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pers-books · 5 months

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WARNING: Contains SPOILERS for Doctor Who - "The Giggle."

SUMMARY

Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special sets up a potential spinoff show featuring UNIT on Disney+.

The new UNIT team in "The Giggle" showcases a strong camaraderie and dynamic, laying the groundwork for future appearances and a possible spinoff.

The introduction of the Vlinx, a new robot working for UNIT, hints at potential backstory and teases a potential UNIT show on Disney+.

Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special, "The Giggle" has set up the rumored UNIT spinoff show on Disney+ in multiple ways. Now installed in a flashy new skyscraper in central London, UNIT recall the Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant) to help them stop the world from going mad. Although the main draw of "The Giggle" is the battle between the Doctor and the Toymaker (Neil Patrick Harris), there's a sense that it's setting up a future UNIT spinoff. Doctor Who spinoffs on Disney+ have been heavily rumored since the co-production deal was announced. The new Whoniverse title also implies that Doctor Who will have its own expansive fictional universe.

Doctor Who's rumored UNIT spinoff would be led by Jemma Redgrave's Kate Stewart, the daughter of Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart (Nicholas Courtney). Following on from the reveal in "The Power of the Doctor" that UNIT hires former Doctor Who companions as freelancers, it's expected that some classic series actors will reprise their roles. "The Giggle" outlines the structure of the new UNIT, which gives the sense of Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special being a backdoor pilot for a new spinoff.

8 UNIT's Brand New Headquarters

It looks a lot like the Avengers Tower.

Doctor Who's UNIT have never had the best of luck with their HQs in the modern series. Their New York HQ and the Valiant were devastated by the Daleks in "The Stolen Earth", their presidential plane was blown up by Zygons in "The Zygon Invasion", and their brand-new building was blown up by Tegan Jovanka (Jane Fielding) in "The Power of the Doctor." The biggest surprise of "The Giggle" is that the UNIT skyscraper largely remains standing after their confrontation with the Toymaker. Giving UNIT a permanent base of operations does feel like a way to establish the Doctor Who spinoff show's primary location.

7 The Dynamic Between The New UNIT Team

Doctor Who's new UNIT work brilliantly together.

In the 1970s, Doctor Who had the UNIT family, so-called because of the warm relationships between the Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee), his companions and the UNIT team. There's a sense of this camaraderie in "The Giggle", with Shirley Anne Bingham (Ruth Madeley) quickly forgiving Kate for her ableist abuse while under the influence of the Toymaker. This is clearly a team that trusts each other implicitly, much like the UNIT team of old. A strong central team structure is a strong foundation for their future appearances in Doctor Who, but it also guarantees good grounding for a spinoff show.

6 The Vlinx

What's going on with UNIT's new robot?

The Vlinx (Nicholas Briggs) feels like the most obvious bit of set up for Doctor Who's UNIT spinoff. There must be many stories to tell about how the Vlinx came to Earth and began working for UNIT. They appear to be a robotic version of James Bond's Q, providing UNIT with gadgets and technology to meet alien threats. The Vlinx invented the Zeedex that shielded UNIT from the effects of "The Giggle", and would presumably fulfill a similar purpose in future appearances. Doctor Who's new robot also draws comparisons with Mr. Smith (Alexander Armstrong) from Russell T Davies' previous spinoff show, The Sarah Jane Adventures, further teasing a potential UNIT show.

5 The Galvanic Beam

UNIT is sufficiently tooled up to fight alien threats.

The galvanic beam that triggered Doctor Who's first bi-generation is more evidence of the substantial tools that UNIT have at their disposal. Way back in David Tennant's first-ever episode, "The Christmas Invasion", the Torchwood Institute had a similarly powerful weapon trained on the Sycorax spaceship. The reveals about Torchwood recurred throughout David Tennant's first Doctor Who season, culminating in their introduction in the season 2 finale and the eventual John Barrowman-led spinoff. It's possible that the galvanic beam is a subtle callback, with future UNIT episodes in Ncuti Gatwa's era eventually paving the way for a full series order for a UNIT spinoff on Disney+.

4 UNIT Offers Donna A Job

Could Catherine Tate come back in a spinoff show?

Donna brilliantly figures out that the brain signal resembles a tune, eventually inspiring the Doctor to recognize that it's the giggle of Stooky Bill stored in broadcast signals. The super temp from Chiswick impresses Kate Stewart so much that she offers Donna a job with a generous pay package and benefits. Donna doesn't explicitly accept the job on-screen, but the money will give her cash-strapped family the chance to relax more. Interestingly, Yasmin Finney is said to return for Ncuti Gatwa's first season of Doctor Who, perhaps interning for UNIT. If Donna's daughter is still in the new era of Doctor Who, then it's easy enough for her to pop up in a UNIT spinoff in a special guest role.

3 Doctor Who's Mel Now Works For UNIT

The 1980s companion will be back next season, too.

Kate Stewart fulfilled her promise to the Doctor Who companion support group by hiring Mel as a computer expert for UNIT. If Russell T Davies is repeating some of his past glories, he could do a lot worse than put Bonnie Langford front and center in her own show. That's what he did with Elisabeth Sladen and The Sarah Jane Adventures in 2006, so it would make a lot of sense to do the same with Langford. While Mel was a divisive Doctor Who companion, Bonnie Langford is an excellent actress with a big public profile thanks to her West End and Broadway experience. There could be nobody better to lead the UNIT spinoff alongside Jemma Redgrave.

2 UNIT Are Hiring Former Doctor Who Companions

It's not just Donna and Mel.

While executive producing The Sarah Jane Adventures, Russell T Davies brought back both the Brigadier and Jo Grant (Katy Manning). He also planned to bring back Sophie Aldred as Ace, had Elisabeth Sladen not sadly passed away before filming on season 5 completed. RTD clearly doesn't want to crowd the new show with old faces, and that's the right decision as Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor Who is being billed as a fresh start. However, with Mel, Tegan, Ace, and potentially Donna Noble on the payroll, there's a real possibility that other classic Doctor Who companions will be brought into a UNIT spinoff show to provide their own unique expertise.

1 UNIT Has An Earthbound Doctor Again

David Tennant's 14th Doctor remains on Earth.

50 years after the Third Doctor's exile to Earth ended, the Fourteenth Doctor's is just beginning. While this is a self-imposed exile designed to give the Doctor time to rest, reflect, and enjoy a normal life, UNIT will be reassured to know they've got him on speed dial. Russell T Davies making the decision to keep around David Tennant after Doctor Who feels like a calculated move to bring back the Fourteenth Doctor when the story demands it. Having the retired Fourteenth Doctor occasionally feature as an advisory figure in the new UNIT spinoff could provide an interesting new spin on Doctor Who tropes that wouldn't undermine his heartwarming happy ending.

#Doctor Who #UNIT #News and Speculation #Kate Stewart #Donna Noble #Melanie Bush #TenTooMany #Fourteenth Doctor

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kaibutsushidousha · 3 months

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Based on what you said in your answer here ( https://kaibutsushidousha.tumblr. com/post/729818007900176384/how-do-you-feel-so-far-about-mahoyo-and-what-do) do you mind explaining the various theories you have for the two mahoyo sequels ?

It's not really "various". I just have a generic picture for the structure of the trilogy.

Game 2

Anyone Can Sleep But Not Laugh is set after Mahoyo 2, so we already have a lot of information on things that happen there. We know that the main conflict is set in Summer 1990, Riddell will be the antagonist, she will be temporarily living in Tobimaru's place, and Tobimaru will break his arm rescuing Kumari in the climax.

So my expectation for Mahoyo 2 is major character focus on Alice and the ultimate conflict between Alice and Riddell. That much I can say it's pretty obvious and everyone is expecting.

My more possibly original and unique guess is that the climax will involve Riddell killing Soujuurou. He dies, the world processes his death, and handles it as a glitch. Soujuurou can't possibly be dead, his death is an event set for x billions years in the future. It's like how Ciel (Roa) can't be dead because Roa is confirmed alive. He's immediately patched back to life.

He's obviously not happy with that. His immediate first reaction to being revived was trying to die again before Alice stopped him. It's not natural. People die when they are killed, that's the way things are meant to be. And that sets up the conflict for the last game.

Game 3

The story starts as a search for a solution to Soujuurou's immortality situation. The girls will go to London, reencounter Touko and Riddell in the Clock Tower, and deal with the Sealing Designation procedures Sanda alluded to before. They find what they need, and that's where the finale truly starts.

As alluded to in their first battle, the final conflict of Mahoyo is Aoko vs Alice, presumably both with magic. A conflict over Soujuurou's fate. The culmination of what the characters were built up to be.

Soujuurou is someone selfless, attuned to nature, has a desire to be integrated with society, and takes Aoko as an ideal role model. Soujuurou is someone who would do what is right instead of celebrating unfair advantages. He wouldn't be okay with being removed from the cycle of life. His ultimate motivation is to die a normal human death, like any other person would.

Aoko would not want Soujuurou to die but she's an uptight woman of responsibility. She can't allow anything wrong to stick for her personal benefit. Doubly so when it's entirely her fault that this is happening to him. She never used her magic before Soujuurou's reveal because of her crippling fear of responsibility, so now that she did, she wouldn't allow her to be sloppy about the consequences of her actions. Aoko's ultimate motivation will be giving Soujuurou the death he wants.

Alice would not want Soujuurou to die, and she's characterized mainly by the emotional scars of loss that she suffered as an individual (her parents) and the witches suffered as a species (modernization framed as mankind's predation of nature). Her mage philosophies are intensely focused on the aspect of preserving the past and that is reflected in her private behavior. She's possessive of her belongings and deeply grudgeful when they are stolen or broken. Character Material 2006 outright describes her as a yandere. Alice's ultimate motivation will be preserving Soujuurou's immortality.

Who wins? I'm completely betting on Aoko. Respecting Soujuurou's autonomy feels like the thematically correct answer. There's also Aoko's route in Type-Lumina, where her promise to never allow civilians to be collateral damage in her destruction sounds like a promise to a dead person, and it ends with her thinking about inviting Alice to the beach but never considers inviting Soujuurou. I don't think my boy is alive past 1990, and honestly, I don't want him to be.

#type moon #mahoutsukai no yoru #aozaki aoko #kuonji alice #shizuki soujuurou

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thethirdromana · 1 year

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The many, many references of chapter XI of Dorian Gray

This chapter can come across as a bit of a long, boring list of stuff. That's partly because it is a long, boring list of stuff, as we see how shallow Dorian's life of collecting trinkets and misdeeds is, compared with his lofty ambitions to be some kind of thought-leader of his age.

But it's Wilde, so a lot of this chapter has references and connotations that might not be obvious.

the sordid room of the little ill-famed tavern near the docks OK, this isn't particularly subtle given Wilde already tells us it's sordid and ill-famed. But it's probably not just a dodgy pub. Being near the docks implies that Dorian is hanging out with people in the lower classes, almost certainly including sex workers. I think there might also be a nudge-nudge wink-wink implication of homosexuality here - docks mean sailors, and the navy already had a reputation for homosexuality in Wilde's time.

Like Gautier, he was one for whom “the visible world existed.” Théophile Gautier, a French writer, critic and defender of Romanticism. He was flamboyant, unconventional and had lots of affairs.

he might really become to the London of his own day what to imperial Neronian Rome the author of the Satyricon once had been The author of the Satyricon is Petronius, a Roman courtier in the reign of Nero. He was dedicated to a life of pleasure and indulgence, and was an authority on questions of fashion and taste.

the materialistic doctrines of the Darwinismus movement in Germany Darwinismus means proto-eugenics, essentially. You know, in case you needed any more reasons to dislike Dorian.

the one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortes into the Mexican temple, and of whose doleful sound he has left us so vivid a description "They had an exceedingly large drum there, and when they beat it the sound of it was so dismal and like, so to say, an instrument of the infernal regions, that one could hear it a distance of two leagues, and they said that the skins it was covered with were of those great snakes." Wouldn't say it was that vivid a description, to be honest.

appeared at a costume ball as Anne de Joyeuse, Admiral of France, in a dress covered with five hundred and sixty pearls Despite how this sounds, Anne de Joyeuse was a man, and Dorian didn't go to the ball in drag. Anne de Joyeuse was probably one of Henry III's lovers. (This is the start of a theme developing).

Alexander, the Conqueror of Emathia This is Alexander the Great. (The theme continues).

Lodge’s strange romance ‘A Margarite of America’ A 16th century romance about the love affair between a Peruvian prince and a Russian princess. With a lot of gory bits.

the Duke de Valentinois, son of Alexander VI Otherwise known as Cesare Borgia, who inspired Machiavelli to write The Prince. There are all sorts of rumours about Cesare Borgia, ranging from having lots of mistresses (true) to gay relationships and incest with his sister (probably not true).

Charles of England had ridden in stirrups hung with four hundred and twenty-one diamonds This is presumably Charles I rather than Charles II (who was also Charles of England). Historic Royal Palaces - the people who run the Tower of London, among others - have him on their list of LGBT+ monarchs. They highlight this painting, where he's gazing at George Villiers, who also shagged his dad:

Richard II had a coat, valued at thirty thousand marks, which was covered with balas rubies Richard II, who was rumoured to have had an affair with Richard de Vere, Earl of Oxford.

Henry VIII Who only had relationships with women, as far as history is aware.

The favourites of James I wore ear-rings of emeralds set in gold filigrane Back on the theme again. James I was Charles I's dad, who had a secret passage built between his bedchamber and that of his favourite, George Villiers - the one in the picture up there ^. While most of the people on this list were only rumoured to have had gay relationships, no one really disputes it for James I.

Edward II gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of red-gold armour That would be his lover, Piers Gaveston.

Henry II. wore jewelled gloves reaching to the elbow Henry II, who was known to have shared a bed with William Marshal, the Earl of Pembroke. Which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but... you know. There's a theme.

Charles the Rash, the last Duke of Burgundy of his race At this point I can't tell if Wilde is deliberately throwing in some misdirection, like the mention of Henry VIII, or if my Google-powers have failed me.

the mortuary cloth of King Chilperic Oh hang on a tick. King Chilperic was a 6th century monarch who is known, among other things, for having strangled his wife. Just as Henry VIII had two of his wives executed. So the theme here is either queer relationships - or murdered women.

(We then of course get a series of notable historical figures who, so far as I can tell, don't have any connections to either of these things. Also this bit goes on for ages and this post is already very long, so I'm going to skip past them).

dreadful places near Blue Gate Fields A slum area just north of the docks in East London. Known for opium dens, brothels and murders. Some people have suggested this is an allusion to Jack the Ripper, even a suggestion that Oscar Wilde knew who Jack the Ripper was, which I'm reasonably confident is nonsense.

brawling with foreign sailors in a low den in the distant parts of Whitechapel So what I'm finding quite funny here is that all the dodgy and dissolute places that Wilde has Dorian go are literally just the same place.

Near the docks = East London, probably in the area of Whitechapel Blue Gate Fields = Whitechapel the distant parts of Whitechapel = that would be Whitechapel, then?

The very odd Jack the Ripper website I just read interprets Wilde's descriptions as meaning that he had some kind of hidden knowledge of London's underworld... just as the Ripper would have!! But to me this reads a lot more like Wilde was aware of one (1) suitably shady-sounding location and ran with it.

Here was Philip Herbert That would be James I's lover, Philip Herbert. (What, you thought we were done with these?)

Sir Anthony Sherard Is fictional, but...

the lover of Giovanna of Naples Giovanna of Naples was a real person, who probably murdered her husband. (Nice to get some variety among the murdered spouses).

Lady Elizabeth Devereux A Tudor noblewoman, known for a quite public affair.

George Willoughby... had been a macaroni of the eighteenth century, and the friend, in his youth, of Lord Ferrars I can't find much on George Willoughby, but Lord Ferrers shot his steward, and is known as the last peer to have been hanged in England.

the second Lord Beckenham... he had led the orgies at Carlton House Lord Beckenham is (I think) fictional; George IV, who held wild and extravagant parties at Carlton House, is not.

Tiberius, in a garden at Capri Googling this brings up articles titled things like "The Scandalous Private Life of Tiberius Caesar". That makes it sound like the fun activities of consenting adults, but that's grossly misleading. The people involved were rumoured to be often neither consenting nor adults.

reading the shameful books of Elephantis Elephantis was a Greek poet and physician who wrote a sex manual.

Caligula... Domitian... Elagabalus Caligula was known for sex and murder. Domitian was known for censorship and control of public morals. Elagabalus was known for sexual promiscuity with men and women.

And that's the lot! For the last few paragraphs of the chapter, Wilde actually spells out the various misdeeds of the people he discusses (sex and murder, unsurprisingly), thus sparing me from Googling them.

Congratulations if you made it this far.

#dorian gray weekly #chapter 11 #chapter xi #long post

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myemuisemo · 4 months

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It's time to learn from Letters from Watson "What John Rance Had to Tell."

But first, Holmes explains some of his deductions. He does not explain what the long fingernails on the right hand mean.

And he comes out with what is for me, as a modern reader, a doozy:

The A [in RACHE], if you noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fashion. Now, a real German invariably prints in the Latin character, so that we may safely say that this was not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator who overdid his part. It was simply a ruse to divert inquiry into a wrong channel.

What? A German fashion of writing?

OKAY. It turns out that, prior to World War II, German was written in different scripts than other European languages, which the University of Wisconsin has documented for us because German immigrants continued to use them.

Here are a snipper of UW's examples of Kurrent and Sütterlin, as well as capital letters from Wikimedia's Fraktur.

The Fraktur A looks so much like a U that I can't believe Lestrade wouldn't have read the word as "ruche" and decided the victim was a dressmaker.

Calligrascapes gives examples of Spencerian (U.S.) and Copperplate (UK) handwriting of the late Victorian period here. Lower-case A looks almost the same as in Kurrent. I feel like our wall-scrawler must have used Sütterlin.

That our killer is familiar with a German A implies he either reads German comfortably or corresponds regularly with people of German ancestry. Since Holmes says "a real German" would use Latin letters (so he corresponds with Germans or visits Germany), killer is presumably familiar with a German-American community, which is certainly plausible if he's from Ohio (or Pennsylvania, or much of the Upper Midwest).

Whew.

Holmes' passing mention of going "to Halle's concert to see Norman Neruda" is about seeing Czech violinist Wilma Norman-Neruda perform at an occasion organized by Anglo-German pianist and conductor Sir Charles Hallé (also Norman-Neruda's future second husband).

Finally, we arrive at the home of Constable Rance. Last episode, it was given as Audley Court, Kennington Toll Gate. The latter part is a real place, the site of a toll gate that was demolished about 15 years before the time of the story. Here's an old photo shared by The Underground Map.

Today the site of the toll gate is a plaza with public art.

The "long succession of dingy streets and dreary by-ways" suggests the cab ride was to somewhere near the old toll gate site (possibly just west of St. Mark's Church, which is the tower in the background), rather than directly to the triangle of land where it sat. There's not a lot of space right there, due to Kennington Park, which has a long history as a public common and site of hangings.

I suspect any police constable trying to live in London today would sympathize with Rance's living in a "sordid dwelling." Rance also takes bribes.

Rance is, of course, astonished by Holmes' powers of deduction. But what was the "drunk" man singing? I was sure in my heart that "Columbine" was "Columbia" (an old-fangled term for the United States) and searching for that made it possible to cheat when I Heard of Sherlock's discussion of this matter came up in my search results. It's "Columbia, Gem of the Ocean." Here's an audio file.

“Had he a whip in his hand?”

Where on earth did a whip come from? We've no such wounds on the victim, and the killer came with him in a cab.

I might not have gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across: a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn’t we use a little art jargon. There’s the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it.

And... title drop! If this is the fates weaving the tapestry of life, surely it says something about Holmes that all the other threads are colorless besides murder.

#sherlock holmes #letters from watson

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richmond-rex · 6 months

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Could you please tell more about why Elizabeth went to the Tower of London in 1503 but unexpectedly gave birth to her child? And why did Henry VII go to the Tower at that time? Thank you very much!

Hi! We don't exactly know why went to the Tower in February 1503, but presumably they were there to commemorate the feast of Candlemas, the day of the Virgin Mary's purification after the birth of Jesus Christ (a ritual which medieval women replicated in their own personal churchings). It was an important holyday in the Christian liturgical year and as such the king and queen would publicly attend mass along with the rest of the court. It was a day of special solemnity because Candlemas was considered a 'major double feast' and a 'day of estate', meaning that during the ceremony the king would wear 'his sircot, his kirtille and his … ermyne' and was to have on his head 'a hat of estate and his swerd before hym'. At the beginning of the mass a courtier would carry a candle (taper) before the king and queen which would be deposited at the altar. In the evening a 'void' occurred where nobles gathered in the great chamber to take refreshments with the king (and presumably the same happened in the queen's chambers).

Although Henry and Elizabeth were not frequent residents of the Tower in the first fifteen years of his reign, they used the place for ceremonial occasions such as coronations (1485 & 1487), diplomatic visits (1496 & 1501), openings of parliament (1497), St George's feast day (1500) and tournaments (1500). Henry ordered a new tower to be built there in 1501-1502 which might indicate a growing interest in expanding their use of the Tower. Accordingly, we see Henry and Elizabeth residing there from about 13 December until 22 December 1502. At some point they left the Tower to spend Christmas at Richmond where Henry paid for Elizabeth's furs. On January 26 Elizabeth went back from Richmond to London but I don't know exactly where she stayed from 26 January to 1 February. Her expenses suggest that first she went to Westminster and then to the Tower. All we know is that she was at the Tower on the 2nd of February (Candlemas) according to two contemporary sources:

Upon Candlemas Day in the night following the day, the King and the Queen then being lodged in the Tower of London, the Queen that night was delivered of a daughter, where she intended to have been delivered at Richmond. (Vitellius A XVI manuscript)

Candlemas Day in the night, the King and Queen being then at the Tower, the Queen travailed of child suddenly and was delivered of a daughter, the which was christened in the parish church of the said Tower & named Katherine. (The Great Chronicle of London)

Besides those two reports, that Henry was also at the Tower on that day is suggested by his offering at All Hallows Barking, a church located next to the Tower. My opinion is that they meant to spend Candlemas there but not to stay too long: the chroniclers as well as Elizabeth's payments suggest not only that she had a premature birth ('travailed of child suddenly') but that her confinement had been prepared at Richmond, so I doubt Elizabeth travelled to the Tower to have her child there. Another indication is that Henry usually lodged in the same residence Elizabeth had her deliveries and his household stuff only arrived at the Tower on 3 February, the day after her delivery. He stayed there until Elizabeth passed away by which point he departed to Richmond to ‘pass his sorrows’.

[He] took with him certain of his secretest, and privately departed to a solitary place to pass his sorrows and would no man should resort to him but such his Grace appointed.

We know Elizabeth had been ill at several moments during her last pregnancy. On 18 September 1502 she authorised payment of an apothecary’s bill and on the following days Henry sent for her surgeon. In November she had been visited by two nurses: Mistress Harcourt at Westminster on the 14th and 'a French woman' at Baynard’s Castle on the 26th. In January, Henry rewarded and sent for her surgeon once more on the 20th when he was at Richmond (and according to her expenses, Elizabeth was there too). Henry would send for a physician for Elizabeth for the last time on the first days of February but the doctor arrived too late.

I wonder if the ceremonies involved with a 'day of estate' such as Candlemas proved too tiresome for Elizabeth? It might have seemed symbolic for those around Elizabeth to see the queen going into labour on Candlemas, the day of the purification of the Virgin. If they interpreted that as the sign of a blessing, her passing a few days afterwards (on her own birthday no less) might have changed their opinion.

That's all I have but I hope my answer was helpful to you! 🌹x

#ask #elizabeth of york #henry vii

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denimbex1986 · 5 months

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'Doctor Who's final 60th anniversary special, "The Giggle" has set up the rumored UNIT spinoff show on Disney+ in multiple ways. Now installed in a flashy new skyscraper in central London, UNIT recall the Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant) to help them stop the world from going mad. Although the main draw of "The Giggle" is the battle between the Doctor and the Toymaker (Neil Patrick Harris), there's a sense that it's setting up a future UNIT spinoff. Doctor Who spinoffs on Disney+ have been heavily rumored since the co-production deal was announced. The new Whoniverse title also implies that Doctor Who will have its own expansive fictional universe.

8. UNIT's Brand New Headquarters

It looks a lot like the Avengers Tower.

7. The Dynamic Between The New UNIT Team

Doctor Who's new UNIT work brilliantly together.

6. The Vlinx

What's going on with UNIT's new robot?

5. The Galvanic Beam

UNIT is sufficiently tooled up to fight alien threats.

4. UNIT Offers Donna A Job

Could Catherine Tate come back in a spinoff show?

3. Doctor Who's Mel Now Works For UNIT

The 1980s companion will be back next season, too.

2. UNIT Are Hiring Former Doctor Who Companions

It's not just Donna and Mel.

1. UNIT Has An Earthbound Doctor Again

David Tennant's 14th Doctor remains on Earth.

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homomenhommes · 9 months

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1745 – Charles-Victor de Bonstetten (d.1832), a prominent individual in early Swiss gay history, was a writer and government official . It has long been speculated that Bonstetten, during his early twenties, was the object of affection of the homosexual English poet Thomas Gray .

In December 1769, the young Swiss aristocrat, living in London to improve his English, was introduced to the much older Gray. Shortly after this introduction, Bonstetten moved with Gray to Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, where he lived close to Gray's lodgings and spent his evenings in Gray's rooms. In a January 1770 letter to his confidante, Rev. Norton Nicholls, Gray wrote: "I never saw such a boy: our breed is not made on this model."

Bonstetten was obliged to return to Switzerland at the end of three months, but the two men were known to have corresponded regularly until Gray's death in 1771, although few of Bonstetten's letters have survived.

Bonstetten's best-known work is The Man of the North and the Man of the South; or the Influence of Climate (L'Homme du Midi et L'Homme du Nord, ou L'influence du Climat, 1824), an anthropological study of the influence of climate on human development.

Bonstetten went on to become the presumed lover of the Swiss historian and public official Johannes von Müller (1752-1809). Several love letters between Bonstetten and Müller have survived.

1856 – Louis Sullivan (d.1924) was an American architect, and has been called a "father of skyscrapers" and "father of modernism". He was an influential architect of the Chicago School, a mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright, and an inspiration to the Chicago group of architects who have come to be known as the Prairie School. Along with Wright and Henry Hobson Richardson, Sullivan is one of "the recognized trinity of American architecture". The phrase "form follows function" is attributed to him, although he credited the concept to ancient Roman architect Vitruvius. In 1944, Sullivan was the second architect to posthumously receive the AIA Gold Medal.

Sullivan was born to a Swiss-born mother, and an Irish-born father, Patrick Sullivan. Both had immigrated to the United States in the late 1840s. He learned that he could both graduate from high school a year early and bypass the first two years at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology by passing a series of examinations. Entering MIT at the age of sixteen, Sullivan studied architecture there briefly. After one year of study, he moved to Philadelphia and took a job with architect Frank Furness.

The Depression of 1873 dried up much of Furness's work, and he was forced to let Sullivan go. Sullivan moved to Chicago in 1873 to take part in the building boom following the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. He worked for William LeBaron Jenney, the architect often credited with erecting the first steel frame building. After less than a year with Jenney, Sullivan moved to Paris and studied at the École des Beaux-Arts for a year. He returned to Chicago and began work for the firm of Joseph S. Johnston & John Edelman as a draftsman. Johnston & Edleman were commissioned for the design of the Moody Tabernacle, and had the interior decorative fresco secco stencils (stencil technique applied on dry plaster) designed by Sullivan. In 1879 Dankmar Adler hired Sullivan. A year later, Sullivan became a partner in Adler's firm. This marked the beginning of Sullivan's most productive years.

Adler and Sullivan initially achieved fame as theater architects. While most of their theaters were in Chicago, their fame won commissions as far west as Pueblo, Colorado, and Seattle, Washington. The culminating project of this phase of the firm's history was the 1889 Auditorium Building (1886–90, opened in stages) in Chicago, an extraordinary mixed-use building that included not only a 4,200-seat theater, but also a hotel and an office building with a 17-story tower and commercial storefronts at the ground level of the building, fronting Congress and Wabash Avenues. After 1889 the firm became known for their office buildings, particularly the 1891 Wainwright Building in St. Louis and the Schiller (later Garrick) Building and theater (1890) in Chicago. Other buildings often noted include the Chicago Stock Exchange Building (1894), the Guaranty Building (also known as the Prudential Building) of 1895–96 in Buffalo, New York, and the 1899–1904 Carson Pirie Scott Department Store by Sullivan on State Street in Chicago.

Like all American architects, Adler and Sullivan suffered a precipitous decline in their practice with the onset of the Panic of 1893. According to Charles Bebb, who was working in the office at that time, Adler borrowed money to try to keep employees on the payroll. By 1894, however, in the face of continuing financial distress with no relief in sight, Adler and Sullivan dissolved their partnership. The Guaranty Building was considered the last major project of the firm.

By both temperament and connections, Adler had been the one who brought in new business to the partnership, and following the rupture Sullivan received few large commissions after the Carson Pirie Scott Department Store. He went into a twenty-year-long financial and emotional decline, beset by a shortage of commissions, chronic financial problems, and alcoholism. He obtained a few commissions for small-town Midwestern banks, wrote books, and in 1922 appeared as a critic of Raymond Hood's winning entry for the Tribune Tower competition.

According to biographer Robert Twombley, though he never publicly identified as such, Sullivan likely also faced the challenges of being gay at a time when such an identity or orientation faced harsh social and legal stigma and sanction.

He died in a Chicago hotel room on April 14, 1924. He left a wife, from whom he was separated.

1933 – Clive (Michael) Boutilier was a Gay Canadian Immigrant from Nova Scotia, who moved to NYC (Brooklyn) as a permanent resident on June 22, 1955, age 21. He was accompanied by his mother, Mary, brother, Eldred Andrew Boutilier and 2 other siblings. He had quit high school early without graduating in order to work and help care for his family in Canada. In the States he worked as a building maintenance man, eventually advancing to work for a large company in Manhattan. His parents were divorced. His father, Burton Melbourne Boutilier, stayed behind in Canada and died in Toronto in 1959.

L to R: Andrew Boutillier & his wife Joyce; Clive Boutillier & his partner Eugene O'Rourke at Coney Island 1960s

Clive met and began living with with his American boyfriend/life partner, Eugene O'Rourke, in Brooklyn in 1959. They lived in a separate apartment in the same apartment building as Clive's mother and American stepfather, Joseph McKenna, whom his mother had met and married in Brooklyn in 1959.

During his US immigration interview in 1963, it was discovered by the INS Agent that Clive was Gay. At that time, any LGBTQ person was considered to automatically have a "psychopathic personality" and subject to deportation. It was also grounds for denial of entry into the US. The law was passed by the US Congress in 1952, during the McCarthy/Red Scare/Lavender Scare era and was made even more detestable by Congress in 1965 in light of the Boutilier case that was then ongoing. It remained on the books and enforced until the 1990s when the Clinton administration finally repealed it.

As a result, the INS officer ordered Clive to be deported, but with the help of the ACLU, the NYCLU, an early Gay Civil Rights group based in Philadelphia (The Janus Society/The Homosexual Law Reform Society) and Civil Rights Attorney, Mrs. Blanch Freedman (and her husband Atty David M. Freeman) with the American Committee for the Protection of the Foreign Born, Clive fought back in the courts, his case becoming one of the earliest, if unsuccessful, Gay Rights cases in the US.

Subsequently, his case, Clive Michael Boutilier v. The Immigration and Naturalization Service (1966) was heard by the United States 2nd Circuit Court which upheld his deportation order. Ultimately, his case, Boutilier v. Immigration & Naturalization Service (1967) was appealed and take up by the United States Supreme Court, which upheld the ruling of the 2nd Circuit and affirmed his deportation order.

The Court documents mention that at that time (1967) Clive had been living with his boyfriend, Eugene, for 8 years. Nonetheless, he was to be be forcibly torn from his family, and the love of his life, and deported back to Canada within months. However, shortly thereafter, obviously distraught, Clive attempted suicide by stepping in front of a car, sustaining injuries which left him somewhat mentally and physically disabled for the rest of his life.

As a result, his deportation was postponed until Nov 12, 1968. At that time he moved back to Nova Scotia and years later transferred to an assisted living facility in Welland, Niagrara Co. Ontario, near relatives, where he ultimately passed away in 2003.

1792 – France: The head of Princess Lamballe is displayed on a stick and paraded before the imprisoned Marie Antoinette. The two were thought to be lovers. Princess Lamballe was married at the age of 17 to Louis Alexandre de Bourbon-Penthièvre, Prince de Lamballe, the heir to the greatest fortune in France. After her marriage, which lasted a year, she went to court and became the confidante of Queen Marie Antoinette. She was killed in the massacres of September 1792 during the French Revolution.

1971 – In Minnesota, Jack Baker (b.1942) and Mike McConnell (b.1942) are the first same-sex couple to be legally married when Jack changed his first name to Pat and the marriage license was granted. John "Jack" Baker and James Michael McConnell filed for a marriage license in Minnesota. The clerk of the Hennepin County District Court, Gerald Nelson, said he had "no intention of issuing a marriage license," that would "result in an undermining and destruction of the entire legal concept of our family structure in all areas of law."

In mid-August 1971, Baker and McConnell took up residence in Blue Earth County and applied to the District Court in Mankato for a license to marry which was granted once the waiting period expired. Rev. Roger Lynn, a Methodist minister, solemnized their marriage on September 3rd. They were the first legally married couple and remain together to this day.

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inky125 · 2 years

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Now accepting volunteers for the Professor Layton Fangame! (Join our Discord!)

In the United Kingdom there is a legend that the day the ravens leave the Tower of London, the crown will fall and Great Britain with it...

The story begins not only with the fact that these ravens, out of nowhere, seem to have all left at the same time, but that same day, multiple ministers of the British parliament have vanished in front of everyone at the beginning of the corresponding sessions. There doesn't seem to be a pattern between the types of MPs who disappear: both from the House of Lords and from the House of Commons, from one party to the other...

What happens is that in the seats of certain ministers, different explosions of smoke occur simultaneously, which when they disappear it leaves only their clothes on the seat, and a message between the clothes that in Old English threatens the crown, which makes the English population nervous, especially since the media link it with what happened to the ravens.

Our story begins with Vincent Falco, an American historian who has made a fascinating discovery. On the other side of the Atlantic, on the east coast of the country , the 9 ravens of the Tower of London have been found, and he certifies it with the royal certification that they carry on their legs. That's why he writes a letter to the professor asking him to go there, because he's sure it must be no accident that they flew there, mainly because of the town's history: well, presumably, centuries ago, when the United States was trying to become independent from England, some Americans conspired to free the ravens and thus overthrow England.

With this premise, Layton and Flora arrive in the United States, where they meet with Luke (who, if you remember, canonically had gone to study in the United States because of his father's job), and together they go to the seaside town of Harborwich, a historic city founded by the British centuries ago. In this place there seems to be a criminal gang terrorizing the town; In addition, two predominant families that are in conflict also stand out, the Falco family (which is Old Money), and the Astor family (which is New Money); Vincent Falco, as a member of the Falco family, invites the group to his home to discuss the matter, where they meet the rest of the family.

To all these, it seems that someone is especially aware of the steps taken by the professor and company... But who is it?

Wanna learn more? Wanna contribute? We accept all types of help, Join our Discord! https://discord.gg/zaRXcCFYE7

#Professor layton #layton fangame #luke triton #hershel layton #flora reinhold #fanart #I am very excited with this project #I was waiting to have more work on this thing before preparing the discord #I'd love if some of you guys join <3

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whump-captain · 2 years

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Ghost Ambulance Masterpost

I’ve written enough about these guys at this point that I figure some kind of directory would come in handy

I’m calling this the Ghost Ambulance series and it’s a half-horror, half-action situation following three friends brought together by paranormal troubles: Joy, an ordinary photographer who did not sign up for this; Elaine, a real ghost hunter with a lot of issues to work through; and Cutter, a fake ghost hunter who can’t seem to catch a break.

There’s three main storylines; the shorts in them don’t always follow directly from one another, but they’re listed chronologically. Content warnings are separate for each post.

Storyline 1: Fruit of the Glass Tree

The main story in which all the characters meet and which I will never actually write because it would only work in the medium of a triple-A video game.

Joy, an urban explorer, gets a phonecall in the middle of the night from a strange number. The voice on the other side manages to say an address and the words: “I’m trapped” before the line goes dead. Led by an explorer’s duty, Joy investigates the dilapidated concrete tower and finds a man called Cutter: he’s injured, trapped under rubble, and claims that the building is haunted. As Joy explores the almost-ruin in search of a way out, strange phenomena and twisting geometries force her to believe that claim as the clock starts ticking until whatever brews there comes to a head. Unbeknownst to her, help is on the way - but can either of them survive long enough to meet it?

Storyline 2: Blood Money

The job of a monster hunter isn’t always fights and glory. It’s a strange, secretive group to be a part of and when Elaine crosses an influential hunter with less than savory motives, she finds out that it can also be a dangerous one.

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Suffocation | Trauma

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Self-induced injuries to escape | Left for dead

Storyline 3: Apocalypse, Run

Eldritch calamity blooms over London and for once, Joy, Elaine, and Cutter have nothing to do with it. What they do have, though, is a sense of duty that pushes them to put to use all their experience in dealing with the paranormal and help as much as they can, however they can.

Unconnected stories

Stuff that doesn’t fit anywhere, plus all the art

Writing:

Whump art:

Non-whump art:

Character lineup | Cutter’s scars reference | Outfit sketches: Elaine | Outfit sketches: Cutter

(banner photos credits)

#captain's stuff #captain's ocs #oc whump #whump #masterpost #whump writing #whump art #whump masterpost #ghost ambulance #there's. a lot huh #and i do have ideas for more

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apples-r-rubbish · 3 years

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Feelings (11 x reader)

Eleventh Doctor x fem!Reader (feelings) Word Count: 2.9k AN: This post explains why I’ve been gone, bit of an early Christmas present, hope you all enjoy it -L Warnings: None Request?: Yes MASTERLIST

It started off as little things. “So, whaddya think?” The Doctor asked, displaying a brand new bowtie that did not remotely match his outfit. It was neon green and you cringed slightly before laughing, “You are taking that thing off right now,” You said between fits of laughter. “What? Why? I think it matches my eyes,” He laughed in response, breathless at you. You placed your cup of tea gently onto the console, and quickly and briefly apologised to the ship. You cautiously placed your hands on his chest and quickly untied the tie. “I’m asking her to hide this from you. You’re not having it,”

“Please, I bought that at that market on Karzon 7,” he whined in response, missing the feeling on you next to him, your hands on him.

‘Yeah, no, definitely not. It’s not going anywhere near your person,” You said before slinking off down one of the corridors laughing to yourself. He missed you the second you were gone and he replayed the sound of you laughing in his head. Instinctively, the Doctor shook his world weary head, no, you were just a friend.

It escalated. You were on some foriegn planet, the four of you. The Doctor, Amy, Rory and yourself. You had raced ahead wanting to see the lights in the city at night, along with the way it combined with the stars, Rory trailing . Amy caught the Doctor staring fondly at you “Oi, loverboy, just tell her how you feel, it’d be easier than staring at her like that,”

He shot her a look “I do not have feelings for her- look she’s human. I can’t fall in love with her, these things go badly. And I’m not in love with her, you’re both my best friends.” Amy frowned and rolled her eyes in response “All I’m saying is you look at her in ways you don’t look at me and Rory and we’re also your best friends,”

It was his turn to frown, there was a pause, an uncomfortable silence. Amy continued “look the way I see it is, what’s the worst that could happen?” The conversation trailed off when they reached you and Rory. He stopped and looked at you, properly, loving staring at the light reflecting in your eyes. You asked him a question and he completely missed it “Huh? Oh sorry, I was just thinking, you said something?” You repeated your question, he wrapped his arm around you, smiled and rambled the answer to you, filling your ears with knowledge of the planet and its people as Amy and Rory shared a knowing look.

And it escalated again. You had visited a foriegn planet, the four of you. Spires of glass refracted a mixture of light and the hazy colour of the purple sky. “This is Laeturn, most things are made of glass here, delicate, be careful all of you,” The Doctor warned before gently extending his hand out to you, you accepted and smiled. The people were lovely and accepting on the planet, one particular individual had taken a liking to you. Ko-ran he said his name was, his skin matching the gentle purple of the sky. He had slipped his arm around you at some point along the way and whispered to you about the history and traditions. The other three trailed behind, a permanent scowl fixed to the Doctors face, that would tense when Ko-ran laughed at your lack of knowledge or your attempts at pronunciation. “You could just tell her right? You know? Do the very you thing of intervening and explaining something and she’ll give you that amazed look like she always does and then just tell her how you feel?” Rory said suddenly when you and Ko-ran were a fair distance ahead

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just making sure she’s safe. There’s nothing wrong with being cautious,”

“Can you at least look like you’re having a good time then old man?” Amy countered

“I am having fun, I just don’t trust him, that's all just something I can’t place.”

He was right unfortunately, as he always was. Ko-ran and his people had believed you to be a lost monarch of some sort and tried to instate you as royalty, and then threatened to kill your friends. Eventually fighting had erupted amongst the people, Amy and Rory had managed to escape. The Doctor had managed to slip into one of the rooms you had been assigned, “Your highness, I think it’s time we left,” The Doctor smiled, wrapping his arms around you. You jumped at first not realising it was him and reached for the closest thing to you, an old walking stick, which you dropped almost immediately upon realising it was him. “Hey, it’s ok Amy and Rory are safe-” The Doctor was cut off by you hugging him tightly and sobbing lightly into his shirt “it’s ok, it’s ok. We’re getting you out.” The glass door shook lightly, guards banging against it upon hearing voices. Quickly, the sonic was used and the lock clicked further. He adjusted his neck and jacket slightly and jumped up onto the window ledge. I was a large opening and took up a proportion of the window. It towered well above his head. “I need you to trust me,” He said, extending his hand to you as he looked down from the ledge.

“You’re not suggesting we- It’s a huge drop, we’re in one of the spires,” You rambled panic taking over

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me. More than usual, please,” He urged. The light reflected beautifully in his eyes, his hair was messier than usual and the refined glass sent flecks of light washing over him. You nodded, stepped over to the ledge with him, his arms locked around you. “Look at me and nothing else. Do not look down,” A gut feeling of fear remained in your stomach, the door swung open, angry guards flooded the room. You felt the world tilt, and the wind rising, but the only thing you could focus on were his eyes. And in a moment, you lightly bumped against the TARDIS floor, on top of him giddy with adrenaline. You had barely registered what had happened, he stood up quickly, snapped his fingers and pushed a series of buttons on the console, getting you off the planet. Amy rushed over to you, wrapping her arms around you, making sure you were safe as the adrenaline wore off and you stared at the doctor as he continued on with the ship. Before he darted off down one of the many corridors presumably to fix something.

“So, I’ll be here when you get back for a full debrief or if you need anything, or even if you need to get out of it although you shouldn’t need to call me. He’s a nice guy and like actually nice not you know-” Amy rambled, maternal instincts kicking into overdrive

“Amy I’ll be ok, it’s a first date, and we’ve been speaking for a little bit anyway, and you know him so I don’t understand why you’re worried,” You laughed fixing a few strands of your hair as you walked down the final steps to the console room. The Doctor noticed you immediately “So where are you off to? Anywhere exciting?” He asked, crossing his arms, admiring you, you opened your mouth to speak, Amy spoke for you, “I did tell you. I’ll explain later, did you at least drop us off where I asked, right time period?” Amy questioned clearly frustrated “Yes, yes I did, and there’s no need to be so bossy about it. See? 24th of September, 6:45, London,” He gestured towards the screen.

“Right I best be off then,” You smiled heading towards the doors “Try not to collapse time and space whilst I’m gone.” You exited the ship and on to the slightly chilly London streets.

“So where is she off to then?” He asked crossing his arms and leaning against the console

“She has a date, I set her up with someone I know. She was finding it hard to get over someone, so I figured it might be best.” The Doctor frowned in response involuntarily “So? Are they nice then? Or will we have to go and free her later from small talk about pets, music and parents?”

“He is actually. His name’s Dan, he works with Rory. They met at one of our house parties and he seems alright,”

“You have house parties? And I wasn’t invited?”

“You were, you got the date wrong, and when you got it right you had to drag me and Rory off to deal with something, so we had to leave (Y/N) in charge, and you complained the whole time she wasn’t there,” It was Amy’s turn to frown “At least be happy for her, it’s the least you can do as her friend.”

He opened his mouth for a witty response, beeping sounded from the console

The date was going horribly. Dan was nothing like how he was at the party. You ended up excusing yourself to the bathroom and calling the TARDIS.

“Oh hey (Y/N), how's the date going?” Amy asked

“Very badly, can you come make excuses for me, he’s acting weird, like weirder than expected,” You responded. You hung up the phone and returned to your table. You continued with awkward small talk, you sipped on your drink awkwardly “So want to come back to mine? I don’t live too far from here,” Dan suggested. You opened your mouth to excuse yourself, and the doors to the restaurant swung open and a panicked bowtie clad alien stepped through the doors. He rushed over to your table despite the many dirty looks he was receiving

“Amy told me you were here, something's happened, we need you to come home,” The Doctor said out of breath, he’d run there

“We’re in the middle of a date, if you don’t mind,” Dan hissed

“And I’m talking, if you don’t mind,” The timelord practically growled “Something’s come through on the channel and I think I’ve found something interesting and you need to be safe,” He extended his hand out to you. You smiled and grabbed it. “I think I need to go then I’m afraid,” You said to Dan before the Doctor pulled you out of the restaurant and you ran hand in hand through the freezing London streets. You turned a corner and stopped abruptly out of breath quietly giggling to each other. There was a brief moment where your faces edged closer but you assumed that was just the adrenaline. You felt a brief scratch on your shoulder, you had barely turned around when the Doctor shouted at you to duck, you did, the claw swinging narrowly over your head as the Doctor staggered back pulling you with him, the claw narrowly missing you both. He Stood up quickly, acting as a shield between the thing and you.

“I knew it was you in the restaurant, I’ve dealt with your kind before, from Clom I believe, the energy signatures coming off you are unique,” The Doctor analysed. You finally saw it in the dim amber glow, it was a thing round with various faces sticking out at odd angles, you cursed loudly. One of them you recognized as Dan, he was speaking, mumbling vague panicked apologies.

“Why are you here? We’ve done this before, look you can’t harvest my memories, even if you want to,” He frowned, a switch seemingly flicked inside of the Doctor he was the version in the restaurant again “To try to take my memories is one thing, to come into my friends home and lie to them is another, to try to kill the person I am in love with is too far,” there was a cracking noise, a watch had broken and the thing seemed to liquify a little

“I swiped this from the restaurant, when you were busy objectifying her, better to keep track of these things don’t you think,” His voice was low and cold, the noise of the sonic buzzed loudly before the thing melted into the pavement, vanishing. The Doctor paused for a moment examining the pavement and slicking back his hair, the oncoming storm had settled once again.

He turned to you warmth returning to his eyes and face “Are you ok? Anything broken? Anything missing?”

“No, no I’m good i think, what the hell was that thing?” You asked shock very clearly still in your system

“Abzorbaloff, nasty things, absorb people and gain their memories. And I think that’s what he was planning with you if the date had gone slightly better,” He pressed his hand to your cheek in a further attempt to calm you down, a slight chuckle in his voice “At least this time I won’t have to make a paving slab with a face. C’mon back to the TARDIS,” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, whilst you contemplated his words, dizzy with adrenaline. There was a moment of silence, before you were able to take your first cautious step with wobbly legs, “There we go, see, c’mon (L/N),” you slipped slightly again and he caught you in his arms, the amber glow above his head illuminating him like an angel. He paused and laughed awkwardly, wrapping his around your waist and giving you time to steady yourself, his arm stayed there as you wandered back to the TARDIS shaking.

At some point during the slow and shaky walk back, you asked him “What happened to Dan then could we have saved him?”

“No we couldn't, he was echoes of what was left. His body was gone, he wouldn’t have lived a proper life, I can’t save everyone all the time, I’m sorry,” He frowned in the way the Doctor usually did, one that was world weary that seemed like it held back the weight of a thousand unsaid words

“I didn’t really know him, I feel bad. I know I couldn’t have prevented it, but I still feel awful,” You confessed

“You couldn’t have helped it, if it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else and I might not have been able to save them, at least I could save you,” There was a silence, and that followed and it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.

You walked past the TARDIS allowing yourself some more time to calm down, at the Doctor’s suggestion. The Park was abandoned at this time. You had wandered into it together. You found a little stream and a small bridge and leant against it. The cold nipped at you and you shivered quietly against the railings. Silently the Doctor noticed and slipped his jacket off and gently wrapped it around you. It was warmer than you expected it to be and it felt oversized and heavy on you.

“Are we going to talk about it?” You said suddenly breaking the silence, turning slightly and matching a similar pose to his.

“What?” He mumbled in the response his words getting lost in the dark

“Everything. What you said earlier, in the alleyway ‘the person I love’, the fact you give daggers to any male that isn’t Rory getting anywhere near me, and the fact that Amy and Rory make it so painfully obvious,” You said having quietly had enough “And the fact it feels like anytime we get anywhere closer to figuring out what the hell we’re doing something gets in the way or you run away and can’t cope with it,”

“I didn’t realise you’d noticed, and I didn’t know you were getting over someone, Amy had mentioned it to me earlier,” He whispered, his voice quiet, not wishing to do any more harm.

You inhaled sharply, and rubbed your hand slowly down your face whilst you carefully considered your next sentences, “That wasn’t her place to tell you that, I told her that in confidence.” You sighed “Of course I had noticed, it’s about as obvious as that bowtie is stupid. It was you, that person. And I knew regardless of what I had noticed and what you were thinking or doing, it would take ages before you admitted it yourself, nevermind me. I couldn’t keep pretending for my sake,”

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, and closed it, he considered everything for a brief second.

“Exactly, when you fall in love with a scared god it is not easy and I’ve learnt that.” You frowned “I don’t want to hear it. Let’s go back to the TARDIS,” you stood up straight

“What if I’ve fallen in love with you?” He responded

“Then, I guess I’ve fallen in love with you too,” You replied. There was another pause. A loud silence. You made eye contact, and you kissed. It was cautious and careful, neither of you willing to push it in case the other would regret their actions. The cold air brushed your faces, and you pulled away quietly. He extended his hand to you, you took it gently and went back to the ship together, smiling like idiots.

#doctor who self insert #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor/reader #eleven x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x you #self insert doctor who #self insert fanfiction

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mlmreaderfics · 4 years

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You Look Quite Divine Tonight (Cthulhu x Lighthouse Keeper!Male Reader)

The years have not been kind to you.

You are grizzled, old, scarred from your face to your heart, and tired. Your hair has gone white from age, along with your beard, and wrinkles break up the symmetry of your sandpaper skin. Your voice constantly aches and itches from yelling and overuse, though you appreciate the light Scottish accent you allegedly have. It makes you seem tougher than you actually are. There are callouses and blisters on your fingers, palms, feet from work. For work on the sea is anything but easy.

The sea has not been kind to you.

On occasion you find yourself with a strange, salty taste in your mouth. You used to know whether it was the ocean or your own tears. Your eyelashes freeze, yet you feel the most comfortable in the cold, or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. You are very tired. Ever since hitting your ripe age of “too old to go to sea, but too young to retire properly” you took the toll of a lighthouse keeper. When you got here, it was supposed to be six weeks, with a young, scrappy helper that reminded you of yourself. Instead, he hung himself from the rope while he was supposed to be repainting the blistering white tower. Maybe he hated you. It wouldn’t surprise you, although it’s the first time anybody has taken their own life just to get away from you. You didn’t know him, yet you feel immense sorrow. Perhaps you were being too parental. You do tend to get attached.

The world has not been kind to you.

You never really knew your mother, she left before you were ten, and your father was colder than the ocean himself. Yes, you tend to refer to inanimate objects as “him,” but those rich men call their boats “her,” so who are they to judge? Though, perhaps it is because they see you as a predator, an animal itching to get its hands on any man it can find. But that’s not what you want. What you do want, you’re not sure, but it wouldn’t be just any man, and it wouldn’t be just for sex, throwing yourself around dark alleyways like a London whore. Though, you are just as tired as they are. It was supposed to be six weeks.

You have resided here, alone and without rescue, for a year. You think.

Thankfully, you have enough food to last you another six months. There’s been no ship to come rescue you from this rock, perhaps they no longer have a need for lighthouses. Maybe those children with their inventions figured out how to navigate the sea blindfolded, backwards, and in the dark. but they wouldn’t just leave you here, right?

You decide not to think about it. Thankfully, you have a very worthwhile distraction.

Whilst searching through the house, you notice one of the floorboards sounds off when you step on it. It takes you about five minutes to crouch down to the floor, but in the end, it’s worth it. You knock on the floor. Sounds like normal. You move your scarred fist to the left, three raps following. Also normal. Left once more.

There it is. The knock is echoed slightly, the wood hollow underneath.

It takes you ten minutes to get up off the floor, but thankfully you have a newfound adrenaline. You hobble over to the toolshed outside.

You make a point of not looking to your right, knowing you will find some of the grisly remains of your crew-mate, your excitement giving you tunnel vision to the crowbar. You rush back and bend over, your back loudly protesting as you attempt to pry back the floorboard. One push. Then two. Then three.

With a loud crack, the board splinters away, revealing a small hole with a book inside. It appears to be a journal.

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Though you eat dinner that night, your health is the furthest thing on your mind as you theorize what the book could be. A book of spells? A tale as old as time itself? Maybe just pretty pictures? Whatever it is, the fact that new information is occupying your head is enough.

When you finally get a chance to sit down and begin to read, you notice an important sentence on the front page:

“This journal belongs to: Gustaf Johansen.”

Well, whoever this Gustaf character is, you are sure to be fascinated by him!

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January 12, 1792.

Today marks my first day on the sea. While I do admit that I may come down with a minor sickness, I still have faith in my comrades to help me, as I shall help them.

———————————————————————————

You scan the pages, word by word. It details six months of a life at sea, similar to yours. Gustaf is (allegedly) described by his friends as “a man with strength and beauty to rival Thor himself.” Though you doubt that description, you can’t help but entertain the handsome image.

He’s holding your hand, rubbing his thumb on the back of it. Smiling, he nestles his head between your head and shoulder.

You shake your head. It’s ridiculous, no one is coming to save you.

_________________

April 20, 1792.

I have been having frequent dreams of a place I have yet never seen. I find myself under the ocean surface, far from dry land. And yet, in the murky waters, I see a glowing, beautiful city.

——————-

That night, you have the same dream.

You don’t think anything of it.

You continue to read.

_____________________

May 2, 1792.

The dream has come again, but now I hear a chorus of people. Or perhaps, not people, but simply voices. They speak in a language I do not recognize, yet still understand. They speak of the coming of a god, a Great Old One.

They call this being Cthulhu.

—————

Underneath the entry, a sentence, phrase, or paragraph in an unknown language, presumably the one from the dreams, is written. It is a terrible mess of consonants and apostrophes. Though, it is still somewhat readable. Your pronunciation is messy, but you get through it.

Mggoka'ai ya, throdog gn'th

nog, uh'eog ot shugg

Y' nogephaii

nogephaii l' ya, gn'bthnknyth

nogephaii l' ya, orr'e

nogephaii l' ya, cthulhu

You finish the final syllable. Nothing happens.

In a burst of anger, you grab a flare from the supplies closet and walk out into the night.

Standing on the beach, you light the flare, waving it around. The sky is black, not a star in sight. “Please, help me!” you cry. “Please, anybody! I’m right here!” Tears burn your eyes and run down your cheeks. You muster all the strength in your lungs.

“I’M RIGHT HEREEE!!!”

With the final syllable, the ground shakes. Did somebody finally hear you? Are they coming to help you, after a lifetime of isolation?

It shakes again, your take a few steps to regain you balance.

Again. Your knees wobble.

Again. You fall, and a great deal of pain does not fill your body. In fact, you feel a great sense of rejuvenation in your bones.

Again. You manage to get up, seeing bubbles on the ocean surface.

Slowly, a mixture of flesh and scales emerges from the sea. Two sets of burning red eyes lie below. A strange beard of tentacles. A hugely muscled body with miles-wide wings. And when he speaks, you feel it in your chest.

“I do not recognize you, my beloved.”

You stare in fear, the flare still belching smoke.

“Lovely mortal, fear not. My beloved, Gustaf, had the most beautiful soul.”

The tentacles on his face gently wrap around you and lift you up. You find yourself between his eyes.

“You have that same soul deep within you.”

You begin to cry once more. The tentacles are surprisingly not as freezing as you thought they would. Instead, they fill your body with loving warmth.

“I-I apologize.” You say. “I have not been held like this since…”

You look back on your life, quickly.

“No one has ever held me like this,” you admit. Your voice is small, lost, broken.

“Then I am honored to be the first.”

His centuries-deep voice is filled with love. He speaks your name softly.

“Wouldst thou like to experience the pleasure of a god?”

“Yes,” you whisper desperately. You quickly unbutton your shirt, but the tentacles take care of your clothes for you. He laughs like rolling thunder.

He devours you, body and soul.

#male character x male reader #male reader #cthulhu #eldritch #lovecraft #lovecraftian #cthulhu x reader #lighthousecore #sailorcore #lighthouse #mlm

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kindofwriter · 3 years

Text

Can I offer you some: ‘Ep 25, The Gang Meets Wilde’

Pt. 2

I guess I swung wildly between ‘brandy’ and ‘whiskey’ when writing this and didn’t notice, oof.

Transcript under the cut:

HAMID: I don't, I, I don't think so... Um, hello?

HAMID presses his finger tips to the door, swinging it gently inwards but not fully opening it. SASHA instantly flattens herself against the wall, drawing a dagger and clutching it to her chest.

VOICE (O.S.): Oh, hello?

BERTIE: Oh! Hello!

SASHA and ZOLF both give BERTIE a glare. HAMID reaches out to push the door further, but stops before he does.

VOICE (LANGUISHLY): Oh, hello!

BERTIE (OVERLAPPING): Hello!

HAMID (OVERLAPPING): Hello?

VOICE (O.S.) (OVERLAPPING): Hello!

BERTIE: Hello! Hello!

ZOLF elbows BERTIE in the waist.

ZOLF: Who on Earth are ya?

VOICE (O.S.): I could ask you the same question, I suppose!

HAMID steps into the apartment, pushing the door wide open as he does so. ZOLF and BERTIE step in behind him.

OSCAR WILDE is lounging by the hearth, looking only slightly uncomfortable in a halfling-sized chair. He's human, average height and average build, with plump, youthful features. His hair falls the nape of his neck in glossy, brown waves that shimmer every time he turns his head; he's clearly wearing an illusion.

WILDE is dressed in a manner that's almost garish: peacock patterned waistcoat, scarlet, French-style suit, red shoes, and yellow socks, but between his good-looks and his charisma he completely pulls it off. In one hand he holds a glass of HAMID's whiskey, and in the other a note pad.

WILDE: So sorry I, uh, got here a little early, thought I'd just wait it out.

WILDE smiles winningly at the party. BERTIE reaches up to lift the grate of his armour. HAMID looks confused. ZOLF frowns, then grabs hold of his symbol. A low sound, part way between a hum and a growl, emits from his throat, reminiscent of wind battering across the top of a lake. For just a moment his eyes glow, then WILDE's notebook bursts into flames.

WILDE: Ooh, ah!

WILDE drops the pad, shaking his hand. It's burnt to a crisp before it hits the ground. Looking at its smoldering remains, a faint smile twitches at WILDE's lips.

WILDE: Fantastic, that'd be you... Zolf? Yes?

ZOLF (PLAYING DUMB AS A ROCK): Who, sorry?

WILDE (SMIRKING): Hmm.

CUT TO SASHASASHA is still pressed against the wall, head turned to the side so she can listen in. Her face is stony, but she looks poised for a fight.

CUT BACK TO INT.

WILDE: So, that must be Zolf.

ZOLF scowls and looks away from WILDE.

WILDE: And Hamid, and Sir Bertrand, yes.

BERTIE: Hello.

BERTIE steps forward, obscuring WILDE's view of everyone else. Between his height and his breadth he towers over WILDE, who immediately starts to look a little flushed.

WILDE (ALMOST COY): Hello.

WILDE looks BERTIE up and down in a meaningful fashion. He then glances away for a moment to meet ZOLF's eye, just to make sure he's catching what WILDE is doing. BERTIE looks a little affronted at the loss of attention.

BERTIE: Mm.

WILDE turns and begins to pour another glass of whiskey from HAMID's decanter, then offers it to BERTIE.

HAMID: Um, who might you be?

WILDE (WITHOUT BREAKING EYE CONTACT WITH BERTIE): Wilde. Good to meet you.

BERTIE: Pleasure.

BERTIE takes the drink.

ZOLF: Is there a compelling reason why, um, I shouldn't shove this trident up your bum?

Now WILDE does turn away from BERTIE, looking right at ZOLF. It's difficult to tell whether he's red with annoyance, heat, or still recovering from his intense eye contact with BERTIE.

WILDE: Oh, that's not very- You wouldn't want that getting out, would you now? Honestly!

BERTIE (CLEARLY TRYING TO WIN WILDE'S ATTENTION BACK): Well, you haven't been formally introduced, which I think is part of the reason.

ZOLF (MUTTERING): Well, also, you'd be dead, so it wouldn't be going anywhere.

BERTIE has clearly failed to hold WILDE's attention, as he watches ZOLF with a quirked eyebrow. There's no hint of the 'bedroom eyes' he'd tried on with BERTIE, but there's definitely some kind of passion in that gaze. However it seems, more than anything, like the passion to argue.

HAMID: You, you, you appear to be in my apartment uninvited.

WILDE: I do apologise.

WILDE actually looks at HAMID for the first time.

WILDE: I was just hoping to get hold of you, and, well, I thought this was the best place. I mean, you have been staying here most nights, haven't you?

HAMID: Yes.

WILDE: Well, there we go then, I, uh, I thought you might enjoy the company.

WILDE once again makes eyes at BERTIE.

HAMID: Next, next time it might be nice of you to wait for an invitation.

WILDE: I, I do apologise, I, I did knock!

HAMID sighs deeply.

HAMID: Not quite the same thing, is it?

WILDE (EVASIVELY): I suppose not. So! This is all very exciting; I'm noticing you're all looking a little worse for wear-

HAMID smooths a hand over his waistcoat.

HAMID: I, uh, I would dispute that, thank you.

WILDE: Well, let me re-phrase: not all of you. I'm, I'm noticing, um-

WILDE glances at ZOLF, who seems to be the only one in the room not trying to capture his attention.

ZOLF (GRUMPILY): No, I always look like this.

WILDE: One of, one of your party's missing?

ZOLF (PLAYING DUMBER THAN A ROCK): Who? Nope.

WILDE: Oh, I'm fairly certain that the girl-

ZOLF (INTERRUPTING): No, nope, who? What?

WILDE: The girl is. Hmm, yes. Quite. So, where have you been? How was today? I'm quite fascinated, actually.

HAMID (FIRMLY): Why don't you tell us why it is you're here?

WILDE: Well, I just thought it might be a good idea for you to sit down and, y'know, really, really share, y'know? Really explain things by yourselves, because people want to know. You know?

WILDE gives HAMID a very smug look.

HAMID: Are you a reporter of some kind?

WILDE: Mm, yeah, of a, of a kind. I, I, I sell my stories to whoever's interested, really. And a lot of people are very interested-

WILDE turns away from HAMID and begins to pour more glasses of whiskey. HAMID seems unfazed by this.

WILDE: I just, a lot of people are very interested-

BERTIE: Well, you know-

BERTIE shoves his glass between the decanter and the glass WILDE was filling, effectively giving himself a top-up.

BERTIE: I, I have been looking- I very much have an opening for a biographer.

BERTIE raises an eyebrow at WILDE, still leant across him from filling his glass. WILDE smirks.

WILDE: Well, we would have to closet ourselves away for a significant amount of time to really go over, go over the details. The nitty gritty, as it were.

Behind them, ZOLF scowls, clearly picking up on their queer-coded language, but immediately looking down on anyone who would willingly flirt with BERTIE. HAMID shuffles his feet, waiting innocently for the pair to finish talking.

BERTIE: I, I assure you, I have some extremely fine details to share with the appropriate young scholar.

WILDE turns, two new glasses of whiskey balanced in one hand.

WILDE (WITH A CHUCKLE): Presumably you mean of quality, not diminutive.

BERTIE joins in with his chuckle, but it quickly becomes mean, eventually devolving into a deep growl. Suddenly looking a little uncomfortable, WILDE moves away from BERTIE and offers a glass of whiskey to ZOLF. His face is soft; clearly he's looking for a little sympathy.

ZOLF refuses to take the whiskey, and scowls again at WILDE.

HAMID takes the glass offered to him, so WILDE drains ZOLF's.

BERTIE: My details are distinguished by their quality and their quantity.

WILDE (LESS SURE, BUT STILL PLAYING HIS PART): Indeed, I mean, that, that's a lot of the reason that I'm here. I've been hearing so much interesting- I mean, your deeds with Other London? And especially, I mean- Did you, did you manage to catch whoever it was with the antiques store?

CUT TO SASHA IN THE HALLWAY

SAHSA grimaces; tightens her grip on the dagger.

CUT BACK

WILDE: I heard that was, heard that was a bit of a problem, no?

An awkward silence hangs over the room for a moment as ZOLF and HAMID give WILDE a look that tells him that was in poor taste. BERTIE enjoys his whiskey.

HAMID: Uh, l-look, Mister Wilde, I don't-

WILDE: Sorry that was, that was, that was rude of me. Clearly I was treading on a nerve. I'm so sorry.

BERTIE raises an eyebrow, seemingly losing some respect for WILDE as he apologises.

HAMID: I don't, I don't mind telling you about, uh, what we've been up to. As I'm sure you've seen in the press and will see again soon, we are not averse to sharing our story. But I really must insist that you tell me what it is you do, and why it is you are here specifically.

WILDE (JUMPING IN): It is so generous of you to donate so much to the natural history museum, as well-

Suddenly WILDE is knocked off his feet, backwards into HAMID's chair, dropping his glass as he does so. SASHA looms over him, the tip of a dagger pressed lightly to his throat. WILDE is surprised, but not afraid.

SASHA: What do you know about the antique store?

WILDE smiles, just slightly.

WILDE: Well, I was hoping you'd be able to tell me, all I know is that you were there.

SASHA (UPSET, BUT IN HER OWN WAY): What, what do you know?

BERTIE steps forward, placing a hand on SASHA's shoulder.

BERTIE: Now, now, Sasha. If there's any blade to be held to this young man's throat I feel it should be mine-

SASHA shrugs BERTIE off with such force he actually has to remove his hand.

SASHA (CLEARLY AGITATED): He, he knows something about what happened to Gusset. He, he knows who trashed Gusset's store!

WILDE (WRIGGLING BENEATH THE DAGGER): No, no, that's not what I said.

SASHA: Oh, really? So, you know-

WILDE: I was curious-

SASHA: So how did you know about that? Because we didn't go to the press about that.

SASHA pressed slightly with the dagger. WILDE leans further into the chair to avoid getting nicked.

WILDE: Well, y'know, some people are observant, and some people, y'know- I mean, where do the press find these things out?

SASHA: Well, but- Usually, Hamid tells them!

For just a moment SASHA alleviates some pressure from WILDE, and it seems as if she might wheel around to threaten HAMID. Then she looks down at WILDE and re-applies the pressure; she trusts HAMID.

WILDE: Well, usually doesn't always cut it-

SASHA: That's how journalism works!

WILDE takes a moment to allow his eyes to drift back to BERTIE.

WILDE: Some deeds will just speak of their own accord.

SASHA: Oi!

SASHA begins to press the tip of the blade to WILDE's throat. Once ZOLF realises what she's doing he steps forward slightly, poised to pull her off.

SASHA: What do you know about who trashed Gusset's store?

WILDE: I don't know what to say. I know that you went in there, and you, uh, had a bit of a conversation. It looked very amicable, and then you headed on your way.

WILDE catches sight of ZOLF, stood behind SASHA with an arm outstretched. He visibly relaxes, allowing a huge grin to spread across his face.

#rqg #the rusty quill gaming podcast #zolf smith #oscar wilde rqg #sasha rackett #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #bertie macguffingham #zoscar #ah that sweet sweet qpr meet ugly #rqg 25 #author's note

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headcanonsandmore · 3 years

Text

“Fell In Love With A Girl”, Chapter One

Summary: Luna Lovegood finds herself caught up in a world of international espionage, on the hunt for the mysterious gang who have a strange obsession with Amazonian plant-life (a subject on which Luna happens to know quite a lot). And, of course, Ginny Weasley insists in coming along for the ride. You don't mess with Ginny's Lu and get away with it. But can Ginny protect Luna from the forces set against them?

~~~~~~~~~

Here it is, everyone; my first foray into the action-adventure genre of fanfic! Hope you like it! Thank you to @lytefoot and @cheeseanonioncrisps, without whom this fic would never have happened, and @rabisacos for their advice with some elements of the plot that will become apparent in later chapters. :)

TWs are in the tags.

~~~~~~~~~

Read on FFN. Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~

The shop bell tinkled.

Luna Lovegood looked up from the plant she was re-potting. It was close to mid-day. Normally, she would have kept the shop open for the afternoon, but she had other plans that afternoon.

The stranger who walked in was… well, very strange indeed. A large, heavy-set man, clad in dark clothes despite the warm weather, and with thick sunglasses that obscured most of his face. Luna was also aware that he was very tall and towered over her.

‘Hello,’ she said, a little confused as she climbed to her feet. ‘Can you help you with anything?’

The man reached into his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to Luna.

‘Amazonian Octarine-Flame?’ Luna read aloud. ‘I’m afraid I don’t stock it; the plant is very rare, and isn’t kept domestically in the UK.’

The man stared at Luna for a moment, as if judging whether he believed her, before he nodded, took his piece of paper from Luna’s hands, and left without so much as a thank you. The door swung shut behind him.

Pondering the stranger’s behaviour, Luna finished her re-potting, and brought in the standing sign from outside. She was just locking the front door, when the sound of a motorbike made her turn.

‘Alright, Lu?’

Luna grinned, her cheeks blushing, as Ginny pulled off her helmet, her ginger hair sparkling in the sunshine.

‘Yes,’ she replied, pressing a quick kiss to Ginny’s cheek. ‘I’m all set to go. Are you feeling confident?’

‘For the match? With you watching me, I’m always confident.’

Luna smiled, as she strapped on the spare helmet Ginny had just handed her. She climbed onto the back of the bike, and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. With a loud roar, the bike came to life, and the two women sped off through the streets.

Mercifully, the traffic wasn’t too bad that day, and they reached the basketball arena with a few minutes to spare.

They could hear the crowds beginning to arrive. Luna squeezed Ginny’s hand as they walked over to the players entrance.

‘You’ll be brilliant, Ginny,’ she said, pecking her on the lips.

‘Thanks,’ Ginny replied. ‘Can I hope to expect a bit more than a kiss as a reward afterwards?’

Luna giggled.

‘How about you win the game first, before you think about that?’

‘So… that’s not a “no”…’

Laughing, Luna kissed her again, and Ginny flashed her a smile, before entering the players entrance.

Luna walked through the main entrance, and made for the stands.

‘Luna!’

Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom were waving at her from a spot roughly in the centre of the stands. Luna waved back, and made for them. The crowd was full of people excitedly talking about the game about to start, and of the odds on different players scoring. Luna was happy to see that Ginny was a popular choice.

Luna reached Neville and Hannah. She hugged them both, and sat down.

‘You and Ginny got here on time, then?’

‘Yes,’ Luna replied. ‘The traffic was fine. How about you two?’

‘We were almost late,’ Hannah said, interlacing her fingers with Neville’s. ‘Neville’s been getting some weird emails from lots of friends from our old class.’

‘Very weird, actually,’ Neville said, his brow wrinkling. ‘Apparently, there’s been some break-ins in several botanical conservation sites, all of them having plants from the Amazon stolen. All within the same week.’

Luna was about to enquire further but, at that moment, the stands around them erupted in cheers as the two teams emerged onto the court.

Of course, Ginny’s team won the team, with Ginny herself scoring several points, including one scored with a spectacular leap upwards over two members of the opposing teams heads. Luna cheered and applauded as Ginny grinned up at the stands.

About ten minutes later, Ginny emerged from the changing rooms, and was met by a cacophony of reporters and fans. Finally, the crowd dispersed, and the redhead walked over to where her girlfriend was waiting.

Ginny, her face now wreathed in a wide smile, hugged Luna tightly as the blonde threw her arms around her.

‘I was a bit worried there for a bit,’ she said, modestly. ‘But it all worked out okay.’

‘You were brilliant!’ Luna exclaimed, quickly pressing a kiss to her lips. ‘I’m so proud of you!’

‘Oh, really?’ Ginny asked, a mischievous look entering her eye. ‘Care to demonstrate after we get back to yours?’

Luna blushed, smiling.

Luna sat up in bed, and stretched.

Ginny was snoring softly on the mattress next to her, her red hair illuminated slightly in the moonlight.

Luna smiled at her girlfriend.

Her life had been so… dull before Ginny entered it. Sure, she loved her shop and working with plants all day, but there was a routine to it that had become tedious over the years. So much that it almost became background noise. And it wasn’t as if Luna met a lot of people; she wasn’t the most ongoing person and, while she occasionally met up with people she had known at university, her life progressed in much the same way every passing week and month.

Then Ginny had arrived. A whirlwind of red hair and sports jerseys. Fun, exciting and utterly lovely. The most exciting, mist exhilarating person Luna had ever met. The last few months had been… well, wonderful in every sense of the word.

Feeling thirsty, Luna pulled her nightie over her head, and wrapped a dressing gown around herself, before descending the stairs to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of milk, and leaned against the counter, watching the moonlight dance across the kitchen.

She was just about to go back upstairs again, when she became aware of a curious sensation. Almost as if she was being watched?

Luna set her glass down on the kitchen counter, and walked across to the entrance through to the shop. She could see the usual shapes of the plants climbing up, and the vines stretching up across the ceiling.

Was… was there someone there? She had a burglar alarm installed, but the siren had not gone off. Everything seemed to be as it should.

Luna paused in the entrance way, her neck prickling. What was…

There was a creak on the stairs behind her.

‘Luuuunnnaaa….’ Ginny purred, slipping her arms around Luna’s shoulders. Luna felt goosebumps erupt along her neck as the redhead spoke softly into her ear. ‘Come back to bed…’

Casting one last look over the shop, Luna allowed her girlfriend to lead her back upstairs. But, out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn that something moved in the shop.

Probably just a fly, she thought.

The kitchen was bathed in sunlight as Ginny and Luna ate their breakfast. Ginny was wearing a pair of Luna’s old dungarees paired with a white t-shirt, and Luna was finding it difficult not to blush; the redhead looked so lovely wearing them.

‘So… no practices for a few weeks,’ Ginny said, her mouth half-full with toast. ‘It’ll be nice to have some time to relax.’

‘That would explain the lack of a bra today, I take it?’

‘Oh, definitely,’ Ginny said, flashing a wink. ‘And, well, what say you and me have the day to ourselves?’

‘Oh, that sounds…’ Luna began, before her face fell.

‘What? Something wrong?’

‘No, I’d love to just spend the day here with you, but… well, I’ve been invited to a Botany and Horticultural conference at my old University today.’

‘Oh, no worries,’ Ginny said. ‘I’ll join you.’

‘What? No, I can just tell them I couldn’t make it-’

‘Don’t be silly. You love this stuff, Lu,’ Ginny said, stroking Luna’s hand softly. ‘I want to learn more about what you enjoy.’

‘You don’t mind? I know Horticulture isn’t really your thing.’

‘And basketball isn’t really your thing, but you still come to my games,’ Ginny replied. ‘Let me be the sweetie-pie for once, ‘kay?’

Luna smiled, her cheeks dimpling.

‘I’m not that sweet.’

‘I beg to differ. After all, I am now rather accustomated to-’

‘Ginny!’

The redhead laughed, and threw an arm around Luna’s shoulders.

‘Okay, when does this conference start?’

‘Midday, but-’

‘Great, then we’ve got a few hours to kill. How about you and I take it easy for an hour or so, and then I’ll pick up my suit from my place?’

Luna found herself blushing.

‘S-suit?’

‘Three-piece, Lu,’ Ginny said, winking. ‘Why? Too much?’

Luna smiled, and shook her head. Her girlfriend was something else, indeed.

The two of them arrived at Luna’s old university with some time to spare. They had taken the underground at Luna’s insistence; she had said that it was due to the lack of parking at the university but, judging from Luna’s blushing whenever she looked at Ginny, the redhead could guess it was because she didn’t want Ginny to mess up her suit.

They bumped into Professor Sprout, one of Luna and Neville’s old professors who Ginny had met previously. The professor smiled as she saw Luna’s fingers intertwined with Ginny’s. Both the young women blushed.

Soon enough, the conference was due to staff. Luna and Ginny sat down in the auditorium, and the noise of everyone around them gradually dissipated.

An elderly man, presumably one of the university’s professors, walked across the stage. He had a long beard and wore half-spoon spectacles.

‘I’ll be brief,’ said the elderly professor. ‘Throughout the last few days, we have heard numerous reports of the thefts of Amazonian plants across London. Our sister universities in Europe have been dealing with similar reports.’

‘And from other parts of South America,’ said another professor. ‘Paraguay and Chile have also had various thefts.’

‘We’re dealing with an international level of theft. The various authorities have been informed, of course, but I must ask that we all be very careful when it comes to security for the time being.’

Ginny turned to look at Luna, and was startled to see her girlfriend looking suddenly very worried.

Instinctively, Ginny reached out and took her hand, giving it a delicate squeeze. Luna smiled softly, clearly glad of the support.

It worried Ginny to see Luna looking so serious; she was usually so calm and cheerful about everything. Things were clearly bad if even Luna Lovegood couldn’t put a brave face on. Even though the rest of the conference was of a more cheerful nature, Luna’s mood did not improve much.

Luna and Ginny rode back across London on the underground. Ginny didn’t let go of Luna’s hand the entire time, and Luna leaned into her girlfriend’s shoulder, her face troubled. It broke Ginny’s heart to see her like this. She wrapped an arm around Luna’s shoulder, and pressed a quick kiss to the blonde woman’s forehead.

Luna seemed to be feeling marginally better as they emerged from the underground. As it happened, they passed the restaurant they had gone to for one of their first dates, and Ginny pointed it out. The memory brought a smile to Luna’s face, and she squeezed Ginny’s hand.

However, as soon as they turned the corner round to Luna’s shop, this happy moment popped like a bubble.

‘M-my shop!’

Ginny stared on in horror. The shop windows had been smashed in, and there was several police cars parked nearby. Pieces of glass were scattered across the pavement, and the owners of the shops nearby were stood around, looking concerned.

Her eyes widening, Luna stumbled forward.

‘What’s… what’s happened?’ she gasped, as her fellow shopkeepers turned to look at her. ‘I… I was only gone for a couple of hours.’

‘We heard the windows smash and the alarms go off barely forty-five minutes ago,’ said Madam Puddifoot, the owner of the café next door. ‘Thank goodness you weren’t hurt, Luna.’

‘Who the bloody hell would do this?’ Ginny exclaimed, as she looked at the smashed glass, aghast. ‘God, Luna… you could have been here,’-she grabbed Luna’s hand-‘forget what I said earlier, spending the day at home would have been terrible.’

Luna chuckled miserably.

‘Was… was anything taken?’

‘That’s the weird thing,’ Madam Puddifoot said, looking a little baffled. ‘Your till doesn’t seem to have been touched at all. No money gone, nothing. It looked like whoever did this didn’t even try to break it open.’

Well, Ginny thought, that’s one positive-

‘But we noticed some of your books have been taken.’

‘What?’ Luna said. ‘My books? On botany?’

‘Yes, the ones on Amazonian plants, by the looks of it.’

Luna’s face, if it was possible, fell even further.

Ginny wrapped her arm around Luna’s midriff, holding her close. The blonde turned and leaned into her chest, her arms reaching around Ginny, clinging to her for support.

‘I’m here, Lu,’ Ginny whispered, ‘It’s gonna be okay.’

Luna nodded, mutely.

‘Ms Lovegood?’

A tall, black man had emerged from inside the shop. He was wearing a dark blue suit that had a sort of neat elegance that Ginny had never managed to achieve. Some people had a distinct aura that went with their job, and Ginny knew he wasn’t just a standard policeman. He was a detective, or something similar.

‘Y-yes,’ Luna said, pulling away from Ginny and turning to face the man.

‘I am Kingsley Shacklebolt,’ he said. ‘I’m in charge of the investigation surrounding this break-in. Normally, we’d ask you to discuss this within your shop, but we understand if this is a bit too much at the moment-’

‘It’s fine,’ Luna replied, sounding far tougher than Ginny would have expected. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Still holding Ginny by the hand, Luna followed Shacklebolt into the shop, taking pains to avoid the glass scattered across the pavement.

The inside of the shop was surprisingly tidy. Aside from the windows being smashed, nothing was much out of the ordinary. Same plants, same vines reaching up the walls, etc. Ginny took a quick look around, and was almost positive that none of the plants seemed to have even been moved, let alone stolen. There were no tell-tale trails of compost, for one thing.

As they entered the kitchen, Luna strode over to the bookshelf she had recently put up against the wall. Ginny realised exactly what Madam Puddifoot had meant; there were several empty spaces where Luna’s books on Amazonian botany and plant-life were supposed to be. They had certainly been there when Ginny and Luna had left for the conference earlier that morning.

‘Ms Lovegood, we are currently trying to ascertain the motive for this,’ Shacklebolt said, as he, Luna and Ginny sat down around the table. Several police constables blocked the view into the kitchen from the shop itself. ‘The till wasn’t broken into, and no plants have been stolen, so profit doesn’t seem to have been the motive. Do you think it could be anything else? Blackmail, perhaps?’

‘No,’ Luna said. ‘It’s… well, my books on rare Amazonian plants have been stolen. They were the only things that were taken.’

A brief flicker of emotion flickered across Shacklebolt’s face.

‘I see. And… the smashed windows? An intimation tactic, perhaps?’

‘You don’t say,’ Ginny said, sarcastically. ‘What a load of bastards…’

Shacklebolt smiled at the redheads infuriated expression.

There was some raised voices from the shop. Several of the police constables began to move.

‘Ere mate, you can’t just barge in,’ exclaimed one short constable. ‘Fred, look at the nerve of this bloke…’

‘Aye, Nobby,’ said another member of the constabulary, who had a large, red face. ‘That constitutes… uh, accessory to annoyin’ a police officer-’

‘Let me through, you morons, I know Luna and Ginny-’

‘Neville!’ Ginny said.

‘Thank god you’re both here,’ the blonde man replied, as he scrambled into the kitchen and stood before them. There were some continued mutterings from behind him. ‘Luna, I’ve got a feeling that your books on Amazonian plants have been taken?’

‘Y-yes,’ Luna said. ‘Neville, how did you-’

‘Because Professor Sprout’s private stores were broken into while she was at the conference,’ Neville said, his face serious. ‘All her research into rare Amazonian plants has been stolen.’

‘O-oh,’ Luna said.

‘That sounds about right,’ Shacklebolt said, mirthlessly as he put a hand up to his earpiece. ‘I’ll need to discuss this with the office.’

He stepped through the line of constables and into the shop, already talking to whoever was communicating through his earpiece. But he was then barged aside by a tall, redheaded figure.

‘Ginny? Luna?’

‘Ron?’

Ginny’s older brother appeared through the crowd in the kitchen doorway.

‘Are you two alright?’ he asked, ignoring the mutterings from the various police constables whose feet he had accidentally-on-purpose trodden on. ‘I heard it direct from Neville earlier-’

‘We’re fine, Ronald,’ Luna said. ‘But thank you anyway.’

‘That’s good,’ Ron said. ‘You’ve got Ginny here, after all.’

Luna smiled, squeezing Ginny’s hand.

‘Yes, I do.’

Ginny found herself blushing a little.

‘How about I make us all some tea?’ Ron said. ‘Ginny, help me with the mugs?’

‘Sure.’

As the kettle began to boil, Ron turned to his sister and whispered.

‘Luna seemed pretty shook up.’

‘Yeah,’ Ginny replied, casting a quick look over her shoulder, to where Luna was talking to Neville. ‘I know she’s putting a brave face on it, but… this is her home as well her shop, y’know? The idea that someone would break into it while she was barely out for a couple hours is pretty distressing.’

‘You were both at the conference while this happened?’

‘She was half-willing to not bother today, but I thought it would be good for me to learn more about botany for her,’ Ginny said. ‘But… what if she’d been here while the break-in happened?’

‘It wouldn’t have happened, Ginny,’ Ron said, patting her on the shoulder in support. ‘I’ve got a feeling that whoever did this timed it so it happened during the conference itself, when they knew Luna would be out of the way.’

‘You reckon?’

‘Yeah. I mean, why else do it in the middle of the day? Especially on a busy London street.’

Ginny nodded, putting sugar into Luna’s mug (Luna always liked two spoonful’s of sugar in her tea).

‘Ginny?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Just… I think Luna’s going to need you with her,’ Ron said. ‘And I reckon you’ll be there with her one-hundred-per-cent, right?’

‘Of course,’ Ginny replied. ‘I’d die than let anyone hurt her.’

Ron smiled.

‘Hopefully, it won’t come to that. But just be careful, okay.’

Ginny stared at him.

‘It’s a break-in, Ron, not a terrorist operation.’

‘Still.’

Ron poured the water into the various mugs, added the Kingsley Shacklebolt had returned. He nodded to the police constables nearby in a knowing way. He then turned to Luna.

‘Ms Lovegood, do we have your permission to check the premises for any listening equipment?’

Luna stared at him in confusion.

‘My apologies, Ms Lovegood, but we cannot be too cautious. The people who broke in could have bugged the place.’

‘Do thieves normally do that?’

‘No, but I don’t believe we are dealing with normal thieves here.’

Luna swallowed, looking worried.

‘Okay; you have my permission to check.’

‘Thank you,’ said Shacklebolt, before turning to the constables.

‘Secure the perimeter.’

The assembled constables spread out. All the doors and windows were closed, and the entire shop and kitchen were checked thoroughly, including the underside of the table and every light fixture.

After the constables seemed satisfied that nothing had been tampered with, Kingsley sat down again at the table. Ginny joined Luna on the other side, while Ron and Neville remained standing.

‘I’m afraid that I now have reason to believe that this is an international conspiracy,’ he Shacklebolt said, his voice grave. ‘Which means that I am now authorised to give yourself, Miss Weasley, Mr Weasley and Mr Longbottom security clearance.’

‘Er… what?’

The man smiled.

‘My name is Agent Shacklebolt of MI5,’ he said, as he flashed a badge. ‘My apologies for not being honest with you earlier, but it wouldn’t have done you any good to know unless you needed to. I’ve been tracking these break-ins for a while, but now I have solid proof that they aren’t just isolated occurrences.’

‘You’re a… a spy?!’ Ginny gasped, shocked. ‘Like James Bond?’

‘I’m afraid the reality is far less glamorous,’ Agent Shacklebolt replied, smiling slightly. ‘But, yes, I am a spy. Or spook, if you like. Normally, I only deal with domestic issues but, given the international nature of this threat, I will be liaising with my peers in MI6. They should be here in a moment.’

He put a hand to the small head-set in his ear, and began to talk quietly.

‘I always did wonder what the difference was between them,’ Ginny muttered. Luna chuckled under her breath.

A man passed through the police (who had, by this point, grown sick of being used as a sort of living wall), and stood in front of the table. His face was covered in scars, and his hair was a messy, mousy brown. He gave the appearance of looking far older than his age.

‘Hello,’ said the man, smiling softly. ‘My name is Agent Lupin of MI6, but you may call me Remus.’

~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked it!

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sxint · 3 years

Text

Location: Outside of St Paul’s Cathedral Date: 27|02|21. Closed: @rfjofficial

The city felt different that day, quieter, a sombreness that consumes it’s population as three bombs detonate and attack three of the wealthiest families in London. And although the smoke and ash subsides into embers, a faint crackle of the atomic blow in the early hours of the morning, the way in which skies turn lucid orange, bright and wicked as the flames that engulf their legacies, strive to eradicate empires, it’s enough to make Saint’s nose wrinkle in distaste as he finds himself walking. Walking without reason, without destination, until suddenly from Parliament he is outside of St Paul Cathedral. Ancient land for the gangs, a place proclaimed historically neutral in the way it had been a stage, holy and ethereal, platformed before the eyes of God to watch sinners dance.

No longer a Seraphim, Saint isn’t permitted to take part in the meetings being held in the Bellum Nova offices. Despite his protests and proclamations of a missing sister, he is forced to accept his place on the food chain time and time again as old oak door shuts in his face and information is deemed to valuable for the likes of him who has yet to prove his worth. He takes a seat on a nearby bench, dark and tired rings around his eyes a tell tale sign of exhaustion as thoughts plague him. Worries about his family, about their business, their gang, and most importantly Juno. Fucking, Juno. Of all the people to go missing in a time like this, it being someone as practical and scheming as her sends chills up his spine, guilt to manifest in the pit of his stomach and a bitter taste of his tongue. Saint peers down at his phone, opening up texts, over 40 messages sent to her in the last 24 hours and none of them answered. The last thing he tells his sister is that he’d wanted to refuse the ransom, and fuck, does he feel idiotic now. Now that she is gone because of it, evaporated from plain sight and left for their family to presume the worst.

He’d almost entirely spaced out, before a familiar tap of shoes approaches. Rhythmical and light, a glance down at expensive footwear and he’d already known who had approached. Saint looks up, leaning back in his seat and grazing teeth thoughtfully over his bottom lip. “Raf,” the acknowledgement is quiet, a lack of energy evident as he exhales a deep sigh. “I saw the tower on the news, so I presume Famine also received at unusual text message last week regarding a ransom.” Moving over slightly, Saint invites the other to sit down, reaching for the packet of cigarettes that lives in the pocket of his wool coat and pulling out a lighter with it. With on placed to rest between his lips, he brings the flame upward and lights the tip. “Do you want one of these?” Saint offers, holding the pack out on an open palm, “they’re French,” and his only souvenir brought back from Monaco.

#conversations.#c | rafael.#27|02|21.#so excited to write these bbys again

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catherine-parr-1512 · 3 years

Text

SixVengers - The Beginning (Fic 1) Chapter 6

@kenneth.mark.82 Mark Keeneth

Who would have thought that London might be destroyed tomorrow lol

13 replies 20 retweets 2031 likes

@spider_woman_fan_club Spider-Woman Fan Club

England is about to get destroyed and all I can think of is Spider-Woman flying today through London, looking good as always :/

303 replies 1025 retweets 70K likes

@superheronewsuk Super Hero News UK Official

BREAKING NEWS:

The City of London and surrounding areas are evacuated due to the upcoming Alien invasion that will hit London. The Prime Minister will release an official statement at 7 p.m. about the situation but unofficial sources claim that British heroes were asked to defend London.

20K replies 32K retweets 801K likes

Katherine closed Twitter and looked outside the window. She was in a car with Agent Blount and Anna on their way towards Parr Tower. It was decided after the meeting, and once everyone had cooled down, that the best thing for the team was to stay the night together and the best place for it would be Parr Industries Headquarters in central London. This meant that if by some chance, the attacks started earlier, the group of heroes would be able to get there faster than if they were travelling from their homes, most of them being on the edges of the city.

To pass time through travelling through central London, she was on her phone like any normal teenager would be and she was surprised that people didn't freak out that much. Kat knew that, that would change when the attack would take place.

After travelling for 30 minutes through busy streets of London, the cars containing the heroes and three agents *kidnappers* thought Katherine, finally arrived at Parr Tower, where they would spend the night getting to know the other members of the team and getting ready to fight Henry.

The three of them left the car and met up with Parr, Boleyn and Lee who arrived just a minute before. The group were joined by Aragon, Seymour and Salinas after a short while, the trio arriving last. The nine women made their way inside the tower and Katherine was impressed, to say the least. Whoever designed the building had taste. It was modern and white with blue accents. Very tasteful and minimalistic.

Kat could see many people walking around, minding their own or company businesses, nobody paying attention to the large group of women that had just entered. One of the security guards approached Parr and whispered something to which she nodded and led them towards a large elevator on the left side of the entrance, bypassing the security. It was fortunately large enough to fit all of them comfortably. The door closed but nobody clicked any buttons.

“BRIAN? Please take us to floor 80.” Said Catherine and everyone looked around, not seeing who this Brian was. However, all of them jumped when she got a reply.

“Of course Miss Parr, right away. I will also put the light on and adjust the temperature.” Said the robotic voice from inside the elevator and quickly started moving upwards.

“I presume it was some sort of computer?” Asked Anne awkwardly, not knowing what to say about the whole situation. “But that’s just my observation.”

“Actually, it’s an AI, fully functional and capable of thinking for himself,” Parr said with a small, proud smile. “I named him after my uncle who took care of my brother and I after our parents died.”

“That’s sentimental.” Smiled Seymour and the whole elevator went back to a (somehow) comfortable silence until the elevator stopped with a ping.

The door opened to show a large living room. It had a see-through wall on the opposite side of the elevator. Along that wall was a row of white, comfortable-looking couches and chairs. The walls were painted a light sky blue and grey, giving the whole room a calming look.

“Whoa, this looks nice, Parr. What a nice room to greet your guests. It’s very… you.” Joked Anne, jumping on the nearest couch, and putting her legs on the coffee table.

“I think it’s just parrfect.” Said Seymour and everyone looked towards her weirdly. “Sorry, I was trying to make a pun.” She chuckled to herself.

“I heard that you were a comedian but I don’t understand how anyone would laugh at that.” Replied Anne, earning a chuckle from both Katherine and Anna. However she also received a stern look from 3 Agents in the room - Salinas, Aragon and Lee - and a sad puppy look from Seymour. Parr and Blount just shook their heads.

“If most of you stopped behaving like children, I would like to point out that it’s my living room that most of my guests never see so be grateful,” Catherine said before anyone could say anything else. “This is one of my 3 personal floors so please don’t wreck it too much. I still want to spend time in my living room without it being destroyed… again.”

“What do you mean again? Did a group of women with some sort of abilities destroy it before?” Asked Bessie, sitting down on a nearby couch next to Anna and Katherine.

“Nope. It was BRIAN and me. Well, I mean he was in one of the suits and I was in another. We had a mock fight in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep which definitely wasn’t my greatest idea. We ripped a huge hole in the ceiling.”

“Now I want to see you do it again if I’m being honest.” Said Anne.

“I’ll bring popcorn for the entertainment.” Added Anna and the two of them high fived each other in the air from a distance.

“I think we should pick someone to be your leader for the mission. While Director Meutas will be controlling the whole operation from the TOWER along with many agents, there will have to be one of you making sure that everything out there on the field is going okay. It will be just the six of you. Military and a few agents will help you but they will mostly have to make sure that any civilians in the city will be safe.” Stated Salinas as an unofficial leader of Agents (other than Aragon)

The heroes looked between each other, silently debating the choice.

“Well, I am underage so I’m out” Said Katherine with a smug smile.

“I have anger issues that count me out as a reliable leader.” Added Anne, smirking slightly.

“Don’t look at me, I can barely look after myself to make sure that I don’t accidentally die. No positions of power for me, hey!” Laughed Anna, getting comfortable on her couch.

The remaining three women looked around, each looking at the other two women in silence.

“I think each one of us would be a good leader…” Said Jane, looking at Aragon and Parr, meeting their eyes. “However, as the oldest person here, I think I have the most experience in this type of job. Let us also not forget that I was and still am a Captain in British Army.”

“Sorry? You were frozen in ice for 70 years. I think that means you still are as young as you were back then, Seymour. I, on the other hand, am an agent in a secret government agency who knows how London works and I know this city.” Countered Aragon jumping towards Seymour, looking straight into her eyes.

“Really? Everything you do is being told to you. I led men into a battle and we won. You don’t have that experience, Aragon.”

“Unless you haven’t noticed, I’m not sure if being in the freezer for so long damaged your vision, but we are not men. We are women and we need someone who can lead us. You are not that so just step down and let me do it.”

“I don’t think so. I am not letting you do it. I won’t let some random woman lead this team and possibly cause us to lose.”

“YOU LITTLE-” Started Aragon, grabbing Seymour by her suit before they suddenly found themselves on opposite sides of the room, thrown against the walls.

The room was silent as they looked at what happened only to see Parr standing where they were before, wearing her Iron Woman gauntlets in each hand, with a hard look on her face.

“Both of you behave worse than 5-year-olds, we are supposed to be bonding and yet you squabble over something we don’t even need! I thought you would be better but if that’s how it will be, personally I think it’s better if we all decide on the field what we are doing, no leaders. I think we are all mature enough to make sure that it won’t be a problem.”

“Or maybe you want to become a leader?” Asked Jane, stepping towards Parr, the tension getting heavier in the room.

“Yeah. It seems like you want to be the one to lead us.” Added Aragon, tilting her head at the other woman. “Look at me, I am Catherine Parr and I say what is the best for everyone!” She added in a high pitched voice, trying to imitate Parr.

“I have to agree with you on that one, Spy, but don’t think that it makes us friends,” Seymour grumbled and moved closer towards the centre of the room.

The other agents didn’t know what to do with the newfound tension but fortunately, the other 3 heroes knew that they had to do something before 3 women killed each other.

“I REALLY THINK COFFEE WOULD BE NICE RIGHT ABOUT NOW!” Mused Anne, very loudly, making it seem like she was talking to herself. Parr, Aragon and Seymour stopped looking at each other, Boleyn now being the centre of their attention.

“Uhm, yeah… Right… I have a kitchen right there. I’ll make everyone coffee or tea.” Catherine said and quickly disappeared from the room towards where she said the kitchen was and the tension in the living room quickly disappeared.

Seymour and Aragon sat on the couches as far as possible from each other and the room was silent now, the only noise heard was breathing and some fans working.

“I think I will go help Parr with all of those cups. I also have this difficult coffee order. I don’t drink it any other way.” Anna quickly fled the room, leaving Anne and Katherine looking as if she was an evil witch who had killed their dog and laughed about it at the end of a song. The others didn’t seem to pay her any attention.

“Hello,” She said as she entered the kitchen, seeing Parr standing with 9 cups and 2 pots, probably with either coffee or tea inside them. “Wanted to see if you needed any help, Cathy Parr.”

“Cathy? Really?” Asked the other woman with a small smile on her face.

“Well, I decided everyone needs a nickname. When I say Katherine or Catherine it sounds the same. Or Catherine and Katherine. And then we have Catalina. Honestly, how many women can have similar names? This is like 33% of this group!”

“Don’t forget Anna and Anne. Those two are very similar.”

“I know, right? Stupid green imposter, I’m the superior Anne/Anna.”

“Fortunately for everyone we only have one Jane, Elizabeth, Maria or Margaret. I think that Lee is called Margaret but don’t take my word on that.” Joked Cathy, snorting lightly.

“I am also not sure about that one. I just call her “Mean Agent” in my head. Honestly, all the time I look at her, it looks as if she was getting ready for some kind of war. I mean, I know that we might be having a battle for humanity tomorrow but honestly, smile a little. Jeez, is that a lot to ask?” The woman dressed in red acted dramatically, clenching her hand across her chest as if she was being hurt.

“Do you have any other nicknames? For the others?” Asked Parr, filling one of the pots with hot water and turning her head to look at the other woman.

“I mean, yes. So we have Catalina as Lina. I think that’s actually a word for rope in Polish and to be honest, I would not be surprised if she had a rope hidden somewhere in that uniform of hers. Anne is Anne or Shrek.” At that, Catherine burst out laughing. “HEY! Don’t laugh. Just imagine her saying ‘What are you doing in my swamp?!’” Said Anna in a deep voice, trying to imitate Shrek. "And you will understand where I am getting this from. Jane is Cap or just Jane. Might buy her a cap after all of this is done. Then we will have Cap on Cap. If we buy two and she stands on one of them, we will have a cap sandwich. Little Howard is Kat because she reminds me of a cat but we put K at the start. And by we, I mean me and maybe you in the future. You, Catherine Parr, are of course Cathy. Lee we already talked about, Blount is Bessie and Salinas is Marrrrrrrrria. Remember, the more you roll the r's, the better the effect.”

Catherine Parr chuckled at the last comment, thinking what Salinas would think about it.

“You’ve known us for a few hours and you already came up with those? It’s pretty impressive.”

“It is not impressive. I was just bored.” Replied Anna, smirking. “So what are we having here?” She pointed at the pots, now filled to the brim with hot liquids.

“One of them has coffee, normal black. The other has tea, Earl Grey. I have milk in the mini-fridge in the living room so anyone can add it if needed by themselves.”

“Can I have hot chocolate? I am not a huge fan of coffee.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll make it for you right now. You know, like the good host I am haha.”

"Thanks." The two stood in silence, waiting for the drink to be made in a fancy machine Cathy had. Anna, however, was bored and wanted to start a conversation again. "You know, I am not sure what happened there in the living room. With Seymour and Aragon."

Cathy sighed "I don't know either. I get it that we should have someone to lead us on the field but… but I haven't thought that those two would make an issue out of it. They were just so…. Different, I guess, from what we saw in T.O.W.E.R. HQ."

"Maybe they are hormonal? Or need some sleep? Or coffee?"

"If they need coffee, we better head there quickly before I will have to use my repulsors on them again." Cathy pointed towards her two gauntlets that were now in the form of bracelets around her wrists.

"That's what they’re called? Cool." With that, the two women grabbed everything, Cathy with the two pots of tea and coffee while Anna used her powers to take all the empty cups and her hot chocolate.

"Your powers. They are rather impressive. I never saw anything like that."

"Not you nor C.O.U.R.T.. When I got them, a few years ago, nobody knew what I could do but with time I learned. They come pretty handy when I only have 2 hands and 10 things to hold." Said Anna using her powers to juggle the cups, earning a soft smile from Cathy.

The two women entered the living room again to be met with an uncomfortable silence. All of the women were sitting on their phones but it seemed like Anne and Kat were playing something together and didn’t really notice their two teammates entering.

“Hello! We have drinks.” Announced Anna, making everyone turn their heads towards her.

The two women put everything on the coffee table next to them and everyone made their way towards, eager to drink something warm while Cathy brought milk and sugar for anyone needing them. However, a problem arose when Katherine poured herself coffee.

“You will not be drinking that, young lady.” Said Jane, taking the cup from the teenager's hands. Kat just looks at her with a betrayed look. “You are a kid, you cannot drink that. Drink tea instead. It will be healthier for you.”

“I don’t like tea.” Kat stubbornly replied, not liking what the other woman was doing but knowing better than to fight with a super-soldier.

“She can have my hot chocolate if she wants. I’ll get coffee.” Cut in Anna, before Jane could say anything and wanting to stop any new conflict from happening… again.

“I’m okay with hot chocolate. Thanks.” Mumbled the teenager, sitting on a couch with her new drink, Anna sitting on the opposite end with a nice cup of steaming coffee.

When Jane turned around, pleased with herself, Anna used her powers to swap two cups and winking at Kat, making the young woman smile at her new friend. When they turned around, they could see Anne, Cathy and Bessie covering their smiling faces with their selected mugs as they drank their chosen beverages..

“Um, Miss Parr?” Asked Kat after their quick tea/coffee/hot chocolate break. “Do you have any sewing supplies here? Preferably a needle and some red and blue thread?”

“Why are you asking? Do you need it for something?”

The girl sighed and reached towards her backpack. From there she removed something. It was her Spider-Woman costume.

“It was destroyed in a few places today while I was patrolling. I was meaning to do something about it when I got home but I’m here instead.” The teenager said with a small chuckle and turned to look at Parr.

Cathy looked as if she was hit by a bus.

“This… is your suit?” She asked, pointing towards the fabric.

“Yeah. Made it myself. Bought all the fabric, sewn it together and all that.”

“...”

“Is Parr okay?” Asked Anne when she saw that Cathy.exe stopped working. Anna just shrugged and waited for the situation to continue.

“Am I OKAY?! OF COURSE, I AM NOT! I DON’T CARE WHAT ALL OF YOU THINK BUT I AM NOT LETTING A TEENAGER GO OUT THERE TOMORROW IN A SUIT MADE OF COTTON!” Screamed Cathy.

“It’s actually polyester” Replied Katherine but stopped when Parr looked at her with murder in her eyes.

“Is polyester that good? Wouldn’t she sweat a lot in it?” Whispered Anna to Anne and the other woman just nodded, questioning the life choices of the youngest member of the team.

“Howard, you are going with me now and I do not care what you think about it.” Ordered Catherine, dragging the younger woman with her.

“Please don’t kill me! I’m too young and pretty to die!”

“You won’t be dying kid, we are going to be making you a suit. And be we, I mean you give me a design and what you need, I choose the materials and other stuff while BRIAN will make it happen. Okay?” Asked Cathy as the two of them left the room, leaving the others to themselves. A minute later Cathy came back. “Oh, and if any of you want to rest, straight ahead there are guest rooms. Just pick one. If you need me, ask BRIAN and he will lead you to me.” She said and disappeared again, not staying to hear what the other women had to say.

Anna and Anne laughed at that, Bessie shook her head, Lee and Salinas started talking quietly with each other whilst Aragon quietly sipped her tea. Only Jane looked towards the corridor where Cathy had just left, her blue and grey eyes flashing yellow for a moment before she blinked and the unusual colour disappeared.

#six the musical #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anna of cleves #katherine howard #catherine parr #six the musical fanfiction

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