WAS MORGAN. Tony’s my 2nd fave character in the mcu, so seeing him happy, living life with his wife and daughter? perfection. The “shit” scene was both hilarious and sweet. “Go to bed or I’ll sell or all your toys” and Morgan laughing because she knows he won’t. <3333333333

- “I love you 3000″

- Clint and his family!

- Natasha saying that her family is the Avengers.

- the time travel was well utilized, even if it makes my head spin a little. XD

- LOKI LOKI LOKI

- “that is america’s ass” lmao

- steve saying ‘hail hydra’ and it WORKING

- tony and steve just KNOWING how each other thinks and using that to formulate the same plan, of going back to grab the tesseract? genius!

- There was so much foreshadowing in this movie at the beginning and middle of how this was going to end. Tony was unwilling to help at first because he didn’t want to lose what he had gained, and Steve kept saying he was over Peggy but by looking at her in the past, it was clear that he wasn’t, and that was where he wanted to go. I’ll touch on both those things more later.

- Tony getting to talk to his father, and finally come to terms with that relationship, and understanding/loving him... ow my heart. That hug was amazing.

- Thor getting to talk with his mother, getting that closure as well. This movie centered a lot on family.

- Clint willing to die to get the soul stone, but Natasha also willing to, and fighting over it, who had the strongest will to sacrifice themselves for everyone else. Their dynamic is also one of my favorites, and even though Clint is happily married with a family, part of me still ships them, and I loved those final moments together.

-”Let me go. It’s okay.” Natasha’s death was one of the first scenes that got me outright bawling. I adored her, and her death hit me hard because I was NOT expecting it. And for her to die as she did, willingly, with no restraint.... she wiped the red out of her ledger for sure. :( R.I.P Natasha. I’m so sad that they couldn’t even get her body to give her a proper burial. And everyone’s reactions after... devastating.

- I didn’t think Bruce using the Gauntlet was going to work at first. But once Clint’s phone started ringing, I breathed a sigh of relief and just waited. Then past!Nebula had to ruin everything by getting Thanos to blow up the Avengers HQ.

- Touching on this, btw: Thanos really is the Avengers strongest opponent. He was too clever using the two Nebulas (UGH) as he did, and he almost won again without even breaking a sweat.

- The. entire. fight. Literally, all of it. Thor using both of his weapons, Tony and Steve giving it their all... omg.

- The second Steve used Mjolnir, my entire theater screamed, and same, tbh. Thor’s “I KNEW IT!!” was everyone. It was nice continuity with AoU when Thor’s expression hinted that Cap was worthy. YES.

- It took me a minute to realize that Sam was back, and when it did, I sat there going “IS IT REALLY IS IT REALLY IST THIS HAPPENING OH SHIT”

- AND IT DID!

- Everyone coming out of that portal, focusing on each of them. Omg the theater erupted.

- “AVENGERS.... assemble.” cHILLS

- WANDA GETTING BACK AT THANOS’S CRAZY ASS, HELL YES! “I don’t even know who you are.” “You will.” YES, QUEEN.

- THE WOMEN TEAMING UP!

- Tony and Peter. The hug! The shock from Tony that this boy that he looks at as his own son, the relief that he’s alive, okay.. hi i’m crying again.

- The second Stephen raised that single finger, and Tony knew what it meant. And we all knew what it meant...

- “I am inevitable.” “I am... Iron... man.”

- Tony’s death hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was sobbing before he’d even collapsed to the floor. Watching the color drain from his face, and his body become so badly damaged.... I knew it was over for him.

- “We won, Mr. Stark. Come on, you did it, sir, you did. I’m sorry, Tony.” I CANT EVEN HANDLE THIS. PETER DIED IN FRONT OF TONY, AND NOW TONY DIES IN FRONT OF HIM. This surrogate father/son duo hurts me and I feel so much.

- PEPPER AND TONY. THEY DESERVED BETTER, DAMN IT. THEY DESERVED TO BE HAPPY AND TONY DESERVED TO WATCH HIS DAUGHTER GROW UP. ;A; “We’re going to be okay. You can rest now.” Rip out my heart. Just rip it out.

- As painful as Tony’s death was, it also felt.... perfect, in ways. He gave up his chance to keep things as they were to save everyone else. He did tHAT. He gave everyone else their families back. He died a hero, a true hero. I feel more at ease with Tony’s death, despite how unfair it was, because unlike Loki, Tony had achieved everything he meant to. He had a little girl who he loved so much and was an amazing father to. He had a son, who he taught to be a hero, too. He had a wife who will go on to keep Stark Enterprises alive. They’re Tony’s legacy.

- The funeral was SO heartbreaking, I was a crying mess. Happy and Morgan... :( </3

- ok so I’m 50/50 on Steve’s ending. He goes to return the stones to their proper time, and then stays behind to have a life with Peggy. Which, I mean... I’m not opposed to, and I think Steve deserves his happy ending too, but... it also hurt because not only was he leaving Bucky behind, he also left his friends behind. Friends that were already hurting from losing Natasha and Tony. And then to leave them like he did.... it felt... I don’t know, not wrong, but insensitive, considering what had just happened. Everyone had lost enough, and then they had to lose Steve, too. Although, I see his frame of mind. He’d lost so much as well. He wanted to have something for once, something happy, and he took it. I can’t blame him for that. I just wish his timing had been better.

-Bucky just knew that Steve wasn’t coming back as himself. He knows him so well. And his nod at Sam to let him take up the mantle... I knew it was going to happen, but I thought it’d be different. I’m fine with this, though. Steve’s retired. He can rest now.

- Tony’s voice over at the end was beautiful and perfect. That is all.

I loved this movie a lot, and can’t wait to see it again eventually! I had complaints and things I wish they’d done/fixed, but overall, the good outweighed the bad.

#marvel #avengers: endgame #endgame spoilers #a4 spoilers #avengers endgame

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picassho-18 · 6 years

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World Swapping Part 6

Summary: (Bucky x Fem!Reader) When a hard-core MCU fan travels into the events of Captain America: Civil War, she has to balance keeping the Avengers from tearing apart, and a growing adoration of the deadly Winter Solider.

Warnings: cursing as always, some fighting, angst, BLACK PANTHER SPOILERS

A/N: I’m so so sorry it’s so short, but I plan on writing a lot more this week because I’m trying to finish this before Infinity War comes out. Guess what, I made my very own W.S. header yay me! W.S. tag list is closed, but permanent tag list is open so send an ask!

Please enjoy and please please leave feedback!! ;)

After the flight there, you arrived at the Sanctum’s steps. With Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Bucky behind, you raised your hand and knocked loudly on the big doors. Something clicked, causing the door to lurch backwards, opening slowly, revealing the inside of the sanctum. It looked exactly how it did in Thor: Ragnarok, just a little renovated from the battles it undertook in Doctor Strange’s movie.

Huhhh, weird… You though, This looks like the all the Dormammu fighting happened already.

You had assumed you would be walking in perhaps sometime during the movie but it appears Stephen Strange has already undergone his arc.

Once the 5 of you walked in, hesitantly, Dr. Strange appeared at the top of the grand stairway.

“Hello Avengers. To what do I owe the pleasure? Has Thor sent you?”

You step forward, while he descends the steps. “No, Thor hasn’t come back yet. We’ve come to see if you have any information on crossing dimensions.”

“Ahh, you must be Y/N Y/L/N. I have heard rumors that two of the Sanctum’s insurgents accidently brought back a woman from Diànyǐng Wéidù.”

After everyone gave him a confused look, he explained himself, “As Y/N should know the Sanctums have undergone tremendous stress with Dormammu’s attacks. We’ve had more uprisings among our ranks, more out of line sorcerers that would use their powers for their own selfish reasons. What these specific sorcerer's did was dimension travel to Diànyǐng Wéidù, the dimension that contains what would be considered the Marvel Movies, and steal there to avoid any possible enhanced people that could have stopped them here.”

“Okay, so where are these assholes that did this to Y/N, I just wanna talk.” Tony spoke up. While he had only know you for a couple days, you’ve grown on him. He liked how strong you seemed, and plus he had heard what you had said at the warehouse and that took some balls. Only wish he could have seen it.

Dr. Strange nodded, understanding his anger, “Don’t worry Mr. Stark, once we had figured out what they’ve been doing, they have been top priority to find. I have people trying to find them now.” Dr. Strange paused, looking at you again, “So I’m assuming, Miss. Y/N, that you would like to go back home? It’s the least I can do for the trouble.”

You hesitated, unsure of your response with puzzled you, why wouldn’t you want to go home? Yeah, your home didn’t really hold much for you. You didn’t really have any close friends or connections. Not really any family either, but why hesitate? Right when you were about to speak, the front doors behind you burst open revealing a couple men and woman decked out in flowing robes. You quickly realized they were in fact not friendly when they took fighting stances, their hands starting to glow, and them releasing a loud battle cry before lurching forward at the rest of the group in a violent manner.

Faster than you could imagine, the heroes surrounding you quickly got into defensive stances, Bucky taking a few steps in front of you in a blink of an idea.

So right before your eyes, the fight broke out between the two sides. There were eight attackers, pairing and picking an Avenger. Bucky yelled towards you while three sorcerers ran towards the two of you, “Y/N, hide, we got this!” while running towards them to them, giving you more time to get away.

You scrambled backwards, trying to avoid being seen. Turning quickly, you bolted up the stairs. On the last step, something grabbed your ankle, causing you to fall and tumble down a few steps. Now on your butt, you saw a sorcerer has seen you escaping and parted from the group to get you. He was running towards you, with the whip that tripped you in one hand, a knife magically appearing in their other hand, and a fear inducing evil grin on his face.

Only a few steps away from you, the sorcerer leapt forward, positioning the knife in his hand to be able to stab you when he landed. When he was mid jump you suddenly grabbed the small gun out of the sheath in your outer thigh, lifted the gun up, aimed, and shot once, pulling the trigger in a mom. The sorcerer landed next to you, clutching his chest, the life slowly leaving his eyes with a gurgling mouth.

The bullet had rang loud, shocking everyone in the room. Most of the Avengers gave you a glance and saw you were okay and resumed their fighting. You teared your eyes off of the dying man next to you, scrambling to your feet and trying to not think, just do and survive. You couldn’t dwell on what you had just done right now.

Bucky yelled out your name, and you saw him with a sorcerer in his arms, with his thick metal arm choking him, “Strange! Send Y/N back home! Get her out of here!”

You yelled out, “No! Not yet, I can’t go back, you need help!”

A dark look crossed Bucky’s eyes right before he snapped the sorcerer’s neck with a twist of his arm, causing you to gasp. Letting the body drop, Bucky joined you, yelling, “You need to get out of here. We’ll handle it, I need you to get to safety!”

“No Bucky, I’m not ready…” you stuttered out, tears coming to your eyes. Somehow with your short time with the Avengers each and every one buried their way into your heart and you couldn’t imagine going back now.

Bucky took your face in his hands, “Y/N, you’ve done everything that you possibly could. You saved the Avengers from a lot of pain, especially me. But now, I need you to get out of harm’s way.”

You weakly shook your head, “No Buck, I can’t... I can’t leave you.” Somehow, the character your heart always ached for, became someone so much more for you. You really cared about him, and now you were going to have to leave him.

Pain and sadness flashed across his face, “It’s okay doll. You saved me, you saved me from my own God damn mind so I’m gonna save you.” Quickly he touched your forehead with his soft lips in a sweet kiss. Turning to Strange he yelled, “Strange! Send her back now!” letting his warm flesh and and cold metal hands leave your face.

“No!” you yelled, but Dr. Strange lifted his arm, sparking his ring. You lifted a hand to you mouth, and sob shaking your body as the ground gave way underneath you, plummeting you into an explosion of orange sparks.

It was the same sensation as the first time. Wind wiping you around, bright bright lights of orange, only this had a warm sensation unlike the past with the sting of cold it had. Just as quickly, it abruptly dropping you on the ground. Sensations flooded you.

Car alarms booming in your ears, the bright light of the sky, and the smells of a New York alley bombarding your nose. Gathering your body, you saw you were in the same alley you left in. No time had passed since you left, seeing your spilled purse beside you, with some of the contents missing. Nothing had changed here, but you. Everything was different now. But all that showed that the past week had even happened for you was the fighting suit you still had on. Emotions rose to the surface, your body shaking with your knees to your chest and back against a building.

Within a week, you were changed, and you changed them. You had been adopted into that Avenger’s family. Might some of the people you had always looked up to your whole life, and was welcomed with open arms. And Bucky. Oh Bucky, the man you always felt so sad for, was simply one of your favorite characters a few days ago and now he seems like so much more. He had helped you get through probably the most challenging and scary experiences you had undergone, but honestly, they didn’t seem that bad with him right there with him next to you. But now he’s gone. Everyone’s gone.

All you could you was bring your hands to your face and cry. Cry for the family you just lost and would never see again.

Bucky’s Pov:

After Strange had sent you back, the Avengers were able to quickly defeat the insurgent sorcerers. Bucky felt empty and emotionless, not really paying attention when Strange was thanking the for you help, or when the group traveled back to the tower. He was in a numb mindless state, not even listening to Steve when he asked if he was okay. When they got back to the tower, he immediately went to his room and didn’t leave it for days. Somehow, Y/N had wormed her way into his life in such a short time, providing such a stability he hadn’t had in such a long time, and now he didn’t know what to do. He stayed like that away from the rest of the team letting no one in his room. Until, the King of Wakanda busted down his door. Bucky’s head whipped up from the book he was reading in bed, when his door was kicked open, the lock breaking. Standing their in his formal robing was T’Challa himself. He stepped into the room, hands on hips looking in disapproval at the mess that was littering the whole place. Bucky’s cheeks warmed slightly, but he showed no emotion though.

“Barnes, what am I to do with you?” cocking his head to the side, looking at Bucky’s ragged form.

Bucky stuttered, loss for words, “Ummm… I don’t know your Highness, but congrats on your coronation.”

“Thank you, it has been a rough couple of weeks. Zemo’s attacks, Y/N’s arrival, my coronation, and Wakanda had just suffered a slight civil war.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at the mention of the civil war. “Don’t worry, it was nothing that I couldn’t handle, and Y/N had told me what she knew before she left. Said that I had a movie coming out, with the looks of a civil war with a certain Killmonger from the trailers she’s seen so it was definitely easier with your girl’s warning.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked at him saying Y/N was your girl. “I’m sorry T’Challa, but why are you telling me all of this?”

“Well, Miss Y/L/N also told me another piece of important information. While she hadn’t seen the movie yet, she knew of Wakandan technology and it’s enhancements and had an idea. She believed that Wakandan scientists including my sister Shuri, might be able to help with your Hydra conditioning.”

“What?” he said, jaw dropping wide open, “You could get rid of my trigger words?”

“I don’t know, but Y/N seemed to think so. Willing to come down to Wakanda and give it a try?”

Hope flooded his eyes, “Of course.” Even in another dimension, Y/N somehow seemed to still be helping him.

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just-the-fics-maam · 6 years

Text

Feast of Stephen: Chapter 1 - Arrival

A/N: A little AU!Tom for Christmas. A character @flappyhappyhiddles and I dreamed up.

The path up the mountain was crunchy with snow, and nearer the overlook where the little cabin was nestled, it took on a fine, powdery texture, and here and there the tires of the rented Jeep Grand Cherokee slipped and slid.

Robert did not take this particularly well. He was tense already, with a strange combination of anticipation and irritation at anything that stood in the way of himself and what waited at the cabin.

Maggie watched him glaring and gripping the wheel, and bit her tongue to keep from mentioning that if they had rented the stickshift Toyota that she had initially attempted to book, they could have downshifted safely and easily, dug the gripped tires into the slippery snow, and got up the mountain quickly.

“We’re nearly there,” said Robert, and Maggie was seized by a small and unavoidable feeling of nausea. He was smiling; he licked his bottom lip just a bit, left his lips parted, breathing hard as the Jeep hauled itself awkwardly up the sloping ground, as if he himself were pulling it.

“I’ve been waiting for my chance to really be who I want to be,” he said. He squared his shoulders. “It’s unfortunate, but it isn’t all bad, Maggie.”

She shrugged and leaned against the cold glass of the window, hoping they would arrive at the cabin soon and this terrible discussion would be finally over.

After seven more minutes of jostling and tense silence, the trees gave way to a clearing and she saw it suddenly perched on an overlook. When she had heard Robert say they were going up to the family cabin to settle his father’s affairs directly after Christmas, she had envisioned a smallish, rugged type of building, maybe rough-hewn split logs lined up to make a porch out front, a slight musty smell, windows that needed to be washed and dropcloths that needed to be pulled off the furniture and shaken out in the snowy yard when the family first arrived. But this? This was not a “cabin.” This was a house, and more than that, still.

It was tall; it looked like at least three stories, although being set on an overlook it might have had another half floor below. Every detail was finely wrought, with contemporary styling that made it seem more like a yoga retreat or a spread for Conde Nast House and Garden than a rugged family getaway.

“Finally!” she said as he pulled the parking brake. She kicked open her door and stretched her legs out over the fluffy snow. “I would have had us up here in half the time, you know,” she said, laughing and exulting slightly in the rush of cold air that filled the car.

“Maggie,” Robert said quietly.

Her guts turned to lead and she paused, inventorying the last few words she had said.

Pride.

She sighed and turned around to face him, pulling her legs back inside the car.

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit,” he said, then stared, waiting for her to reply.

She nodded; no sound would come out of her throat.

“Rather in humility value others above yourself,” he said. “Do I really have to complete the verse for you, still?”

She pressed her lips tightly together. “Not every time.”

“You know I only care about you,” he said, his voice softer. “It’s my duty to bear you up and keep you on the right path. Especially after… Especially considering… how things were for you when we met.”

“I know, Robert,” she said.

“Those other men out there don’t know what a precious thing you are,” he said.

She twisted her mouth, trying to hide her smile, hating how easily she forgave him.

“My own beautiful Maggie,” he said, leaning in for a peck.

He leaned in and she felt nothing but the dull flat press of his lips, then maybe just a bit of warmth. He smelled like Ivory soap.

He pushed his way out of the car and slammed his own door shut with a sharp metallic bang.

“Aren’t you coming?” she heard him say, his voice muffled by the snow.

–

“Robert! There you are, my darling,” said Kitty, whisking him inside with one wizened hand lightly on his shoulder.

“We would have come sooner, mother, but the snow…”

“And I’m so glad you made it safely,” she said. She frowned, clenching a wad of tissue in her hand. “It only makes me think of the… of the loss…”

“You know that I’d be careful,” said Robert, walking in with her and talking in low and businesslike tones, leaving Maggie in the entryway to stamp her boots and wrestle them off of her feet with no bench. She sat down quickly on the stairs opposite the door, wrangling with the boot laces.

On the table in the entryway: three framed photos.

Robert’s sister Susan, beautiful with dark hair, clear skin and the perfect smattering of freckles across her cheeks. Bright, clear green eyes and a dazzling smile.

Then Robert himself, in a picture that looked to be about ten years old, a confident smile on his face, much thinner than it was now, the gaunt spare look of a boy about eighteen or twenty, with eyes a bit too bright, who can never quite eat enough to keep up with his body’s ambitions.

Then, on the far side, a photograph of a man looking to the distance. He had an old look about him; something of a silver screen star. An elegance. A dissatisfaction. He looked as if he might open his mouth and suggest they all go somewhere else; somewhere better. After all, life is short, he would say. This picture, unlike those of Susan and Robert, was in black and white.

“Come, Maggie,” said Robert, and Maggie looked up from her spot at the foot of the stairs. She hopped up, stuck her boots beside the low window, and padded toward Robert.

“Is that a picture of your father?” she said, pointing at the black and white portrait.

He cleared his throat. “No,” he said. “No, that is not my father.”

“Who is it?”

“Come have a glass of Beaujolais!” cried Kitty from the kitchen. “Robert, it’s your favorite! Come on, and bring Meghan with you.”

“Maggie,” he said, but too quietly for his mother to hear.

“What,” she said.

He took a deep breath, then paused again. “There are a great many things I would have liked to explain to you in… more leisure than this. But there hasn’t been time.”

“What is it,” she said, her guts clenching again. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He smiled brightly. “Oh, nothing terrible,” he said. “Just that… That’s a picture of my brother.”

“Your brother? You have a–”

“Technically, I have a brother,” he said. “But he’s no brother to me.”

She stood, stunned. “Why would you never even mention–”

“The things he’s done to this family,” said Robert. “You can’t understand, I’m sure.” He took her in his arms, holding her tightly, though she did not uncross her own arms. “And I don’t want you to. I like having something perfect all to myself.”

“Robert!” cried his mother. “Susan and I have the wine poured, and Jeffrey will be here in less than an hour.”

“Jeffrey,” she said. “That’s… your brother? Who I just found out about?”

“No, Jeffrey is my father’s lawyer,” he said. “My brother will not be attending.”

“But isn’t that–”

“I’ll explain it later,” he said, then sighed. “Don’t be angry.” It was more of a command than a plea. He walked ahead of her down the hallway.

“Take your shoes off,” said Maggie. “You’ll track snow through the whole house.”

“My shoes are fine,” he said. He held out his hand. “Now come with me,” he said. “And let me show off my girl.”

—

She sat at the dining table, watching the last of the roast duck bring sliced and plated, her own stomach full and slightly seasick. She had not had to speak two words during dinner, with the maelstrom of words swirling around her from Robert’s entire family.

She had loved him deeply at first. Until they arrived at the house a few hours ago, she had considered that what she felt now must be that deepening of love that happened in time, when the shine of new lust had worn off. She had never had the luxury of true lust with him, the way he held her off in his seriousness, succumbing to her charms only once every few months or so, but the heat of the passion burned bright when he let it flare in their small downtown apartment.

She had moved to Chicago bright and full of plans, finishing grad school at Loyola quickly, and then moving to a mid-level job with an advertising firm. She had met Robert after a precipitous failure in her love life, having nearly compromised her professional reputation on a married man. A silver fox, with gleaming blue eyes, who treated her simply and kindly, and who was honest in his own way. He never promised anything he couldn’t deliver, but his discretion, which he owed to his wife, left something to be desired. She found a series of texts exchanged between himself and Maggie, and stormed to the downtown offices, screaming at Maggie that she was a stupid whore, causing a flurry and a quick call to security.

In the end Mrs. Bradford was removed from the building, and Bryant began proceedings for divorce in any case, but by then Maggie had outgrown her desire for excitement, and began to look on anything lust-driven as suspect and bound to fail.

She quit advertising, and began work at a small nonprofit to do with equal housing. He had just bought a row of rental houses and stopped into the small storefront near the Archdiocese offices to enquire about a program that would keep his houses let profitably through the winter and allow him a considerable tax break as well.

She had pushed the pamphlets over the desk toward him, and their eyes met; a fire burned in his blue eyes, and she found herself drawn to him. He was upstanding and principled in a way that Bryant had not been, and before long she was sitting with him for long dinners at a family-run Italian place, and sitting beside him in the pew at Holy Name Cathedral. He took his religious convictions seriously, it seemed, though he always seemed to be searching a bit for someone to blame, at least in his worst moments. But every man has his flaws, Maggie reminded herself, and he was always so kind to her, and never asked her for more than she wanted to give.

“I would spend time with you just to hold your hand,” he had said that spring, lacing his fingers in hers as they walked through Grant Park. But back at her apartment he had gripped her face between his hands, kissing her passionately, and she lost track of all time and space as she felt the thrill of him letting go completely, giving his body to hers and being somehow more human than he often was. She gripped him tightly as he came, gasping, and felt the gentle calm of being with him as mere mortals, their ideals tossed to the side with their clothes, strewn across the floor from the kitchen to the bed beneath the wide window.

And then the next day he had suggested they go to confession together.

“I’m not ashamed,” she had said, hot tears stinging her eyes.

“It’s time for you to start classes,” he said, and they had fought bitterly. But after two weeks of lonely cold dinners, looking at his scarf, left behind in their passionate romp, hanging now alone by the door, when he showed up at her office with a dozen roses and his heart in his hand, she took him back, and as she began to study the Catechism things fell into a kind of warm and protected order. Before long it felt as if nothing could get to her, between Robert and Our Father Who Art In Heaven, and then she was done fighting.

But here on the mountain something in his calm exterior was cracking.

“You’ve hardly eaten anything, Susan,” said Kitty, frowning at her daughter.

“Grief does strange things to people,” said Maggie suddenly, and everyone turned to stare at her. She realized then that she had not spoken at all in the past hour.

A pair of headlights shone in the front window.

“That must be Jeffrey,” said Kitty. “Robert, Susan, go out and show him in. I’ve had them shovel the walk earlier today but only in that one spot. Jeffrey will never find it, and he’s so… he’s quite large these days.”

“I.. ah…” said Susan, looking ill.

“I’ll go,” chimed Maggie, only too glad for a reason to hop to her feet. “You stay, you all stay.”

“Thank you,” said Kitty, smiling grandly. “Don’t forget to stomp your feet when you come back in, please.”

Out in the drive Maggie saw the snow curling up and around, swirling through the air in the illuminated beams.

She walked carefully to the car, a large grey SUV of some kind.

“Take this,” said a smooth voice, holding a case out to her with a black gloved hand, from behind the driver’s door.

She took it carefully.

“So what did mother say,” said the voice. “Shocked, I suppose?” There was a slight English tilt to the words, the voice as sleek and wicked as the movements of a housecat eyeing a fat canary in its cage.

“I, ah…” said Maggie. “Are you the… are you the lawyer?”

The man stood tall, and she saw then the face of the man in the black and white photo. He grinned. “You’re not Susan,” he said.

“And you’re not Jeffrey,” she said.

He held out his gloved hand. “I’m Eli,” he said. “But the family call me Tom.”

She shook his hand, too speechless to reply.

“That is, when they call me anything.”

“Hello,” she said.

“And what do they call you?” he said.

“Oh, oh, sorry,” she said. “They call me Maggie.”

“Do they?” he said. “I’ll bet Robert called you that straightaway, although your real name is much more regal.” He slammed the car door shut, a duffel slung over his shoulder. “May I call you by your real, regal name?” His voice was low.

She laughed nervously. “Maggie is just fine,” she said.

“Is she?”

The snow fell harder, and she could feel its flakes sticking to her forehead, melting there, presumably from the incendiary heat of her skin under this man’s oddly provocative gaze. She had an urge to hate him, but also to ally herself with him suddenly, as if he could shield her from the thick woollen blanket of indifference that awaited her back inside.

“Well, it’s… it’s nice to meet you.” I only found out about you two hours ago. She turned back toward the house.

“Wait, Maggie,” said Eli.

She turned back to him.

“Close your eyes and listen to the snow.”

She was so bewildered she could only obey.

“It’s the perfect sound,” he said. “It’s a sound like no sound at all. The tangible sound of a hush.”

He was right. She felt it around her, the cushion of soft silence.

“It’s as close to peace as we’re likely to get for days,” he said. She opened her eyes to see him staring intently, directly into her eyes.

“I’m glad I’ve met you, Maggie,” he said. “And I’m glad to have shared this silence with you.”

He walked with her to the door, the crunching of their boots the only sound. Her heart pounded and her head nearly spun with confusion, although two bottles of Beaujolais between the few of them at dinner didn’t help either.

At the base of the steps he placed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her up the wooden planks so she would not slip in the new snow. At the door, he pushed in, greeting Susan boisterously, and fielding the first shocked gasps from Kitty.

Maggie heard Robert’s silence as if it were a sound itself, though sharper and heavier than the silence of the snow outside. Eli’s gentle touch on her back burned through the chill of the evening, as intimate as if he had touched her bare skin. Through the rest of the evening, over cocktails and sitting beside the fire in the overstuffed leather furniture while the family made stilted conversation or sat in silence as the embers crackled, she lost all track of the miniscule drama among Robert and his family, and felt only Eli’s fingertips.

“Father, forgive me,” she thought, smiling gently at Robert as she met his eyes across the room, feeling the heat of his brother, sat only inches away from her.

And then: the lawyer’s knock came finally upon the door.

#feast of stephen #tom hiddleston #hiddleston #fanfic #au!tom #multi chapter #chapter 1

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