#i was barely able to hold myself back from making a sixth page because apparently im a masochist

[welcometogrouchland]

Late night conversations with the bestie about slowly becoming an avatar of terror <3 part 2 of the spiral!Sasha au, this time featuring more Tim, more angst, and more knife hands (please click for quality (and look in the tags for Lore™)) image ID by @mag170

[ID: a five page digital comic of Sasha James and Tim Stoker from The Magnus Archives in a spiral!Sasha AU. The background is a dark purple and there's coloured iconograpy of various entities on the panels, specifically spirals, eyes, webs, and theatre masks. Tim is Malaysian with several round scars, short black hair, a lavender shirt and a green hooded vest, Sasha is Black with long curly brown hair, round glasses, a light blue longsleeve, and a purple skirt.

1: A full page drawing shows Sasha lying on her back on a dark blue couch with her hands folded on her stomach, Tim sits with his back against the armrest and his hands under his legs. Sasha says: "I don't know. Lately I've just been feeling like the rug is constantly getting pulled out from under me, what with Jon and... the incident with detective Tonner." Tim replies: "I feel you. Things have gone to hell lately. I'd like to knock out Elias's teeth as much as the next guy and, quite frankly, I wouldn't mind an apology from Jon for all the stalking but... *sigh* ...I don't know. At least we have each other." Sasha: "True. I just wish I could know what was going on, that I could get a straight answer out of Elias... that things weren't so uncertain... all the doubt and anxiety... it reminds me of the corridors."

2: The first two panels show Tim, looking to the side as he says: "I get it. After my brother... every face looked rubber to me. Everyone smiled too wide. I felt so alone." He turns his head to the side and continues: "Going through that... it changes you. And not for the better, no 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'. But I'm here and so are you. Y'know, despite it all." The next panel shows Sasha from above, she's blushing and raising one hand and says: "Yeah..." This is followed by a close up of her raised hand shown against the ceiling, the panel is cut off by another showing the same hand with spirals on the knuckles and long pointed extensions on her fingers, the ceiling is replaced by a yellow and pink spiral and the panel is surrounded by pink spirals. A close up of Sasha's eyes shows her looking shocked.

3: Sasha shoots upright, staring at her hand and screaming. Her speech bubble has a faint multicoloured spiral in it. Tim turns around with a worried look and asks: "Sasha?" The next panel shows Sasha from the front, still staring at her hand. Tim has stood up, clutching one hand to his chest, and asks: "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Sasha looks behind her, surrounded by spirals and a wide, toothy grin, and replies: "Oh, um, I'm fine, just-". Tim looks her in the eye and cuts her off: "Bullshit."

4: Three panels are spread diagonally over the page, the other two corners are filled with text that fades out at the edges over a purple spirally background with a white hand with long pointed fingers. The text is from Sasha's statement in the spiral AU, the image in the top right corner is upside down. In the top left corner Tim continues: "Pretending you're fine when you're not is a classic Stoker move, and I don't intend to let you get away with it. You don't have to be 'fine' all the time, Sash. You know I'm here for you." Sasha looks away, above her are two pieces of text, one reads: I'm here for you. The other reads: Ha ha. She then turns back with her eyes closed and answers: "I know."

5: Five panels, first two close ups of their hands. Sasha reaches for Tim, her hand displays white phantom fingers that are long and pointed, around her arm are pink spirals. Tim's arm is surrounded by pink mannequin hands, between their hands are ellipsis. Sasha then firmly grabs Tim's hand. Their hands are surrounded by an orange wavy line and eyes, while an angry looking face with spiral eyes and a wide toothy mouth looks on from Sasha's side and a sad theatre mask with an X for an eye looks on from Tim's. The next two panels are close ups of Sasha and Tim respectively. Sasha is smiling and has a fond look as she says: "I'm here for you too." Tim blushes and smiles back, glancing sideways at Sasha. The final panel shows them silhouetted and looking at each other, Sasha on the couch, Tim against the armrest. End ID]

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

Stay with me - tony stark x fem!reader

A/N: I've re entered my marvel phase once again and I'm not mad about it! I'm so desperate to see Black Widow it looks so good! Anyway enjoy this. The details about panic attacks are based on my personal experiences but they can effect different people in different ways.

Warnings: Panic attacks, swearing

***= Time Skip

Word Count: 2680

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Guys I’m going to be fine. I always am. It was a one-time thing, I promise” I sighed as Nat, Steve and Bruce followed me into the kitchen of the avengers compound.

“We just want you to be okay, it didn’t exactly look like you enjoyed the experience.” Nat said sitting opposite me.

“You almost passed out. That happening while your out is the last thing any of us want for you.” Bruce added. I sipped my drink, not wanting to continue this conversation. The team had becoming increasingly cautious around me since I had a really bad panic attack last week. The truth is I’ve been dealing with them since I was a kid, before I’d even met any of the avengers, I just learnt how to hide them. But last week, things got too much, and I lost control. I don’t remember much but evidently everyone found out. They thought this was a new thing to me and were now trying to wrap me up like some sort of fragile object.

“I’ll be fine. I’m going to be with Casey, and I’m literally just going to be sat in an office all day. The hardest thing I will have to do is battle her shitty coffee machine” I joked, trying to get them to drop the subject. My best friend Casey had asked me to come into work with her to sort through a bunch of files that her boss had dumped on her after she broke up with him. I have no clue what she actual does but she was apparently ‘up to her tits’ in paperwork so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to join her. Just then my phone rang.

“Hey Case, I’m just about to leave. Yeah I’ll meet you at the station. Okay cool. Bye” I hung up and grabbed my bag. “Well, this has been fun, but I have a train to catch so I’ll see you all later.” As I turned to leave I felt someone grab my arm, pulling me back.

“You’re not getting the train. Get happy to take you.” Steve said causing me to roll my eyes.

“Steve I’m not a child, I’m capable of getting a train. Plus, it’s not Happy’s job to chauffeur me around, he has tony for that.” I replied.

“Who has me for what?” Tony piped up walking in.

“Nothing, I have to go.” I said before once again turning to leave.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y call happy and tell him to get the car ready.” Tony said not looking up from his phone.

“Right away Mr Stark”

I groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

“Hey for once I agree with capsicle. We don’t need you dying on a train now do we?”

“I hate you.”

“Ouch my heart.”

It was starting to piss me off at how the were treating me. I get that they just wanted to look out for me, but it was just making me feel even more pathetic than I already did. I slumped down onto the sofa irritated. Suddenly I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Looking up I saw Nat leaning again the back of the sofa, looking down at me.

“I know it might feel like we’re being unfair or irrational, but we just want you to be safe. We need you.” I smiled slightly at her words.

“Thanks Nat.” She nodded at me before walking off.

“Miss Y/L/N. Happy is ready for you.”

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y” I grabbed my stuff, yelling a quick goodbye to everyone before making my way downstairs and into the back of the black Mercedes parked outside the compound.

*******************************************************************

“Seriously did you have to dump him 2 weeks before you were due to leave? There’s so much crap here.” I groaned jokingly, sifting through the many papers laid out in front of me.

“It’s not my fault he was boring. I just couldn’t hack it anymore” Casey replied chuckling.

“Why did I agree to this?” I said leaning back in my chair.

“Because you love and care about me.” She said smiling at me

“Hmm that’s debatable.” I joked, causing her to swat my arm with the file she was holding. Thankfully, there was a small knock at the door that saved me from any further attacks.

“Excuse me Casey, boss man needs you in his office. He didn’t sound too happy.”

“Okay thanks, I’ll come now.” She replied. As she left the room she shot me an anxious look to which I responded a very supportive thumbs up. I know, I’m great.

*******************************************************************

I don’t know how long Casey had been gone but I’d suddenly began to feel a trickle of anxiety wash through my bones. I’d felt uneasy as soon as she’d left but I tried to push the feeling away and throw myself back into the paperwork. But every time I looked at the page, my eyes couldn’t focus. All the words were merging together in front of me.

“Please not now.” I mumbled to myself. I could feel my heart hammering a mile a minute against my ribcage as my hands began to shake uncontrollably. My throat felt as if it was collapsing in on itself as I tried my best to get oxygen into my lungs. I wanted to get up, to run outside, but I felt like if I moved I was going to be sick everywhere. So, I stayed there, trapped, with my head in my hands praying for this to be over. After what felt like a lifetime, the feeling began to dissipate – only to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of tiredness. Physically unable to hold myself up any longer, I let my head fall against the desk. I felt so drained, so weak I wasn’t sure how I would get home at this point. Where the hell was Casey?

---AT THE AVENGERS COMPOUND(third person pov)---

“Mr Stark. You told me to alert you when Miss Y/L/N’s heart rate began to climb. It has rapidly increased over the past few minutes and does not appear to be settling” F.R.I.D.A.Y said. Tony rushed over to the screen that was currently displaying Y/N’s heart rate.

“Oh shit.” He said to himself, running his fingers through his hair. A moment later, Steve entered the lab.

“Everything alright stark?” He asked leaning against one of the desks.

“Not at all. Y/N’s having another panic attack right now.” Tony explained, visibly stressed.

“What?” Steve said standing up straight.

“I have to go get her.” Tony said pulling his jacket on. Before Steve could even reply, Tony headed for the door.

---BACK AT THE OFFICE(first person pov)---

I’d been able to prop my head up in my hands once again, but I was barely able to keep my eyes open. All I wanted was to go home. Suddenly I heard the door open.

“Oh my god Y/N. What happened? Are you okay?” Casey said rushing to my side, clearly noticing my dilemma.

“N-no” I stuttered. My voice came out as a sort of broken whisper. I’d never felt more drained. I heard the door open once more.

“Casey?-“

“Not now, I’m busy”

“No seriously-“

“Did you not hear me? Go away john”

“But Tony stark is looking for you.” He spat out. Relief spread throughout me at the mention of his name. Casey jumped up and ran out, soon retuning with Tony.

“Thank god” I breathed. Tony knelt down beside me in an instant.

“Hey you.” He said softly. “Let’s get you home okay?” He smiled at me sympathetically. I nodded and went to reach for my stuff.

“I’ll get that, put your jacket on.”

“Didn’t bring one.” I mumbled.

“Of course, you didn’t” He said sarcastically as he pulled his off and wrapped it around my shoulders. I slipped my arms in and hugged it tight to me, enjoying the heat it was providing.

“Come on then.” I felt Tony slip his arm around my waist as he pulled me to my feet. I wrapped one of my arms around his shoulders as the other fell by my side. “You okay?” He asked.

“Just get me home.” I whispered.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He joked. We made our way down the hall, tony taking the most of my weight.

“Thank you for coming.” I said as we got into the elevator.

“Anytime gorgeous.” He replied with his signature grin.

“How come you are here though? How did you know I needed you?” I asked.

“I have a sixth sense. Like peter, expect I sense panic attacks” he said chuckling.

“Seriously tony. I didn’t even call you.” I pressed. He fidgeted uncomfortably next to me.

“Okay don’t be mad at me. Because if you think about it if I hadn’t done it I wouldn’t have known you were freaking out and you’d probably still be stuck there, and I know that that’s the last thing you would want so technically I-“

“Just spit it out stark”

“I tracked you.”

I starred at him. “You tracked me?” He nodded sheepishly. “Wha- How?” I stuttered.

“You know I gave you that new watch? Well, I may have changed some things” He said avoiding my eyes.

“What things?”

“Well, I just made sure it would be able to give me your location. A-and if your heartrate reached a certain point, F.R.I.D.A.Y would let me know.” He explained. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t even mad, but I like the fact he thought I was. “Look before you have a go at me I just wanted to keep you safe.” I smiled at his words.

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“Oh, thank god.”

********************************************************************

The journey home was harmless. The fresh air had done me the world of good. Even those I was still worn out; I was feeling a lot more human. When we pulled up to the compound, Tony rushed to my side to open the door and help me stand.

“I’m okay tony you can relax now” I chuckled.

“I just don’t need you passing out on my watch, Steve won’t let me hear the end of it” He joked.

“Nice to know you care about me.” I replied. As soon as we walked in, I saw Steve talking anxiously with Nat and Wanda.

“Y/N thank god.” Nat rushed over to me, pulling me in for a hug.

“I’m alive guys false alarm.” I said light-heartedly, letting her go.

“Do you know why this keeps happening to you all of a sudden?” Wanda asked. Before I could answer she gasped slightly. “Oh…” Shit. I forgot she could read minds. She’d figured it out.

“What is it Wanda?” Steve asked. Wanda starred at me for a moment. I really didn’t know if she was going to tell them so I cut her off before she could.

“Casey was having an affair with her boss.” I blurted out, causing them all to look at me. “That’s why I went in with her today, she broke up with him and to get back at her he’s been giving her a shit ton of paperwork for no reason. While I was there he called her into his office, leaving me alone. I guess I was just so stressed about what they were talking about I worked myself up.” I lied. Wanda nodded in agreement with me, but the look she gave me made me think that this conversation definitely wasn’t over.

“Okay well I’m going to get this one into bed, see you guys later” Tony said coming up behind me, placing his hand on my back. We made our way up to my room where I promptly flopped onto my bed, gladly expecting the comfort it provided.

“Nope come on get up.” Tony said tugging my leg.

“What? I thought we came up here so I could sleep? I’ve had a long day tony.” I groaned.

“Yes but you need to change. I’m not having you sleep in jeans. The thought of it alone is enough to give me nightmares.” He replied, pulling me so I was sitting upright. “You stay there, don’t fall asleep.” He said before quickly dashing out of the room. I sighed, leaning back on my elbows. Tony was my best friend, sure, but that didn’t stop him being a massive pain in the arse. He soon returned, holding what looked like pyjamas.

“Why have you brought those? I have my own clothes you know.” “No shit sherlock. But I know that you like to wear these when your ill so I figured you might want some comfort after what happened today.” He said setting them down beside me. His words caused me to stare at him for a second. The genuine care in his voice was enough to make my stomach flip. The fact that he’d even thought of something like that caused a few tears to come to the surface.

“Stop starring at me, it’s creepy” He said with a chuckle. When he looked over at me, his face dropped. “Y/N? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He knelt down in front of me, taking my hand in his.

“I just- Thank you. For the clothes. The fact that you noticed that means the world to me.” I said softly, gazing at our hands.

“I always notice” He mumbled. I looked at him fondly, a strange feeling growing inside of me. We settled in a comfortable silence for a moment. For some reason, my view on tony shifted. That one gestured made my entire opinion of him change. I’d always known I cared for him deeply, more so than myself. And I won’t sit here and tell you I’ve been in love with him since I first met him, because that sure as hell isn’t the case. We’d been friends. Nothing more, nothing less. But now, seeing this side of him, maybe there was a possibility for us to be something more. Whatever that was we didn’t need to figure out right now. But I wanted him with me.

“I’ll leave you to get changed.” His voice snapped me from my thoughts as he dropped my hand from his.

“No, wait don’t go.” I said hurriedly going to pull him back.

“I’ll just be on the other side of the door.” He chuckled. I let him go and went about changing. He’d left me one of his old Metallica t shirts. It wasn’t too big for me, but big enough to be comfortable. I paired with a pair of basketball shorts I’d bought him a couple years ago for Christmas. Not that he actually played basketball, I just thought they were cool. I went over to the door and opened it, not expecting tony to fall back onto my feet. I laughed as he scrambled to stand up right.

“You could’ve knocked or something.” He said straightening his shirt.

“I didn’t expect you to be on the floor” I laughed.

“Whatever” He rolled his eyes, sitting at the edge of my bed. Once I’d calmed myself down, I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. He moved so his arm was round my shoulder, allowing me to move closer.

“I like this.” I said softly.

“Like what?” “

This. Being with you.”

“So do I” He whispered.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the silence.

“No, you’re not falling asleep like this. Lie down” Tony said shrugging me off his shoulder. I didn’t even have the effort to argue as I slid back and pulled the covers over me.

“You’re coming to.” I stated, looking expectantly at him. He rolled his eyes before climbing in beside me. I curled into him, placing my head on his chest as I wrapped my arms around him. I felt him place his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. After the shit show I’d been through earlier, this was the exact peace I’d been craving. No matter where things went from here, Tony would always be my rock. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better.

[pomegranate-salad]

Seeds of thoughts : Wicdiv #36

Hello everyone ! Sorry for the lack of SOT last month. What happened was… I didn’t know what to say about the issue that hadn’t already been said. Sorry. Happens to the best of us. Anyway, we’re back with an issue that’s practically begging to be analysed, so that’s good. And just a reminder, if you’d like to help me not be broke, you can make a small donation here.

Thoughts and spoilers under the cut, you know the drill.

THROUGH METICULOUS ANALYSIS OF HISTORY

 As expected of our wonderful fandom, some of my fellow bloggers (hi, @twatd and @myfirstsearchengine) have already started doing god’s work and untangle the absolute deluge of information we get in this issue. Bless their souls. But for me as always, especially when it comes to formalist devices, I find myself more interested in how things feel than what they say. That doesn’t mean we should bypass the analysis of the construction to get directly to a resulting, all-encompassing feel of the issue (otherwise, what would be the point of these posts ?) but I think it’s always a good start, especially with information-rich issues like this, to wonder what may be the big picture that’s so painstakingly painted through this abundance of individual elements.

So, how do we emerge from this issue ? Of course, everyone’s feel will be different here, but I think one popular realization will be just how fucking long six millennia actually is. On first read, as I flipped through the first half of the issue with increasing speed, I kept reading dates so far away from anything I could conceptualize they meant nothing to me until we thankfully reached the Anno Domini part of the program and I regained footing in time. Add to that the fact that I would be unable to point on a map to a good dozen of the places mentioned and you get… a recipe for emotional detachment. Of course, one of the joys of this issue is to go back and pick out the multiple details hidden in each panel, to cheer every time Persephone retaliates, to unravel patterns, to marvel at the outfit design and background changes, all these elements that actually allow us to connect with what’s going on. But as always, the interface between a reader and an issue is its whole and not a sum of its parts. Our emotions express themselves faster than our thoughts, meaning when we go back to identifying those parts, our connexion to the issue is already formed. As it happens, this connexion is to a gallery of nameless, often headless figures that have nothing in common if not for the pattern they’re repeating, and not to the individuals that form this pattern. A state of mind that’s probably very similar to the one Ananke entertains during all those recurrences.  A state of mind she HAS to keep in order to maintain her own pattern.

 Is the message this repetition has to impart us just that, a form of numbness to these killings, the taste of an endless battle and the suspected pointlessness of it all ? I think there’s a bit more going on here. Let’s try to connect the first half of the book with the second one. A priori, they seem disconnected. But the fact that Mothering Invention’s device seems to be the juxtaposition of past and present storylines means the creators are trying to establish some sort of echo between the two. In issue #34, the creation of the head sacrifice is paired with its discovery by the main characters in present time. Issue #35 is a study of two Minervas, and the circle of plotting and murder they’re trapped in. Issue #36 is the study of two monsters.

Is the wheel page in the middle of the issue describing Ananke or Baal ? The ambiguity is definitely not accidental. And if the construction of the two halves seem to be complete opposite, that probably not a coincidence either. The most obvious mirroring are the red pages, an entire page for a death, compared to the first half which crams six or more deaths per page. But really, that’s just the beginning of the parallels. The first half is made of a regular grids of small panels in which you can barely distinguish faces, while panel disposition in the second half is as irregular as they come, but focus on large, detailed panels, with Baal’s figure in particular blown out and dominating each page. The first half is all variety of colours and tones, while the second one is painted in an overpowering red. In the vast majority of panels, Ananke is depicted from the side, entirely focused on her task, while Baal is always facing the reader, sometimes almost as if he was addressing us directly instead of Persephone. But the most textual opposition is of course how much justification and explanation there is on Baal’s part, while Ananke, past the first page, doesn’t say a word. In his first apparition, Baal is even doing the Hamlet routine of holding a skull before starting his monologue. These two characters seem like they couldn’t be more different, yet the comic links them through this middle wheel page. Baal is all justification and self-aggrandizing, Ananke seems content with her selfish motivation. Baal gives an entire page to the weight of taking each life, while Ananke rarely expresses anything. Which is better ? It doesn’t matter, I think is the takeaway here : they’re both killers. And if you peel off the surface, they’re both exactly as selfish, cruel and inexcusable.

 This doesn’t say great things about Baal. But I don’t think it says great things about Ananke either. Baal is arguably being manipulated into killing – does anyone buy the reality of the Great Darkness at this point ? – and is not nearly as jaded as Ananke is after six millennia. Is the only thing separating them time and experience ? If we come back to this first half, many people have noticed that Ananke seems to be consolidating some techniques and get more efficient overtime. But is that really true ? I’ve pulled the numbers : in the first third of her career, Ananke screws up about 13% of the time ; in the second third, 18% ; and in the last third, 9%. Those are remarkably similar odds. Can we even say she’s getting better at this ? Even if that’s true, the present recurrence seems to demonstrate that she’s never safe from a major setback. Nothing separates her from junior murderer Baal. She would have Minerva – and so, herself – believe that it will always be okay. That she’ll always win, in the end, even when she fails. But that’s simply not true. When she’ll fail for good, she’ll be done, just like Baal. And then these millennia of deaths, hers and Persephone’s, will mean nothing.

 It’s remarkable that both Ananke and the comic would have us looking for more than there is in this litany of murders ; dumping truckloads of apparent information on us and inviting us to raid them for parts. And there is a part of me that definitely wants to do that. Because information and particularity gives meaning, it hints at more explanations, as a way to make sense of it all. But deep down I know that there will never be enough meaning in those panels for me to be satisfied.

Through this issue, it’s as if the comic is pulling all the stops on itself : it doesn’t matter how much it goes back in time and gives us fragments of this “big mystery” it’s set over the course of the previous arcs. Because it can give us everything, every recurrence there ever was, and all those murders will never mean more than what they are : murders. It doesn’t matter if it’s your first, your tenth or your sixty-fifth. It doesn’t matter if it takes you a whole empty page or get crammed into one-sixth of one. It’s still murder and you are still a murderer. And when you fuck up, everyone will cheer. And if you know it, that doesn’t make you nobler or more experienced, it just makes you an even bigger asshole.

I said one thing about this issue was how much it gives us ; yet, at the same time, it’s the comic’s admission that it gives us nothing, or at the very least not what we’d really want, because it doesn’t exist. What we see is all there is. The only thing separating Baal from Ananke is that they are fooling themselves in a different way. And again, there’s a part of me that’d really want to fool myself with them. With almost ten issues of Wicdiv remaining, I feel bad for giving it an early conclusion, but here it is : whatever is “really” going on, whatever the bottom line is, it doesn’t matter and never has. All there ever was is a desperately, cruelly simple tale of scared people. It doesn’t make them excusable. But it certainly makes them human.

  WHAT I THOUGHT OF THE ISSUE

 As I said, this issue stands out by how rich and poor in content it simultaneously is. As is often true of high concept issues, in terms of analysis, it immediately gives you something to discuss, but it doesn’t necessarily give you much more than what you first saw. What’s good about this issue is also what limits it, and makes it a nice, but also kind of one-note experience. As such, it compares unfavourably to other highly formalist issues like issues #14, #23 and especially #27, all of which were more evenly structured and solid in concept. I almost wish this issue had taken its premise further, and given us a cover-to-cover wall of Persephones. The parallel with the Baal scene is thematically rich, but it does give the feeling that the main storyline is stumping a little bit, and that the main reason we’re getting all those flashbacks is to artificially lengthen the comic.

That said, I’m not particularly disappointed by this issue either. It always takes a Wicdiv arc a bit of time to find its footing, and with the high concept flashback out of the way, the rest of the arc should set about its cruising speed. Plus, you can absolutely feel the amount of work that went into those pages, and while the result should be able to stand on its own, I really don’t feel like badgering on what was clearly hell on earth to build. Yes, it’s a borderline masturbatory nerdfest that saw the point of diminishing returns and blew it at full speed while laughing maniacally, but I think we can allow at least one of those in the Wicdiv run. It’s the kind of issue that I don’t see myself forming a strong attachment to, but I’m still glad it exists. And for what I’ve seen, aside from isolated opinions, that seems to be the general wisdom.

 So let’s turn to the one part of the issue that DID attract the wrath of the Tumblrdom : Laura’s pregnancy. Boy, did you kick the hornet’s nest with this one, guys. I find it funny that as the fandom’s resident grump, the first big outcry we get about the Wicdiv run is one in which I find myself standing firmly with the creators. And since it seems I’m kind of alone on this one, allow me to make the case that as a story development, Laura’s pregnancy is… OKAY.

 Let me first be clear : I’m not saying I’m happy with this development. Until we get the full picture of how it’s been handled, I’ll really have no opinion on the matter. What I do believe is that at this point, there is no reason to condemn Laura’s pregnancy as an inherently wrong move for the comic. I absolutely get why there was such a knee-jerk reaction from the fandom : it’s so, so very rare for a pregnancy storyline to be well done, to say nothing of a teen pregnancy storyline. For every one of us, the very mention of peeing on a stick is enough to bring back to mind dozens of female characters ruined by such a creative decision. So I get why people are being cautious ; I am too. But on the other hand, I find it really premature to set ourselves for outrage and disappointment.

From what I can tell, a lot of “oh HELL NO” reactions are rooted in the belief that this twist diminishes Laura’s characterization and strips her of agency. But personally, I see this development as completely in line with her character as previously established, and I don’t think she’s less of a subject for it.

For a start, we have to consider how much has been going in Laura’s life aside from her pregnancy. We don’t know how long she’s known about it, but reasonably it should have been around the end of January. She did a LOT of shit in-between, and none of it played as a direct consequence of her being pregnant. The way she describes her state is almost tangential, a Colombo-esque “oh, and one more thing”. Rereading her actions in light of her pregnancy doesn’t mean we should interpret it all as revolving around it ; if we do that, we are the ones stripping her of agency.

@immoralitea made another interesting argument : that the pregnancy was cheap cope-out to Laura’s suicidal behaviour by giving her a reason to live, thus derailing her entire battle with depression that’s been established as key to her character ever since the first act. That’s a compelling point, but I read Laura’s pregnancy completely differently : as another profoundly self-destructive behaviour. And I don’t know if that’s controversial to say, but in my opinion many storylines would benefit from addressing head-on how much self-destructive tendencies are a component of teen pregnancy. Pregnancy will put your body through the grinder, alter the course of your life, and alienate you from many people. And that’s if you’re lucky. If you aren’t, it’s also going to saddle you with an abusive partner or make you dependent on exterior resources for many more years. The last thing to get you through a depression is pregnancy. Of course all of this would be moot if the author didn’t realize it, but I think he does : nothing in Laura’s behaviour indicates she’s willing to change it for the sake of her potential child. On the contrary, she’s endangering it and herself by engaging in more self-destructive behaviour. That’s also why I think the “some of you will hate me for it too” line that also got some readers upset shouldn’t be read as the author’s opinion that Laura is to be shamed for her pregnancy ; for me, it reads as Laura’s opinion about a behaviour she sees for what it is : another way to destroy and hate herself. And just like she said before, she wants people to hate her ; it validates her suicidal behaviour. She’s doing everything she can so we will hate her, including getting pregnant.

Another clue in that direction is the way she discloses her state to Baal : when she says she “wants to live” it isn’t because she’s pregnant, but because every person battling with depression is torn between compulsions of life and death. And I may be mistaken, but I don’t think she wished to reveal her pregnancy to Baal at all ; I think she’s simply appealing to his “man of the house” self-image in order to be spared. From beginning to end, this is about her. Hell, she still has over two months to decide if she wants the baby at all.

Now I’m not going to lie, I’m not a fan of the over-symbolism of the goddess of death and rebirth being both suicidal and pregnant. And yes, if you ask me, I’d much rather have Laura get an abortion, because I don’t see how carrying her pregnancy to terms would benefit her in any way. But if Laura’s previous characterization taught us something, it’s that characters in Wicdiv rarely do what we want them to do and what’s objectively better for them. The gods have made the wrong decisions on drugs, cheating, dating, killing, trusting, overworking, and everything else under the sun, and we went with it, even if we weren’t happy about it. As I see it, pregnancy shouldn’t be over the line just because so many hacks have poisoned the well.

Again, maybe this storyline will develop for the worst and all I’ve said here will read as ridiculous wishful thinking in hindsight. But as of now, this plot development is simply this : a plot development, one that’s believable, in character, potentially interesting, and I think we should give it a chance. And if I end up being wrong… I promise I’ll write the mother of all takedowns.

[seekthemist]

Day 2 ~ Superhero AU

It wouldn’t be a @pynchweek​ if I didn’t end up publishing at unholy hours of the night, would it? Also, I’m a Very Dramatic Writer and I will prove myself as such all over again even within one shot ficlet, or so help me God.

Paging: @cabeswaterlovesthem​, @picapicae​ and @actuallymollyweasley​, let me know who else wants to be kept updated!  The fill (T-Rated!) is mostly under the cut to avoid the wall-of-text effect. 

You can also read this on Ao3!

Sometimes, in the hecticness that characterizes Adam’s days, he would really like to tell himself that he didn’t asked for any of this. Instead, he knows he kind of did, he let himself go through the rabbit holes of fever dreams, he listened to an omnipotent forest over and over again.

Cabeswater asked, at the end, “What role do you want in all this, child, now that you know?”

Adam only had one answer, “I will be your hands, I will be your eyes.”

And thus it all began.

                                                           ****

It would be so much easier if Adam could be college student by day, superhero by night, but as a general rule of thumb Adam’s life is never easy, and the Greenmantels are not nocturnal enough for their plans to be disrupted only after dark. As a result, Adam routinely juggles two jobs, college work, some highly magical shenanigans and tries to get some sleep when he can.

And, more importantly, he tries to leave his group of friend and his boyfriend happily oblivious of everything, because he trusts them with his life and needs to keep them safe at the same time.

Every step he took, he chose. He keeps choosing it every day. They didn’t, so it’s not their burden to take.

Sometimes, though, Adam wishes it were easier, with everything out in the open. It would be possible, then, to admit that Cabeswater is overwhelming, that having a sixth sense without always being able to interpret it is confusing. That he doesn’t know what he’s doing. That he’s tired, so tired.

His friends just thinks he’s overworked, and in some sense he is, but nothing of what they tried would really help. Still, it’s endearing when Gansey always makes sure he has all the right books around to study on, when Blue constantly comes over with leftovers, when Henry provides a virtually unlimited supply of coffee exactly when Adam feels he really needs it. Ronan, inexplicably, always manages to be there exactly when Adam needs him, when the ice he’s walking on is at its thinnest, and never really makes him feel like he’s losing it.

He’s lucky, to have so many anchors. Adam says it to himself over and over again, soaking in the comfort Ronan’s fingers caressing along his naked back in a late spring night. Sleep is proving difficult to catch, in a background rustling of countless leaves that are not really in the room with them, and Ronan’s chest raises and fall rhythmically in his sleep.

Adam doesn't know how he’s managing to cuddle him and sleep at the same time, but his bones still ache from the crazy chase for displaces magical artifacts and four double shifts during the weeks, so he just wants more. He shuffle even closer, hooking one leg around Ronan’s and hiding his face in the familiar crook of his neck.

Ronan turns his head in his sleep and kisses an indefinite point on Adam’s hair before stilling again. Heat spreads through Adam’s nerves like a wave, and if he weren’t so damn drained he would maybe wake Ronan up, get himself a proper kiss, maybe even another round of sex.

His own limbs flip him off at the sheer thought of moving, though, so he stays put and lets himself slumber. It’s easier, with Ronan’s mindless touches anchoring Adam in this place, in this moment.

Cabeswater is already tended for, after all. Adam can sleep, and be rested for tomorrow. He will have his first day off in months and go with Ronan to see the old train station, open only for a day before they start the renewals.

It will be all right.

                                                          ****

Except that it wasn’t.

If the ground weren’t shaking under his feet, the ceiling crumbling above his head while he tries to find cover with Ronan under an old ticket counter, Adam would scream in frustration.

He tried so hard to have everything in order for today, so hard that he managed to ignore whatever fuss Cabeswater has been having, so hard that he had been having unadulterated fun, for once.

So of course hell is raining down. He only has himself to blame.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Ronan’s voice itches in lungs. Adam has never felt him so panicked.

“The building is falling. The exit is blocked.” Adam doesn't like his own voice, detached and overly-clinical.

Cabeswater murmurs of current criticalities and damage control. The building will fall within ten minutes. The artifact that is wreaking havoc on the fundations is planted within one of the water mains with one of the Greenmantles devices — so much for thinking that he has neutralised them all.

Adam needs to do what he must. Even though Ronan is looking at him like he doesn’t know him, even though Adam might make him realize that he really doesn’t, even though this might be the end of his life like he knows it. He just does. So he gets up.

“Adam what the fuck are you doing?! Stay down!” Ronan scrambles to grab him, hands trembling.

Adam twines their fingers together. Just a bit, just two seconds, if this is the last time.

“You know it has been happening a lot, recently, right? And you know how it usually stops, don’t you?” He murmurs, barely audible above the rumbling of the constant, supernaturally localised earthquake that is shaking the world under their feet.

“I don’t see the fucking Magician here, though. Stay down, for fuck’s sake! Down!” Ronan is chalk white with terror, and still manages to munch through words just to try and get Adam to safety.

He cares, and Adam doesn’t know why it’s always so surprising. Maybe it’s just because he doesn’t deserve it.

Adam yanks his hands out of Ronan’s grip. “I’ll fix it. You’ll go back to your brothers, and the others, and Chainsaw. It’ll be okay.”

“Adam, please, what the fuck—”

“Ronan,” Adam murmurs, getting up. His eyes are burning, but maybe it’s just because Cabeswater is surging through his veins, making his fingers tingle with power. He strokes with one finger along Ronan’s cheek and retracts when his hands starts to cover in thorns. “I’m the Magician.”

He takes several steps away while Ronan looks at him, breathless and wordless.

“I’m so sorry,” Adam smiles, self-deprecating, and has the distinct sensation that the curve of his face is as disembodied as every other part of him, when it’s like this.

He spreads his arms. Vines jumps through the floor, along the walls, all the way up to the ceilings, his to use and his to command. Every colour is replaced by some shade of green in his eyes.

Somewhere in an impossible, echoing distance, Ronan screams.

                                                          ****

“Adam! Adam, come on…”

Adam open his eyes and the sky is blue above him, between the towering heights of two buildings, too close together. Ronan is looking at him and the pavement of the alley is coarse under his back.

Honestly, he must be hallucinating.

“Mary Mother of Jesus, shit...can you see me? Can you hear me?” Ronan’s voice is earnest and conceited, too many question as once. Adam would call it a Gansey moment, in another situation.

“Yes,” he croaks out, voice broken. “I’m...where are we?” He’s confused. It’s never a good sign when he’s confused.

“Fuck. Oh my God,” Ronan combs his hair backwards. This can’t be true, this must be a trick of his mind in a terrible state. No one would touch him after seeing what full access to Cabeswater’s power do to him, how he’s barely even human anymore. “Away from there. You...I don’t know, you crushed this weird shiny stone and the building stopped shaking, but you went down like a brick. I had to bring you out.”

Ambulance and police sirens scream in the distance. Adam confusedly turns his head to follow them. Maybe they are not safe, here. Real or not, damage control is always his top priority, apparently.

“Quit it, for fuck’s sake, look at me,” Ronan sounds remarkably like Ronan, turning Adam’s head back to watch him. “Are you okay? Come on, Adam, talk to me.”

“I...I think I’m okay.” The struggle to avoid Ronan’s eyes is so real and urgent that Adam even forces himself to sit up. The ground sways underneath him. “I’m sorry you had to see this.”

“You’re what?” Ronan snarls, rightfully angry and somehow still touching him, holding Adam by his shoulders when he sways. “Adam, I swear to God the moment you don’t look like you’re passing out I’m gonna kick your ass so hard…”

“I’m sorry,” Adam murmurs, miserably and yet confused. By the wording, by the sentiment, by the general way this scene is playing out. It doesn’t sound or look like he imagined Ronan after finding out.

“You didn’t tell me anything!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck sorry!” Ronan roars, and then tries to tune it down, possibly for the sake of not being heard. “You could have died, today! You could have died so many times! And you didn’t tell me anything!”

Adam finds himself looking up, looking at Ronan and his strange, unpredicted worries. It’s impossible not to sense the I’ve would have helped you that sits between the lines, but it’s disconcerting for Adam to realize that it’s true — that Ronan would have been there like he is now, that Ronan would have helped.

If his head weren’t pounding so badly maybe he would be able to say that he doesn’t need help, but at the moment he doesn’t have the strength. Not even to be self-denying, and that’s saying a lot.

“I didn’t want you to leave me,” Adam admits, shocking even himself one he hears his own voice.

“Fuck all the way off!” Ronan snaps, and yet hugs him tightly. “I’m not leaving you. I’m gonna fucking kill you, but I’m not leaving you.”

The lump in his throat expands so quickly that Adam can’t talk, tears swimming in his already burning eyes. He hides his head on Ronan��s shoulder. Ronan, impossibly, lets him.

“We’re going home, now. So you can rest. And tell me everything, shit, like, really everything.”

Cabeswater has the audacity to bubble happily among his shattered thoughts.

Adam close his eyes, and nods.