#when his first memory after being resurrected is his first meeting with his soulmate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enternalempires · 4 years

Text

What She Learned

Jasonette fic, a lil hurt/death, a lil romance, and I like it so... (also can someone please explain to me how to add the thing that I can make it so yo guys can click ‘read more’ instead of being forced to scroll past the whole thing???)

7-years-old and Marinette is told by one Chloe Bourgeois that she will never be worth anything in life, because ugly little girls like her don’t deserve attention. She’s pushed to the ground but she does not cry at her split knees or the scraps stinging on her palms; she stands up and she doesn’t talk back but she returns from school to a warm house and caring parents.

Her soulmate mark appears a month later and her bully spends a month sneering at the Phoenix resting against the inside of her wrist, dancing in reds and darkness and resurrection.

A week later, she learns that there are more important people to listen to than those who make her cry at 8 in the morning.

9-years-old and Marinette thinks that the blonde mayor’s daughter is the worst person she will have the unfortunate chance to meet. She gets insulted and glared at and has a hard time making friends but she is strong and she is kind and she will continue to stand even if she doesn’t know how important it is to get up after you fall.

She’s having dreams of dark streets and color nights; of dark gargoyles hanging off buildings, dirty-faced children, a city drowned in fear. She sees the face of a dizzy woman and an angry man and she wakes up terrified because there are bruises on a body that is not her own and the ache of an empty stomach underneath their palms. When she looks into a mirror there is a boy with a too-serious expression for such a young face and eyes blue enough to drown her in the sadness there.

She learns that there are some children out there who never had the chance to learn kindness before they learned how to survive.

10-years-old and Marinette is shoved into a row of lockers by a boy she doesn’t recognize, her pink dress and pigtails sneered at until tears fill her eyes. She doesn’t know how to defend herself but she tries until she’s shoved onto the school’s grimy floor and breaks a finger trying to catch herself.

She does not cry, she does not say sorry, she does not think that it is fair for her teacher to say, “Boys will be boys,” instead of “I’m sorry you got hurt on my watch.” She will continue to stand up for herself even after a broken wrist.

She asks her parents about the nightmares, about the boy with blue eyes and an empty stomach; they tell her about her soulmate and they tell her that one day, she is going to meet him and love him how their parents loved each other.

13-years old and Marinette does not understand the word sacrifice but she is about to learn. She flinches at the sight of magic-tainted earrings and feels her fingertips run cold with insecurity— because she never wanted this, she didn’t want to be a hero and she didn’t want to be in charge of saving people when, in the past, she never knew how to save herself.

It has been a year and she starts to see flashes of a man in black and a large house that feels too clean to be tainted, too open to be safe. She sees the reflection of a boy in red, green, and yellow and feels the comfort of the heavy books underneath his fingers.

He never got the chance to be smart before, never got the right education, never learned something unless it helped him stay alive— and she goes to sleep smiling because even though he’s not quite happy, at least he’s safe.

15-years-old and Marinette is dreaming of a man in green and purple and she’s sobbing because— he’s getting hurt and she’s watching from his eyes and she can’t do anything about it. He cries out for his father, for the man promised to be there, and he dies alone and staring at a bloody crowbar, his blue eyes going dull in the reflection of his own blood.

She wakes up screaming and feeling empty and with the Phoenix on her wrist looking like nothing more than a pile of ash, red feathers and glowing eyes going blurry and dark. There is not enough light in the world to make her chest hurt any less and her parents hold her as she cries but don’t speak; there is nothing that could be said to comfort someone in the face of a loss like this.

She learns what it is like to be alone for the first time in her life and she no longer knows how to dream.

17-years-old and Marinette is standing at the bottom of the Eiffel tower, ruination around her, swirling and teetering on the edge of death, surrounding her like a wet blanket, the water of horror digging deep into her bones. She has watched her comrades die for her and she has watched them protect her with everything in them, believing that she will win. Believing that she will bring them back— and she does, and they’re safe, but nothing can change the fact that she will always remember what her loved one’s looked like dead, empty eyes staring right at her.

She did not win against Hawkmoth, not really, not when she has lost so much. She casts her cure and she returns home with the two recovered miraculouses, a heavy heart, and enough trauma to last a lifetime.

She knew what it felt like to mourn someone she never met but now she learns how it feels to grieve two people at once, even when they are still alive.

19-years-old and Marinette is staring at the fire that consumed the bakery, her home, her parents. She saw too many horrible, traumatic things that it takes a couple seconds to register that this is it, they’re not coming back. Because yes, she has seen the world end but no, the world did not end. She is used to being able to fix things that are broken in a way that makes sure they never broke but this is not one of those things and her parents are not some of the people whose lives she has the luxury of saving.

She is desperate to run and she is desperate to fight but there is no longer a battle in Paris. Her instincts tell her to go, go, run, don’t look back and don’t think about the bodies left behind, so she does and she ends up in Gotham and she ends up looking at familiar gargoyles and familiar streets and feels an ache so wide inside her heart she’s surprised it’s still beating.

She owns a small bakery on the corner of crime alley that is the only neutral ground in seemingly all of Gotham and she learns how to bake without crying at the scent of baked bread, turning her grief into comfort as she’s surrounded by her parent’s smell and memories of her childhood— she shares that comfort with any kids who come in looking for a safe place to spend the night.

21-years-old and Marinette has built herself a home; the building is old but warm and drenched in magic. She found all the other Miraculous boxes and lets the Kwamis roam free inside of her apartment, there’s over a hundred of them in total but she bonded with them all and, in return, they love her. She is the Guardian; both a monster and a protector at once.

The kids flock to her like moths to a flame and over the years she has gained all of their trust. She asks for nothing in return when she gives them food and medicine and a warm place to sleep. There’s magic on the doors that lead to rooms full of bunk beds and closets with food and medical supplies and sleeping bags and all is welcome— the kids know about the Kwamis and they know that she is safe, in a world that has taught them to fear everything, she is safe.

They call her the Guardian or Lady luck and she learns how to have a family again without being terrified of losing them.

23-years-old and Marinette has just saved one of her kids from Scarecrow. It is not the first time and it will not be the last. There are those that are terrified of her, gang leaders and villains that won’t step foot onto her land— but these are her kids, these are her people, this is her home and she will not feel guilty for protecting them.

She is polite to Batman and the other vigilantes, she has made friends with the Sirens, and she knows her way around Gotham and she knows when there is a problem that needs to be solved. She does not know what to make of Red Hood or the dreams that come with him or how her fingers tremble when one of the older kids comes through the bakery’s doors with a crowbar tucked under her arm.

She does not know how to make her mind any lighter, she does not know how to get rid of the darkness but she learns that there is such a thing as healing with time.

24-years-old and Marinette comes home from patrol and finds her balcony’s doors open and the living room smelling like blood. She sees Red Hood’s eyes for the first time and she does not cry, she does not fall, and she does not flinch. They are blue and more angry than sad and guilty— so, so guilty— but she knows them well. Her wrist burns and the Phoenix rises again from the ashes, and she no longer feels so alone.

She patches Hood— Jason, his name is Jason— up and she still does not fall over but her knees are weak, so very weak because he’s here and he’s alive and oh my God. She does not ask about the bullet wound but she asks about the sickly and tainted magic clinging to his skin. He tells her about waking up in the Lazarus Pit and when asked, she tells him about a boy in white and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

They do not know each other’s past well, they do not know so many things but they know that they don’t want to lose each other again. They do not know what to do next but she learns not to question it because her soulmate is alive and that’s good enough for her.

26-years-old and Marinette is getting married under a sky full of stars and the hands in hers are warm and there’s nothing cold about her life. She has her home, she has her kids and bakery and she has her Kwamis. She has Jason and he isn’t gentle but he is kind and he knows how to hold her just right when she feels like falling apart. She is kind and soft and knows how to hold him when he feels like the madness is getting worse again.

She is happy for one of the first times in years and she knows that, despite it all, she’d go through it again if it meant she could end up here; happy in her husband's arms and cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

She has learned a lot and she’s not even 30, but she has learned how to love and how to be loved and how to always get up when she falls. She knows how to stand, feet firmly planted into the ground, and she knows how to not let herself get blown over when things get too hard.

But if she did happen to let herself fall?

Well, now there’s someone there to catch her.

#jasonette #jason x marinette #mlb fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #fanfic #batman dc #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #death #learning #soulmate AU #cute #love #marriage

83 notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years

Text

A Letter to My Soulmate

@nalu-week Day 4 prompt Note

short Drabble. idea came from @random-rave

Everyone knows Natsu is just not into reading books, which was even funnier when you consider that his wife is an author. Nothing wrong with that. His talents lay in the physical while hers resided in the world of words. Hell, her prowess with a pen even saved his life once upon a time. But despite not being fond of reading, he was still her biggest fan and supporter. Each time she published a new book, he made sure to read it… even if it took a few attempts from falling asleep in between.

They were mostly fairytale or fantasy inspired and perfect to read to the kids as bedtime stories. Which is where he found himself that day ready to skim through her latest creation. Lucy had taken the kids to visit the Redfox family. So, with the house all nice and quiet for once, Natsu sat down to read.

He opens it to the first few pages and notices Lucy had included an Author’s note. That wasn’t unusual, she’s done it before. Her first book was dedicated to her mother, another to their twins after they were born. Natsu scans over the page curious to see who was the lucky recipient this time.

** Author’s Dedication, A letter to my soulmate.

Some say that soulmates only exist at the end of a writers pen. It is a level of relationship that just sounds too good to be true, created simply for a fairytale life. As a writer I must agree that the idea is a dream to work with. I mean who doesn’t like a happy ending when two people that are perfect for each other end up together. Hence why it is the focal point of this current book.

But you know… they also say, fantasy can become reality.

When I was a little girl, the idea of a Prince charming who’d sweep me off my feet to live happily ever after was a way to cope with my lonely childhood. I imagined he’d be strong and brave, but kind and caring to all. A perfect man who was my balance, my soulmate if you will, and I often wondered if I’d ever meet someone who would live up to such high standards. For years I’d watched out for this person…

Do you remember the spell I’d been under when we met? Did you know that a Charm spell can only be broken by a soulmate? By now you might be realizing what this message is leading to… how special you really are.

Please do not feel bad. I only found out years later, the truth of our fated meeting. It still gives me goosebumps whenever I think about it. Imagine. What were the odds of us both being in the exact same place at the exact same time? Most people are never lucky enough to find the one person in this big world who is their perfect match, but I’ve been blessed to have them in my life for half of mine. Our life and journey proves that fairytales really can come true.

I love you.

By the time he finishes reading the short passage, Natsu hadn’t realized there was a fresh trail of tears trickling down his face. They were happy tears but tears nonetheless as the memories of those long-ago days wash back into his mind of Hargeon and Bora, and a certain blonde who’s never left his side since. He had no idea that was how the spell had been broken for Lucy, just assuming it was simply the raucous events that had knocked some sense into her.

He sits back and closes the book in his lap. Soulmates, huh? He chuckles, well it does make sense. One could even go further to call it fate, considering he had technically died and been resurrected, then sent 400 years into the future by Lucy’s own ancestor who’d helped to raise him. If that wasn’t a case of, they were meant to be together, he didn’t know what else to call it.

‘I wonder why she never told me sooner?’ Lucy probably assumed he would see it, knowing he’d read the book sooner or later and he had to admit this was kind of cool. Not a lot of people even knew the whole story of their meeting, yet here it was announced to the entire world and memorialized for all of written time. Natsu didn’t want to believe his life was out of his own control, but in this situation… guess he should thank this thing called destiny.

He opens the book again to chapter one, reading along with a renewed interest. Paragraph after paragraph he reads. ‘She didn’t…’ the tears well up again and cloud his vision for she’d written their story. The names were changed, locations were made up, but it was like reliving their journey. He couldn’t believe it. Oh, now he really couldn’t wait to read it to the kids!

#nalu week 2020 #nalu week #nalu #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #natsu fan fic #natsu fan fiction #prompt: note #natsu x lucy #petri808

92 notes · View notes

maximoffvizh · 5 years

Text

fic: take me out and take me home

a ‘you see everything in black and white until you meet your soulmate’ au. posted here at ao3 | mostly canon compliant except vision was resurrected for endgame

Vision has always seen in colour.

Even before he came to consciousness, when he was a stone and a body and a floating intelligence searching for an anchor, there was colour. It was shadow and light, and he understood it, processed each shade with his new mind. He knew the strange blinking lights in Stark Tower, mind telling him they were named red and blue and green, and he looked at the colours of the people. The red of the scarf tangled around Ms. Maximoff's neck and shoulders, the different red of the jacket she wore later, and the green of her eyes when they found his in the falling train.

It wasn't until later that he learned what colour meant. The world is black and white until you meet your soulmate, and when known public figures see colour it's something worth reporting. He finds out that Mr. Stark kept it hidden for years that he saw colour when he met Ms. Potts, that Captain Rogers went into the ice in a bright world and came out to one of fading pastel as Ms. Carter's health declines, that Ms. Romanoff is always tight-lipped about whether she sees colour or not, that Colonel Rhodes only know his once-partner is alive because he still sees colour.

His world is colour, and he doesn't hide that. He sees the blue of the sky, the green of the grass, the red of Ms. Maximoff's lipstick. It shortens any debate on who he is, what he is - if he sees colour, he has a soul. One matched perfectly with another out there, and he tries to understand why he saw colour before he existed, before the lightning shocked life into his veins. If one of the group who saw him born is his soulmate, he still shouldn't have seen colour until they were in the same room.

Late at night, when no one else is awake, he finds the videos that are splashed all over the Internet of soulmate meeting for the first time. Careful editing is done to match the perfect moment when two people lock eyes and see in colour for the first time, and he feels a lump in his throat watching footage of two young women getting married in the brightest colours he's even seen, this celebrating of matching souls. He'll never have the true moment of knowing, the glance up accompanied by tears he sees in another video of someone being brought together with their soulmate in a coffeeshop. He even watches the interview where Mr. Stark publicly announced that Ms. Potts was his soulmate after years of publicly denying he saw colour, and their soft smiles and happy eyes leave him raw. He wants that with someone.

A soft knock on the door, and he closes his laptop and opens the door to Wanda. The green of her eyes and the pale scatter of her freckles, and he notes the deep blue of her pyjamas, the white stripes, and then the redness that rims her eyes, the blotching on her nose and cheeks. She's been crying. "I can't sleep," she says softly, twisting at one of the tiny pearlescent buttons on her shirt. "Can I sit up with you?"

"Of course, Ms. Maximoff," he says, moving aside to let her in. She looks so vulnerable in pyjamas, hair in braids, young and lost and sad.

"Please just call me Wanda," she says, and he ducks his head, embarrassed that she has to ask again. "Can I borrow a blanket?" His stack are folded neatly on his desk chair, all bought at the recent trip Ms. Romanoff took them on in her excitement at the new compound, and he reaches for the top one before she says, "Not that one. The navy one."

He pulls out the particular blanket, velvety navy material that matches her pyjamas, and asks, "So you see colour?"

"I do," she says quietly, and there's a heaviness in her voice. He wonders if somehow the source of the colour was her brother, platonic soulmates have been proven to be viable thought he's never heard of family soulmates, but that wouldn't make sense. She would see in black and white now.

He wants to ask so badly, to find out who it was that brought her colour, to know the story behind the magical moment of black and white bursting into brightness, but something about the look in her eyes stops him. He just returns to his laptop, another article of someone writing up their joy at meeting their soulmate and describing the colour of everything they've seen, and lets her sit quietly until she moves closer. They watch a movie on Netflix, a romantic comedy about a young woman who sees a pair of best friends at exactly the same time and doesn't know which brought colour to her and the various hijinks that ensue, and she falls asleep on his shoulder. He feels her breath warm against his neck and the desperate desire to protect her warms in his chest.

It soon becomes apparent to him that it's not culturally acceptable to ask about someone's soulmate. He's not supposed to ask someone if they see colour, who it was that gave them that, whether someone has lost their colour again after a tragedy. Learning about the stories of his teammates is slow, tiny pinpricks of information gleaned over conversations after training, at night, over team dinners. Mr. Wilson saw in colour for a few years, but hasn't since his wingman in the military died. But he refuses to subscribe to the belief that there is only one perfect person for everybody, thinking that he just met one possible soulmate and there will be another one. Captain Rogers always looks particularly grim during those conversations.

He starts to forget the mystery of why he saw colour before he was truly alive. It's enough to see it, to appreciate it, to see Wanda wearing a new jumper and says, "That shade of red looks lovely on you, Wanda." To see her smile and tug the sleeves down over her ringed fingers, hair lighter than it was when he met her, her eyes still that same glowing green. She teaches him that he doesn't have to understand each other with her confessed lack of understanding of her own powers, her shushing him whenever she asks a rhetorical question about science and he tries to explain. The world is a more beautiful place when shrouded in magic and mystery - and there is nothing more magical or mysterious than his feelings for Wanda.

Colour stays with him even as his world falls apart. As he loses friends, watches news bulletins that flash Wanda's face across them when she's arrested, as he sits alone in the compound at the chessboard and stares at nothing. It's a time when the colours seem to fade, when his mind is barred up by a mist of sadness, and the colours only seem to brighten again after he finds a note hidden behind the coffee machine with his name on it. With an address and a tiny note written in Wanda's familiar slanted hand, obviously left there by Scott or Clint after they were placed in the compound for a few nights during their deal negotiations.

He goes to see her, and the colours of her overwhelm him almost immediately. She's changed her hair to a lighter brown, cut it short, curling around her jaw beneath a dark green baseball cap. Different colours now, her signature red too likely to get her caught, and she's so beautiful and bright, even when the air is heavy with early resentment. They talk in a park, half-hidden in bushes of bright flowers, and when she smiles for the first time he smiles back.

His colours are different when he sees her, the blonde hair and the pale skin, and when she smiles and he feels heat trace across his cheek her fingers trace the splash of pink on his skin, fascinated. Their eyes meet, in the quiet of a hotel room, and she tugs at the sleeves of her shirt - striped navy and white, knotted to show off a strip of pale skin above the waistband of her dark jeans - and meets his eyes. "Why have you never asked me when I started to see colour?"

"I learned it isn't polite to pry into someone's history with their soulmate," he says, and she sets her half-empty mug of tea down on the carpet between them. Perhaps it was once coloured, but now it's a murky grey, and she shifts on it to curl her bare feet beneath her and shift closer to him. "And I never know how to answer when people ask me. I've just...always seen it."

"Always?" she asks, and he nods. "So someone in the room the night you were...born-"

"I prefer created," he says, and she cracks a small smile.

"So we'll celebrate your creation day instead of your birthday, got it," she teases, and he smiles. "But someone in the room that night...they'd have to be your soulmate?"

"Not necessarily," he says. "I...saw colour before then. I remember it, just being this...conscious thing. And I didn't see black and white, I saw red and yellow and all these colours. It was always there for me." He glances at her, the seriousness in her eyes, and asks, "When did you start to see colour?"

"The moment that I looked into your head while you were still in the cradle." He blinks at her in confusion, and she raises a hand before she hesitates. "Can I show you?" He nods, and she brings her hand to the mind stone, and he accepts the gentle press of her mind into his, of her memories mingling with his. He sees the world in black and white, as he's never seen it, and he sees the cradle he came from, sees Wanda's pale hands, laden in rings, creep across its lid. And the explosion of colour, the world painting itself bright, and then he's back in the hotel room, staring into her beautiful green eyes.

"You...I gave you colour?" he asks, and she nods, pulling her lower lip nervously between her teeth. "And...you gave it to me?"

"I guess I did," she says, stumbling over the middle of the sentence like she's choking up, and he stares at her for a long, silent moment. Then he jerks forward to close the distance between them and kiss her, cradling her face between his hands, and her arms fly around his neck and pull him close, months of pent-up emotions poured into a kiss that turns into wandering hands pulling at clothes, her smile a silken promise against his skin, the bed squeaking beneath them and her wrapped around him so tightly he can't tell where he ends and she begins.

Much later, so late that dawn is creeping a glowing finger across the horizon, he lies with her propped up on his chest, her fingers wandering an idle path down the plate of vibranium that crosses his chest, he asks her, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? That we're soulmates?"

"I...at first, I had a hard time coming to terms with it," she says, hand moving back up to prop her better on his chest, her hair falling forward against his skin, the sheet tangled around them both. "I looked in your head, and saw annihilation, then the world turned to colour. And I spent that whole day thinking this thing that would only bring destruction was meant for me, but then you...were created. And you're you. Then I didn't want to tell you because you...you didn't question the way the world is. And we were becoming friends, getting close, and I didn't...I didn't want you to feel pressured to be with me because we're soulmates." She looks up at him, gives a tiny bashful smile, and says, "I genuinely liked you. And I wanted you to genuinely like me, not just because the universe says it's meant to be."

"I do genuinely like you," he says, and she smiles so brightly he's overwhelmed. Leans up to kiss him again, and as the sun rises he loses himself in her.

Colour rules his life with her. When she dyes her hair red, and wears bright colours in the sun-drenched cities they frequent, and he buys her bouquets of flowers, and spends hours gazing at the green of her eyes. Every day he's overwhelmed by how beautiful she is, and every night she reminds him that it was her who brought him colour. He falls in love with her so slowly, and realises it in a stunning rush watching her skip stones across a loch in the Scottish Highlands, scarf tugged up around her mouth against the cold day.

She's wearing a grey beanie and a green checked coat, white trainers scuffed with mud and moss, and when she joins him sitting on a wide flat rock and pulls him in by his collar to kiss him he tries to imagine the words. Sees them standing out in every glowing colour in his mind, and vows that he'll say them to her the next time he visits. When he walks past a jewellery store and a red stone in a gold setting catches his eye, the band of the ring a slender golden braid, he buys it and slips it into the pocket of a black coat. Only to think later that buying a ring means he wants to keep her colour in his life forever.

If only he could. But it won't work out, and he finds himself asking her to destroy him, making the choice to die at the hands of the woman he loves. To make it peaceful, to not show pain, and to focus on her colours. The green of her eyes, the red of her hair and her uniform, the silver slick of tears on her cheeks. To speak the words he never told her before, to feel at peace with her knowing before he dies.

Then he knows confusion. Pain. Blackness. Oblivion. A slow climb through shades of grey back to the surface, into white light. And no colour, a world in black and white. He knows Mr. Stark's face, full of concern, knows Shuri hovering next to him, and the first words from his mouth come out caught in a sob. "Why can't I see colours?"

Mr. Stark and Shuri exchange a look, and he repeats it frantically. "Why can't I see colours?!"

"Vision, it's...oh God, it's hard to explain...what do you remember?" Mr. Stark stares at him, and he looks hollow and miserable, and a horrible jolt goes through him. "Thanos got them. All of the stones. And he...he snapped. Destroyed half the life in the universe."

A horrible chill drips down Vision's spine, and he sees Shuri turn her face away, her shoulders heave, when he pleads, "Where's Wanda?"

"I'm so sorry, Vision." He can't bring himself to look up, can't look at Mr. Stark's grey face, his ears ringing when he finally hears that solemn, "She didn't make it."

"No. No no no no no no no it was supposed to be alright it was supposed to work she was supposed to be safe-" He can't breathe, chest tight and panic crawling in him, and then Mr. Stark is far away, voice like he's underwater, urging him to take a deep breath and unclench and calm down, tugging him up from the wing and out onto the balcony and the air and the grim, grey world without Wanda.

It's been five years, he learns quickly. They revived him because they have a way to help, to go back to set the world right again, to bring back everyone they lost. He learns Mr. Stark has a child, a sweet little girl intrigued by Vision. Colonel Rhodes is seeing in colour brighter than before, and Vision watches his interactions with Captain Danvers in mourning, seeing his days with Wanda in their stilted dance around each other. He tries to pretend to muddle along with the team, but he's only enthusiastic about the plan for the slim chance he'll have Wanda back.

When they stand around waiting for Mr. Banner to snap the gauntlet, with his eyes still brightened by tears after Ms. Romanoff's death, Vision stares out at the empty shades of grey that make his world. He locks eyes with Mr. Barton for a moment, knows that he has seen in black and white too since his wife died in the Snap, and they exchange a respectful nod. Just the two of them desperately hoping for their soulmates back.

Mr. Banner snaps. The sound echoes around the room, and Mr. Lang is the first to pipe up, "Did it work?" Vision looks around desperately, and almost collapses when the world brightens to dull pastels. It slowly brightens, he can see the red patch on the breast of the bird outside, and he hears a wrecked sob from Mr. Barton, and looks around the shellshocked, silent room.

"It worked," he says, and every face brightens in hope.

Then the first missile hits the compound, and the world turns to chaos. The sounds of battle, smoke, Vision dragging Colonel Rhodes out of the bottom of the compound before he drowns in the water pouring in, forever looking. Waiting, hoping that this coloured world will bring her back to him, that he'll see her. Captain Rogers standing looking out over the battlefield, a single man facing down a war, and then the spark of yellow in the corner of Vision's eyes. Spinning softly gold, and then the familiar sound of Mr. Wilson's engines, and the field is flooded with reinforcements.

He starts to cry the moment he sees that familiar glow of red, sees her, Wanda landing with the Asgardians. But before he can run to her the battle is raging, and he's forced to fight, hearing a call overhead from Mr. Wilson of, "Glad you're back, buddy!" He can't pause to acknowledge him, pushing his way through the fray to get to Wanda.

She's fighting Thanos alone, throwing balls of bright crackling energy at him, and Thanos is glaring, raising his weapon to sweep her out of his way, no doubt to break her against one of the chunks of rock lying around. And Vision presses power into the new gem at his forehead, Shuri's creation to replace the mind stone, and leaps between the woman he loves and Thanos, snarling, "Get away from her."

The jet of hot power melts Thanos' weapon, and he growls and roars, "Rain fire!" to his allies. Bullets rain down on the battlefield, and a scarlet shield slams down over Vision to protect him, and he turns to face Wanda, her eyes wide and silvered with tears.

"Vizh?" She reaches for him, the power wrapped around her fingers tingling against his skin when she cups his face, and she lets out a sob. "Are you real?"

"I'm right here," he breathes, wrapping a hand around her waist, holding her close, drinking in the beautiful sight of her. "You brought my colour back."

"Oh God, I was so scared, I...I woke up right where I left you, right where you died, and I could see colour but I still...I thought I'd lost you," she says, words trailing off in a sob, and he pulls her tightly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She's clutching at him so hard it hurts, but he welcomes it, welcomes the slight pain. It reminds him he's alive, she's alive, they're together.

"I love you," he breathes, and she pulls away from him, thumb brushing a tear gently away from his cheek.

"I love you too," she whispers, and launches herself into a kiss, and he pulls her so close her feet fly off the ground, just the two of them in their bubble of red in the centre of a battle. In a bright world, together.

"Hey!" They break apart at the yell, Mr. Barton sprinting full-force past them cradling the gauntlet beneath one arm, shouting, "We have bigger problems right now than reunion makeouts!"

Vision fights. He fights harder than he ever has before, because he has a future to fight for. It's right there on the battlefield, wrapped up in the magnificence of Wanda Maximoff, her hair and coat flying, so stunningly colourful amongst the smoke. When it's all over, when the field echoes with the distant sobs of their allies, when Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts are holding each other in the shadow of Mr. Stark's body, he finds her at the edge of it all. There's a crimson line of blood on her cheek, and her eyes are rimmed with red.

"I thought everything would be alright when we came back," she says quietly when he sits down next to her. "I thought...I know Nat died. But I thought this battle...I thought we could do it without losing anyone." She shifts on the rock she's sitting on, and she says, "I know I wasn't close to him...God knows there was no love lost between us, but I...I-"

"You don't have to explain your feelings to me," he says, and slides an arm gently around her. "I'm here, Wanda. No matter what." He kisses her temple, smooths a finger over the wound on her cheek to smear the blood away, and murmurs, "I love you."

She leans against him and sighs, and he pulls his cape around her, letting the silence settle over them. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. It's enough to know that he brought her colour.

He will always see in colour. And she will too.

#scarlet vision #scarletvision fic #scarletvision au #beth writes fic

63 notes · View notes

lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years

Note

Hello I'm not sure if you're taking prompts as of late, but I really love the way you write angst and tackle the supercorp rift. Arc!Lena is so satisfying to read and Lena being understanding is so tiring. So if you have the time or like the idea, will you please write about a Supercorp Soulmate AU where people only realize they're soulmates after a certain moment? Would love to see your take on them finding out they're soulmates after Season 3, maybe even during an accidental identity reveal.

A/N: Maybe not what you were looking for, but technically you specify why KIND of soulmate au you wanted, so this is the soulmate fic that happened. Hope you like it anyway!

Lena gets her first note on her tenth birthday. She’s been writing on her skin for years, hoping to get a response, but this is the first time she’s gotten one.

The one she writes is simple:

I’m ten years old today.

Lena scrawls the note on her forearm. Her father has gifted her with an ornate ballpoint pen, its ink smooth and the casing metallic. It sits heavy in her hand as she waits, staring at her arm for a response to materialize on her skin.

Nothing has yet, in the countless times she’s tried before. But today is her birthday.

Maybe, today will be different.

But her arm remains bare, and Lena endures dinner alone with no response. Lex doesn’t care about soulmates. He already wrote to his that they can keep their words to themselves. Lena craves it– a soulmate was a bond she was born with. They would have to like her, and all the things that made her odd.

She’s in bed and half-asleep when her palm fills with a strange prickle that focuses into the dull pressure of pen on skin.

Happy birthday

For the first time since her mother died, Lena cries.

That first message isn’t punctuated, nor are any of the stilted, lopsided notes that follow. They look like they belong to a first grader. Lena wonders if that’s why it took so long for her to get a message. Maybe her soulmate is younger, or has a learning disability. Lena doesn’t care. She’s just glad she has one.

Her very own soulmate.

The messages quickly grow neater, and the spelling improves… a little. Rather than youth or disability, Lena deduces that english isn’t her soulmate’s first language. They learn quickly, but much of their early exchanges read like a tutoring session.

What does moron mean?

It’s a derogatory term for someone who isn’t smart.

The words all fade and her arm remains bare for long minutes before her soulmate responds.

What’s derogatory.

Lena doesn’t mind the endless questions. She likes sharing knowledge, even if that knowledge is simple vocabulary. By Christmas, their handwriting smooths and the exchanges grow to more than just grammar and word use.

Where are you? Lena asks one day.

On the beach. Where the sand meets the water.

Alone in her room in an empty dormitory, Lena imagines the beach would be quite lovely. Even the cold dreary ones like they have on the northern coast. She wonders if her soulmate is on one of those, or a beach in the tropics, skin dark and glowing.

Why are you the only one I can write to this way? her soulmate asks. It doesn’t work with my sister.

We’re soulmates. And in case her soulmate doesn’t know what that means– Fate chose us to share a bond. It can only exist between two people. No one knows exactly why.

So we’ll marry one day?

Maybe. If we want to. Many do.

There’s a long pause, and Lena assumes her pen pal has gotten distracted. She returns to her book, but only stares at the words instead of reading them.

When the words resume, it’s with new knowledge.

My sister says it’s because we share a soul. Two halves of a whole.

Lena grimaces, but hesitates before writing back. I disagree. Two whole souls, that match.

People lose their soulmates. Sometimes they never meet. They can choose someone else. Those people still find love, and live happy, complete lives. Soulmates are a joining, stronger together.

I like that better, comes the response. Punctuated by a doodle of a small smiling face.

Lena thinks she might love her soulmate already.

At sixteen, they’re best friends. They write constantly, to the point Lena is reprimanded for distraction in class, but by then it doesn’t matter. She’s set to graduate, and graduation day is when they’ve chosen to reveal themselves.

In between doodles and pronouns, they’ve dubbed each other Stranger. It was funny at age twelve, and it’s held in the years since. There isn’t any rush, and names mean little to the conversations they share. And, if Lena is being honest with herself, she likes having someone who cares for her without knowing who she is.

The day she walks the stage, Lena itches to pull pull out her pen and confirm the deed is done. That the time has finally come. But it’s too public: people are suddenly going to miss her now that they’re all spreading to the winds, and voices pull her every which way.

She wants calm, and quiet, to learn the most important facts of her life.

It never comes. Her mother doesn’t attend the ceremony, but does come to collect her. What worries Lena more is that her brother is absent from both.

“There’s been an accident,” her mother informs her as soon as she climbs into the car, still in her cap and gown. Lena sits, stunned, sure that whatever it was, Lex has been caught in it.

The truth is worse.

The FBI believe Lex is responsible for the bombing in Metropolis, and have him picked up for questioning before Lena reaches the manor. She waits days for him to come home, but they arrest him from the interview room. He doesn’t return to the manor.

It’s just her, her mother, and the lawyers that suddenly seem to live in their drawing room.

Lena is so distracted that she doesn’t notice the lack of communication from her pen pal, until almost a week later a scrawled, jerky note presses into her skin.

My father’s dead.

Her soulmate is adopted, but she loves the family that took her in, and the evidence of her grief is etched in the jagged lines of the letters, and the stuttering shake of their manifestation.

He was in Metropolis.

Bile rises in Lena’s throat.

Caught in the explosion.

After a week of stunned apathy, tears finally rise to Lena’s eyes. The words blur and fade, and Lena feels empty for the first time since her tenth birthday.

I don’t know what to do.

Lena does the only thing she can think to do. She reaches for a pen, and scratches out the two words that fill her ears like thunder.

I’m sorry.

Contact lessens after that. Lena can’t find any words to send, and the ones that come to her skin don’t invite response.

The service was beautiful. I wish you’d been there.

My sister hasn’t spoken in days.

Eliza cries every night.

Lena reads it all, searing it into her memory as her brother is ripped apart by the press, and her world narrows to manor to which she’s confined. For her own safety.

Eventually, the words turn to them.

I want to see you. My name is–

Lena strikes a line through before the letters fully emerge. Terror makes her hands shake.

No. Don’t tell me.

She can’t know. She can’t tell her soulmate who she is. Who they claim her brother is. Not when…

We can’t meet. Not yet.

Lena feels the hurt and bewilderment in the silence that follows, more powerful than any words, when her arm stays bare.

When the response comes, hours later, it’s only two letter– the shortest message from her soulmate that Lena’s ever seen.

They get no closer to meeting as Lex’s arrest gains momentum. Her mother’s attempts to have him released on bail come to nothing. Instead, the charges against him mount and mount, from embezzlement to extortion to murder. Mass murder.

Lena tries to believe his protestations when he calls home, but it gets more and more difficult as the news finds more secrets every day and puts them on full display. Her father’s memory crumbles to pieces, tarnished by evidence that ties Lex’s crimes to his.

And the one person Lena has to talk to, remains firmly off limits.

They try.

They offer again and again to help with whatever is bothering her. The last time, Lena’s at college and her brother has been in prison for over a year, despite his lack of trial.

Instead of asking if, they can meet, her soulmate asks when.

Her heart lodges in her throat as she reaches for a pen, and scribes the answer she’s hidden in her heart of hearts for almost a year.

Never.

After that, Lena’s skin remains unblemished. For years. She has only herself to blame, and the emptiness in her chest hardens to steel. She throws herself into her studies. She earns two degrees, and graduates with a masters.

Armed with knowledge and steel, she accepts the board’s offer of CEO. Oh, they expect her to fail, but Lena has other plans. She devotes herself entirely to resurrecting the good she once believed her family stood for.

It’s in that first year of her tenure as CEO that she feels the phantom pressure on the inside of her wrist. She almost thinks she’s imagining it, but when she looks, she finds the familiar script of her soulmates hand gracing her skin.

I miss you.

Lena almost sobs right there at her desk. It’s all that comes.

Lena doesn’t write back.

After that, other messages start to trickle in. Infrequent, but cherished all the same. Some express confusion, others simple, or poetic. All of them convey the same sadness Lena’s felt since the day of her high school graduation.

I don’t understand what happened. I hope you’re okay.

The sun felt really nice today.

Sometimes I wonder if you died too.

All of them go unanswered, but they continue to appear, random and without cause. It’s the only thing that keeps Lena going when her progress with Luthor Corp stalls before it can start.

Anything bearing her family’s name is dead in the water. She needs a fresh start. A fresh city, as far from the scene of Lex’s crimes as she can get.

If she can get far enough away, if she can make something good… it would be worth something.

The ache in her soul would mean something.

She chooses National City. There’s a vacuum to replace Lord Industries, and…

She’s ready to feel the sun on her skin.

“I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.”

Lena means it sincerely. There’s something so honest in the way Kara Danvers smiles at her. Without judgement, without guile… her gaze is open, and genuine.

When Kara not reporter Danvers nods, a little thrill blooms in Lena’s chest.

“I hope not either.”

They come together slowly, Lena and Kara. It starts with friendship, and stays there quite a while. It’s all Lena needs– it’s all Lena accepts.

But then it deepens into something more, and deepens further until it resolves itself into a true romantic relationship.

It’s not a betrayal, Lena tells herself. Kara already knows the worst parts of her, and it has nothing to do with her family. And Kara isn’t without her secret heartbreaks either.

There are times when Kara looks at her that her thoughts seem miles away, and Lena wonders if she too asks what she did to deserve this.

The infrequent notes that had started up again fall away again the closer she and Kara grow. Lena barely notices, for the warmth in her chest when Kara brings her lunch unannounced, or pouts until Lena agrees to game night.

She wishes that her soulmate finds a love as warm.

I’ve met someone.

The words come early one morning. She’s left a pot of coffee on for Kara, and is already at the office when the press of a pen tickles the inside of her arm.

Lately I’ve been thinking about what you said once, about soul mates. Two wholes that match.

Lena watches the words appear and fade, and waits for them to continue.

It makes more sense than two halves split apart. Because if I were a half I don’t think I could be as happy as I am now.

I don’t know if you’re still alive, but if you are

I’ll always be sorry we never got to meet, but she makes me so happy. I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as she makes me.

I think

I could spend the rest of my life with her.

With tears in her eyes, Lena watches the words fade. She’s happy for her soulmate– it’s what she’s wished for. But the finality hits home with a stab of pain.

Lena reaches for her pen, to prove to herself and her soulmate that she’s still alive, that she stills cares, that she still wants happiness for them.

Her phone interrupts her, buzzing with a text message from Kara.

“Dinner tonight?”

Lena responds with shaking fingers. “Of course. Meet up at yours.”

A heart emoji blinks onto her phone screen. “Love you.”

With a smile, Lena responds easily. “To the moon and back.”

She watches the indicator flip from sent to read, and something in her calms. When her skin prickles again, she’s more confident that she won’t break down in tears.

I think you’d like her. She’s a lot like how I imagined you might be.

The words blur, a bittersweet smile all that holds her welling tears at bay.

Her name is Lena.

The world stills.

Lena stares at her skin. Little by little, the pieces click together. She waits for more, to be disproved, for it to be a coincidence. But the words fade, and no more appears to replace them.

She completes her day of meetings, but she could have promised them all the Eiffel Tower for all she remembers of them. Her thoughts remain glued to her soul mate’s final message.

Lena leaves without shutting off her computer. She only remembers her phone because it’s still in her hand. She opens Kara’s unlocked door with it still clutched in her fist, and the hard case digging into her fingers is the only thing that keeps her grounded.

Kara smiles at the sight of her, before concern fills her gaze when she takes in Lena’s wide, stricken eyes.

“What happened? Is everything–”

“Can I borrow a pen?” Lena croaks.

Kara doesn’t expect that, and stutters in her quick response. “Okay, sure.” She hands one over, and Lena accepts it with shaking fingers. “Lena, what’s–”

She trails off, staring at her palm as Lena writes four simple words on her hand.

My name is Lena.

Shock freezes the air around them. Kara stares at the words already starting to fade, her eyes flickering to the pen in Lena’s hand.

“I don’t understand…”

“When you told me how your dad died in Metropolis, I– I knew you would never… everyone believed I had something to do with it, and I couldn’t bear for you to hate me too.”

Kara shakes her head. “But I’ve always believed in you…”

“I didn’t know it was you. Not until tonight. Kara, I– I’m so sorry. I tried to cut you out, so you could move on, find happiness with someone else, but… you found me anyway.”

Kara stares at the floor. She doesn’t say anything, and Lena endures it as long as she can before running out of hope.

“Please, Kara. Please say something.”

She doesn’t. Without lifting her head, Kara steps forward, wrapping her arms around around Lena’s waist while burying her face in the shoulder of her coat. Lena returns the hug with a sob, tears finally spilling over.

“I thought you were dead too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Kara sniffles. “I forgive you,” she murmurs. “But you’re not allowed to leave like that again. Okay?”

“Never.”

And that, Lena knows, is the honest truth.

Prompts are now CLOSED

#prompt fill #anon #supercorp #soulmate au #angst #happy ending #lena luthor #kara danvers #writing appears on each other's skin #because why *wouldn't* you use it as a secure instant messaging app?#canon adjacent #only a few liberties taken

364 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 6 years

Text

In Another Life Series: Chapter 3 - The Girl In Black

…in which Y/N’s first day at work is a mess, and Harry’s relationship is not any better.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, and assistant!y/n

Sorry for taking too long to update this series, Tumblr fucked me up and deleted half a chapter. It would be the last time I wrote directly on Tumblr I’m sure of it. I hope you guys enjoy this, questions are very welcomed. Paragraph in italic took place in the previous life.

Chapter 2 - The Assistant: Harry’s got a new assistant, and Y/N’s got a new job.

Y/N didn’t expect her first day at work to start with her head down the toilet. It must have been the milk she’d drunk earlier that morning, or maybe the microwaved dinner from last night. But it didn’t matter now, the important thing was that her famous boss, whom she’d never actually met before, was waiting in the recording studio, while she was throwing up in this bathroom stall.

With her head spinning in circle, however, Y/N could still make out a knock on the door.

“Hey, ya alright?”

She should’ve recognized that British voice because she’d spent the entire night before watching his interviews on Youtube to get to know him better. Nonetheless, in a situation like this her memory was helpless.

“I’m fine…Thanks.” Y/N groaned as she flushed the toilet before rising up from the floor, feeling a bit better but still quite unsure.

“Sir, I don’t think you should be in the ladies’ room,” she told the man on the other side of the door.

And to her surprise, he replied with a laugh. “That’s why I’m in the men’s room.”

Y/N’s bloodshot eyes grew wide the moment she heard those words. She pulled the door open in an instant, then almost fell backward when she found Harry Styles standing right in front of her. Harry gave the girl a friendly smile, yet when he opened his mouth to speak, she immediately turned away and got back down on her knees to empty her stomach in the toilet bowl.

In the haze, Y/N could feel Harry kneeling down by her side, gently holding her hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way. It was a lovely gesture, she supposed, but he still had no idea she was his new assistant.

And the only thing on Y/N’s mind at this very moment was, her first day of this job could also be her last.

...

The girl in black carefully followed the path leading through the dark woods, with only the light from her oil lantern guiding the way. She was heading home alone, like a shadow under the moonlight, trying not to make a sound as her heart was pounding like a drum.

The young maiden could’ve got home early that night as she was so close to her village already. However, it was one of her good habits that became her obstacle — she never walked away from someone in need.

“Hello?! Can anyone hear me? I’m trapped!”

Her feet rooted to the ground when she heard the cry for help. The girl already had her guards up, ready to fight for her life, but there was no one around! At first, she thought it was just her imagination, then the desperate call repeated, louder this time. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from a hole on the ground a few steps away from where she stood.

“Who’s there?” she asked, carefully approaching the victim. Holding up her lantern above the hollow to get a better look of whoever was down there. When the light flashed across the person’s face, the girl was so terrified that she backed away from the edge.

“Hello, thank God! Could you please get me out of here?” begged the hopeless young man as he looked up. But this girl knew for certain he wasn’t just a man.

“You’re...You’re the Prince!”

“You recognize me?” Prince Edward smiled widely as he put both hands on his hips and heaved out a sigh of relief. “Great! Now could you please help me out?”

“No.”

Her answer came as a shock to the heir of the throne.

“Pardon?” he raised an eyebrow for no one had ever talked to him that way beside his father - the King.

“I said: No. In fact, I’d let you die down there, so your awful father could learn how it feels to lose someone he loves,” she told him bitterly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of how he burnt down villages because of those rumors about witches. He murdered my entire family. And now you’ve got the audacity to beg for my help?”

“Hey, hey, hey, lady, I don’t know who you are but I swear I knew nothing about those villages. I’m truly sorry about your family, and if you could help me I’d pay you as much as you’d like.”

“I don’t think you could afford it, unless you knew how to resurrect the dead!” The girl turned to walk away, ignoring the young Prince’s pleading from down below. It was getting late and she’d got no time for a conversation with a dying man. However, something occurred to her when she was finally far enough to not hear his voice anymore.

If she left him there to die, she’d be just as bad as his father.

“Your Highness.”

Edward shot his face up and grinned widely when he saw the girl had returned. She rolled her eyes skyward then sighed heavily before laying out her bargain, “if I save your life, would you do me a favor?”

“Anything!” Edward spoke too soon, after that he realized how risky this agreement could turn out to be and quickly added, “wait, if you want to turn me against my father, then I’m sorry I cannot give you my word!”

What he said made the girl laugh, then she assured him, “you don’t have to betray your family or your country, I promise. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” Edward nodded his head in response to the stranger standing on the edge of the hollow, holding his life in the palm of her hand. Now he could only count on his own judgement that she wasn’t going to kill him once he got out of there.

...

“How is she?” Harry asked the doctor once the man walked out of the room but Y/N wasn’t with him.

“She’s going to be fine,” the middle-aged man said with a gentle smile, making Harry feel more at ease. “The girl got food poisoning, not very serious so I’ve already given her some pills. Let her stay here for an hour to see if she feels any better then she can go.”

“Thank you, doctor” replied Harry as he shook the doctor’s hand then watched the man walk away. He intended to go into the room to check on his new assistant immediately, but the moment he grabbed the doorknob, the phone in his pocket buzzed to notify him of a new text. It was from his manager Jeffrey.

Hey are you alright?

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he read the question.

I’m fine, I’m still at the hospital with Y/N. Why?

You haven’t seen the pictures?

What pictures?

Jeff left Harry’s latest message at seen so Harry had to find out on his own. He immediately went on social media (it’s sad how this was his first guess) and the first thing he saw was an article published by an online magazine with all the pictures of his girlfriend making out with another man.

Lillie Xander caught kissing a new man!!! Yikes! How does Harry Styles feel about this?

For that one second, Harry almost stopped breathing. He wished those photos hadn’t been real, that they’d been photoshopped and his girlfriend of two years hadn’t cheated on him. However, reality sucked, and he felt like a fool.

Harry was still staring at his phone when the door flew open all of a sudden and slammed with hard against his left arm! The girl behind it immediately mumbled her apology and she looked more frightened when she recognized who he was.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be lying down?” Harry asked Y/N while rubbing the sore spot on his arm, making his new assistant feel extremely guilty. Not only had she made him drive her all the way to the hospital and thrown up on his expensive jacket, but she also slammed him with the door. She was so in trouble after this.

“Am I fired?” she stared at him with her sad puppy dog eyes, and it took Harry a moment to take it in before he burst into laughter.

“You honestly thought I was going to fire you for being sick on your first day?”

“And for destroying your Gucci jacket and not being able to buy another one for you even if I sold myself.” She rolled her eyes backward and groaned out loud. “What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t get anything right.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Harry caught her by surprise when he grabbed her arms, holding her firmly place so she would look at his face.

Y/N turned to stone the very moment she made eye-contact with her new boss. Suddenly, everything started playing in slow-motion as she fell into the loop of his intense stare. Despite having already seen plenty photos of this man, Y/N was certain that wasn’t the reason why she found those green eyes of his so familiar. She had seen them somewhere else before she just couldn’t remember where exactly. It wasn’t just a feeling that ‘I met you once on the street but I remember you because you’re gorgeous’, it was more like ‘we don’t know each other but I feel like we have for a really long time.’

“Have we met?” Harry was the one to ask that question, and not Y/N, which shocked her even more when she fell out of the maze that was his eyes.

“I would’ve remembered, trust me,” she said, chuckling dryly as her eyes stayed on his.

“Weird...” Harry mumbled to himself, shaking his head then immediately put on a smile. “Well, don’t worry, you’re not fired, and I’m not mad at you for anything that’s happened this morning.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, Y/N knew that smile wasn’t sincere. There was something bothering this man and he was just so used covering up his emotions that he did it like a pro. He couldn’t fool her though.

However, she didn’t say anything about that, and just smiled back at him. “Thank you so much. I can’t lose another job again.”

“Again?” Harry looked at her, quite amused. “You’ve been fired before.”

“I wasn’t fired, I quit my last job...But I’m sure you’re not interested in my boring life stories.”

“I am interested,” he told her without pause. “Why don’t we go somewhere later and you tell me about that awful job that you quit? If we’re going to be working close to each other, we should get to know each other, right?”

“You sure? Because in the schedule Jeff sent me—”

“That’s my schedule, I can cancel any plan I want. Jeff’s my manager, not my boss.”

“But he’s mine.”

Harry chuckled while shaking his head no. “He’s not, I am. He can’t fire you unless I tell him too.”

“That’s powerful.” The words slipped out before Y/N can stop her lips. “Shit...did I just say that?”

Her face scrunched up in embarrassment when Harry let out a slight laugh. “It’s okay, I like you already. I think we’re gonna be a good team.”

“Hope so.” Y/N looked up as her eyes sparkled with joy. “Shall we go now?”

“No, the doctor told me to keep you here for an hour.”

“I’m fine now, just ignore the doctor.” She snorted then just walked right past Harry to the nearest exit.

He stayed at the same spot, watching her marching down the hall with his mouth agape, then when she noticed he wasn’t following her she stopped and turned around, looking all confused.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry!”

Harry snapped back to reality as he heard the sound of her voice. Then he shrugged off the foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach and ran forward to catch up with his new assistant.

#in another life series #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #boyfriend!harry #bestfriend!harry #prince!harry #soulmate!harry #assistant!y/n

413 notes · View notes

bucky-is-a-hero-fightme · 6 years

Text

In Your Heartbeat (5/16)

IN YOUR HEARTBEAT MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky/Reader, Natasha/Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2200 approx.

Summary: It has been over a year from being on the run, but for the first time, you are not running away. Trying to find clues on your past, your name and what it means to Hydra and their Ghost, you will stumble upon darker truths than you expected.

A/N: This is the start of the “Second Half” If you will, hence the change in header. Hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!

You cannot believe how little you knew about the system dictating yours and everyone else's lives until you forced yourself to dig into every bit of information, search on every crevice and contact every person that could know something.

You read on a long-forgotten experimentation facility on southern Italy about how stopping a person's heart and restarting it within a certain time period will allow the heartbeat to restart, forcing a nameless brand on the resurrected person's heart. You found out about the project to do so in the sixties, you found out about Hydra's plan to try it on the Black Widows.

You remember how your sister tried it on you.

You had to battle yourself for months, fighting against the desire to cling to your anger, your resentment towards her for what she did; but then, when you had spent too many months alone and running and tired, your search for the Winter Soldier's files.

And you understood why Natalia wanted to protect you. You understood why when she was presented with the choice between a possibility of you being happy and the certainty of you being safe, she chose your protection, your safety.

The notes on the surviving subjects of the new project to take soulmates away from people say that memories, even on people that have spent a lifetime alongside their other half, are quickly forgotten once the heart is restarted.

No intel on whether or not those memories come back, but be it because of your powers or the horrible, hilarious twist of fate the universe has set on you; they are.

You remember Natalia teaching you to read your heartbeat, sneaking around with a bunch of dots written on a piece of paper and coming back with a name written on it. A name that sounded too English for two girls raised knowing nothing more than the constricting borders of the USSR. A name that sparked something in your chest, a bit of hope and a bit of the good kind of fear everytime you thought of it, traced the letters, the beats, in your head.

You remember realizing the myths about how when one person on the side of the bond is under incredible pain or joy, the other one will be forced to watch, for bad or for worse in your case. You remember realizing that it was not a myth when they started trying the sensory deprivation chamber on the Ghost, and when a seventeen-year-old had to stand by and watch a man descend into insanity, only to be brought back from the edge, again and again and again.

You remember the way when one of those episodes happened, when the thin red knot tying you together tightened and you could feel that impotence, that helplessness and that pain for that part of you that you didn't recognize yet; there was only one word spoken on either side of the bond. Your name, the real one.

The one thing, your treacherous heart that is still too much the heart of a girl folding paper cranes reminds you, that they couldn't take away. The one thing, that name, that stuck for seventy years on the mind of a man that forgot his own.

But now you know it's only that: a name.

Just like his.

Just like the name that took everything from you. The name that forced months upon months of you trying to figure out who you really are, what being you means. Months of peeling mask upon mask off your face, never knowing if you would ever reach Y/N or if she had truly died decades ago, as Elena told the soldier.

The name that has meant nothing but pain, even after this long. The name you never wanted. The name that cursed you from the start.

You are scouting through a Croatian market when you hear the distinct sound that years of training and of watching over your shoulder had thought you to recognize: a gun's safety going off.

Trying to keep your calm, you pay for the small golden trinket you got to add to your collection of souvenirs, and take the first route into the center of the market.

But the woman that readied her gun follows you, and not too discreetly.

You close your eyes and follow the threads around your energy. It has gotten a lot easier in the last months, controlling your powers, focusing on yourself, than it was in over forty years of training. You like to believe you are becoming more of yourself and less of a mask, which makes finding yourself and your connection to time easier.

The strongest thread suggests there's more approaching, and they are going to flank you and drive you away from people if you try to veer towards your apartment in the city.

So, you decide to go for the thickest part of the street market, bustling with people at this time right before the sun starts to set.

Like you had predicted, two more men join the woman of the gun when you walk past the thickest part of the street market, but when you dive into the midst of people, reaching up to take off the brunette and blue wig, leaving behind the unnatural platinum blonde you dyed before parting ways with your sister, with the growing roots of your natural color, or what is left of it after years of changes and products.

With the security that they will hesitate, were they to find you, you take a nearly deserted street that leads to the apartment, checking once again over your shoulder to see if they are close by before you break into a run.

You hear the barked orders, the closely following footsteps as you reach the apartment, breaking in and throwing your things into a bag and taking the predicted escape route towards the train station.

You close your eyes, focusing on your powers as much as you can while still running through the labyrinthic streets of Pazin.

Footsteps on the perpendicular street, about to meet at the corner. Try to avoid them, a body falls from a nearby height, crushing you to the ground. The needle in your arm is the last thing you feel.

You shake your head, taking out your gun and readying it to shoot at the incoming man from the corner, all the while keeping close attention to the woman running across the low roofs of the buildings in the coastal part of the city.

The man appears, electric baton ready in hand, but two quick shots in his leg make him drop down, the woman falling to the ground from the roof, but your powers helping you avoid her.

She points the gun at you, dead eyes set on yours, and you do the same thing.

"You want me alive," You state, praying she doesn't hear the tremor in your voice. "I won't let you take me."

"I can make you," She smirks, pretending to advance, and managing to set you even more on edge as you try to keep an eye on both her and the man on the floor, to keep your mind on the situation at hand and the threads referring to each possible future.

You take a step back, "You can't. What do you want me for?"

"You are needed, girl. The miracles failed, is time to go back to good ol' weapons." She sing-songs, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. The soft way she rolls some consonants in her tongue should tell you of her lack of practice with English but, then again, you have seen Barton pretend to only speak ASL when captured so...you cannot trust your human distinctions, not in a world like yours.

You feel one of the threads grow stronger, brighter.

A man approaches from behind. Hand around your neck. Too easily, he beats you.

You have to force your fingers to release the white-knuckled grip they have on your backpack. Where you keep the files, the letters.

Where you keep the picture.

You drop it to the ground between your legs, and taking out the other handgun from the holster by your hip, you point it behind you blindly.

Staring directly at the leader, you snarl,

"Tell your dog to back off."

She merely laughs, in a raspy, mocking laugh that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. She lowers her gun, but you don't.

"You have gotten good, girl." She teases, and in what seems like a puff of smoke, she is standing right in front of you.

You shoot. One, two times.

But the bullets go through her like she is made of mist.

"What...?"

She smirks your way, taking out a picture from your backpack and pretending to study it. You can only stare at her with wide eyes.

"Nice picture, dolly," She lifts her eyes to yours, and only then you notice the way some sort of dark mist is swimming inside of them, like the red you saw in the new girl in the Avengers group. She presses her palm to your chest, over your heart, and leaves the picture pressed against your jacket. "Better give it back to its owner, pretty thing. It's never too late, is it?"

In another swirl of almost black mist, she is back where she was, a few feet away from you. Smirk still in place, you keep your back straight and your eyes on her as she holsters the weapon and signals for her men to retire. They do, the one at your back helping the wounded one up.

She turns around, leaving you dumbfounded, but only after taking a few steps away from you, she turns around and looks at you.

"Consider this a warning, little Romanova. Next time we call, you better answer."

You have been running for what feels like hours, the voice inside your head you haven't heard in years telling you to keep going, to never stop because they will find you again.

Your legs give out under you, too weak to hold you up any longer. You had lived without being hunted since Natasha joined Shield and Hydra had quietened. It had been years since you felt the threat not of death, but of capture.

One thing is to be in the other end of an enemy's gun barrel, and know for certain your end is to come. It is terrifying, of course, but it also comes with a certain sense of peace.

To be taken...you have been haunted since you were too young to remember what it was like not to be. Strangers took your sister, forced you to run away, but then they got you too, killing the small family that made the mistake of wanting you. They injected their concoctions into your body and hoped for the best, and you couldn't do anything but scream in pain because you were at their mercy.

Because they had beaten you. Because they had captured you.

And since you escaped with the serum running through your veins, you have known you will die before risking being taken again.

It’s when you are on the train, safely directed towards...you don’t even remember where, your belongings inside your bag and your heart rate returning to normal; that you take out the picture.

This is one thing you cannot afford to lose. It’s a reminder. A reminder of why you are risking your life for Intel, a reminder of the danger of a name, a reminder of why the Ghost will remain to be an enemy to you, no matter the circumstances, no matter the name he chooses for himself.

You run gentle fingers over the photograph. It’s old, maybe as old as the serum in your veins, although the smile on the girl’s picture is dimmer than those of the girls in Natalia’s pictures, so it is probably taken much after the night your sister stopped your heart, and took your memories.

But the smile, it is still yours. Your hair is not exactly the color your roots are taking now, judging by the shade in the sepia picture, but you recognize the shape of your nose, the shine in your eye.

But you turn the picture around, the picture found in a dark room on a forgotten facility, and you are reminded why you thread with care, why you are fighting to make your name your own again, and if not that, at least know who the person behind that name truly is.

Deep and uneven traces of the pen, as if the words had been pulled from a dying man’s throat, taint the back of the photograph.

Y/N. Y/N. Don’t forget that. Count the beats, don’t forget that. Y/N.

Taglist: @learisa , @lixbean , @quiessilva-meriff

Tell me if you wanna be added, and please leave a comment, or message/ask me to tell me your thoughts! Ly!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #natasha romanoff x reader #natalia romanova x reader #natasha romanoff #Natalia Romanova #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #fanfic #reader insert #marvel fic #bucky angst #bucky soulmate au #mcu #marvel

64 notes · View notes

dalekofchaos · 6 years

Text

What I love and hate About Moffat’s Doctor Who

Much like I did for RTD’s Era, I will be listing my What I love and hate about Moffat’s Doctor Who.

What I love

Eleven. Ten will forever be my Doctor but Eleven has a special place in my heart! I will always remember him in my heart, I will cherish the memories I had that he was The Eleventh Doctor, I will always remember his epic sense of fashion, his triumphs and sad moments, his eccentric childishness both as him and as a way to trick you and then you realize Eleven is truly terrifying. I will always remember Eleven as The Doctor!

Twelve. I love Twelve. He may have had some poorly written episodes given to him, but Capaldi still handled it like the professional he is. Twelve brought back the sternness of One and the dark manipulator of SevenI Capaldi’s ability to portray the extremes of human emotion make him, perhaps, one of the most skilled and diversely talented actors to take on the role. One of the most joyously mesmerising facets of Capaldi's interpretation of the role is the level of sincerity and gravitas with which he approaches every scene - it doesn't matter if the Doctor is being funny, Capaldi plays the Doctor with a sense of naturalism and realism which has breathed new life into the part. While Smith and Tennant each had a wonderful sense of humour in the role, Peter has taken the opportunity to play the straight-man when it comes to scenes involving a degree of comedy, making the Doctor all the more funny for it. I also love Twelve because I liked the fact that his sheer introduction brought back the idea that older actors (and now actresses) can play the character. Having been a lifelong fan himself, Capaldi would have accepted the role knowing full well that his life would never be the same again. Aside from this willing acceptance of the renown that comes with the role, Peter seems to be one of the warmest and most genuine actors to adopt the guise of the Time Lord. He regularly speaks warmly and at length of the entire history of the programme, not just the series since he joined. His knowledge and passion for the shown and it's fans is truly moving as Capaldi is regularly warm and inviting to those fans that speak to him in the street. Some actors can be somewhat short with their fans, especially if they're having a tough day, but Peter seems to be welcoming and charming regardless of the circumstances. In short, he's nothing shy of the perfect ambassador for the show. The Doctor was indeed in safe hands and we will miss Peter dearly.

Moments like The end scene of Vincent And The Doctor and Twelve’s brilliant anti-war speech in The Zygon Inversion.

Amy Pond and Rory Williams I loved Amy and Rory. Amy Pond is an incredibly layered, wonderful, and flawed character. She is brave and independent, she is scared of abandonment and commitment, she is rude and yet compassionate. She has a knack for creative problem-solving and can make connections other people can’t, whether it is realising the truth about the star whale or figuring out how to defeat the Weeping Angel.She has had a difficult life, but Amy is always changing and growing, as she holds onto the contradictory pieces that make up her own histoy. We watch her learn to love and to trust. We see her struggling with keeping up with both her travels with the Doctor and the normal life she comes to value. She experiences joy and loss and she just lives, passionately.What is so exceptional about Amy’s ending isn’t that she chooses Rory; she likely would have made the same choice two seasons earlier. But for the first time it feels like a decision that she can be happy with. Because she no longer is “the girl who waited” - and the Doctor didn’t keep her from growing up, he just became part of her story to get there. Rory is awesome. He’s one of my favorite companions ever, despite being on and off at times because of small things like being dead. Rory is smart, cool, actual husband material, and he keeps The Doctor humble. I adore their relationship. Amy and Rory loved each other. Their relationship is what made series 5 and 6 great. Beautiful soulmates and The Ponds are beautiful. I think my favorite part about the Eleventh Doctor, Amy, and Rory’s time together was the fact that most of the other companions in New Who were always talked down to. Not that the Doctor didn’t respect them. He did, immensely. But he was always the one to explain something, always the one looking smart, always the leader, always the one saving the day. But in the case with the Doctor, Amy, and Rory, the Ponds were the ones figuring things out and saving the day while the Doctor tripped as he tried to simultaneously put on a bowtie and eat a fishstick. And that’s beautiful.

Clara Oswald Clara Oswald is a perfectly ordinary sweet natured girl, who’s compassionate and caring, who has shown herself to be quite independent on several occasions, who takes care of children simply because she knows perfectly well what they are going through, and saved the Doctor on so many occasions just out of the goodness of her heart. Clara Oswald is a scared but very clever girl, who becomes very good at playing the most dangerous of situations to get advantage and gets addicted to that thrill. From the beginning, she parallels the Doctor, with her whole era basically being a female Doctor origin story.

Bill Potts. Bill was wonderful. Finally, a companion who is not a forced plot device, Bill is finally a companion who is special just because The Doctor considers her special cause she’s The Doctor’s friend. Bill is a proud gay woman of color. Her introduction is brilliant, hella adorkable, Has immense respect for the Doctor without ever defining herself around him like so many other companions, strong and stands up to him without ever seeming condescending or ‘you may be the Doctor but I know you better than you know yourself’ and all the slapping him. The Doctor and Bill have the healthiest Doctor/Companion dynamic. Has a clear inferiority complex but never takes it out on the people around her. Her first reaction to seeing depressed Heather is to sit down and ask her what’s wrong, because that’s what she feels is right. Basically so incredibly kind and selfless to everybody. I love Bill so much

The Paternoster Gang. Anytime Vastra, Jenny and Strax are on screen, it’s instantly gold. A trio of associates to the Time Lord who didn't have hokey origins or contrived resurrections. They emerged fully formed and unexplained; Vastra was a lizard serial killer, Jenny was her servant/lover and Drax made some funny jokes about not being able to understand human biology.

Missy Michelle Gomez was so deliciously and hammy evil. I loved every moment she was on screen, it’s a shame The Doctor Falls ruins it. In her first two appearances she was firmly established herself as a force to be reckoned with. Suffice to say, you wouldn't want to meet this renegade Time Lord in a dark alley. She'd sing "Oh Missy you're so fine" and then obliterate you on sight. After taking a selfie with you, of course. Plus Missy always looks her best when she’s ready to destroy the world! When she gets her lipstick out, you know that something rather unfavourable is about to hit the timey-wimey fan. Anyone can kill someone but it takes a special sort of person to do it with as much attitude as Missy. After all, if you're not going to zap someone to death looking your best, you might as well not do it at all. It's rule one, guys. Though I do wish they just called her The Master. If Moffat doesn’t think she couldn’t keep calling herself The Master, I’m pretty sure he’d rename Thirteen The Nurse.

Simm!Master’s glorious return! Simm!Master returned and it was perfect! It was both what the fans of Classic Master wanted and what Simm wanted. John Simm always wanted to play a dark and evil Master, it was RTD who wanted Simm to play a dancing and giggling lunatic who acted like Frank Gorshin’s Riddler on crack. Pure and utter hatred for The Doctor and no regard for anyone but himself. Absolutely glorious. It’s just a shame that Simm!Master will not return and an even bigger shame that the surprise of Simm!Master’s return was spoiled by the trailer and bad make up and inability to hide Simm’s voice.

The Guest episodes in RTD’s era and the new monsters. All the guest episodes are great. Moffat is good at writing monsters. Moffat is responsible for creating the best monsters in New Who. The Weeping Angels, The Empty Child, Vashtra Narada and The Silence were all good. The sad part is Moffat is good at writing guest episodes.

What I hate

Plots that go nowhere and abandoning established ideas for his plots and just making up as he goes along. Moffat tends to introduce plots and either never intends to go back or explain them or abandons them altogether. In series 5, it’s introduced that Th Alliance, a group of The Doctor’s worst enemies all worked together to put The Doctor in the Pandorica, who brought them altogether, when and how are they joined together and when are they gonna return? Never brought up again....Okay? When we all heard “Silence Will Fall” it gave us a sense of wanting more. And in the series 5 when River went to Amy’s house in The Pandorica part 1 ending, I saw Omega symbols everywhere. This led me to believe that Omega is tied into the cracks in the universe and The Silence and maybe we would see Omega in series 6 and maybe The Silence were created by Omega. It never happens. The Silence are a religious order. It STILL could’ve worked because there were STILL Omega symbols all over in A Good Man Goes To War. And once again, nothing, I don’t know if Omega was ever planned to return but something was dropped. Moving on. I thought that the reason why The Doctor’s name was shown to be this terrible thing in New Who is because The Doctor used his real name to Timelock The Time War and saying it would unleash The Time War on the universe and...his name is dropped like it’s nothing. The Silence with a flip of a hat decide to join The Doctor despite it being their goal to kill him because...reasons. So glad that was resolved so easily. How did The Doctor and Clara escape The Doctor’s timestream? Never addressed. John Hurt’s character. I always thought he was gonna be The Other considering the 50th was coming up and it might be the Cartmel Masterplan. He’s a Doctor between 8 and 9 and was the one who fought in the Time War? Okay. Okay when Missy started appearing and when she talked about Clara “I chose you well” I got the hint that who this big bad was, that she created Clara to use against The Doctor, this led me to believe that Missy was The Rani. “Oh she’s the Master, but instead of calling her The Master we call her Missy now”....kay? The Master chose their name like The Doctor, I’m pretty sure they would not change it because The Master changed genders, but whatever. The Hybrid. Something so horrible that The Doctor left Gallifrey “it was The Doctor and Clara” are you fucking kidding me? Oh it gets better, The Doctor doesn’t even care that he found Gallifrey, all he wanted was Clara back despite Clara being content with dying. No seriously you fucking asshole, you wasted my fucking time with either dropped storylines or shit you made up cause we all fucking know you did not know what you were doing.

River Song The issue with River Song is she is simply an awful character. River stokes The Doctor’s PTSD really bad. She is a character forced upon both the audience and The Doctor. River is a character who kills at the drop of the hat and makes a Dalek scream for mercy. Yeah, call me old fashioned but showing mercy to a Dalek is more compelling. She encourages The Doctor to kill, and reveres him as some untouchable genocidal god, and constantly pushes herself onto him sexually, even though he pulls away. River Song is Steven Moffat’s Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. And there’s the fact that River is predatory. If it was a male character constantly coming on to the much physically younger female character, and being naked and doing so despite being asked not to do that like.... people would have freaked out and called River out for being a predator and had a fit, but because she's an older female and he's a younger bodied male this is... somehow badass and empowered? Oh and let’s not forget the fact that River is somehow part Time Lord? Being born in the fucking TARDIS does not make you part Time Lord. Jesus fucking christ, JENNY is more Time Lord, at least that makes more sense. And the revelation that River is Amy and Rory’s daughter makes no sense. Rory was erased from existence. How can River still be their daughter if Rory died at that point? But moving on. I hate that she is used as a plot device. Oh, by the way she can fly the TARDIS, and oh by the way, she can flipping regenerate. I’m sorry, but River Song should, by NO means, be able to regenerate. She pops in to get the Doctor in and out of trouble and then disappears to who-knows-where/sometimes prison. And fixed points in time? Excuse me? No. I mean, really. That was absurd. Special rules do not apply to her. Moffat is just trying to make her look cool and I am not sacrificing good writing for image. River Song is a sociopath whose entire life revolves around The Doctor, there is not ONE SINGLE decision she has made for herself. She goes around with a gun, shooting things, causing genociide and we’re meant to believe the Doctor is actually ok with that? Giving her a gun does not make her a strong, independent woman. It makes her a sociopath with a gun. Her smugness annoys me to no end. Fucking spoilers. Fucking hello sweetie. Her sensuality is forced. She has no chemistry with Matt Smith. Her line in the wedding of River Song. I’ll suffer if I kill you-more than the entire universe-yes. How selfish can she get? She is constantly rubbing in her knowledge in not only the Doctor’s face but the companions. It’s like when Moffat took over he wanted to one up RTD so he made River who lets everyone know how awesome she is, how well she knows the doctor, how she can fly the Tardis so well (you turned the “handbrake” off, congratulations) She has no reactions to her parents dying. And finally she is meant to be this brainwashed sociopath who exists to kill the doctor and in the space of literally 30 seconds she changes her mind. A lifetime of brainwashing and trauma and pain and she gets over it in 30 seconds. Like I said, I shit you fucking not River Song is Moffat’s Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. And yes, the marriage. It was forced. The Doctor flat out states that he doesn’t want to marry her and she pressures him into it because it’s the only way she’ll let him touch her. If there is any kind of pressure, blackmail or abuse to get someone to marry another person, the marriage is forced. The Doctor was absolutely pressured into participating because not participating would’ve ended the universe. Here’s the difference between Rose Tyler and River Song. Rose Tyler was a character who existed and had a romance with the Doctor. There was NO love at first sight. it was not Predestined, or anything like that; it was just some crazy old alien being like “oi, you wanna go and see all of time and space?” and rose was all, “yeah, why not!” and they were BEST MATES FIRST. they were just two best mates flying around in their stolen TARDIS, having a laugh, and then when the Stakes Were Raised rose kind of went - oh fuck. i love him. and the doctor went - oh fuck. i love her. it was just a natural, mutual caring and it was just two nerds, both of whom would raise HELL for the safety of the other while saving the universe together. River Song was a character who existed TO have a romance with the Doctor. We are instantly told, not shown by the first meeting that River is important to The Doctor. Someone The Doctor would give his screwdriver to and tells her his name. And eventually they meet again and she kills and The Doctor is okay with it...for reasons. No one ever bats an eye that another genocide happens, but whatever. “Never be cruel or cowardly” apparently The Doctor overlooks why he chose his title when River is around. Honestly, The Doctor would never fall in love with someone who would risk THE ENTIRETY OF SPACE AND TIME because she didn’t want to kill him, i.e. river. he would NOT love someone like that, much less he would certainly not marry her because of it. Okay. Why is River the only one who knows The Doctor’s name? You might say that River does have a life outside The Doctor cause she’s an archaeologist, yes, but that is barely shown. What do we really know about River? Even though she’s not consistently characterized, we do see that she’s violent, crazy, arrogant, overly sexual, sassy, and even bossy. Not much is known about her that makes us actually love her except that we are supposed to love her because of the Doctor. If I could change River’s character, it would be this. River should have been like a future companion who was mentored by The Doctor. Like Seven mentored Ace. In which he becomes like a father to River. She is hateful to him at first because of the conditioning done to her by The Silence. The Doctor saves her from herself and makes her a better person and slowly mentors her, I kind of got that impression when she told Rory about herself in The Impossible Astronaut. I would have prefered a father/daughter relationship more than a romantic one. And River getting over trying to kill the doctor in just one episode (Let’s Kill Hitler) didn’t really take advantage of the weapon turned companion plot, and it was such a waste! It’s so frustrating how much potential there was there to really tell a story, and instead they just rushed it and made it into a nonsensical mess, rushed into a mystery and rushed into a forced romance. And we will never be free of River, as long as Moffat guest writes for Doctor Who, River will always be there. Even when she is being sent to her death, River Song’s presence is forced upon us in series 10 and no matter how much we want her to go away, River will never leave. Fuck Moffat for forcing River on us.

Moffat’s perception of The Doctor. Moffat sees The Doctor as this angsty vengeful authoritarian god. The Doctor is important because They are the one being trying to make a positive impact in the universe not because they’re a god/angel/cosmic authority/vengeful deity

The Doctor’s Name. Since when does the Doctor’s name matter so much? He chose his own name, Doctor, for a reason. It stands for everything he believes in. and that’s what matters, not his birth name, they weren’t gonna do the Carmel Masterplan, so it really doesn’t matter. Furthermore, how could the Doctor’s name bring about the end of the universe? I just…I don’t understand? I’m really trying to and I can’t, because it makes no sense. Before Steven Moffat took over, The Doctor wasn’t this prophesied space messiah that all the evil beings in the universe were hell-bent on destroying because they knew that his name had catastrophic properties. Never explained why and all mentions of why his real name is important is thrown away, thus once making something built up entirely pointless.

The Silence Genocide. Here’s the difference between how genocide is presented with the Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Doctors. The Ninth Doctor has the opportunity to destroy the Dalek Emperor’s fleet with the delta wave generator, but it would be at the cost of the humans and Jack on the game station. He couldn’t bring himself to commit genocide a second time, he would choose to be coward over a killer anyday. With Ten, he had no choice but to destroy the Racnoss and commit genocide, but he was ashamed of himself. The Silence had been on earth for thousands of years and had influenced human history and helped get humanity to the moon. One of them killed a human. The Doctor sanctioned a genocide of an entire race with a smile on his face and turned on by his psychopathic future forced wife(jesus I wish I was making this up) and the humans just go along with it, The Doctor might as well have just told Cletus to burn a cross on The Silence’s yard. What was The Silence’s crime exactly? furthering Man's achievements? I can only assume that no one knows about the killing of Joy in the toilets, but if the Doctor did its a bit harsh to wipe out a whole race because of the actions of one. I mean, holy shit we have a jail that is capable of holding aliens established in the beginning of the episode and apparently killing them all instead of holding them all away is preferable.

Apparently sexual assault is funny if a woman forces herself on a man. If someone forces themselves on you without your consent, it is assault. It happened with Amy(while she was on her way to being married), it happened with River, it happened with Clara, it happened with Tasha Lem, and it happened with Missy. It was not funny in absolutely any time, yet this immature fucking jackass always plays assault for laughs. If this were an older man forcing himself on a younger woman, there would be outrage. and the creepery of women who meet fully grown men as little girls falling hopelessly in love with that same grown man, usually throwing themselves at him and forcibly advancing on him. And him sexualizing them when they're adults when literally like 5 minutes ago for him they were children, it’s really vile.

Moffat’s inability to break the New Who companion formula with Clara. When we were first introduced to Oswin Oswald, I sincerely thought we were finally getting a new type of companion, FINALLY a companion from the future and not just another modern girl from the UK. Then Oswin was revealed to be a Dalek and she died. Sad but I thought she was a great character and I really wanted her to start traveling with The Doctor, Oswin and Eleven had great chemistry and unfortunately it was wasted potential. Next, we get Victorian Clara. Finally, a companion from the past. Her story was so great and once again good chemistry with Eleven and once again I wanted Victorian Clara to travel with The Doctor and she dies. What happens next? We are once again forced to have a “the companion must be special to travel with The Doctor plot device” and we have Clara Oswald from modern UK. Okay, fuck you. You complete and utter fucking moron. Not every goddamn companion needs to be from the modern UK. The Doctor has traveled with companions from the past, from the future and even aliens, hell, two of his companions were Cybermen. The Doctor traveling with a companion from the past or future works.

Moffat believes companions should only be female. Gee, it’s not like Ian Chesterton, Steven Taylor, Ben Jackson, Jamie McCrimmon, Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, Mike Yates, John Benton, Harry Sullivan Adric, Vislor Turlough, Mickey Smith, Captain Jack Harkness, Rory Williams and Danny Pink don’t exist or are important. Seriously fuck you, the male companions are just as important as the female companions.

Death always being teased but never executed upon and made ultimately pointless in the end. Rory has been dying in three fucking seasons until he actually dies in series 7. His death in series 5 was actually great. Then, when Amy and Rory ACTUALLY die in Series 7, it makes absolutely no sense and there are so many plot holes around it, it can be avoidable and The Doctor could simply just travel to a different part of the country in the TARDIS and just go back to New York on plane or car. Their death is completely avoidable and comes off as Moffat saying “He can’t save them because shut up” The Doctor let Amy and Rory go at the end of series 6. That is all you had to do. LET THEM GO, their deaths were avoidable and if you wanted to write them off, let them go. The most interesting Claras died and the last Clara died but was stupidly brought back despite the fact that Clara was content with dying. Ashildr had a great death protecting her people and of course deus ex machina technology makes her immortal. Even Heather, a girl from one episode had a good emotional death, is brought back in the finale. Bill Potts had possibly the worst possible fate. Bill was shot and everyone was shocked. Like damn, Bill is dying and the next thing we know is she is being converted into a Cybermen and who knows The Doctor is being forced to deal with the fact that he led his friend to a fate far worse than death. The emotional pain is there...and it’s ruined. Bill is fine and gets a happy ending like Clara and Ashildr. River is dead AND WE ARE STILL NOT FUCKING FREE FROM RIVER SONG! I don’t know why the fandom perceives Moffat as bad as George R.R. Martin, Moffat is a coward when it comes to death and never sticks with death, everyone HAS to come back and the deaths for every companion is undone and makes their deaths and sacrifice completely pointless. The reason Adric dying worked SO WELL is because he stayed dead and Adric’s death was a sacrifice and it worked. If Moffat was headwriter for Earthshock, I’m pretty damn sure he would find a way to undo Adric’s death. Death has no consequences in Moffat’s Who.

Until Bill Potts, every companion ALWAYS had to be special because the plot demanded it. Amy was “the girl who waited” River was River and Clara was “The Impossible Girl” no one could be special cause they are special to The Doctor, they had to be related to the plot

Day Of The Doctor was not celebrating 50 years of Doctor Who. It celebrated New Who and The Time War. It only celebrates The Time War and Moffat’s Who. It makes Not only that, it makes it black and white, it makes The Daleks the true evil of The Time War and erases the culpability of The Time Lords. Remember it wasn’t just the Daleks who were the cause of The War, it was The Time Lords themselves who started The Time War when they convinced Four to try and stop the Dalek creation in Genesis Of The Daleks, it’s very important to understand that it wasn’t black and white and make the Time Lords the innocent party. And Day Of The Doctor ignores that and ignores that Rassilon wanted to erase all life and make The Time Lords beings of higher consciousness at the cost of all life in the universe.

Mishandling The Time War itself. Throughout series 1-4 The Time War was built up as this horrible war that was so horrible that if it did not end, it would’ve destroyed life itself. The Time War NEEDED to be more than a generic Sci-Fi battle. in the novelization of the episode Rose,

The Time War was meant to be bigger and more horrifying.“this wasn’t a fight like laser guns and spaceships and explosions, this was a filthy, stinking war that changed reality itself.” Instead, it became a generic Sci-Fi action movie. Instead of the enormous time-traveling, inconceivable concept that was painted. The Time War prior to the 50th was something that we COULD NOT CONCEPTUALIZE because it was not fight like a normal war, it spanned galaxies and time. The true tragedy of it wasn’t that the Daleks were going to destroy Gallifrey or Arcadia, it was that THE DALEKS AND TIME LORDS BOTH WERE RIPPING THE UNIVERSE APART WITH THEIR WEAPONS. You cannot show that. So instead, we got shitty action movie explosions. When I got real interested about the Time War before series 6, a fan trailer showed a concept that The Daleks wanted to capture the Eye Of Harmony and insinuated that the Daleks went to war with the Time Lords to gain Gallifrey’s resources so they can gain mastery over space and time. That alone is more compelling than “Daleks just wanna exterminate the Time Lords” it was lazy writing, even more so by portraying the Time Lords as the innocent party. The Time Lords tried to get The Fourth Doctor to stop their creation and The Seventh Doctor manipulated Davros into destroying Skaro. There is no innocent Time Lords, retconning their actions throughout classic who and ignoring Rassilon and the High Council’s plans was complete and utter lazy writing. Rassilon and the High Council were as scary and menacing as the Time Lords from War Games and Rassilon was a fearsome genocidal demigod. Choosing to ignore that was seriously dumb. Let’s go over Moffat’s depiction of children of Gallifrey and how he portrays the Time Lords waging War. Ignoring the concept of looming is dumb. “children of Gallifrey” I was just so mad when I heard about this. looming made Time Lords more alien and it is an interesting portrayal of Time Lords being asexual. Ignoring that, the concept of Time Lord Children is really dumb, Time Lord children carry stuffed rabbits. Because Time Lords children = Human children. Oh wait. Then Moffat’s concept of how The Time Lords would wage war. Time Lord soldiers have helmets. Time Lord soldiers have helmets to protect them from the rubble. There is rubble. Things are burning. No, I mean things are literally burning. Things are burning because the Daleks are shooting ray guns and the Time Lords are shooting back using their super advanced … ray MACHINE guns!!!! Just to remind the audience, the Time Lords are a superior race with power over time itself. The Time Lord soldiers have walky-talkies. No really, they do. When Time Lords make art, they make it in 3 dimensions. When Time Lords make war, they make it in 3 dimensions. “Have you ever thought what it’s like to be wanderers in the Fourth Dimension?” Masters of time and you decide to make them have ray-guns? This isn’t the fucking Terminator. And also, it ignores the fact that The Doctor witnessed Gallifrey burned. The way The Time Lords were portrayed in DOTD, was just lazy.

Sonic Sunglasses. I believe that the sonic screwdriver needed a long break. It worked for Five-Seven so it would work for Twelve. I like the sonic screwdriver but I hate how they constantly made Ten and Eleven dependent on it and turned it from a time lord device that can open any door to a magic wand that can perform a deus ex machina. What happens instead of Twelve relying on his intelligence and wit? He gets a downgrade and gets himself Sonic Shades. It worked like the screwdriver, with a few added bells and whistles to justify this downgrade. One of the most noticeable problems with the glasses was that, unlike the screwdriver, their effects weren’t visible. Doctor Who is ordinarily a visual program that has always drawn attention to its colorful sci-fi/fantasy moments. Also, unlike the screwdriver they weren’t exclusive used by The Doctor, making them far less special. Clara, Ashildr and Osgood all donned the specs during the limited number of episodes in which they appeared. In series 10, the glasses committed their greatest sin. After the events in Oxygen rendered The Doctor blind, instead of having him deal with the extent of losing one’s vision, he popped on his magic glasses, thus cheapening the experience. While they didn’t restore his vision, the tech provided him with enough guidance to dramatically lessen the full extent of his blindness. Sadly, if the writers had allowed The Doctor to go 100% blind, the sheer vulnerability of such a powerful character could've made the Monk Trilogy a much stronger arc.

Hell Bent undid Clara’s sacrifice and made Day Of The Doctor completely pointless. Hell Bent STILL leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. All this mystery around The Hybrid and it was completely pointless. Gallifrey was completely wasted. We were given hope that The Doctor would see his home and his people again, but instead of The Doctor restoring Gallifrey, finding Susan, Romana, Leela and Ace again, Gallifrey is reduced to background noise and The Doctor doesn’t even care that he’s home. It was all just to bring back Clara. Clara was content on dying to save Rigsy. Clara paid for her mistakes by trying to emulate and be The Doctor. Heaven Sent was brilliant, it showed The Doctor trying to struggle without Clara, it was emotional and brilliant. Not only is her death undone and Gallifrey is reduced to background noises, Clara is rewarded by her actions by becoming a faux Doctor with a TARDIS and her own companion in Ashildr. This is the complete opposite of what should have happened. She gets rewarded for trying to become The Doctor when she shouldn’t be. She should be paying for it, that’s the whole point. Clara isn’t The Doctor, what makes her different is her primary strength and that’s why they need each other. Clara dying was the only good way to end this character and it ended up as a copout. It took her agency away and because Moffat could not let her go he had to bring her back, thus making Face The Raven and Day Of The Doctor completely pointless

Because Moffat STILL will not let River go, he has a portrait bigger than his own granddaughter’s Susan Foreman. There is no way within time and space that The Doctor will never believe River Song is more important than his own granddaughter. In my opinion, he should have picture frames of Rose, Jackie, Mickiem Jack, Martha and Donna, The Ponds and Clara along with Susan, but only River gets the big special picture. Fuck Moffat and his petty favoritism

Nardole For the majority of series 10, The Doctor was followed around by a cue-balled whiny crying cyborg known as Nardole. He first appeared in the 2015 Christmas episode with a purpose and then proceeded to just sort of hang out afterward with no discerning purpose. Then midway through series 10 in the episode Extremis, his purpose was explained. He was just a reminder that River Song is still there. We can’t be free of River no matter what and because of that we have to sit through this unbearable, annoying screaming robot. Kamelion is better than him and that should show you how bad Nardole is, but unlike Kamelion who had issues cause the robot malfunctioned and only lasted a few episodes, we suffered through the entirety of series 10 because of Nardole.

Bad make up and giving away Simm!Master in the teaser ruined the reveal. The series 10 trailer spoiled that John Simm would return as The Master at some point. However, since he didn’t appear in the first ten episodes, it became a given that’s he’d appear sometime during the two-part series finale. And while they might have been saving him for part two, it was likely they’d want to utilize him for the entire story arc. So with all that in mind, a character that looked and sounded like John Simm in heavy makeup appeared about 15 minutes into the penultimate episode, The World Enough and Time. Some viewers may have been as shocked as The Doctor and Missy were by the reveal, but it could’ve been handled better. Simm did his part by disguising his voice and mannerisms. Yet it feels like a lost opportunity with an easy enough fix, if anybody had cared. The whole thing could’ve been avoided by either not including The Master in the trailer, or by disguising Simm in even more makeup and prosthetics.

Ignoring Simm!Master’s character arc in End Of Time. I don’t like End Of Time for a majority of reasons, but even I understand that Simm!Master had an arc in End Of Time. Sure, he mostly wanted revenge for what Rassilon’s done to him, but he still saved The Doctor, he considered The Doctor’s offer and had a realization that maybe he doesn’t have to be bad. Simm!Master had sane moments in his insanity which all had in some way the Doctor involved, showing him listening, with tears in his eyes. And in The Doctor Falls, he is completely unchanged. Acts as if the character arc never happened, Simm!Master is sexist for no reason. Time Lords have no real concept of gender inequality. The Master had respect for Jo Grant, Nyssa, Tegan and Martha Jones and never harbored sexist attitude for them, he had ill feelings as an enemy, that’s it. Made to hate the Doctor so much he’d rather die than standing with him - Ignoring the fact that’s exactly what he did in The End of Time Part 2 and also the fact that the Master’s main goal over everything else was always his own survival. So he dies unredeemable, learns nothing, uncaring asshole, and completely disregards his character development in "The End of Time and all just to make Missy look good.

Missy had no reason for wanting to change and my annoyance at the name change. I don’t see or understand why Missy wanted to change. Obviously they are gonna give her a redemption story for...reasons. What are the reasons you might ask?...Shut up. Well, we obviously need her to fight her demons so why not give her absolutely no reason to want to change (except “I want my friend back” which apparently wasn’t enough reason for any other Master) I seriously do not understand why Missy would want to change. Missy/Master would want to fight a common foe with The Doctor and later betray The Doctor later and their game would go on as it always goes. Missy had no motivation, every chance The Doctor gave her, she always went back to her old ways. Missy’s “change” simply comes off as “let’s praise Missy She’s changed!! Why? Who cares. Motivation? Character development? Nuances? I can’t do that, I can only create a contrast between new and old so crass, everyone will see the change! Shut up and stop asking questions!” If Missy returns, I want them to stop calling her Missy. Call her The Master. The Master chose their name like The Doctor, I’m pretty sure they would not change it because The Master changed genders. You don’t just change that name. She can very well still call herself The Master, there is no reason why, they cannot call her The Master. Changing gender is not a reason to change the title The Master chose to be called as such as they believe they can rule and subjugate the universe. But The Master should at the very least return as a villain, despite the forced change.

The Daleks and Cybermen are misused and overpowered. The problem with the Daleks is that Moffat has no idea what he wants to do with them. This video explains it perfectly. When the Daleks returned in series 5, they returned with an awful new look but they are still the biggest threat in the universe and the emotional trauma and hatred with the Doctor is there. Then, The Daleks go away and nothing is done with them. In series 7, Asylum Of The Daleks they return. They are not treated like the unstoppable force they were once in Classic Who or in Davies’ Who or even in Victory Of The Daleks. They are instead treated like another monster of the week. It’s not a big deal for The Doctor to face them anymore, he doesn’t seem to have any kind of reaction to them still operating or prospering in the universe. So now with no explanation Skaro is apart of the universe again despite the fact that it was destroyed in Remembrance of the Daleks, there is a Dalek parliament, thousands of them exist, they have their own asylum(apparently the Daleks are too scared of their own malfunctioning Daleks) and they have death camps. Dalek death camps and The Doctor doesn’t care. Dalek death camps and The Doctor has no reaction to nor does he want to help anyone in the camps. While the execution of Evolution of The Daleks wasn’t very good, Dalek Sec was right that the purity of the Daleks would always destroy them in the end and must change if they are to survive, but that is no longer relevant. The tone of the Dalek appearances after Victory Of The Daleks shows their menace is no longer there. The Doctor goes from being enraged and consumed by grief by seeing The Daleks, to not feeling anything nor caring that the Daleks having death camps across the universe. The Rusty thing just didn’t work. The only thing that did work was the “you are a good Dalek” line. The Daleks have lost their menace and if The Doctor doesn’t care or show any fear or hatred towards them, then why should we as an audience care? As for the Cybermen. The problem is they are just the Cybus Cybermen with the symbol removed, the same monotone “DELETE” the only difference is they are too overpowered and well they are apparently Iron Man now thanks to the Nightmare In Silver all rocket boots and detachable limbs and superspeed. In Dark Water/Death in Heaven they are nothing but Missy’s slaves with no autonomy of their own rather than a true force to be feared. It hasn’t helped that more often than not, modern Doctor Who has repeatedly decided the only way to beat the Cybermen is to overwhelm them with the power of love, a trope the show falls back on far too often. What made the Cybermen scary in Classic Who is when they were first envisioned, they were meant to be a chilling extrapolation of what creators Dr. Kit Pedler and Gerry Davis saw as the future of prosthetics and cosmetic surgery, humankind chopping bits of itself until what was left was more machine than man. Only their very first incarnation, the Mondasian Cybermen has ever tangibly captured the gruesome, tragic roots that sit at the heart of the concept behind them as monsters. Tomb Of The Cybermen also showed them as a true threatening monstrosities. So when the Mondasian Cybermen do return, Bill is converted and what happens? Bill retains consciousness and apparently it’s not enough to have the Mondasian Cybermen, Moffat just HAS to bring back his overpowered Iron Man knock off Cybermen. No true and utterly terrifying new designs, just the overpowered Metallic Gary Stu Iron Man Cybus Cybermen. So as usual Moffat has a genius idea and manages to ruin it in the end.

Moffat’’s sexist garbage ruined The First Doctor in Twice Upon A Time. I have seen EVERY First Doctor serial and One is not sexist at all. I get it, the sixties were a different time, Since the First Doctor was of that era, he wanted the audience to laugh at how different things were back then. Especially with the constantly horrified reactions of Twelve at his former’s self’s behavior. So what’s the problem? Short answer, it’s because the First Doctor wasn’t like that. Not even remotely. And this is the story that takes place before One’s regeneration, apparently Moffat doesn’t care about all the character development One went through with Ian and Barbara, he just wanted bad humor that goes against One’s character just so he can appear as the better party “see? My Doctor is better than Classic Who” no, asshole, The First Doctor was not at all like that One wasn’t a walking ball of sexism, he was a curmudgeonly grumpy old space grandpa who lightened up with his first human contact, grew warmer and closer to them and learned to help rather than… eh.. smash people’s skulls with rocks.

The real problem with Moffat is that Moffat is a good writer, capable of being a great one at times, but a terrible showrunner. Steven Moffat was a man who in the beginning had some marvelous ideas, and much like another BBC writer Terry Nation. When writing scripts once or twice a year were completely brilliant, but when stretched to almost write an entire series single handed, the outcome suffered. Doctor Who used to be a show full of heart, courage, emotion, character driven, cared more about the heart of the show and character than the concept of the over-complicated plot that will eventually be dropped at the end of the series. And honestly sometimes Moffat’s fans sound like Rick And Morty fans “To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Moffat’s Doctor Who." that’s what most of y'all sound like. After watching the teaser for series 11, I am finally really excited for Doctor Who. It feels like everything it used to be, everything that made Classic and Davies’ Who great. 13 and her new friends I cannot wait and finally it feels like Doctor Who

#Doctor Who #New Who #Anti Moffat #Anti River Song #Eleventh Doctor #Twelfth Doctor #Amy Pond #Rory Williams #Clara Oswald #Missy #Simm!Master #First Doctor #Bill Potts

23 notes · View notes

littlelonghairedoutlawllho · 6 years

Text

2017 Fics

In the next 15 minutes, it will be the New Year on this side of the Atlantic. And so, I have compiled this list of all of the fics I have posted or partially posted this year. There are a total of 57 fics: 1 is Doctor Who, 1 is The Scarlet Pimpernel, and the remaining 55 are all PotO of one description or anything. In total, there are 191,575 words (though 112,331 words of that are all in Wraiths). I’ve broken the list up by fandom and by ship.

Please reblog, and if anyone finds something that they think sounds interesting, please please do check it out and leave a review.

These are only the fics posted to the fanfic sites. Any fics posted just to Tumblr will make it to the sites sometimes in 2018. Links are all in the titles and all for FFN. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can find all of the below on my works page here.

Happy (in advance) New Year, and here’s to more fic-writing in 2018!

Doctor Who

Pity, the Stars - The Doctor stares at a burning, hologram sky, and wishes for stars.

The Scarlet Pimpernel

In Your Arms - Percy and Marguerite are intimate on the yacht at the end. (Based on 1982 film)

Phantom of the Opera

Wraiths of Wandering - France 1917. Christine de Chagny is in Paris with her husband and younger children. When the city falls still, she hears the distant rumble of the Front. Her firstborn, Erik "Konstin" Daaé, is a Commandant in the French Army, serving alongside his dear friend Antoine. In the wake of shellfire and bullets, there is so much love and too much pain, and a dark shadow with glowing eyes. (E/C, R/C, Philippe/Sorelli)

Erik/Christine

Basorexia - Erik lies heavy in Christine's arms, and though he longs to kiss her, he has not the energy to move. (Rated for referenced drug use)

Christmas Eve Encounter - While in the supermarket on Christmas Eve, Christine meets her old lover, and it reinforces all of her love for her husband. Modern AU.

Cocoon of Comfort - Sometimes, when Erik has nightmares, Christine is there and she'll look after him.

Duende - Christine and Erik are both drawn to each other, though neither can wholly understand why.

Etched with Tears - Christine returns to Erik earlier than she was supposed to, and they are together for five months before his death. Afterwards, she must try to put herself back together, and deal with some unexpected news. Also starring Nadir, Darius, Raoul, and Sorelli. (Kay!verse AU)

Fragmentations - 2 - Accidental Whiskey - Erik accidentally gives Christine tea laced with whiskey

Fragmentations - 4 - Invitation - Christine’s thoughts after she meets Erik for the first time, pre-Time to Share Our Love

Fragmentations - 7 - A Study in Mannerisms - Christine studies her husband, in a ‘verse where he is played by Peter Capaldi

Fragmentations - 9 - Awake My Soul - Erik tears the house apart in Christine’s absence.

Her Touch - Erik was in pain, but Christine massaged it away, and her arms around him are all he knows.

How it Ends - Modern AU. Erik is hospitalized and seriously ill, and with the help of the hospital chaplain, Christine marries him while she still has the chance.

Imprinted Masquerade - As Erik sleeps beside her, Christine contemplates his collection of tattoos. (Rating for reference to past drug use)

In Her Arms - Erik and Christine, holding each other close. He is overwhelmed by her love for him, and she is infinitely gentle.

In the Stacks - Modern AU. Christine is a librarian attentive to her work, and so she notices when sections of books start disappearing at night then mysteriously re-appearing weeks later. One night, she decides to confront the mysterious borrower.

Laughter in Restraint - Christine contemplates Erik, and the nature of his laugh.

Lessons in Courting - The Daroga struggles to coach Erik in the matter of courting. Later, Christine asks him about it.

On the Brink - Erik gets shot and is badly wounded, but the presence of Christine is a comfort to him.

Peaceful, Tender, Moments - Erik joins Christine in her dressing room after she performs, as is his tradition, and she knows what to expect at these times. (Rated for references to drug use.) (E/C)

Peace In the Night - Christine nurses her daughter, and considers her face.

Permission of Intimacy - They have been married for four months, and still Erik asks for Christine's permission when he wishes to be intimate. (NSFW)

Sainte Nuit - Erik has been dead for more than a year, and this is the first Christmas Eve that Christine has with her baby son.

Street Kisses - Christine surprises Erik with a kiss as they walk down the street at night. Second-Place for the Phantom's Valentine One-Shot Contest

Tender is a Kiss - Christine Daaé is a chorus girl at the Palais Garnier. Erik Delacroix is a composer and conductor of the Garnier orchestra. When he hears her singing to herself he is spellbound, and decides to give her lessons, if she will accept. She agrees, and slowly lessons turn to friendship turn to love.

Time to Share Our Love - When Christine and Erik first met, a timer appeared on their wrist counting down to the moment they would lose each other. Now they lie in bed beside each other, and there is only a week left

Raoul/Christine

Decorations, Secrets, and Forgiveness - Modern AU. Christine and Raoul have had a fight, but they still need to decorate for Christmas, and Christine is keeping a secret that she will only tell when Christmas morning comes.

Pharoga

Baisemain - Rahim soothes an anxious Erik at the premiere of his new opera. (Flashes!verse Pharoga)

Champagne, Kisses, and More - Erik and the Daroga are celebrating the tenth anniversary of the night they got together, and kissing leads to much more. (NSFW)

Earth That Grounds You - When Erik has nightmares, Rahim will soothe him.

Flashes of a Lifetime Together - The Daroga, and Erik, and a lifetime of falling together and falling apart.

Fragmentations - 3 - Skywriting - Erik proposes to Karim (the Daroga) in a dramatic fashion. Modern AU.

Fragmentations - 6 - Morning Light - Flashes ‘verse. Erik wakes and contemplates all that has changed thanks to the man lying beside him.

Fragmentations - 11 - Reflections - Post-Kay Pharoga AU. Nadir considers Erik’s addiction.

Memories, Whispers, Murmurs - Erik struggles with morphine withdrawal and Nadir is there to take care of him. Post-Kay AU

Starlight - The Daroga wakes, and in the starlight contemplates Erik sleeping next to him.

Tarantism - Erik can't sleep because he can feel the melancholia coming on, so he asks Rahim to dance with him. (Flashes!verse Pharoga)

Vigil - In Persia, Nadir tends to a gravely injured Erik, and remembers and worries and prays. Erik drifts caught between the worlds of waking and unconsciousness.

Philippe/Sorelli

Anagapesis - La Sorelli contemplates how her feelings have changed for Comte Philippe.

As if From the Dead, Resurrected - They told Sorelli that Philippe had drowned. But here he is standing before her.

Heart Gets Torn - Sorelli struggles to cope after Philippe's death, and contemplates their time together.

Standing Arrangement - They have an agreement whereby he meets her in her dressing room after her performances. And what happens there is only between them. (NSFW)

Could be two ships

Cagamosis - Christine contemplates her marriage to Raoul, post Kay!canon

Famous Last Words - A person is born with the last words their soulmate will ever speak to them tattooed on their arm. Christine Daaé has words written on both of her arms.

Friendship

After the Funeral - Christine and the Daroga drink tea after burying Erik.

And Peace At the Last - Nadir takes care of Erik at his death. Kay AU.

Concilliabule - The Daroga and Christine meet, because something must be done about Erik. (Rated for reference to Drug Use)

Fragmentations - 10 - Explanations - Teenage Madame Giry awkwardly attempts to explain a couple being intimate to a young Erik.

Gift - Christmas is coming and Christine feels she should get a gift for the Angel of Music.

To Walk in the Park on Sunday - Not long after burying Erik, Christine goes for a walk and is joined by someone unexpected.

Other

Fragmentations - 1 - Babysitting Duties - Raoul babysits a very young Konstin from Wraiths of Wandering

Fragmentations - 5 - Realisation - A short romantic prequel to Wraiths of Wandering starring Konstin and Antoine

Fragmentations - 8 - Laid Bare - If Erik slipped during the ALW unmasking.

Nearer to Thee - He is not who they think he is, a muddle of stories and lies, wrapped in an opera cloak and mask that are not his own but could be. But Charles de Chagny, all of 22 years old, craves to be closer to that past which is out of his reach. (Post Kay canon)

Ten Million Other Worlds - There are many different worlds, all existing simultaneously, and in each world the end result is different. (Multiverse. Includes Pharoga, E/C, R/C, Philippe/Sorelli, Christine/Sorelli)

#phantom of the opera #doctor who #the scarlet pimpernel #fanfiction

81 notes · View notes

gyromitra-esculenta · 6 years

Text

Crackverse 10: How Harry Met Sa... Part 1

This is a trip down the memory lane. Pretty much the ‘how the hell did they get together?’ and a part of ‘why are there that many Smurfs references in this whole fic?’. Sadly, there are no ugly-ass sweaters this time. The second part will include ‘there was only one bed *gasp*’.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3Part 4 Part 5Part 6 Part 7 Xmas New Year Part 8 Soulmate AU Part 9

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love.

To say that Gabriel was utterly unimpressed with Jack Morrison upon their first meeting was an understatement. The man was big, blonde, blue-eyed, had well-pronounced cheekbones and a chin you could cut yourself on, and in general appeared as if he just walked out of White Power rally, or maybe even worse, stepped out of Wehrmacht propaganda where he had been used as an example of a perfect Aryan. His carefree cockiness also radiated the textbook case of jock, whose idea of a fun night out was cow tipping. And then, the blonde wasn’t even his type, he preferred them a bit shorter and quieter.

However, not unlike the Autobots, there was much more going under that hood than met the eye.

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd.

One of the first qualities that could be observed about Jack Morrison was his apparent death wish. No matter the circumstances, be it sparring, training, or war games, the man was like a rabid wolverine. Literally. Or a rabid honey badger because ratels were scary as shit on their own, but add to that rabies…

Which was many roundabout words to describe the fact that the blonde would take on someone twice his size without looking back, might die fighting his opponent, but, sure as hell, he was taking said opponent down with him. And then he would seemingly resurrect like in those documentaries, all with that demented toothy smile of his plastered on his bloodied lips. And Gabriel was not beyond appreciating that kind of dedication (or craziness).

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd who not only watched old cartoons – he relaxed with Animal Planet on.

Another characteristic of Jack Morrison was not letting any kind of bullshit fly by him, which more often than not ended with a brawl.

“That fucking filthy chink,” Beckson muttered one day in the gym, loud enough for everyone to hear. Jack only smiled that deranged smile of his and put the water bottle down on the bench. Then he almost flew at the man.

Later, with tissue paper stuffed up his nose, still smiling, Jack shrugged at Gabriel’s question of what the fuck was wrong with him.

“I’m not fucking going to let the motherfucker insult my siblings, am I?”

Somehow, Gabriel thought the grin accompanying the blonde’s answer was, in fact, a teeny bit attractive. He pegged it as cabin fever.

All of the above made Jack Morrison tolerable, but not someone you would spend your time with or talk to. Until the Smurfs Incident.

“What the fuck are you watching? Are those fucking Smurfs?” Gabriel sighed, exasperated, ready to either tell Jack to kindly fuck off or to make up some lame excuse. “Wow, and that’s the shitty racist episode. You know they were fucking black in the original version?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel grunted when Jack wriggled himself onto the bunk to sit by his side and elbowed him to move the screen so he could watch too. “How do you even know that?”

“Hyung was fucking obsessed with this shit, had to dress up for fucking Halloween, twice as Gargamel and once as fucking Smurfette.” Gabriel snorted trying to imagine Jack in a white skirt. “What? I think I made a fucking fine Smurfette!”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“I’ll get Ma to send me some. Ha, get them, Azrael!”

It got the ball rolling. In the end, they were both kind of nerdy, although each in his own way.

Thing was, Ma and Pa Morrison were the God-fearing sort, Catholics, and firmly believed in procreation and populating the God-given Earth, so Jack was the middle child out of ten total, with four sisters and five brothers – all nine of them adopted.

Gabriel didn’t even try to remember the names the blonde gleefully rattled off showing him the pictures, especially since few of them sounded like something nigh unpronounceable. And yes, he had to concede Jack made a damn fine Smurfette, especially considering he had shaved his legs for the occasion. Though, a definitely manly Smurfette.

“Oh my fucking god, that fucking itched like shit regrowing, should have gone with fucking stockings,” the blonde groaned when Gabriel just tapped his finger on the aforementioned photographic evidence. “It got me five beers and a fucking date, on a positive note. And a shit-ton of sweets to divide later.”

“Dated a cheerleader?” Gabriel swiped to another photo where the blonde posed with a trophy. Jack, for a brief moment, looked maybe a bit angry, but then just shrugged.

“Arsehole. Yeah, I did. Went to prom, fucked under the bleachers, almost gave him a shiner week later when he fucking broke up with me because he had said he fucking felt he was obliged to give me a pity fuck before.”

Right. Gabriel knew a thing or two about computers, and it helped the school had no security to speak of. The yearbook had a page titled ‘The Kings of the Prom’.

He was in deep shit now.

With the restricted access to the outside world and a very shallow dating pool - not to mention close living quarters that made tempers run short - it was almost inevitable, Gabriel surmised in retrospect, that he had developed a bit of infatuation. The first time it happened, he had been cussing Jack out for keeping his boot-clad feet on the bunk.

“My fucking ass is not moving from the fucking bed,” Jack shot back while turning another page of a worn out book. Gabriel added what he would do to that ass under his breath in Spanish, and froze when he had realized what exactly left his mouth. Thanks to whatever deity that decided to listen, Jack casually looked up at him. “Yeah, fuck you and your little dog too.”

The second time it happened was during sparring when he had finally gotten the upper hand on Jack. The blonde narrowed his eyes, snarled something incomprehensible back, and then used Gabriel’s confusion to twist and elbow him hard just below the ribs.

“Puto!”

“Skurwysyn!”

“Vodka!” Someone called from the benches, laughing.

After that, it became a casual thing with Jack obviously not understanding a word except some most common profanities and answering in kind. Gabriel wasn’t really proud of that, but hey, it helped to relieve some tension.

It all came to a screeching halt two months later when a new supervisor was inducted into the program. The woman, almost unnaturally tall and lanky, with a skin nearly glowing with a shade of violet and raised decorative lines of scars on her forehead, was waiting for them just outside of the showers.

“Mister Morrison.” Jack stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his expression somewhere between pure shock and utter terror. “I get invited to evaluate and supervise the super secret enhancement program and while reviewing the personnel files who do I see enrolled?”

“Achan!” The blonde lost one of his flip-flops when he launched himself at her, engulfing her in a hug.

“Hello, little brother.” Well, Gabriel did comment on that. The little part, not the brother thing. “And here, Ma and Pa are thinking you are doing top secret ranger missions.”

“Oh, fuck, you aren’t going to snitch?”

“And what? Tell them their boy might drop dead any moment because of complex chemicals pumped into his body as opposed to being shred to bits by omnics?”

“Fucking touché,” Jack released her, laughing. “So I won’t fucking snitch you’re not working on your fucking grant, sis.”

“It was enough you weren’t home for Christmas, Jack.” The blonde groaned. “You are coming back for Easter, and, as a gift for the whole family, you can bring your friend.” Achan poked his forehead and Jack tsked, looking back for a second.

“That’s not really fucking good idea, sis. They’re going to start getting fucking ideas.”

Well, Gabriel had some choice words about fucking but seeing Achan’s brows rise made him realize that maybe, maybe, he had made a grave tactical error.

“I’m going to look the other way now,” the new supervisor smirked at Jack as if she were daring him to say ‘hold my beer’. The blonde shuffled on his feet and then turned around rapidly. The punch was solid, but not undeserved, Gabriel admitted to himself from the floor. Jack loomed over him.

“You want to tap that fucking ass, fucking ask.”

Well, it was definitely not his most shining moment. Honestly, it was as far as it got from the most shining moment. It topped even vomiting blood at three-months mark into the program. Gabriel resigned to it and went with the flow.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Sure, why not?” Jack shrugged. “Coming for Easter?”

“Possibly.”

“And call me a butterfly again and you’ll need a proctologist to get that boot outta your arse.”

“I hope this is the last time I’m playing your wingman, little brother.”

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love. The revelation had not been welcome. He urgently hoped it would pass soon. It still didn’t make the rest of the day any less awkward than it was already.

2 notes · View notes

xandriaxmonjeau-blog · 6 years

Text

was that ( olivia wilde)? no, it’s just ( xandria monjeau). they are the ( 33) year old ( witch ). i heard they’re (charismatic and intelligent) but also ( manipulative and vengeful). rumor has it they ( haven’t ) pledged allegiance to the hollow. i must warn you, neutrality is not an option.

⚜ So as promised, a proper intro for Xandria Monjeau! ⚜

She’s a pretty powerful witch from Paris, France and she also happens to be the current Head Regent of The Levesque Covens which form the 8 family witch covens of Paris & the 4 family witch covens of Marseille, Strasbourg, Bordeaux and Manosque.(yep, the last place we all saw elijah in the S4 finale ;))

Her real name is actually Antoinette Labeau, but that is currently a secret from everyone here including her status as a French Regent Witch.

She's the slightly older half-sister of Kaleb Westphall, which is actually a very highly wc of mine for her XD I'll have to keep her family history a lil vague for now incase anyone picks up Kaleb in the future, but the main gist of what I have now is thatt, she's from a very old-standing, powerful & very wealthy Witch family with the surname of Labeau in Paris. The Labeau family coven, is a part of this large & powerful ring of French witch covens called "The Levesque Covens".

Her dad had an affair with Kaleb's mom, which resulted in Kaleb and despite circumstances, somehow, those two kinda grow up very close to each other, having no other siblings and she cared for him greatly & loved him sm as if he was her full-blood brother and vice versa i think on kaleb's part. So you can imagine how utterly devastated she was when she learned of his horrible death in the hands of Finn and inadvertently due to the doings of the whole Mikaelson family. So her foremost rage and hatred is on Finn, and Kol and Esther ofc, the latter two for using Kaleb's body and dragging him into this mess of stuff in the first place.So her main point of her masterplan for vengeance and revenge is Kol, Esther and Finn as her top 3 targets respectively. And then seeing as the Mikaelson's have done nothing but make things worse for so many innocent families in the past due to many different reasons/circumstances, she's probably now trying to harness a plan to get rid of the whole lot of them if possible.

She was originally a pretty decently powerful witch with a positive, quite compassionate and bright outlook on life, besides some other traits, and a pretty normal character with no big aims/ plans at being evil, but Kaleb's death and the circumstances surrounding it, was what changed her almost completely to a worse side she never knew really existed much in the 1st place and she became rather dark, a lil twisted as her main outlook on life now is to bring hellish suffering & pain on those who have wronged Kaleb in order to avenge him & she also became a v highly ambitious woman.

For the past 9 years eversince his death, she's worked over-zealously hard at honing all of her witch skills to the best of her abilities, mastering as many powers and learning many useful stuff and even turning into some dark magic for assistance. By now, she has earned her way as being a highly respected and rightful regent leader of The Levesque Covens.

Eversince Kaleb’s death , she had established secret connections in NOLA who has been keeping tabs on the Mikaelson's doings and reporting to her very often. Thus, they told her about the Hollow shit that went down with the Mikaelsons and they spied Elijah, going to the clearing in the woods with Marcel and eavesdropped on Elijah's compulsion plan. So after she got the news abt that, she delightedly considered that to be her big break at finally executing her vengeance plan and perfectly vulnerable Elijah at that time was her perfect way in to worm her way into the Mikaelsons. So she sorta told her connections to knock him out with a very powerful spell and thus she kidnapped him over to Manosque, France and perfected a whole scenario of him waking up in a ditch or something, so she "found him" and saved that poor amnesiac man. And ofc according to J’s backstory for ‘Elliot Monjeau’ -He had things with the E.M on it so she called him Elliot, told him he grew up in the country, that his parents were vineyard owners who died when he had an accident. He hit his head and had a brain injury, hence the memory loss and soon after he died, with vampire blood in his system cos a vampire got to him immediately after the accident while he was still half-alive but fatally injured. ;)

But then, this is when shit gt more intense and wicked on her part, Xandria also at the same time, placed a very heavy dark hex on that poor vulnerable Elijah and fed him a big fat lie which was that he was her "husband" and they have a "son" (okie, so the boy is actually Kaleb's kid which was born after he died and the birth mom died at chidbirth too, so Xandria ofc v lovingly took him in and adopted him as her own son, and nvr told anyone else outside, her immediate family members that he was actually her half-nephew). She then placed a few fake memories of him falling in love with her, them having a 8 year old kid and they are pretty moderately rich family living in Manosque. She was careful to only PLACED A FEW FAKE MEMORIES, so that her story would tally with him having amnesia as a result from that "accident". Thus, over the past 3 years, ‘Elliot’ tried to "reconnect with his wife" but the most he got, was just caring about her a lot since she seemed to be a warm, nice and outgoing and good person & 'seemed to have a hella lot of patience for putting up with him not really remembering her much' And he ofc doesn't romantically love her as his heart will forever be with Hayley, his soulmate. But he does fall a little for the innocent "son" of his, who Xandria is also manipulating ever since having Elijah, as she also placed a powerful spell on that poor kid and altered his memories to include Elijah as his 'dad". Xandria really loves the boy and would die for him(so he’s her most vulnerable spot rn) , but eh, as u can see her brain is a lil twisted now due to being blinded with rage, hatred and vengeance for Kaleb, so she'll stop at nothing to succeed in her plans. Hence, her wrong mistake of tampering with the kid's memories *facepalm*.

Some months ago "being the hopelessy devoted loving wife" that she is, she suggested that "Elliot" do a renewal of marriage vows with her so as to maybe re-spark his "romantic feelings for her". He agreed cos he felt kinda guilty that he can't really remember his "loving family" that well. Thru that legal ceremony, she secretly and craftily placed a v dark binding spell, that links his life with hers in a way that if she dies, Elijah would too and with no hope of being resurrected. Oh and she lets him roam about to play his fav hobby of being a pianist and travel a bit here and there for small periods of time once in a while, as being "the supportive wife" she wants ‘Elliot’ to go find himself again and enjoy himself. (but she ofc has a spy or two following him in secret wherever he goes) So that's how he landed up in NOLA all these past few weeks without her at first.

And she has now arrived a lil too late, as his memories are back and he is "Elliot" no longer, so her gig is up in front of Elijah, who will ofc be demanding a furious explanation, but she'll just manipulatively smile and tell him of the linking spell behind their legal marriage ceremony, so he is legally her husband and ofc, he wouldn't want to dissapoint "their son"who misses his "dad" very much" and YES, DIS BITCH, DID BRING THE POOR BOY ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE xD

Elijah up till now, has no zero clue on her real identity as Regent Witch of the Levesque Covens or that her real name is actually Antoinette Labeau.so ofc he doesn't knw what her evil motives and reasons are for messing with him and his brain for the past 3 years. For the past 3 years, all she told him that she was a normal half-human, half witch named Xandria who became a “Monjeau” when she married him (Elliot) & who doesn't really like to tap into her witch heritage and is leading a normal human life with her son.

But now since Elijah is back to his former & real identity, she will now be going around still called “Xandria Monjeau” and if she meets his family members or his friends, and if she ever has to leak her full name to them, she's going to just wickedly, calmly and charmingly tell them what she is telling Elijah rn, that she "oh she had a huge crush on him all this while and she needed a father for her dear sweet lil boy who wanted a dad and Elijah seemed like the perfect candidate and plus didn't she provide him with a happy, carefree and normal life while he was living with them? oh and husband dearest can't divorce her cos of the son who still believes that Elijah is his dad and he wouldn't want to cause a massive heartbreak to the innocent , warm and purely loving boy who he had grown to somewhat love after all these 3 years ryt?” It’ll be up to J on whether he tells his family members of her linking spell whereby if she dies, he dies too XD.

So Elijah and maybe the rest of his closed ones might think she's some psycho manipulative witch bitch and maybe he doesn't really buy her current story, but she ain’t ever gonna budge in revealing her true identity and real reasons for doing all this to him. Oh and atm, Hayley is going to be kept in the dark on Xandria’s wife connection to Elijah and her adopted ‘son’‘s, Samuel, nicknamed Sam for short, attachment to Elijah, for as long as possible. Xandria’s probably gonna humor Elijah’s demand that their marriage be kept a secret from Hayley, as she has him truly binded in a fix with her now, so this is no problem for her & thus she’s gonna try to make her presence scarce from Hayley in Nola, but who knows how long that will last aka how long before she amusedly can’t resist this temptation to annoy Hayley with this fact?:P

She currently hasn’t pledged any allegiance to Inadu (yet, but who know how desperate she might be to defeat the Mikaelsons in the much later future?:P) She currently prefers to work on her own and be her own boss with the help of her own witch covens cos she's def not the kind to bow down/follow the lead of anyone right nowXD She's gonna slowly bid her time in NOLA to learn more angles on how to defeat the Mikalesons and to gather more resources for the perfect chances to attack her targets( Esther, Kol and Finn are her no.1 targets on her hit list of revenge plans) when the time is right. XD Damn she's so evil and a lil messed up rn :P

So “Xandria Monjeau” is also currently presenting herself as slightly rich, pretty impulsive witch from France besides the other stuff I said earlier. And she’s also intelligent & can be very charming, witty, friendly, nice, generous( not really genuine friendliness & niceness tbhXD), and at the same time, secretly very scheming, crafty and manipulative. The only genuine love she has atm is only for innocent, happy, warm and good-hearted 8 year old Samuel/ Sam.

So anyway, that’s the very lengthy deets on her and I apologize for the long read to anyone who can withstand reading this whole thing till the end. xoxo! To anyone else I haven’t had the chance to IM yet, if you would like to plot anything with Xandria just like this post or hmu! ;) <3

#macabre:intro #plotting call too?:)

3 notes · View notes