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#original female desi character
blueberrynonnie · 3 days ago
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I’M ALIIIVE! I’ve had a busy week and I wanted to post this on Wednesday but….*siiighhhh* 🥲
Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy reading this. Leave a like/comment/reblog if you found this cute. And don’t be rude. Lemme know what you think about this! ✨
Movie night
Saturday nights are mostly movie nights with Loki. We spend the weekends mostly at Loki’s place in New York. He thought it’d be amusing to buy a penthouse. Tonight is one of those nights.
I open the cabinet in his living room and pull out a few scented candles— lavender, cocoa, citrus, vanilla, floral. I place them on the tea table next to a lighter, Loki’s better at picking the fragrance and setting the vibe of the room.
I skip to kitchen, feeling the cold tiles on the soles of my feet. I put on a bright yellow apron and pull out the ingredients for baking cookies.
Just as I finish shaping and placing the cookies onto the tray, I feel a pair of slender hands grasping my waist. The delicate scent of vanilla candles wafts into the kitchen where I am standing, pieces of almond skin are stuck to my apron and the countertop. I grin as I feel a kiss being planted onto my jaw, “How is it that no matter what you do, you always look like a goddess?” Loki whispers onto my skin. I wipe my floury hands onto my apron and turn around in his grasp to face him, lacing my fingers around his neck, “My Prince, ever the charming flirt,” I tilt my head, “I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been watching me?”
“I have my ways,” he winks. “How was your week, Vanya?” He asks, gazing into my eyes. I feel my cheeks heat up, “It was.. eh,” I shrug before continuing, “I did get quite a bit of work done, my presentation went well and ohh you should’ve seen Nick’s face. Let’s just say, I should’ve carried some bread, what with all the evident jelly on his face” Loki snorts and I giggle looking at him. We stand like that for a couple of minutes, looking at each other. The dark haired prince whispers, “What were you baking tonight?” “Amaretti biscuits,” I respond. One of his favourites. He flashes a toothy grin. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, “Let me put these cookies to bake and then we can have our movie night” That doesn’t seem to appease him, he holds onto my waist firmly, “I don’t care for the cookies. Or the movies, as a matter of fact. Come with me, my princess” I play with his hair at the nape of neck, “But this will take me just a minute or two. Not longer. I promise. And then I’m yours for the rest of the weekend. Actually, I’ll have to be back here in 15 minutes to get the cookies out”
He lifts me with ease and places me on the counter. Then, he picks up the baking tray, puts it into the oven, sets the timer and cages me between his arms, “Where were we, princess?” “I believe you were going to tell me about your plans for us tonight, my Prince,” I ask. Loki replies, “Let’s watch the stars tonight. The weather’s good, clear skies and pair it with some of your cookies and I’d say this would be one of the best nights,” he removes my hair tie setting my long black hair free. He runs his fingers through my hair and whispers a praise. “Ooh, can we have a sleepover under the stars tonight?” I ask with a sparkle in my eye. He agrees and we spend some more time in the kitchen, chatting and giggling whilst waiting for the cookies to be done.
As he’s packing the cookies, a blanket and a hoodie, Loki asks, “To our usual spot?” I nod.
We spread the blanket on the roof of his humble Midgardian abode. “This reminds me of the night I’d called you complaining about the crappy plumbing in my apartment. And you brought me here. I don’t know when I fell asleep,” I giggle shaking my head. We sit down and I climb onto his lap facing him. I’ve never been to Asgard so I ask him to describe it to me. There’s a twinkle in his eyes once he starts talking.
It’s a pleasant night. And the blowing of a slight breeze proves it. Loki’s hair drifted along with it. I reach out to tie his hair up, “Woah, darling, what do you think you’re doing?” He asks holding my wrists away from his face. “I.. wanted to tie your hair up. Put it in a lil man-bun,” I reply. He shakes his head, “No. absolutely not. I am the god of mischief. I cannot walk around with a bun in my hair, Vanya!” “Just for tonight! C’mon, Loki. You never let me style your hair,” I look at him with doe-like eyes. A minute passes. He sets my hands free and says, “Alright. You know how to get me to say yes to all your whims.”
I do a tiny victory dance and proceed, “Keep talkinggg!! I want to know everything about Asgard”
I pull my hair tie from my wrist and secure the man-bun and leave a few pieces of his hair loose to frame his face, “There! All done. You are gorgeous, my love,” I kiss his lips softly, “Here, look,” I turn on my phone and he sees himself in the front camera. He looks quite happy with it, “I might’ve been wrong. I don’t look that bad,” he places the phone next to him.
I check the time after a while. 2:43am. “Should we go downstairs? It’s quite late. Or should I say early?” I chuckle. Loki sits up, “Could we stay here for some more time? Unless you’re cold or sleepy” I respond by snuggling closer to him. We stay like that for a while in silence. He faces me and says, “I’ve spent decades and centuries in this universe all alone. I believed I was destined to be alone, that I would spend my life without knowing what it’s like to have a love as unconditional as yours. Every morning I wake up and find you sleeping peacefully next to me, like you trust me enough to not hurt you, and when I move away from you, you search for me subconsciously and hold onto me like I’m important. Like I’m enough. I see pages flutter when you breathe. I see the sun turn to gold at your glance. And there’s nothing else worth seeing. There’s no one I trust my hair with, and there’s certainly no one else I’d rather be with. So, will you marry me and make me the luckiest god, Vanya?”
His words overwhelm me and I can’t help but grin until my cheeks hurt. I nod furiously and tackle him with a hug. He falls back and grunts lightly then lets out a breathy laugh. He kisses me deeply, I break the kiss, “So, it was the man-bun which sealed the deal, huh?” and I smirk.
Tagging: @jinal-daxini @lil-stark @aynanasstuff @ak3music
Lemme know if anyone else would like to be tagged ✨ Thank you for reading. *hug*
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punemy-spotted · a month ago
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In This Life and the Next
Chapter 2: May it not Become the Evil Eye
Summary: They remember, but you forget. You can run from the ties that bind, but it’ll be right into their arms.
Chapter Summary: Face it. It is raw and broken and it is calling.
Pairings: Reader x Helmut Zemo & Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
Reader is Desi and Muslim Coded on Occasion
Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT; Rape/Non-Con Elements; Deeply, Deeply Dark; Character Death Involved; Dubious Consent; Dark!Steve; Dark!Bucky; Dark!Zemo; Political/Mafia Elements; Obsessive/Manipulative Lovers; Workplace Sexual Harassment/Assault; Political Corruption; Pleasepleaseplease read at your own discretion
Chapter Warnings: Minor Dub-con/Non-con, Threats, Mention of wings being clipped
Notes: Chapter 2! Finally, I post a second chapter. In which Steve makes a promise and an ultimatum.
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A cage of gold is still a cage.
You are joy.
You are joy, flowing through the rivers of his memory, a flurry of silks and color, a birdsong of ringing bells, ready to take flight. Oh little dove, will you not raise your wings to the sky and let the aria of your laugh reach the ears of your beloveds? Can you not see, little bird, that you are precious, that you are delicate, that you must be protected?
Don’t you understand, sweetling, don’t you see?
(You can never fly away from me.)
Your dreams are different now.
You knew they would be. You almost miss the nightmares.
Your hands ache with the longing of memory when you wake now, fingertips recalling the softness of kisses and the scrabbling of brick, crumpled memories tossed around your subconscious and struggling to be put together. Like glass case upon unyielding stone, the dust of time has dulled the pieces and nothing fits together anymore.
Nothing, that is, but the red ring on your finger, calling you to follow the strings and seek completion.
Why do you shy away? What are you afraid of in the cold-dark of the unknown? Is it the bright steel of their eyes, the slyness of the Baron’s smile and the sharpness of his guards’ scowls? How did your bond diverge this way and what will you do about it?
Do they know?
Of course they do, they have to know, they have to have felt the burn on their hands, dragging them back, coaxing them to turn and acknowledge that which the universe was begging them to do.
But they didn’t. And, in their defense: neither did you.
So where do you go from here?
Back to work, technically, staying hunched over your paperwork for an indeterminate amount of hours. You ought to go get lunch, escape while the Senator is busy arguing the budget in a committee meeting. Get fresh air and rid yourself of the miasma of his gaze, if for a little bit. But you’re busy. Busy and therefore perfectly willing to forgo — Excuse me, Miss…
You’re too proud to admit that the yelp pouring from your lips actually belongs to you, but it does and when you turn to face the reason for your racing heartbeat, you can see the bemused quirk of his lips as he looks at you and knows.
Sorry, did I scare you? He speaks with a voice like rasping silk, steady and quiet but used to being heard and listened to. By you, especially.
You don’t know why you know that.
Yes you do.
It’s fine. Good girl, wave it away and pretend you aren’t panicking. Smile. Fake it. How can I help you? You’re from Baron Zemo’s office, right? Um… You remember him, the one Zemo didn’t name, composed of furrowed brows and soft lips and a beard you were suddenly imagining running your fingers through and snap out of it, girl!
Yeah. Captain Steve Rogers — I’m chief of his security team.Oh. That makes some sense, but now you’re wondering what the Hell he’s doing here, standing in front of you. The Senator around?
Oh. No, he’s in a Committee meeting, but I can ca — he cuts you off by stepping closer to you, eyes fixed onto you.
Eyes fixed onto your hand.
No. It’s you I want.
You knew this conversation was coming, didn’t you? You knew someone would come, and now here he is, daring you to ask him all the reasons why. Daring you to acknowledge that which you won’t, that which you’ve tried to hide by denying your nature and that… that is the greatest sin of all, little dove.
Excuse me?
You’re not stupid, sweetheart, and I know you heard me. Stand up.
Don’t move. You’re not a marionette on strings, are you? So don’t move, don’t do anything but cross your arms over your chest. Don’t acknowledge the coiling heat in your core when that brow of his furrows further, when he looms over you just like that, when his hand shoots out and grabs your wrist before you can react, when he pulls you to your feet whether you want him to or not. Don’t. React.
When I give you an order, sweetheart, you better learn to listen. Low and dark and in your face, right against those surprise-parted lips and shock-widened eyes, filling your vision with the absolute supremacy of his will over yours.
Didn’t run fast enough, rabbit.
He doesn’t give you time to think, time to sharpen your talons and swipe at him, save yourself. He cages you instead, slamming your back against the wall beside your desk, pressing in closer, eyes trained unerringly on yours. The hand on your wrist shifts, sliding up until he’s forced your fingers to lace with his and presses the back of your hand up against the wall, just beside your head. Did you think you got away?
What are you talking about? And let me go!
The chuckle in your ear is low, paying no attention to your free hand pressing against his chest, to the way you try to close your legs and push his thigh between them out. A soft chuff, really, like a lion laughing in the face of prey. We gave you a week, sweetheart. You can’t avoid us forever.
A week.
A week since Baron Helmut Zemo and company had walked into your workplace, spoken to your employer, and revealed they were your soulmates, all three connected by a red thread, converging into the ring around your finger. A week.
You had been avoiding them.
You open your mouth to fire something back, maybe something snappy, maybe something cruel, but his free hand has you by the face before you can, squeezing your cheeks with rough fingers while the palm of his hand presses your jaw up and swallows your words. No.
The heat flares again, pulsing over your skin like a wave of fire, settling in your lungs and heaving your chest, demanding more air as you huff through your nose and try to push him away but he is an immovable object and you are not an unstoppable force, girl, you are only a girl in the face of a cold and cruel Adonis and you can never escape.
Don’t make me clip your wings.
It’s for your own good.
I’m done waiting around.
You want to hate him. You want to slam your fists against his chest and scream and draw attention to his crimes but the mouth that slides over yours is warm and familiar and the hand that was once bruising your jaw is now holding you so tenderly you might as well be made of delicate crystal and he is…
Soft, on your lips, the pressure of plush warmth and gentle breath, faint sighs from the both of you melding together a moment before blue eyes meet yours and he rests his forehead to your temple. I’m done waiting around, sweetheart.
It’s not a threat.
It’s a plea, soft and sweet, and don’t you want to give in? Don’t you want to surrender to the warmth of him, the strength of him, don’t you feel saferight here, in his arms? You do. You feel it in your bones that you do.
So why is it that when you open your mouth again, you say I can’t and let his eyes shift from begging-soft to hard as ice?
Why do you always try to fly away?
He strokes your cheek like a regret, wiping away a tear, a streak of blood, a memory of pain, and the second kiss is no longer asking.
The plushness of your mouth is his own playground, teeth tugging at soft lips and soothed with a brush of his tongue, demanding surrender and if you do not give it he will win this war for your affection, do not tempthim… or do. Do tempt, curl your fingers into the harness at his chest, feel the warm expanse of him swell with the longing of unknown lifetimes and fall.
Fall right into him.
Let out that whimper of a moan when his lips travel along your jaw, when he finds the tenderness just below your ear, when he nips at you and threatens to mark you his here and now. But you are his.
Come with me, sweetheart. Rasping and warm and there’s the heat again, snaking through you and pooling slick around your center and here you are, snaking your hand up to his shoulder and around the back of his neck and there go your fingers winding through that soft long hair and That’s it, sweetheart, hold me closer, I’ve got you.
You want to.
You shouldn’t.
Steve, please d — you’re cut off by the sound of his snarl and then the sudden release as he pushes himself off the wall and away from you, leaving you to crumple against that sole solid surface on shaky legs as his thigh leaves the space between yours and you realize just how molten your body had become.
He steadies you by holding your wrist again, making you look at the red ring on your finger, his other hand showing you his, the strings tangled between you both. You can’t keep running from this, sweetheart, and we’re not gonna let you, understand?
The further you run, the tighter we will hold you.
And you. You gape at him with love-swollen lips and slick warmth in your panties and you have the audacity to try to wrench your hand away and snap I’m not running. I’m right here — you leave me alone!
And oh, he looks cut to the quick when you say that, the lust-blown darkness in his eyes fading fast, less angry than hurt and dropping your wrist for you to take back. Slink into your chair, girl, and look at the wounded lion before you.
Look what you’ve done.
Sweetness… he reaches out again, saying your name like an apology, watching you flinch from his fingers and shushing you softly, I’ll give you one more chance to get used to it. You know where to find us. Find me.Don’t make us come after you again, sweetheart, cuz we ain’t gonna be patient long.
And with that, he turns you around and leaves you to face the consequences of your reactions.
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Taglist: @gorgeourrific-nerd
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punemy-spotted · a month ago
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In This Life and the Next
Chapter 1: It was Asleep in the Veins
Summary: They remember, but you forget. You can run from the ties that bind, but it'll be right into their arms.
Pairings: Reader x Helmut Zemo & Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
Reader is Desi and Muslim Coded on Occasion
Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT; Rape/Non-Con Elements; Deeply, Deeply Dark; Character Death Involved; Dubious Consent; Dark!Steve; Dark!Bucky; Dark!Zemo; Political/Mafia Elements; Obsessive/Manipulative Lovers; Workplace Sexual Harassment/Assault; Political Corruption; Pleasepleaseplease read at your own discretion
Notes: Sometimes my writing has a playlist and this time it just has a song, please enjoy Lahu Munh Lag Gaya while reading this. This is a fic that is going to be dark and as it develops, more warnings may be added. Please read at your own discretion and let me know if more things need to be tagged.
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What is pride, but the precedent before the fall?
How far will you fall, sweetling, before time brings you back to me?
It is in your blood.
It is the red earth under your racing feet, the heavy humidity of promised rain, the dhol-beat of your thudding heart. You can try to run from it — you do, sometimes — but it draws you back, draws you in, draws you home.
(The further you run, the tighter we will hold you.)
The open terrace is an invitation, the waiting archway is a portal — it only takes one step.
You always do this, don’t you? Your own little game, the running. When you love wolves, you might as well make yourself prey, racing down these sun-bright halls and daring them, sweetness, daring them to reach out of the shadows and take hold.
(Run, rabbit, run, but we are patient and we are watching…)
He lives there, in the corner of your memory, a promise and a threat. I will always find you.
So let him, little treasure, and paint your skin with the memory of his fingertips. Remind him, as he reminds you.
Let him come to you, let him chase you down the ramparts and catch you in the courtyard. Let him wrap his arms around your waist and twirl you in the air, let him hear the song of your laugh I have memorized you like a prayer, whispered into the crook of your neck.
He is sweetness. He is warmth, he is a memory you treasure in the dark.
He is dead.
Pay no attention to the dark clouds on the horizon.
Pay no attention to the shadows on his face.
He will love you — don’t you see, don’t you understand how you are mine — but he will use you, little lamb, until you are spent. You are a lifetime, a fire, and he will take all the light you have to offer and you will place your tombstone in the graveyard that is his heart.
You will forget.
He will not.
The red threads can be a noose too, if you aren’t careful, and sweetling you can never be too careful around him.
So run.
Run until your legs crumple, until you are too tired to crawl. Run because once you do he will not stop.
(Lips touched lips and through them touched blood…)
He has tasted the blood of your love, sweetling, do you truly think he’ll ever set you free?
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The scream comes from your own throat.
You’re awake now, bathed in the light of the morning, panting from the last vestiges of the nightmare you have woken up from every morning for the past three weeks. Frantic, you reach for your neck like you’ve done every morning for the past three weeks, searching for blood.
And like every morning for the past three weeks, your hand comes away clean.
But you remember it don’t you, the jaws around your throat, biting down until you go limp in their grip? Run, rabbit, run…
You’re so tired of being afraid.
Your alarm is set to go off in thirty minutes, but you know you won’t be able to fall asleep in that time. Groaning softly, you roll out of bed and set it to snooze for the day lest it interrupts your shower. The lies you tell yourself about clearing your head this way will guide you through the rest of your routine.
You ache. A soreness in your bones, familiar and strange all at once. Running, constantly, from something you cannot explain or articulate, dreams you mull over and fail to understand. And then waking, frantic and screaming, begging for your life to thin air before the reality sinks in and you come to terms with this false safety.
The water of the shower does little to ease it, but it’s enough. Enough to push you through the rest of getting ready, reluctantly.
This life could have, should have, perhaps even would have been a fairytale. The culmination of your strife, years of clawing your way six feet out of that grave of constant study, exhaustion embedded in your bones, all to become this. All to stand at the right hand of the Man-Who-Could-Be-President, all to bring him coffee and papers and write the talking points of his speeches and make yourself Invaluable to the Movement you are so sureyou believe in.
Were.
Were so sure you believed in.
It’s a slow siege.
One piece of armor, then the next.
(Bet that lipstick leaves a mark.)
You stopped wearing red to work, settling for neutral lip balm and pretending it didn’t leave you vulnerable.
(It’s nice of you to dress the part.)
Those tailored suits you once loved wearing so much now sit as moth food in the back of your closet as you drape yourself in the ill-fitting and ill-designed.
(You have such lovely hair.)
Lovely, sitting messily in a clip so his fingers can never run through raven tresses again.
Look at you.
Look at you, standing in the mirror. Is this what you are? Is this what you want to be? Is this what your promise and ambition have led you to become, shadowed and cowering in your clothes? Where is your violence, where is your passion, where is the fire?
Who are you now, lamb-to-the-slaughter, lost sheep, girl in the woods?
You wake, you dress, you stare at yourself in the mirror again and in your heart, weep.
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Baron, welcome, thank you for coming by. The brush of a hand against the nape of your neck has you turning from your desk and the papers strewn across it, facing yet more wolves in this den of your prison. The Senator gestures for you to stand and you do, keeping your gaze from his hungry eyes as yours scan over the guests he’s brought by.
Familiar faces.
And not, all at once. You know those shapes, the sly curve of that smile, the effortless tousle of brown hair and yet you don’t. Like seeing them in pieces, placed on the same canvas but sparking no proper recognition.
May I introduce you to the newest member of our staff, Miss… he pulls you in as he speaks, the smile on his face too wide and too warm to be anything but hiding fangs and you can feel the want pulsing through each word as he introduces you.
Ignore him.
Ignore the pressure of his hands on your shoulders, giving you a squeeze as he stands you in front of him like a trophy. Focus on the man in front of you, and the icy curiosity in his eyes.
Good morning, Baron Zemo there, that’s the name, and yet it sits wrong on your tongue, like there’s more to him that you know and don’t all at once, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Practice it. Steady it. Measure the words like you don’t feel the pressure on your shoulder, like you aren’t looking for any excuse to escape that roaming grip.
Does he see? Does he see the way you writhe in your own mind, crawling and raw and desperate? Is that way his gaze hardens when he glances idly to the senator and then back to you? It is my pleasure. And coffee, if you please — three, no need for cream or sugar.
Of course.
A man like him would hardly come alone and there they are, stepping in from the periphery of your vision, towering behind their employer. One dark-haired and the other blond, wearing armor and scowls and so very familiar. You know those eyes, ice and steel, and yet you don’t and — memories burst like bubbles to the pin of the very present reality of the Senator’s hand sliding down your upper arm, fingers brushing your chest you are not safe.
Choose. Now. Fight, flight, or freeze? Let them see the glittering fear behind your glasses and hope they’ll save you?
Stupid girl, don’t you know?
No one can save you but yourself.
Wrench yourself from the grip on your shoulder, stalk over to the coffeepot. Just past the Baron-who-isn’t My apologies, I must be in your way.
No, no, of course not, please make yourself comfortable.
Keep it bright.
Keep it chipper.
Don’t look back at the hungry eyes following you, don’t think about it, don’t let them see your spine be anything but titanium, don’t let the—the hand on your wrist is black-gloved and unyielding, spinning you around to face steel eyes and harsh finality We’ll take care of it.
Right.
Of course.
Sergeant Barnes, please. We need not frighten our friends. Baron Zemo’s voice is silk and warmth and you should not feel so safe in the honeysweetness.
The glove leaves your wrist. Sergeant Barnes? Stands still as a statue and you step back. They’ll take care of it, and they do. The other of the two, technically, pouring coffee and trading mugs until all five of you are warming your hands with fresh-brewed caffeine.
Senator. Shall we?
You’re alone. Baron Zemo slips into the Senator’s office and the door closes with a snap, leaving you in the presence of solemn and silent.
You should get back to work.
You should say something.
You should do a good many things.
So do it.
Work it is. You can feel the eyes on you, somewhere between curious and suspicious, while you shuffle papers and try to focus on the email you were drafting. Focus.
Focus.
Don’t look back.
Don’t look at the office door.
Don’t do anything but stare at those papers, write those emails.
Focus.
You should run, rabbit.
The silence comes with whispers, winding around your ear like curls of smoke, bidding you turn around and look at the statues behind you, search their faces, ask them questions. You have so many, sweet and polite, where is your chatter?
It’s an hour before the office door opens and Helmut Zemo’s honeysweet voice filters to your ears, I’m sure your Sokovian-American constituents will be quite pleased by the bill, Senator. We shall have to honor you for your dedication to our shared people at the embassy.
You stand without thinking, usually so used to only moving when the Senator bids you — mostly to keep yourself out of his grip — but the draw of his voice is undeniable. Like a moth to a flame, you burn your wings to please and meet the watchers’ icy eyes as you wait for the beacon to step into view.
He sees you. So thorough and careful, a feigned warmth around his countenance as eyes flicker over you. Searching. Hungry. You know to avoid the gaze of men like him and so you do, looking just past his face enough to hide your discomfort. Thank you for coming, Baron Zemo. We’re thrilled to have your support. Please let us know how we can be of assistance while you’re in the city.
You will regret those words, in time.
But for now? For now the Baron takes your hand and offers you a thin smile, bowing to press gentle lips to your knuckles, ignoring the way you flinch. It has been my pleasure, my dear.
It’s when he turns that you feel it. The pain in your left hand, drawing your eyes down to the threaded ring around your finger, now tight and burning. The drumbeat from your nightmares starts up again, thudding hard in your ears as your eyes follow the red thread stemming from them.
To the three men now walking out of the room.
Run, rabbit, run.
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blueberrynonnie · a month ago
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Blueberry’s Masterlist
Hi, I’m Har! I hope you like what I’ve written so far 🌱 Drop in likes, comments, reblogs— anything to let me know what you think about my work 🐣
Or, If you want me to write about something in particular, I could do that too (send a text or whatever) 🙃
Edit: There’s also a bunch of med school incidents in here, in a separate section. I bet you’ll love it!! Thank you, and byeee
Edit 2: Don’t be rude, don’t be a bully. It’s ugly. Thank you.
Started: 31/3/2021
Henry Cavill
Working late 
Nights like these
Tom Hiddleston (also includes Loki)
Of Sweets and love
Movie night (Loki x original female character)
Harry styles
Feast
My med school life
Acne
Antihypertensive
Breathlessness
Crush injuries
COVID tea (just a tidbit)
Urinary tract infection
Niacin deficiency
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chubbybuckydumpling · 5 months ago
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A Doctor’s Tale
words: 6.9k
relationship: Bruce Banner x desi!daughter!Reader
warnings: character death, slight spoilers for Marvel Studio’s The Avengers, fluff, angst
A/n: thank you so much @gotnofucks for helping me with this idea! You’re so kind and I hope I didn’t make this offensive in any way. I’m happy for any corrections. Please be kind, this was very difficult for me to write and I committed a few writing sins. I hope you’ll enjoy this any way :) (gif by @steves-on-a-plane)
My Masterlist | Part 2
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The air was heavy with moisture, yet the heat of the day has not passed. Bruce heaved with exhaustion, the new climate put a noticeable strain on his body. The temperatures made him sweat vigorously and gave him a headache, especially on his way up these damned stairs. He would need to get adjusted to his new surroundings before he could work efficiently.
Another thing he would need to tolerate were the bustling streets. Everywhere Bruce looked, there were crowds of people, so close together it made his hands shake with anxiety. He preferred taking longer routes that were less public and less triggering.
After he had become afflicted with the other guy, Bruce couldn't stay. He was hunted down by the United States Armed Forces, so he had to flee. He knew he could hide in India without much trouble. He read about the country and their societal norms, so he felt somewhat calm, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of Kolkata.
The city was beautiful, of course. He admired the architecture and the many different buildings. He loved the parks, the bridges and the temples. The different kinds of food made him especially happy, yet he hated how talkative and social everyone is. No matter where he went, someone would try to bond with him, which triggered his anxiety.
Generally speaking, he enjoyed life in India, if it weren't for that unbearable weather. As he arrived at the top of the stairs, his shirt was wet from his sweat and the overly high humidity. With a sigh he pulled out a bottle of water to rehydrate – the amount of water he must have lost is remarkable. The water was warm and not as relieving as he had hoped, but it would have to suffice.
With one arm, Bruce wiped away the sweat that formed on his forehead, before he entered the house he was looking for. He heard about this shelter where some women took in ill women and children who could not afford to go to the hospital. Bruce had admired their dedication and hoped they would accept him as a volunteer.
With cautious eyes he looked around the room. He could see that the owners try their best to keep it clean and welcoming, but the smell of illness is prominent in the air. This chamber is obviously designed to be a reception area to check in their patients, but the cheap chairs and chipped wooden table were a sign of a lack of money. They were probably spending it on medical supplies and food.
Bruce stepped further into the room, the floorboards creaking, “Hello? May I speak to anyone?” Shyly, he began to play with his fingers, feet shuffling nervously.
A beautiful woman entered the room from one of the four doors and Bruce sucked in a breath when her sparkling eyes met his. She looked exhausted, but nothing could ever dim her beauty. The floor creaked slightly as she made her way to stand in front of him. She was small, yet her confidence was unmissable.
The woman raised an eyebrow, “What can I do for you, sir?” Bruce swallowed and let out the breath he had been holding, “I'm Bruce Banner. I heard about your work here. Uhm, are you the head doctor?” She crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking at him sceptically, but nodded nevertheless. “I would like to offer my help. I think this non-profit is incredible and I would love to assist?”
Finally, he broke eye contact and stared at the floor, terrified of the woman's reaction. Now, he could not see the amused smile playing on the smaller woman's lips, “Well, Bruce, how could I ever deny any help. However, I would quite like to learn something about your background, you know. Any qualifications?” Quickly, Bruce looked up a panicked look in his eyes, “Of course, I'm sorry, I should have mentioned that beforehand. I'll answer any questions, I'm sorry!”
She smiled a big toothy smile and jerked her head towards the sink, “Let me just...”. Bruce nodded quickly. It seemed that his usual knowledge of words had disappeared. All he could think about was how soft her brown skin looked and the gentle curves of her face.
“It's Aarohi, by the way”, she spoke as she washed her small hands, “Well, actually Dr. Verma, but we're friends now, right Bruce?” He smiled, completely smitten, “Right”
It was at this point that Bruce knew he would fall in love with her. And he was right. She brought out the best of him, her outgoing and confidant ways helped him to learn about himself and he rekindled with his body and soul. The three and a half years he had been in Kolkata taught him to love himself, admittedly that was still hard for him, but being able to help women and children in need made him feel good. And Aarohi had been by his side the entire time.
She opened her arms and heart for him and lead him through his issues. When he'd wake up screaming from his nightmares she was there to calm him down. His head between her hands as she pressed small kisses all over his face.
When he was too shy to talk to anyone but her, she would do her best to try and include him. By now he was way more comfortable talking to others. It was still scary, but not as panic inducing as it used to be. Bruce became a better man, all because of Aarohi, which is why after only a year and a half, he got down on one knee, hand shaking.
“You are the light in my life. When I arrived in India, everything was dark, but you showed me how to live again. I am a better man, because you bring out the best in me. I love you, with all of my heart. And I know that getting married is not possible for us, at least at the moment, but will you take this promise ring, for I promise I will forever love and cherish you, support you through thick and thin, in times of hardship and in times of ease. You are my world d without you I'd be lost. Aarohi, please accept this ring as a sign of my devotion” - and she did.
It wasn't really a surprise when she became pregnant shortly afterwards. Bruce had never been so happy before. Sometimes he feared about the other guy. What would happen if he came out or even worse, if their child would have his monster DNA, but his spouse reassured him and kept him calm as best as she could, “He hasn't come out for your whole stay in Kolkata and even if he would, I love every part of you, Bruce”
And once their baby girl was born, he was head over heels for you. From the moment he layed eyes on you he knew that he would do anything for you. “Bruce, do you want to hold her? Do you want to meet your daddy, shona?” It felt like time was frozen when he held you in his arms, your tiny fingers mindlessly holding onto him, a tiny yawn falling from your mouth.
And at times it was really hard. Bruce nor Aarohi wanted to stop working, their little clinic meant to much for them. So they switched between watching you and working. Bruce would have loved to bring you with him, but the chances of you catching a disease were too high to risk it. And therefore, your parents spent most of their time apart, yet their relationship kept growing stronger. Bruce's love for your mother increased every day and even now that you're eight months old his heart still swelled when he looked at her.
It's another hot day, the heat and humidity weighing heavily over Kolkata. Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat. The smell of tea fills the air as his thick and delicate fingers fumble with the warm cup, his eyes trained on your sleeping body. He smiles and walks over to your crib, a smile on his face, “I love you, shona”, he whispers before he gently takes you out of your little bed and cradles you in his arms.
Bonding with you means everything to Bruce. He adores you with every fibre of his being, which is why skin on skin is one of his favourite activities. To feel you and to know you're alive coats him in a sense of calmness. He sits back down at the table and rubs soothing circles onto your back, “Daddy's got you, shona don't you ever worry your pretty little head. I promise I'll protect you” Soft lips press onto your forehead, your father's scent surrounding you, “Always and forever”
Bruce gently rocks you while humming a soft melody and simply enjoying the moment. Peace and quiet are a rare occurrence in his days which is why he cherished them so deeply. Bruce loved to trace your features, to see how you look so similar to him.
He could hear Aarohi return before he spotted her through the window which allowed him to quickly dash to the door with you, still safely pressed to his chest. The door creaks as he opens it, a smile immediately covering his face as he spreads his arms for a hug, “ Welcome home Momma, we missed you so much” She laughs at his adorable greeting and steps into his embrace. Both of them are sweaty, but the feeling of their loved one is overpowering, dulling the stickiness of their bodies. Bruce gazes into her eyes as if she had hung the stars and he feels his heart flutter. It only takes a moment before their lips meet in a gentle kiss, emotions and love poured into it, “I love you, Bruce” - “I love you too. So much”
Suddenly, a small cry disturbs their moment, “Oh Y/n, shona, what's wrong? Did you miss Momma?”, she coos and takes you out of Bruce's embrace, “Don't cry, Momma's got you. Are you hungry? That's fine, I'm here” She smiles and gently strokes your hair. “She's had some fruit and veggies and a bottle that you've prepared”, he mentions as he walks into the bedroom to fetch a shirt. Aarohi smiled down at you, her beautiful daughter, “Have you been such a good girl eating all your veggies?” She takes off her bloodied and stained shirt from work and lets down her bra to feed you.
Exhaustion is clear on her face, but even when she sighs, she's the most beautiful woman Bruce has ever seen. Especially while she nourishes you, his own flesh and blood, he can feel his heart swell. She keeps you alive and healthy, the biggest gift he could have ever received. He makes his way over to the two of you and brushes some strands of hair out of her face that must have come loose from her tight bun, “How is everything at the clinic?”
“It's really stressful. I think something is going around. We'll see more of this virus for sure.”, she sighs looking down at you, “We need to be especially careful. I don't want Y/n to fall ill. Not with this” Their gazes meet “I'll make sure to be extra sterile then”, he whispers before pressing his lips to her temple.
She leans into him with a smile, eyes closed, “Thank you” His hand gently rubs over her arm, his thumb drawing circles. After a while you let out a whine, fed and sated. “Oh, shona, are you done? Does Momma need to burp you?” She wrestles you up on her shoulder to pat her soft hand against your back.
“It's very busy back there, you should hurry. Our doctors can't keep up with them alone.”, she whispers, turning her head to look at Bruce. He nods and leans down to capture her lips into a kiss. It's gentle and sweet, just like her, “I love you”, he mumbles against her lips. Then, he leans down to press a kiss onto your head, “I love you too, shona” Aarohi grins and turns you around to face him, “We love you too, Daddy”, she says and waves with your hands in her hands.
Bruce had absolutely no idea why he let himself get dragged into this mess. Actually he did, how could he ever say no to the pleading eyes of that little girl. She looked so tiny and scared and he could see you in that girl. Hopeless and scared. So he followed her, clueless about the events that were to follow soon.
Regret fills Bruce the moment he enters the house and helplessly watches as the girl leaves through a window – no ill father in sight. He huffs, a self-deprecating smile on his lips, “Should have gotten paid up front, Banner”
“You know”, a voice calls out to him suddenly, “For a man ho's supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle” A woman appears out of the shadows, short, curly, red hair frames her face. She looks absolutely stunning. Carefully, Bruce puts down his medical bag and turns towards the female, “Avoiding stress isn't the secret”
She raises her eyebrow, “Then what is it? Yoga?”, she jokes, no humour in her voice. Nerves arising, he rubs his hands together to calm himself, “You brought me to the edge of the city”, he remarks, looking out of a window, “Smart”. With his hands clutched, Bruce walks towards it in an attempt to scan the area “ I uh,”, he mumbles, “I assume the whole place is surrounded?”
The woman takes off her red cardigan and moves towards him, “Just you and me”. “And your actress buddy?”, he questions, “She was a spy too? They start that young?” He walks back towards the middle of the room. “I did”, she answers. “Who are you?”. He is nervous and he feels his anxiety crawling up his back. “Natasha Romanoff”
Silence. Bruce still fiddles with his fingers, but after a moment he looks directly into her eyes, “Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? Because that's not gonna work out... for everyone”. Natasha slowly moves closer to him, “No, no of course not”, she shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed, “I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D”.
He looks down and rubs his hands, “S.H.I.E.L.D”, he states monotonously, “How did they find me?” Looking up, Bruce sees her looking at him, “We never lost you, doctor. We've kept our distance. Even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent”, her voice is low like she's trying to speak extra calm. “Why?”, Bruce asks.
“Nick Fury seems to trust you”, she answers seriously, “But now we need you to come in”. He can't help but smile, “What if I say no?” Natasha smirks, her eyes twinkling dangerously, “I'll persuade you” He looks down, his pink tongue licking over his lips in thought, “What if”, he pauses to look up, “the other guy says no?” There it was, the elephant in the room.
Bruce is very proud that ever since he fled to India, the Hulk has not made an appearance. He did not receive any unwanted attention and lived life normally. He was able to be a good partner and father, never giving in to his anger. But now, things might change and that scares him. He does not want to let the monster out. It seems like Natasha knows that as well.
“You've been more than three years without an incident, I don't think you want to break that streak”, she says and turns away from him. The echo of her steps fills the room. “Well I don't every time get what I want” When he looks at the woman, she is walking towards him, a phone in her hands, “Doctor, we're facing a global catastrophe”
A self-deprecating chuckle escapes his lips, “Well, those I actively try to avoid” Without giving any thought to his statement, Natasha sits down at a small table that is situated in the room and shows him a picture of a bright, blue glowing cube, “This”, she starts and slides the phone towards him, “is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet”
Bruce fetches his glasses out of his spectacles case and puts them on. Cautiously, he grabs the phone to get a better look of the cube, In confusion, he lifts his head, “What does Fury want me to do, swallow it?” Natasha leans forward while keeping eye contact, “He wants you to find it. It's been taken. It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one who knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, then that's where I'd be”
Natasha leans back in her chair as he takes off his glasses, “So, Fury isn't after the monster?” “Not that he's told me”, she says calmly. “And he tells you everything?”, Bruce retorts. Slowly, but with grace, the woman stands up, “Talk to Fury, he needs you on this”. But it's too late, he can feel his fear rising, “He needs me in a cage?”
In an attempt of reassurance, Natasha begins to speak, “No one's gonna put you in a-” but she's interrupted as he suddenly slams his fists onto the table, “STOP LYING TO ME”, he shouts. With the blink of an eye, the woman grabs a gun from under the table and cocks it right into his face. A scared look settles on her face which she quickly tries to fight back.
Bruce steps back from the table. When he speaks again his voice sounds calm and collected, “I'm sorry”, he says, “That was mean”. A smile plays over his lips, “I just wanted to see what you'd do”. Natasha still holds the gun in her hands and Bruce puts his head in front of him to calm the woman down, “Why don't we do this the easy way where you don't use that”, he points to her gun, “and the other guy doesn't make a mess. Okay?”
Silence. “Natasha?”, he asks. The woman slowly lowers her gun, her gaze never leaving Bruce. After a few seconds she activates her earpiece, “Stand down”, she commands, “We're good here”. The eyebrows rise on his face, smile still on his lips, “ 'Just you and me' “, he mocks her earlier words. Natasha doesn't answer, she just stares at him from a few feet away.
“I need to tell my family. I have a daughter I need to tell her goodbye”, he suddenly realises, a panicked look on his face. Tenderly Natasha walks to him and places a hand on his shoulder, “Bruce this is urgent, there's no time”. There's a wild look in his eyes as he frantically runs to grab his bag, “No, please I have to. Y/n she's my daughter, I love her, I- I need to speak to her”
“Bruce”, the woman's voice is powerful and makes him stop in his tracks, “this is a global threat we are dealing with. There is no time. You can write a letter while we're on the jet. S.H.I.E.L.D will make sure it will arrive as soon as possible”. Bruce looks at the woman with a look that is similar to that of a kicked puppy and yet he sighs in defeat. He will soon come to learn that Natasha Romanoff does not negotiate, she gets what she wants, no questions asked. “Okay”, he whispers and follows the woman outside.
This is why you grew up being raised by a single mother. You love her more than anything in life. She made so many sacrifices and worked harder than any other person you know. She taught you everything she knew, about her work as a doctor, important life skills and most important how to be a decent human being. You try to be as kind and empathetic as you can, but you know your worth and found confidence in yourself.
Of course you're not perfect. You are insecure from time to time like any teenager and you are very temperamental from time to time. However, you are especially sensitive when it comes to the topic of your father. Ever since you could remember your mother talked to you about your father. She told you how kind and caring he is, how he loved you so much. But if he loved you so much, why wasn't he with you, with his family?
He sends letters to you and your mum and money to help you out and you appreciate that, but you wish he would just come up. Sometimes there are articles and reports about the Hulk. Aarohi had told you that your father could turn into him, but that you never had to fear him. And you don't, really. You love your father, but there's no solid relationship between you and your dad.
That is mostly your fault. You never answered your father's letters. Every time you sat down with a piece of paper and a pen nerves got the best of you. With shaky hands you put the pen down before you cried into your hands, careful to evade your mother. So one day you stopped trying.
Currently you're sitting in your room tinkering on one of your inventions. School has been quite easy for you and your mother kept telling you that you inherited your father's intelligence, a proud smile on her lips. Science came to you easily and physics as well as chemistry became your best friends. When you weren't busy helping your mother at the clinic you were experimenting with different chemicals and the laws of nature to try and broaden your understanding of the complex reactions and procedures.
The smell of spices and lemon fills the air in your room from your diffuser sticks while some soft rock plays on the radio. Your head nods involuntarily to the beat of some catchy chorus when you hear footsteps approaching. Not your mother's, she walks lighter than this. You turn around in your seat so you have a good view of the door as it opens to reveal one of the nurses that work for your mother. She frantically runs towards you, her eyes are wide and her lower lip is wobbling.
“Y/n it's your mother”, she whispers and takes a deep breath, “She just collapsed, we don't know why, I'm sorry, Y/n” You freeze at her words, eyes widening. Panic is bubbling up in your chest as your muscles tense, “What do you men? W-Will she be alright?” The woman just looks down which is as much of an answer as you need.
All of a sudden your body releases adrenaline into your bloodstream and you jump from your chair, your heart beating in your throat, “What are you waiting for?”, you yell at her, “Move!”. Your feet are moving on their own accord, the path to the clinic embedded in your brain from the thousands of times you have walked it. Hot wind is whipping your face as you run along the streets, the gravel and dirt scrunching loudly under the soles of your shoes.
You're panting once you arrive at the steps leading to the clinic, the humid air not helping with your struggle for oxygen, but you don't stop moving. The fear coursing through your veins overpowers the exhaustion. “Momma?”, you shout once you've barged through the doors. The floor creaks mournfully under your weight as you fiddle with your fingers. The smell of diseases and antibiotics hangs in the air. Usually you like being here, but now it feels like a weight that presses you down the further you walk in.
A doctor runs down the stairs, her steps rushed. She fixes you with her pitiful eyes and you feel anger bubbling up in your chest. “Y/n, my child, I'm so-” “DON'T”, you interrupt her, tears brimming in your eyes, “She won't die”. The snarling sound that leaves your mouth scares the doctor, but you run past her without care and sprint up the steps.
Upstairs, your mothers is lying on a thin mattress on the ground. Two nurses surround her, one presses a cold, wet cloth to her forehead, the other sits next to her to hold her hand. When she sees you she immediately gets up to make room for you. When your eyes land on your mothers face you release a gasp. She looks nothing like this morning when you saw her last.
She is pale around the nose, all her beautiful colours lost, and her skin is sunken down. Sweat is pooling on her forehead and runs down her temples in miserable lines while her eyes are hooded and half closed. The sound of heavy,  flat breathes reaches your ears which finally breaks you out of your shock.
A few strong steps are enough to reach your mother's weak form. You fall to your knees with a soft thud and grab her hand, “Momma?”, you whisper, the first tears falling. A groan leaves her lips and she coughs nastily, “Shona?”,she croaks. A sob leaves your body and you press your head to hers, “Momma, what's happening?”
Her free hand moves up to cup your cheeks and you straighten to look into her strangely clear eyes, “I'm going to die, shona. I need you to listen to me”, she whispers hoarsely. “No”, you cry. Tears are freely rolling down your face. “No. momma you're not going to die, I won't let you, I promise”, you tell her desperately. You wipe away some tears with the back of your hand, before you open your mouth again. “Y/n”, Aarohi interrupts and you still. She never calls you by your name.
“I beg you, listen to me. I'm sick, been for a while. It's only transmitted over blood, so don't worry”, she pauses to take a breath while she shakily brushes some strands of hair out of your face. “You're a strong woman and I couldn't be prouder of you. Are you listening, Y/n?”, you nod, your vision blurry. “All I want for you is to be happy, okay? No matter what you do as long as you're happy that's all I could ask for, do you understand?”, she rasps out.
“Momma, what-”, you whimper, but she interrupts you again, “Y/n, do you understand?” You sob, but nod through the tears, “Yes, Momma” Her thumb moves to wipe away your tears and she sighs,”Good, That's good”. She coughs again and groans in pain,”Please talk to your father, shona. He loves you so much. Can you promise me that you'll write him?” Her voice sounds even weaker now, but your heart beats way too fast. The only thing cursing through you is fear. “I promise, Momma. I love you”, you cry, snot and tears mixing together.
Aarohi's hand falls from your face as her breathing becomes flatter. She closes her eyes, “I love you too, shona”, the words clumsily tumble from her lips. Your whole body trembles as it convulses. All your power leaves your body and your left to loudly cry next to your mother's death bed.
The next few weeks were hard for you,but you could never forget your mother's last words. You promised her you would reach out to your father, so you did. It wasn't long before you received an answer. His handwriting was shaky and hard to read, but you managed to figure it out, somehow. He told you he could not leave the United States by law, but he would be more than happy to welcome you into his home back in the USA.
You froze when you read his words. He wanted you to leave India, your home? You couldn't, this was your mother's everything. All your belongings and memories are in Kolkata, how could you abandon that? But then you thought back to your mother. She wanted you to be happy, right? And maybe a new beginning wouldn't hurt. After sleeping about your father's letter you realised that a blank slate is exactly what you needed right now. Because you wanted to heal.
So you wrote your father another letter in which you agreed to move in with him and began to pack your bags. You carefully chose which of your mother's things you wanted to bring with you. Many of her clothes ended up in your luggage, her distinctive smell still lingering on the fabric. The two photo albums land in there too. How could you not, they kept all the beautiful pictures of your Momma. You also brought her favourite movies, some cooking books and lots of blankets.
Packing all these things was very hard for you and you lost a lot of tears, but now when you look at all of your bags you feel very accomplished. “I'll make you proud, Momma”, you whisper and grab the one of your stuffed furry toys that you did not put into a bag. It's a medicine bottle with huge eyes and a big smile, which your father gifted you for your third birthday. It's your favourite and you decided to keep it close by for emotional support.
With one last look you sit down on your old bed and wait for your ride. Bruce wrote you that someone from the agency he works for will come and get you. Now, all you have left to do is wait.
“Come on, Bruce. It will be fine. You're shakier than me when I've been running on coffee only”, Tony smirks and pats his friend on the back., “She's your daughter, she loves you”. Bruce looks up at him with wide, slightly red eyes, “Tony, her mother just died”. The news of Aarohi's death hit him hard. Ever since he had to leave India his mental health has been suffering.
The government didn't allow Bruce to leave the country without a written agreement signed by the president. He begged them to let him return to India, but they wouldn't budge. The only thing he achieved was tighter security to keep an eye on him. He doesn't remember how many nights he cried himself to sleep. He couldn't see the love of his life or his daughter. Never before has he felt that low, not when his father murdered his mother nor when he tried to commit suicide after turning into the monster he is, but he could not give up. He wanted to be a better father than his own, he wanted to make you feel loved and appreciated.
So he settled on writing letters to you and your mother. Nothing scared him more than the thought that you might forget him or worse, hate him for leaving. He wrote you letters every months and sent you presents he hoped you would like. His biggest wish was to be as present as possible throughout your life. The only replies were from Aarohi though. She reassured him that you still loved him and talked about her life and the clinic. He wished he could be there with her.
When he finally received a letter from you he was ecstatic, but as soon as he started to read, his face fell. The love of his life is dead. Gone. He sat in his lab in shock for two hours, not moving an inch until Tony entered the room. That's when he broke down crying into his best friend's arms, “She's dead, Tony”, he whispered through his tears.
It was the billionaire's idea to invite you to live in the tower, “I know you miss her. Plus I wouldn't mind having her here. Don't tell anyone I said that, but I'd love to see you smile more often”. This was like the light at the end of a tunnel for Bruce. The thought of having you with him made his heart beat faster. Could he finally become the father you deserved?
And you agreed to his proposal. He opened your letter together with Tony as emotional support and when he read your beautiful, neat handwriting tears of joy shot into his eyes, “She said yes, Tones, she actually wants to come!” and Tony was happy to hold Bruce once more as he let out all of his tears, the tension slowly leaving his body.
Now he is waiting for the Quinjet that carries Natasha and you to arrive back in New York. She volunteered to be the one to accompany you. Even though Bruce told her he wasn't holding any grudges, Natasha felt guilty for ripping Bruce out of his family, so when the chance opened to help reunite them,  she jumped at it.
“Tony”, Bruce asks, his voice wavering as if he's not sure whether or not to continue, “I'm scared, what if she doesn't li-” , but his best friend stops him, “Ah ah ah, no such negativity under my roof!” He pauses to glance at his surroundings, the wind howling around his ears, “or, you know, on my roof” Their eyes meet for a second, before Bruce goes back to rubbing his hands anxiously.
“Seriously Banner, you'll be fine. I've known you for sixteen years and I know that I have fallen in love with you at least three times”, the philanthropist says and smirks at the others shocked expression.
Before any of them can say another word the whirring of the Quinjet sounds from the distance. Bruce immediately straightens all colour draining from his face. A cold sweat is breaking out on his forehead and his hands become clammy. Tony leans forward and whispers gently, “You've got this, Banner”.
It feels like a lifetime, but also only a few seconds before the S.H.I.E.L.D plane lands on the roof and the motors slow down. Bruce holds his breath, scared, but hopeful. His life is about to change in just a few moments, for better or for worse. Nervously, his eyes focus on the exit of the Quinjet as he awaits to see you again, after sixteen years of missing you with all of his heart.
The electric sound of the gate opening makes his hands shake in anticipation. And then he sees you standing next to Natasha in all of your beauty. Your hair is pulled back into a braid which makes your eyes pop all pretty. A thin long sleeve and a pair of mum jeans hug your body nicely, yet you avoid to look into his eyes. Natasha and you both carry two suitcases each, but there are still some more bags on the plane.
The older woman gently nudges you forward with a smile to be encouraging. The cold New York air makes goosebumps rise on your arms and you shiver. This is it, you will finally meet your father. You swallow down your fear and move forward, eyes still trained on the floor. Natasha's footsteps are right behind yours which comforts you greatly. You've come to like her during the flight.
It's only when two pairs of shoes come into your vision that you stop dead in your tracks. The luggage that you've been carrying drop to the floor and you use all the courage you can muster to look up at your father, your heart beating loudly. Bruce looks as nervous as you feel, pale face and sweaty hands, but he puts on a brave face and forces a crooked grin to appear.
“Hey, shona”, he mouths your pet name. The look in his eyes is so hopeful it makes your heart churn. All the fear and anger you've carried with you is suddenly forgotten as tears collect in your eyes. The only thing you feel is the longing for your father's love that you've been deprived of for all these years. “Daddy?”,you whisper. As the words leave your mouth you start to run forwards, right towards Bruce.
He opens his arms right in time for you to fall into them, your face buried in his chest. Sobs leave your mouth as your tears stain his graphic tee, “I missed you so much”, you whimper and fist his jacket to pull him closer. He wraps his strong arms around you and carefully places his head onto yours, “I missed you too, shona, so much”. His voice breaks and a few tears begin to fall, some out of relief, some out of guilt.
The sound of your sobs and sniffles fill the silence. It's like a heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders. You were so scared to arrive in New York and how different things were going to be, but being in your father's embrace is all you needed. All this time you've been so occupied with being angry that you never realised how much you wanted any kind of fatherly love.
When you pull back to look into Bruce's eyes you stare into his red rimmed eyes, some single tears resting on his cheeks, “Y/n, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have returned home, but I had to sign these agreements and they wouldn't let me. I never forgot about you, shona. I love you so, so much”. His voice is shaky and rough and he reaches out to cup your face, his fingers wipe away your tears.
“It's okay”, you find yourself saying, “You're with me now, that's all that matters”
You both smile at each other, happiness radiating from you, when your moment is rudely interrupted. “I told you everything would be alright, Banner, Just shows you should listen to me more often”, Tony declares with a smirk to which Natasha responds with a warning glare. “Oh come on, Nat. I'm just joking”, he shouts before turning to you and winking obnoxiously.
“Y/n”, your father begins, “this is Tony, my, uh, best friend. This is his tower in which you'll be living with me. We have our own level”. Your eyes widen, “We have our own floor? That's insane!”
Tony laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder, “Of course, only the best for my science buddy and his daughter. If you have any questions, you may ask F.R.I.D.A.Y, she is an artificial intelligence built into the tower. She'll be available whenever”, he states, his eyes sparkling, “Isn't that right, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” The AI answers immediately,”Anytime, boss”.
Bruce smiles at you. His heart feels light and happy and he looks over to Natasha who gives him a thumbs up and a wink. “Dad?”, you ask him, shivering a little, “Can we go inside? I'm freezing”. “Of course”, Bruce nods eagerly, “let me just help with some of your bags”. Happily, he skips to the Quinjet to grab some of your luggage and hauls them over his shoulder. “Let's go, then”.
You walk behind your father, Natasha and Tony close by, as you take in the inside of the Avengers Tower. You can't believe your eyes: The sheer size of everything is overwhelming to you, but you're very excited. Meeting your father was scary, but now that the anxiety has fallen off of you, you're all blissed out and floaty.
The lift is very smooth, but the glass floor makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. Bruce notices your nervous shifting and slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him. Grateful for the warmth, you turn to him with a smile and mouth a thank you. In just a few seconds you've reached the right floor. Once all your bags are moved into your apartment, your father turns to his friends with a smile, “I think we've got it from here. Thank you, guys”
They nod at him and leave to give you two some privacy. “Do you want to see your room? We can unpack your things”, he asks, a nervous waver in his voice, “if you're okay with me helping, of course”. You take one of his hands in your own and grin, “I want you to be there with me. I spent so much time wishing you were home. I'm not letting you go any time soon”.
Hearing these words, he can't help but tear up, “I'm so happy you're here, shona. I wish your mother could have been with us too”. You release a shaky sigh and try to hold back tears of your own, “Me too, dad. Me too”. The feeling of being pulled into a hug by your father pulls you out of our head and you realise you started crying again. “I just miss her so much”, you sob into his chest.
A sniffles sounds from above you and you raise your head to see Bruce crying, “I'm sorry”, he whispers and wipes away some of his tears. “It's okay. At least I have you back now, daddy”. Gently, he cups your head and presses a kiss to your hair, “We've got this, shona. We're not alone anymore”, he tells you meaningfully, trying to convey that he meant what he said.
“Shona, I love you”
You breathe in and place his hand on your erratically beating heart.
“I love you too, daddy. So much”.
.
.
.
Taglist: @winteralpine @gotnofucks @lifeizlife
I’d appreciate some feedback and reblogs! That means the world to me :)
Be added to my tag list here :)
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historybeckons89 · 5 months ago
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This is the only story I've managed to complete so far, featuring original female characters. You can find it in the following link: http://www.academyofbards.org/fanfic/h/historybeckons_anindianodyssey1.html Synopsis as follows: 25 year old Dr. Sanaa Sharma was content to go along with her life following her parents' wishes for her until she met heiress and philanthropist Andrea Wittington. Little did she known that agreeing to chaperone the foreigner around India would change her life in more ways than one and open her eyes to the possibility of a fairytale love that she had never believed existed. But when outside influences put hurdles in her path, will she choose to fight the tempest or will she settle for whatever the easiest path offers…..
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clydethaoutlaw961 · 24 days ago
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Ms Marvel
Kamala Khan is a fictional superhero appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. Created by editors Sana Amanat and Stephen Wacker, writer G. Willow Wilson, and artists Adrian Alphona and Jamie McKelvie, Khan is Marvel's first Muslim character to headline her own comic book. Khan made her first appearance in Captain Marvel #14 (August 2013) before going on to star in the solo series Ms. Marvel, which debuted in February 2014.
Within the Marvel Universe, Khan is a teenage Pakistani American from Jersey City, New Jersey with shapeshifting abilities who discovers that she has Inhuman genes in the aftermath of the "Inhumanity" storyline and assumes the mantle of Ms. Marvel from her idol Carol Danvers after Danvers becomes Captain Marvel. Marvel's announcement that a Muslim character would headline a comic book drew widespread attention, and the first volume of Ms. Marvel won the Hugo Award for best graphic story in 2015.
Iman Vellani is set to portray Khan in the Marvel Cinematic Universe Disney+ series Ms. Marvel (2021) and the film The Marvels (2022). The character was voiced by Sandra Saad in the 2020 action-adventure video game Marvel's Avengers.
In November 2013, Marvel Comics announced that Kamala Khan, a teenage American Muslim from Jersey City, New Jersey, would take over the comic book series Ms. Marvel beginning in February 2014. The series, written by G. Willow Wilson and drawn by Adrian Alphona, marked the first time a Muslim character headlined a book at Marvel Comics. However, Noelene Clark of the Los Angeles Times noted that Khan is not the first Muslim character in comic books, which include Simon Baz, Dust and M. The conception of Kamala Khan came about during a conversation between Marvel editors Sana Amanat and Stephen Wacker. Amanat said, "I was telling him [Wacker] some crazy anecdote about my childhood, growing up as a Muslim American. He found it hilarious." The pair then told Wilson about the concept and Wilson became eager to jump aboard the project. Amanat said that the series came from a "desire to explore the Muslim-American diaspora from an authentic perspective."
Artist Jamie McKelvie based Khan's design on his redesign of Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel and on Dave Cockrum's design of the original Ms. Marvel. Amanat requested that the design "reflected the Captain Marvel legacy, and also her story and her background." Amanat stated that Khan's costume was influenced by the shalwar kameez. They wanted the costume to represent her cultural identity, but did not want her to wear a hijab, because the majority of teenage Pakistani-American girls do not wear one. Amanat also stated that they wanted the character to look "less like a sex siren" to appeal to a more vocal female readership.
Marvel knew that they wanted a young Muslim girl, but stated that she could be from any place of origin and have any background. Wilson initially considered making her an Arab girl from Dearborn, Michigan but ultimately chose to create a Desi girl from Jersey City. Jersey City, which sits across the Hudson River from Manhattan, has been referred to as New York City's "Sixth borough". It therefore forms an important part of Khan's identity and the narrative journey of her character since most of Marvel Comics' stories are set in Manhattan. Wilson explains, "A huge aspect of Ms. Marvel is being a 'second string hero' in the 'second string city' and having to struggle out of the pathos and emotion that can give a person."
The series not only explores Khan's conflicts with supervillains but also explores conflicts with Khan's home and religious duties. Wilson, a convert to Islam, said "This is not evangelism. It was really important for me to portray Kamala as someone who is struggling with her faith." Wilson continued, "Her brother is extremely conservative, her mom is paranoid that she's going to touch a boy and get pregnant, and her father wants her to concentrate on her studies and become a doctor." Amanat added,
As much as Islam is a part of Kamala's identity, this book isn't preaching about religion or the Islamic faith in particular. It's about what happens when you struggle with the labels imposed on you, and how that forms your sense of self. It's a struggle we've all faced in one form or another, and isn't just particular to Kamala because she's Muslim. Her religion is just one aspect of the many ways she defines herself.
In the series, Khan takes the name Ms. Marvel from Carol Danvers, who now goes by the alias Captain Marvel. Captain Marvel writer Kelly Sue DeConnick revealed that Khan actually made a brief appearance in Captain Marvel #14 (August 2013) saying, "Kamala is in the background of a scene in Captain Marvel 14 ... She is very deliberately placed in a position where she sees Carol protecting civilians from Yon-Rogg." According to Wilson, Khan idolizes Carol so when Khan acquires superhuman abilities, she emulates Danvers. "Captain Marvel represents an ideal that Kamala pines for. She's strong, beautiful and doesn't have any of the baggage of being Pakistani and 'different,'' Wilson explained. "Khan is a big comic book fan and after she discovers her superhuman power – being a polymorph and able to lengthen her arms and legs and change her shape – she takes on the name of Ms. Marvel," Amanat elaborated.[16] Khan is one of several characters who discover that they have Inhuman heritage following the "Inhumanity" storyline, in which the Terrigen Mists are released throughout the world and activate dormant Inhuman cells.
In the series' first story arc, Khan faces off against Mr. Edison / the Inventor, an amalgam of man and bird. Wilson created the Inventor to be Khan's first arch rival in order to mirror Khan's own complexity. Wilson characterizes the Inventor, and the overall visual look of the opening story arc as "kooky and almost Miyazaki-esque at times", owing to the art style of illustrator Adrian Alphona, which balances the drama of the threats which Khan faces with the humor of Alphona's "tongue in cheek sight gags." During the storyline, Khan also teams-up with the X-Man Wolverine against the Inventor. Because Wolverine is dealing with the loss of his healing factor during this time, Khan is placed in the position of having to shoulder much of the responsibilities, as Wilson felt this was a role reversal that would subvert reader expectations that Wolverine would take the lead in such a team-up.
At the 2014 San Diego Comic-Con International, writer Dan Slott announced that Khan would team-up with Spider-Man beginning in The Amazing Spider-Man #7 (October 2014) during the "Spider-Verse" storyline. Slott characterized Khan "the closest character to classic Peter Parker," explaining, "She's a teenage superhero, juggling her life, making mistakes, trying to do everything right."
Beginning in June 2015, Ms. Marvel tied into the "Secret Wars" crossover event with the "Last Days" storyline, which details Khan's account of the end of the Marvel Universe. Wilson explained, "In the 'Last Days' story arc, Kamala has to grapple with the end of everything she knows, and discover what it means to be a hero when your whole world is on the line." In the storyline, Khan rushes to deal with the threat in Manhattan. However, Wilson revealed, "She will face a very personal enemy as the chaos in Manhattan spills over into Jersey City, and she will be forced to make some very difficult choices. There will also be a very special guest appearance by a superhero Kamala—and the fans—have been waiting to meet for a long time."
In March 2015, Marvel announced that Khan will join the Avengers in All-New All-Different Avengers FCBD (May 2015) by writer Mark Waid and artists Adam Kubert and Mahmud Asrar, which takes place in the aftermath of "Secret Wars". A second volume of Ms. Marvel starring Khan by Wilson, Alphona and Takeshi Miyazawa is also debuted following "Secret Wars" as part of Marvel's All-New, All-Different Marvel initiative. Amanat said,
By the time this new launch comes around, it will have been almost two years since the premiere of Ms. Marvel—and boy, has Kamala Khan been through a lot since then. She's been slowly coming into her own, dealing with the challenges of navigating adulthood and being a super hero. But her training is over now and it's time for the big leagues; the question is can she handle it? ... As much as Kamala has a right to be there—it's still a bit of a culture shock. Dreaming of being an Avenger and then suddenly being one is a lot to take on for someone of her age. So, she'll be a little awestruck, a little overly ambitious.
In March 2016, Marvel announced that Ms. Marvel would tie into the "Civil War II" storyline by releasing a promotional image illustrating a rift between Khan and Danvers. "While "Civil War II" may have initiated this rift, we've known for some time that Kamala would eventually need to separate herself from her idols. Her journey centers around self-discovery and identity, and a part of that exploration includes separating yourself from those you put on pedestals. The rift between Carol and Kamala doesn't really have to do with right and wrong. It has to do with growing up and realizing that you perceive the world differently from even the ones you love," Amanat elaborated.
In July, Marvel announced that Khan will join the Champions, a team of teenage superheroes who split off from the Avengers following the conclusion of "Civil War II". The team, featured in a series by writer Mark Waid and artist Humberto Ramos, consists of Khan, Spider-Man (Miles Morales), Nova (Sam Alexander), Hulk (Amadeus Cho), Viv Vision, and a teenage version of Cyclops. Waid said, "The first three are the kids who quit the Avengers proper. That was an easy get. Those three, in and of themselves, form a nice little subteam. Their dynamic is great. They all show up in each other's books, and even though they have their arguments and stress points, clearly they're good together."
In August, Khan made an appearance in Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #10 by writers Amy Reeder and Brandon Montclare. In the issue, Khan acts as a mentor to Moon Girl (Lunella Lafayette) who is also a young Inhuman that suddenly came into her powers. Amanat stated that Khan sees much of herself in Lafayette and by teaching her, Khan learns much about herself.
In November, Marvel announced that Khan will join a new incarnation of the Secret Warriors in a series by writer Matthew Rosenberg and artist Javier Garron that debuted in May 2017. The team, formed in the wake of the "Inhumans vs X-Men" storyline, also includes Quake, Karnak, Moon Girl, and Devil Dinosaur. Rosenberg stated that there is some conflict and friction amongst the team members explaining, "Ms. Marvel and Quake are really fighting for the soul of the team in a lot of ways, while Moon Girl will continue to really do her own thing. They will all be tested and challenged, they are superheroes after all, but they are going to do things their way."
In March 2017, Marvel announced that Khan would team-up with Danvers in a one-shot issue of the limited anthology series, Generations by Wilson and Paolo Villanelle. Wilson stated that the issue would explore Danvers' and Khan's mentor–student relationship, but "at its heart, it is about growing up, and a big part of growing up is discovering that your idols have feet of clay – and forgiving them for their flaws as you gain an adult understanding of your own."
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In December, Ms. Marvel began the "Teenage Wasteland" story arc, as part of the Marvel Legacy relaunch. Wilson said, "Since the events of 'Civil War II', there's been friction between Kamala and her mentor, Captain Marvel. In this arc, we're exploring how complicated legacies can be when they're passed from generation to generation ... She's questioning a lot about herself and her mission. Her friends end up stepping into some very important—and unexpected—roles. So in a sense, the arc is really about a bunch of chronically under-estimated teenagers who pull together to fight evil."
Ms. Marvel #31, the 50th issue of Ms. Marvel featuring Khan was released in June 2018. To mark the occasion, Marvel brought in additional collaborators for the issue including writers: G. Willow Wilson, Saladin Ahmed, Rainbow Rowell, and Hasan Minhaj; and artists: Nico Leon, Bob Quinn, Gustavo Duarte, and Elmo Bondoc.
Beginning in March 2019, Khan headlined a new series titled, The Magnificent Ms. Marvel, written by Ahmed and illustrated by Minkyu Jung. Wilson stated that she had been planning her departure from the series for over a year, stating that she originally anticipated that the series would only last for ten issues and was excited by the fact that she had written 60 issues. Ahmed said the new series will have much wider scope, "while still maintaining that intimate tone that people have loved about it."
In July 2020, Marvel announced that Khan would star in an original graphic novel, published in conjunction with Scholastic and aimed at younger readers. Titled Ms. Marvel: Stretched Thin, the book will be written by author Nadia Shammas and illustrated by Nabi H. Ali. It is set for release on September 7, 2021.
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multiverseforger · a month ago
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Edit
In November 2013, Marvel Comics announced that Kamala Khan, a teenage American Muslim from Jersey City, New Jersey, would take over the comic book series Ms. Marvel beginning in February 2014. The series, written by G. Willow Wilson and drawn by Adrian Alphona, marked the first time a Muslim character headlined a book at Marvel Comics.[2] However, Noelene Clark of the Los Angeles Times noted that Khan is not the first Muslim character in comic books, which include Simon Baz, Dust and M.[3] The conception of Kamala Khan came about during a conversation between Marvel editors Sana Amanat and Stephen Wacker. Amanat said, "I was telling him [Wacker] some crazy anecdote about my childhood, growing up as a Muslim American. He found it hilarious." The pair then told Wilson about the concept and Wilson became eager to jump aboard the project.[4] Amanat said that the series came from a "desire to explore the Muslim-American diaspora from an authentic perspective."[5]
Artist Jamie McKelvie based Khan's design on his redesign of Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel and on Dave Cockrum's design of the original Ms. Marvel.[6] Amanat requested that the design "reflected the Captain Marvel legacy, and also her story and her background."[7] Amanat stated that Khan's costume was influenced by the shalwar kameez. They wanted the costume to represent her cultural identity, but did not want her to wear a hijab,[8] because the majority of teenage Pakistani-American girls do not wear one.[9] Amanat also stated that they wanted the character to look "less like a sex siren" to appeal to a more vocal female readership.[8]
Marvel knew that they wanted a young Muslim girl, but stated that she could be from any place of origin and have any background. Wilson initially considered making her an Arab girl from Dearborn, Michigan but ultimately chose to create a Desi girl from Jersey City.[10] Jersey City, which sits across the Hudson River from Manhattan, has been referred to as New York City's "Sixth borough".[11][12][13] It therefore forms an important part of Khan's identity and the narrative journey of her character since most of Marvel Comics' stories are set in Manhattan. Wilson explains, "A huge aspect of Ms. Marvel is being a 'second string hero' in the 'second string city' and having to struggle out of the pathos and emotion that can give a person."[14]
The series not only explores Khan's conflicts with supervillains but also explores conflicts with Khan's home and religious duties. Wilson, a convert to Islam, said "This is not evangelism. It was really important for me to portray Kamala as someone who is struggling with her faith." Wilson continued, "Her brother is extremely conservative, her mom is paranoid that she's going to touch a boy and get pregnant, and her father wants her to concentrate on her studies and become a doctor."[4] Amanat added,
As much as Islam is a part of Kamala's identity, this book isn't preaching about religion or the Islamic faith in particular. It's about what happens when you struggle with the labels imposed on you, and how that forms your sense of self. It's a struggle we've all faced in one form or another, and isn't just particular to Kamala because she's Muslim. Her religion is just one aspect of the many ways she defines herself.[2]
First appearance of Kamala Khan from Captain Marvel #14 (August 2013) by Kelly Sue DeConnick and Scott Hepburn
In the series, Khan takes the name Ms. Marvel from Carol Danvers, who now goes by the alias Captain Marvel. Captain Marvel writer Kelly Sue DeConnick revealed that Khan actually made a brief appearance in Captain Marvel #14 (August 2013) saying, "Kamala is in the background of a scene in Captain Marvel 14 ... She is very deliberately placed in a position where she sees Carol protecting civilians from Yon-Rogg."[15] According to Wilson, Khan idolizes Carol so when Khan acquires superhuman abilities, she emulates Danvers.[14] "Captain Marvel represents an ideal that Kamala pines for. She's strong, beautiful and doesn't have any of the baggage of being Pakistani and 'different,'"[4] Wilson explained. "Khan is a big comic book fan and after she discovers her superhuman power – being a polymorph and able to lengthen her arms and legs and change her shape – she takes on the name of Ms. Marvel," Amanat elaborated.[16] Khan is one of several characters who discover that they have Inhuman heritage following the "Inhumanity" storyline, in which the Terrigen Mists are released throughout the world and activate dormant Inhuman cells.[17]
In the series' first story arc, Khan faces off against Mr. Edison / the Inventor, an amalgam of man and bird. Wilson created the Inventor to be Khan's first arch rival in order to mirror Khan's own complexity. Wilson characterizes the Inventor, and the overall visual look of the opening story arc as "kooky and almost Miyazaki-esque at times", owing to the art style of illustrator Adrian Alphona, which balances the drama of the threats which Khan faces with the humor of Alphona's "tongue in cheek sight gags." During the storyline, Khan also teams-up with the X-Man Wolverine against the Inventor. Because Wolverine is dealing with the loss of his healing factor during this time, Khan is placed in the position of having to shoulder much of the responsibilities, as Wilson felt this was a role reversal that would subvert reader expectations that Wolverine would take the lead in such a team-up.[18]
At the 2014 San Diego Comic-Con International, writer Dan Slott announced that Khan would team-up with Spider-Man beginning in The Amazing Spider-Man #7 (October 2014) during the "Spider-Verse" storyline. Slott characterized Khan "the closest character to classic Peter Parker,"[19] explaining, "She's a teenage superhero, juggling her life, making mistakes, trying to do everything right."[20]
Beginning in June 2015, Ms. Marvel tied into the "Secret Wars" crossover event with the "Last Days" storyline, which details Khan's account of the end of the Marvel Universe. Wilson explained, "In the 'Last Days' story arc, Kamala has to grapple with the end of everything she knows, and discover what it means to be a hero when your whole world is on the line."[21] In the storyline, Khan rushes to deal with the threat in Manhattan. However, Wilson revealed, "She will face a very personal enemy as the chaos in Manhattan spills over into Jersey City, and she will be forced to make some very difficult choices. There will also be a very special guest appearance by a superhero Kamala—and the fans—have been waiting to meet for a long time."[22]
In March 2015, Marvel announced that Khan will join the Avengers in All-New All-Different Avengers FCBD (May 2015) by writer Mark Waid and artists Adam Kubert and Mahmud Asrar, which takes place in the aftermath of "Secret Wars".[23] A second volume of Ms. Marvel starring Khan by Wilson, Alphona and Takeshi Miyazawa is also debuted following "Secret Wars" as part of Marvel's All-New, All-Different Marvel initiative.[24] Amanat said,
By the time this new launch comes around, it will have been almost two years since the premiere of Ms. Marvel—and boy, has Kamala Khan been through a lot since then. She's been slowly coming into her own, dealing with the challenges of navigating adulthood and being a super hero. But her training is over now and it's time for the big leagues; the question is can she handle it? ... As much as Kamala has a right to be there—it's still a bit of a culture shock. Dreaming of being an Avenger and then suddenly being one is a lot to take on for someone of her age. So, she'll be a little awestruck, a little overly ambitious.[25]
In March 2016, Marvel announced that Ms. Marvel would tie into the "Civil War II" storyline by releasing a promotional image illustrating a rift between Khan and Danvers.[26] "While "Civil War II" may have initiated this rift, we've known for some time that Kamala would eventually need to separate herself from her idols. Her journey centers around self-discovery and identity, and a part of that exploration includes separating yourself from those you put on pedestals. The rift between Carol and Kamala doesn't really have to do with right and wrong. It has to do with growing up and realizing that you perceive the world differently from even the ones you love," Amanat elaborated.[27]
In July, Marvel announced that Khan will join the Champions, a team of teenage superheroes who split off from the Avengers following the conclusion of "Civil War II". The team, featured in a series by writer Mark Waid and artist Humberto Ramos, consists of Khan, Spider-Man (Miles Morales), Nova (Sam Alexander), Hulk (Amadeus Cho), Viv Vision, and a teenage version of Cyclops. Waid said, "The first three are the kids who quit the Avengers proper. That was an easy get. Those three, in and of themselves, form a nice little subteam. Their dynamic is great. They all show up in each other's books, and even though they have their arguments and stress points, clearly they're good together."[28]
In August, Khan made an appearance in Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #10 by writers Amy Reeder and Brandon Montclare. In the issue, Khan acts as a mentor to Moon Girl (Lunella Lafayette) who is also a young Inhuman that suddenly came into her powers. Amanat stated that Khan sees much of herself in Lafayette and by teaching her, Khan learns much about herself.[27]
In November, Marvel announced that Khan will join a new incarnation of the Secret Warriors in a series by writer Matthew Rosenberg and artist Javier Garron that debuted in May 2017. The team, formed in the wake of the "Inhumans vs X-Men" storyline, also includes Quake, Karnak, Moon Girl, and Devil Dinosaur. Rosenberg stated that there is some conflict and friction amongst the team members explaining, "Ms. Marvel and Quake are really fighting for the soul of the team in a lot of ways, while Moon Girl will continue to really do her own thing. They will all be tested and challenged, they are superheroes after all, but they are going to do things their way."[29]
In March 2017, Marvel announced that Khan would team-up with Danvers in a one-shot issue of the limited anthology series, Generations by Wilson and Paolo Villanelle. Wilson stated that the issue would explore Danvers' and Khan's mentor–student relationship, but "at its heart, [it] is about growing up, and a big part of growing up is discovering that your idols have feet of clay – and forgiving them for their flaws as you gain an adult understanding of your own."[30]
In December, Ms. Marvel began the "Teenage Wasteland" story arc, as part of the Marvel Legacy relaunch. Wilson said, "Since the events of 'Civil War II', there's been friction between Kamala and her mentor, Captain Marvel. In this arc, we're exploring how complicated legacies can be when they're passed from generation to generation ... She's questioning a lot about herself and her mission. Her friends end up stepping into some very important—and unexpected—roles. So in a sense, the arc is really about a bunch of chronically under-estimated teenagers who pull together to fight evil."[31]
Ms. Marvel #31, the 50th issue of Ms. Marvel featuring Khan was released in June 2018. To mark the occasion, Marvel brought in additional collaborators for the issue including writers: G. Willow Wilson, Saladin Ahmed, Rainbow Rowell, and Hasan Minhaj; and artists: Nico Leon, Bob Quinn, Gustavo Duarte, and Elmo Bondoc.[32]
Beginning in March 2019, Khan headlined a new series titled, The Magnificent Ms. Marvel, written by Ahmed and illustrated by Minkyu Jung. Wilson stated that she had been planning her departure from the series for over a year, stating that she originally anticipated that the series would only last for ten issues and was excited by the fact that she had written 60 issues. Ahmed said the new series will have much wider scope, "while still maintaining that intimate tone that people have loved about it."[33]
In July 2020, Marvel announced that Khan would star in an original graphic novel, published in conjunction with Scholastic and aimed at younger readers. The book will be written by author Nadia Shammas. An illustrator has not yet been named.[34
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emachinescat · a month ago
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Let's Save Our Shows - The Ultimate MacGyver/JATP Team-Up!
This post is for fans of my two current favorite shows, both of which are in some kind of danger of not being renewed.  Both shows have petitions for renewal, and both shows, though different thematically, are full of amazing representation, have a passionate and talented cast who wants to keep going, and are backed by insanely loyal fans.  These shows are, of course, MacGyver and Julie and the Phantoms. Please, please, if you sign one - or both - of these petitions, or if you already have, REBLOG. Liking does nothing. The only way we will be able to get the word out and save our shows is by reblogging, sharing with others!
For my MacGyver peeps!
If you're not familiar with Julie and the Phantoms, let me catch you up!  This show, a Netflix original, is based on a Brazilian TV show called Julia y Los Fantasmos.  It's about a teenage girl, Julie, who quits music after her mom's death, but when she accidentally summons the ghosts of a band from 1995, these boys - Luke, Alex, and Reggie - help her find her love for music again.  It's crazy, it's sweet, it's romantic, it’s heartbreaking, it’s funny, it's musical, and it has so much heart.  But it also has so. much. representation.  And you know how much we MacGyver fans love representation!
So Julie is played by the gorgeous and stupidly talented Madison Reyes, a Puerto Rican-American teenager whose voice could level mountains.  But not only do we get a Latinx lead, but we also get to see her family - her amazing papá, her brother Carlos, and her tía! Another of the main characters, Alex (the purest and most relatable character on the show IMO) is not only gay, but he gets an actual love interest and he and Willie make the CUTEST INTERRACIAL GAY COUPLE I’ve ever seen!  Plus, Julie’s best friend Flynn is black, and the background characters are super diverse as well.
And the other characters - Luke, Reggie, Carrie, Bobby, Nick, Caleb - are all so colorful and interesting, too!  It’s just.. perfection.  And, well, season 1 premiered 8 months ago and still no peep of a renewal, never mind the fact that the show blew up and also won the Rotten Tomatoes Golden Tomato Award.  JATP fans have started a petition to have the show renewed.  Please, MacGyver friends, take a couple of seconds out of your day to sign this petition, even if you don't watch the show yourself, it would mean the world to us! Heck, why not sign and then watch the show? It's so worth it! :)
For my Julie and the Phantoms friends!
If you're not familiar with MacGyver, it's a reboot of the campy 80s action show by the same name. It's about a young man named Angus MacGyver who can make anything out of practically nothing, and has also worked as an expert EOD tech disarming bombs for the army. He now works for a clandestine organization called the Phoenix Foundation, saving the world one gadget at a time with his amazing team of fellow spies! I've bragged about how diverse JATP is - now it's time for me to brag about MacGyver!
To give you a bit of background, recently, one of the lead actors, Lucas Till, who plays MacGyver (you might recognize him from The Hannah Montana Movie), risked his career reporting an abusive showrunner to CBS. The showrunner was fired (though only after Till reported him several times), and the show just THIS SEASON replaced him with a woman of color showrunner, very rare in the television industry, especially in networks like CBS. That's a HUGE step. The show also just cast a black trans woman as a recurring character (a badass one at that)! CBS gave this black showrunner and black trans woman not even a full season to shine before canceling the show. That does not sit well with us.
So we've got Monica, our WOC showrunner. Then in our cast we have Parker, the super smart black trans agent with a master's degree. There's Riley, whose actress Tristin Mayes is black, Native American, and Creole, who is a super smart and badass hacker. Then there's Bozer, Mac's black best friend and biggest supporter - and an amazing character in his own right. There's Matty, the no-nonsense "mom" of the Team who runs the ops, kicks ass, and takes names, and who also has dwarfism. There's Desi, a Vietnamese-American badass (I know I keep using that word, but it's so true!) who protects the team and beats up bad guys. Russ is British, but he's got Peruvian and Scottish ancestry, which the show plays into!
And this show speaks out about major, important social issues including environmentalism, BLM, and more. And Mac himself is a cinnamon roll of an individual, and his best friend/partner for the first 3.5 seasons, Jack, is one of the most entertaining characters in media. There's also been a host of other characters on the show, but I went over the main ones. This show is DIVERSE.
Like I said, CBS canceled this show despite its high ratings, many viewers, and passionate fans and cast. CBS is also actively ignoring any campaigns to save the show. So if you would please take a moment, even if you don't watch the show, to sign this petition, it would mean the world to us MacGyver fans who are so ardently fighting the uphill battle to save our show!
Okay, so, can we do this? Can MacGyver fans take less than a minute out of their day and sign the JATP petition? And can JATP fans take less than a minute out of their day and sign the MacGyver petition? Last I checked, the JAPT petition had over 80k signatures, and the MacGyver petition had nearly 18.5k. Can we band together to save our shows? https://www.change.org/p/cbs-save-macgyver
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