#they solved their entanglement and saved the universe in one day tops. they were fucking SPEEDRUNNING that shit

[daisy-mooon]

The Marvels trio consists of an amnesiac woman with PTSD, an overworked astronaut with major emotional trauma and a sixteen-year-old forced to confront the horrors of war when she should be fighting low-level crime at most. How the FUCK are they the most emotionally healthy and responsible team in the MCU.

#they solved their entanglement and saved the universe in one day tops. they were fucking SPEEDRUNNING that shit #marvel #captain marvel #carol danvers #monica rambeau #photon #ms marvel #kamala khan #mcu #shitpost #marvel cinematic universe #the marvels #the marvels ot3 #the marvels (2023) #1k #2k #3k #4k #fandom famous i am #hitposttag

[mfangeleeta]

Last Call for Vodka Update

Taking a pause from the super fun Some Sort of Au with @beatricethecat2 for my first update to Last Call for 2017. We’ve got a lot going on in this one. m. A one shot in my favorite universe, Somewhere in London, a season 4 cannon divergence, a cannon contemplation in two parts and alternative to the season that dare not speak its name.  This is also based on one of my all time favorite Bjork albums on repeat. Thanks for reading! 

Homogenic

If travel is searching and home what’s been found, I’m not stopping

The prep for assignments was for most the worst part of the job. You would have to study, plan, observe and repeat for months in order for things to go off without a glitch.

Or without you getting caught.

HG stood and stretched her back. She’d been working on an assignment in Peru that Yuri had begrudgingly given her. He had warned that she was too new as a solo act in the business and that this particular target had proved treacherous for the previous two people assigned this job.

One had been killed in action, the other caught and now sat in prison.

Her predecessors, despite their immense skill and experience, had clearly not set themselves up for success.  The terrain was tricky, the locals untrustworthy, and the escape routes extremely limited.

The prep was the worst part for most, for almost all but HG thrived on it. The careful study and observation, sussing out patterns and misdirection.  Finding those locals who could not only be bought but be swayed to her perception.  Creating escape routes where none thought possible.

That was what she enjoyed most, the planning. Execution was just a pull of a trigger or drop of a poison. That was the easiest part of any job. It was everything else that she lived for.

It was almost-almost-as good as an artifact hunt. Prowling the streets of London with Wolly or McShane or Donnelly.  Searching back alleys or roughing up those who weren’t corporative. Almost as good as those days.

But not quite.

Grabbing a water from the fridge she sat back down at her kitchen table. Pictures, maps and blue prints scattered behind her laptop.  Post it notes with comments and observations covering the table.  She touched a key and the computer sprang to life. It looked  as if she’d finally broken through the firewall. Soon she would have access to her target’s travel plans.

Settling in she refocused on the task at hand . Peru. The impossible target.

She was going hunting.

 You don’t have to speak, I feel

She was back, Helena was back from God knows where and Myka didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

There were hugs and some tears and an embarrassing celebration dance by Pete but Myka still couldn’t quite feel like this wasn’t some artifact induced hallucination.

In all of the excitement she’d been able to avoid speaking with Helena for any great length of time.  Despite being a member of two consecutive Warehouses there was still a considerable amount of paper work to complete and the Regents had to meet before everything could become official.

So after a mid morning surprise and a celebratory lunch in Univille, Helena had been whisked away by Artie and Mrs. Fredric and Myka was left to ponder what to do next in Summers 314.

They had never said anything or done anything that indicated that they could be more but Myka knew deep down that no one else ever had made her feel like Helena had.

A simple look would make her breath catch. A simple touch on the shoulder would make her head spin. And when she smiled.

Well, Myka didn’t want to think about those things at work.

 But they had never said or done ANYTHING that indicated they could be more.

 But why would Helena offer to sacrifice herself in the forest? And why did she keep having those horrible nightmares about Helena saving them all while she died in a fire?

For a moment she let herself remember that gut wrench dream and she nearly cried in the middle of the Warehouse.

They had never said or done anything that indicated that they could be more but Myka couldn’t wait any longer to find out.  She had to know.

Tonight after dinner, they would talk.

 I’m a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl

She loved Myka. Despite the darkness and the madness and the unquenchable thirst for the end of all things she loved Myka.  They had never discussed it, only acted on it with a few hasty and stolen kisses while on missions or at the bed and breakfast.

But her empty soul still held one spark of warmth for the thoroughly modern woman who was all that she’d hoped and dreamed for in the bronze.

Love was a distraction. A complication. Something that she was not capable of.

Yet here she was at Charles de Gaulle, the parts of the Minoan trident wrapped and packaged for transport to the Colonies.  She had been researching the most effective location for the strike and the semi-dormant caldera under Yellowstone National Park was perfect.

 She was in love with Myka Bering.

 Frowning, she pulled out her notebook to review her plans and countermeasures. The compact was already on its way to Pete’s paramour as a distraction. Knowing that Myka would never leave her partner in a desperate moment of need, she was sure she would be free to complete her mission. One that she’d dreamt about for over a century.

 The destruction of the world.

She was in love with Myka Bering.

 She had never met another who could challenge her, question her thought process while understanding it simultaneously.  Someone who could keep up with her in all aspects-mental, physical, spiritual-and was a liberated woman, free of familial and romantic entanglement.  Yes, it had taken her a few moments to process that her most beloved author was a woman but once that hurdle was overcome, it had been glorious. Not since her brother had she sparred and analyzed her thought processes for story concepts and the science behind them.

 She must avenge her daughter and reset this Godforsaken world.

She was in love with Myka Bering.

 Baby, you can’t handle love, it’s obvious

She supposed this was the anger part the five stages of grief.  

They had been so carefree, so perfect, so everything that Myka had wanted before Egypt and Yellowstone. For one bright and beautiful moment she’d let herself think of the possibility of forever.

(Well that had been an unmitigated disaster.)

So then she made due with a “consciousness” in what Claudia had called a Pokeball.  Helena in holographic form appearing from time to time to help their little Scooby Gang solve the artifact mystery of the weak.  The Horn had been rough but after than things seemed to settle.

Pete relented in his hatred and Claudia toned down the hero worship.

And you were skilled enough to hide the bitterness and pain that HG Wells brought to your world.

Then Emily Lake and Sykes and “old times” had given you a glimmer of hope.  After much soul searching you’d forgiven Helena of her trespasses because part of you (the incredibly foolish and childish part) had thought there still might be a future.

But as quickly as you’d vanquished Walter Sykes, your artificer had been taken away by the Regents. You knew (because you had pestered) that Artie had pushed for HG’s reinstatement as an Agent but instead she’d been given a special top secret mission.

Fuck all that.

Of course everything became clear thanks to Artie’s brush with madness. How this had been the timeline he’d created thanks to Helena’s ultimate sacrifice that made it possible. How he had changed time to make sure the Warehouse survived.

And how the love of your life had given hers to save you.  At least Artie had been honest about that part.

(And there was not enough time to process how you really felt about that. Jesus Christ on a cracker.)

 But that had been half a year and a lifetime ago. Helena had told you that Nate was an ordinary yet a good man. That Adelaide was a great kid. And that Boone, Wisconsin was where she had felt the most welcome, the most at home in this century.

And you wanted to barf. To punch something. To call Helena on her bullshit.

But you couldn’t because damn it all to hell you still loved her. And knew that at some point she’d realized the gigantic lie she was telling herself.

 Twist your head around, it’s all around you, all is full of love

You looked over at the woman who has captured your soul as you packed up the world you had known in this century.  In a past life you had helped select the very ground that the Warehouse had been built on. And at one point you might have held sway over the first generation of Agents who walked its aisles, but madness and bronze closed that door to you decades ago.

Instead you find yourself guiding a 26 year old in the art of training new Agents as you pack up centuries of history and magic. Given the current political climate in the United States it had been determined that Warehouse 14 was needed. After careful deliberation (and consideration for things such as climate change and population distribution)  Botswana would be its new home. And as with all Warehouse relocations, the home country chose its Agents.

Which left one of the most decorated and most vilified Agents in the history of the Warehouse without employment or a permanent residence. (The Bed and Breakfast would close since Abigail wanted to resume her career in photography.)

Pete and Steve had signed on to train the next generation of the Warehouse. This new world and new location would need the best of the best and the partnership of Latimer and Jinks had proven almost as skilled as Wells and Wolcott.

With far less insanity and time traveling tendencies.

So your main enterprise, the one that had sent you traveling the path of endless wonder. The occupation that had sent you through time both literally and figuratively was over.  There was no more need to traipse across the globe in hunt of curiosities.  

That job was complete and it was on to your most important task next to being a mother.

Loving Myka Bering (now Bering-Wells).

A job that you took far more seriously than any other in the 20th or the 21st century.

 “This is the last of it,” Myka sealed the final box in your shared room.  “Hard to believe our lives are over.”

“Far from it my love,” you smile, “we have just begun.”

#bering and wells #warehouse 13 #last call for vodka series #eternal au week #there's a lot going on here with call outs and references #forever otp