Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

Anonymous asked: You mentioned Parker and Sophie in your John Wick tags so can I request some Leverage for the headcanon ask?

Let’s go steal a headcanon meme.  (shut up, I’m hilarious)

A: what I think realistically

The brew pub’s microcosm, at this point, is bolstered by layers upon layers of gambling.  The old staff bets on how long new kitchen hires will last, and if you last out the first three months without quitting in a mild panic about what the fuck is happening here, you get formally inducted into the wider pool of bets.  The three top questions are:

The date of Nate and Sophie’s wedding: the pot is a handsome $700 despite the relatively small bets placed and regularly reupped (it took them two years to properly exchange names and thirteen years to sleep together, don’t tell me it wouldn’t be an ongoing question)

Who exactly is dating whom, among their three bosses: there are a scant three people who put their money on a poly triad, and they’ll be splitting the $1100 between them when someone figures Eliot and Parker and Hardison out

No, Really, What The Fuck Is Happening Here: There is one person who put their whole paycheck on “fuck it, they’re fucking criminal masterminds, they probably take down governments in their fucking free time” after seven pints of Thief Juice, and they are walking away with a cool two grand if they can ever actually prove it

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

So, the FBI thinks that Hardison and Parker are official agents.  Like, the FBI is so convinced of this, so convinced of this, that Hardison actually discovers they have valid badge numbers–they are all but being paid by the federal government as part of their Portland white collar crimes office.  Agent McSweeten and his partner have benefited handsomely from Hardison and Parker’s involvement, and they vouch for their ‘old buddies’ at every turn, to the extent that most of the feds they could run into in a number of cities (Boston, Portland, probably NYC) are like ‘yes, they’re undercover again, c’est la vie.’

Which is all well and good until Interpol shows up and has to work with the FBI on something quite unrelated, which results in Sterling tearing his hair out because “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THEY’RE NOT FEDERAL AGENTS THEY’RE CRIMINALS, OF COURSE THEY’RE CRIMINALS.”

The Feds honestly pity the poor guy.  Damn, their people are good, their undercover personalities even managed to convince Interpol, damn fine.  McSweeten tells Parker the story next time he sees her and she laughs for literally days.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

Eliot believes–no, he knows–that he’s going to die for Parker and Hardison.  He’s actually pretty comfortable with this, but he knows that if he ever brings it up out loud, the pair of them are going to mutually implode.  I wrote that into a fic, actually.  Also, listen, we all know this is canon.  “Until my dying day.”  Eliot, please be a little less obviously worshipful of these people.  Some of my Eliot Spencer feelings can also be found here.

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

I like to think that there’s a Leverage Mark II comprised of some of the kids they run into over the course of their jobs, I even wrote out like 2K words in headcanons for it.  Members include: 

Mastermind: Olivia Sterling, from The Queen’s Gambit Job

Hitter: Molly (who now identifies as Matthew), from The Carnival Job

Hacker: Trevor, from The Hot Potato Job

Grifter: Widmark (Mark), from The Fairy Godparents Job

Thief: Josie, from The Boost Job

Client: Luka, from The Stork Job, whose little sister has been kidnapped

I just really want this, okay?  I want to see them become the greatest criminals around under the tutelage of the Leverage squad and take up the torch when Eliot and Hardison and Parker decide to dial it back a bit and buy a restaurant somewhere.

(Related headcanon that Leverage habitually starts training up new generations and like in five hundred years humanity’s in space and the Leverage has an ancient oil painting hanging in their mess hall and whenever someone asks why they don’t transfer it to a hologram, the crew of the ship puffs up and declaims at length about their honored founder Harlan Leverage III and how they would never insult his memory like that!  In the afterlife, Nate S C R E A M S.)

skymurdock asked: for the headcanon meme: Steve Rogers the angry little chihuahua.

On Monday, the very angry Stevie got beaten up in one parking lot, but he was still angry.  On Tuesday, the very angry Stevie got beaten up behind two diners, but he was STILL angry.  On Wednesday, the very angry Stevie got put through three experimental procedures, but he was STILL angry.  Anyway, gonna do me some Steve Rogers for this ask meme.

A: what I think realistically

Adapting to the 21st century isn’t really difficult, once he can face the reality of it properly.  It reminds him, more than anything, of that first week after the serum–everything is too bright and too loud and too fast.  But now the world is unfamiliar to boot and there’s no one who cares enough has the time to help him adjust.  It’s a rough couple of months before he masters the situation.

Unrelated to the above, Steve was actually great friends with most of the chorus girls.  At first they were…uh…suspicious, to say the least, because he was a massive brick house of a dude who could lift a motorcycle and looked like the ultimate version of the assholes they put up with on the regular.  So they didn’t speak to Steve past the most basic courtesies for a week and a half.  

Then they went out drinking after their first performance in a new city and Steve sat quietly in the corner with a water until he saw Cheryl sitting stiff and toying with a fork as a man’s hand crept up her leg.

“Back off,” Cheryl said sharply.  The guy did not.

No one was more surprised than Cheryl when Steve loomed up from the corner like the wrath of God and sharply announced, “Buddy, if you’re not going to leave the lady alone, you and me are gonna have problems.”

The next day, Steve showed up to the theater ready to sit off to the side as usual.  Instead Cheryl plopped down in front of him, held out a handful of bobby pins, and said, “I need an extra set of hands to put my hair up.  You braid, Cap?”

“Um, not really,” Steve said, blushing.  “But I can learn.”

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

Highlights of Steve in the modern grocery store include:

- Steve And The Grudge Against Weird Bananas

- Steve And What The Fuck Do You Mean You Want Five Dollars For This Tomato

- Steve And Wow You Can Get Vaccines At A Grocery Store–Wait What Do You Mean People Believe Vaccines Are Dangerous

- Steve And Hey You There Leave That Cashier Alone Unless You Wanna Settle This Outside

- Steve And The Girl Scouts of America

- Steve And The Struggle of Grocery Shopping Without Getting Recognized

- Steve And Really What The Fuck Is Wrong With Bananas

Needless to say, Steve isn’t really allowed to do the grocery shopping anymore.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

SHIELDRA dumped all their files onto the internet, courtesy of Natasha’s salt-and-burn solution to HYDRA’s infiltration.  Steve has been in the modern world for a good few years by now, so he sits down and starts searching through it for information.

He shouldn’t be doing it.  He knows it’s just torturing himself.  He hasn’t known where Bucky is since Insight went down, and none of this will help him find the Winter Soldier if he doesn’t want to be found, Natasha assured him of that.  But…he just has to know.

Capture.  Surgeries.  The arm.  Missions.  Cryostasis.  “Programming.”  More missions, more cryo, more programming–torture, it’s torture, God, all this time he was mourning his best friend while Bucky was being tortured.

Steve lasts through five files before he throws up.

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

Y’all, Steve is Wanda’s weird adopted big brother and no one can stop me from believing it.  He shows her a bunch of Disney movies that she missed out on as a kid and she asks him for advice about Vision and he jokes about how he’s definitely the wrong person to be asking for romantic advice.  They have a good weird relationship.

Anonymous asked: Adrien (from Miraculous Ladybug) for the headcanon meme?

HELL YES.  For this ask meme.

A: what I think realistically

We all know, in our heart of hearts, that Adrien and Marinette are the local masters of all physical activity.  Like, I recognize that the kwami magic is what makes them super strong or agile or whatever, but like.  Y’all.  Some of that is just pure organic buff-as-fuck muscle.  Over the course of their first school year of having the Miraculous, Adrien and Marinette both get so fit they could easily be sports stars.  During a game of dodgeball, Adrien accidentally convinces everyone he’s a gymnastics master because he does a back handspring to avoid a ball, totally on instinct out of habit because combat.  Marinette starts wearing tank tops because Summer Ugh and Adrien walks into a door because holy shit Marinette has back muscles wow oh my god.  A bunch of them go swimming and everyone’s like “You are both tiny teens, how do you both have a sixpack.”  Adrien’s modeling agents are baffled by where he’s finding the time to pull this off, but like, hey, as long as he’s putting on lean muscle instead of bulking up, they’re not gonna…like…stop him.

Anyway flash forward to post-identity reveal when Marinette and Adrien are playing dodgeball again and she literally vaults over him to nail the last member of the opposing team and Adrien catches her on the drop and they run around celebrating like morons with Marinette on his shoulders while the entire school gapes at them.

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

Listen, I know we all like to talk about Marinette’s response when she finds out that Adrien is Chat Noir, but.  For a hot second.  Let’s just talk about how Adrien is going to react when he finds out that Marinette is Ladybug.  He thinks Marinette is great, clearly, even though her inability to speak to him has obviously convinced him that she doesn’t like him much.  But Adrien admires Marinette so much, she’s such a strong-willed person, she’s so clever, she’s so funny, and honestly if he wasn’t already so head over heels for Ladybug he’s be crazy about her.

After he finds out Ladybug’s identity, Adrien spends three hours lying flat on his back in his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.

“Plagg, she’s so cool.  Plagg.  Plagg, Marinette is Ladybug and she’s amazing.  Plagg.  Plagg, are you listening to me?  Plagg, I think I love her.”

Plagg is absolutely not listening to him.  Adrien doesn’t care.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

Fam.  Let’s talk about akuma!Chat Noir.  I have no idea if this is ever going to be a thing, but I want it to be a thing and I’ve been obsessed with it ever since I saw THIS AMAZING COMIC.  

Ladybug is wounded in battle with Hawkmoth, and Chat Noir…well.  The akumas are attracted to strong negative emotions, and for that moment, Adrien is nothing but a bit of driftwood being dragged out to sea on a riptide of grief and guilt and rage.  And Hawkmoth, he does like his dramatic irony, and what could be more ironic than this, one hero destroying another.

He miscalculates a bit, though.  His akuma melts into Chat Noir’s bell, and the magic sweeps over him, and, indeed, Adrien feels the akuma warp the lines of his thoughts.  Until all he feels is rage, white-hot and protective.  His lady is bloody in his arms and it’s all because of Hawkmoth and he is going to destroy anyone who comes near her.

Chat Blanc is going to make sure of it.

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

Anyway Adrien’s mother was a Miraculous holder and he got his sense of humor from her (”You know me,” she used to say, winking at him as she did her elaborate blue-green-violet eyeshadow, “vain as a peacock!”) and also she used to tell him about what it meant to be a good person.  He tries to live up to her memory every day.

littlestartopaz asked: Harry, Corlath, and Mathin! For the headcanon meme!

Topaz, coming through with the obscure fandoms!  For this ask meme, and Harry, Corlath, and Mathin are from The Blue Sword.

A: what I think realistically

I have said this before, but you can pry the headcanon from my cold dead hands.  The Damarians have some tradition in which the family of the bride (and normally the husband, but Corlath is the last of his family and it’s terrible) gives her away at the wedding.  Mathin stands in as Harry’s father, a parent from the Hills, and gives her away as the Daughter of the Riders after riding roughshod over Richard’s protestations.  Mathin cries a little and Harry cries a little and Corlath cries a little and no one ever says anything about it except in songs and stories where the devotion of them all is hailed as Serious Business.

Corlath very quietly slaps Mathin with a small title, whatever he can get away with, as the father of the new Queen.  It takes Mathin a full year to notice.

Alsooooo, Corlath can draw, although paper is expensive and therefore rare in the Hills.  He goes to the trouble of getting himself paper and charcoals during the winter rains for something to do with his hands and draws pretty much only Harry, Harry on Sungold, Harry bringing down the mountains, Harry laughing at dinner, Harry smiling at him stretched out on their bed.  Harry thinks it’s adorable.

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

I think we’ve discussed this but THE RIDERS HAVE TO GET BORED DURING THE WINTER RAINS.  

Y’all.  My dudes.  Hear me out here: the Riders playing pranks on each other.  Normally, the way these things shake out is “everyone is afraid of Corlath not because he’s the king but because he’s frankly terrifying between his tactical training and his kelar, but they’re more terrified of Mathin because Mathin is the ultimate Prank Lord.”  And then Harry shows up and radically changes the balance of affairs.

Because listen.  Harry has a bit of a learning curve to catch up with, so they go easy on her at first.  But then she lays a trap for Mathin after a little bit of idle conversation with Corlath and she gets him good.  Mathin, for three days, is dyed bright red with the concoction Harry managed to mix up.  And it’s war.  After a week and a half, Corlath and Harry make a truce of necessity–no pranks allowed in their own chambers–but otherwise Harry is an ally of whoever charms her most at the time.  The fact that the servants in the City all adore Harry means that she becomes the unquestioned champion by the end of her first winter.  Corlath doesn’t take it personally, honestly he’s kind of thrilled that she kicked his ass so handily–tbh Corlath is eternally that Will Smith picture when it comes to Harry, even when they’re fighting.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

Corlath is the last of his family.  His mother always had a fragile constitution, and died of a plague sweeping through the City.  His father died not long afterward–officially in battle, but everyone agreed that is was from a broken heart.  He just couldn’t face the world without her.  Corlath rose to power quite young, even by the reckoning of the long-lived Hill Kings, and quite alone.  The Riders were all he had left, and for all that they tried to be enough, it made the City ache to see their joyous child prince grow into a serious warrior king.  Corlath still smiled, of course, but not as easily, and his bright laughter was hard-earned–it wasn’t that Corlath was depressed, it was that he was controlled, and stiffly so, at all times.

It’s hard to have close friends, let alone anything near family, when you can’t be sure of meeting anyone’s eyes.  Both Corlath’s parents had kelar, and he envies them for that security–he, who carries more kelar than anyone in living memory, is always aware of how much damage he can do.  He drove a servant mad, once, by accident when he was a young boy, and cried for two days until his mother managed to restore most of the man’s mind.  Corlath has had few friends and fewer lovers, as a result.

Beyond all that Harry does to endear herself to the Riders, the thing that truly wins them over is that they haven’t seen so much emotion–anger and joy and frustration and everything in between–on their king’s face in long years.

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

First of all, canon is not shit and you can fight me.

But seriously, I’ve said this before too but I’m so serious about it, Harry meets Aerin in the flesh at some point.  And also Aerin visits Harry in her dreams and at first Harry’s very deferential and nervous, but she lightens up over time, and Aerin gives her advice on being a queen and being a legend and being a mother.  (At some point, when Harry is just exhausted of everything and frustrated with everyone and ready to ride off into the desert just to get away, Aerin turns up and tells a story about a very vain girl named Galanna who got her eyelashes shaved off and could have been rolled out a window, she was sleeping so heavily.  Harry laughs herself sick in the dream and wakes up smiling for the first time in weeks.)

thanatoswrath asked: Minerva McGonagall

Lol. I feel bad. I mean Minerva McGonagall for the prompt thing of yours. Sorry for not clarifying

I got you, my buddy.  HBIC Minerva McGonagall, coming right up.

A: what I think realistically

McGonagall is widely hailed as The One That Got Away through every Auror’s department in the world, in much the same way that Dumbledore is hailed as The One That Got Away regarding the Minister of Magic.  Stories get around to the tune of “wow, did you hear, Minerva McGonagall took a dozen Stunners straight to the chest and they think she’s going to recover fully” and “wow, did you hear, Minerva McGonagall animated every statue in Hogwarts” and “wow, did you hear, Minerva McGonagall tortured a Death Eater in Ravenclaw Tower.”  (This last is not true, and McGonagall puffs up in a combination of fierce pride and genuine offense whenever she hears it.  How dare you but also my House, goddamnit, he belongs in MY House.)  And the older Aurors are like “Goddamn right, she’s Minerva Fucking McGonagall, she could have run this place if she didn’t like teaching so much.” 

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

It was definitely Minerva McGonagall’s idea to, A, make James Potter Head Boy, and, B, drown the Dursleys in letters.

The thing about James Potter is that he wasn’t a prefect.  Remus was a prefect.  Remus, however, was also reliably flat on his back the two days around the full moon, and Somewhat Indisposed that one night a month, and so someone had to cover his duties.  The first time McGonagall found James doing Remus’ patrol (and look suspiciously exhausted about it too) she almost gave him detention for life.  But…  

“One chance, Mister Potter,” she says stiffly.  “If I hear you’ve been abusing this, I’ll take it straight to the Headmaster.”

“You got it Minn–I mean, um, yes, Professor.”  James offers her a smile that makes the circles under his eyes stand out.  McGonagall does some mental math–the full moon was last night, what does James have to look so tired about?  With Remus out of commission, they’re hardly getting up to elaborate shenanigans without him.

James Potter, for three nights a month, is beyond reproach.  Impeccable, in fact.  McGonagall half recommends him because she thinks he’s genuinely improving with the weight of responsibility and half because…come on, she just has to.  She has to.  No one is more horrified than James Potter himself when he gets the letter.

The thing about the Dursleys…they’re terrible and Minerva dislikes them supremely and she COULD go herself but she suspects that it won’t get them any further.  So she enchants two dozen quills to write identical copies of Harry’s letter and comes up with every terrible idea she can to make their lives miserable.  Because fuck them, that’s why.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends awful just awful I’m sorry

McGonagall has a list of students that she never meant to start keeping.  It started years ago, by accident, when she opened the Daily Prophet and saw a name on the front page–little Jacob Hanover, a Muggleborn fourth year who was murdered in the street when the Death Eaters first started to rise.  He was a sweet boy, with a wicked sense of humor and an eye for Charms that was downright ingenious.  He had tried to defend himself, a Gryffindor at the end even though his House had been something of a quiet mystery, but it hadn’t helped.  The list is long, grows by the day, but then…oh, then it stops, with four names inscribed at the bottom on the same date–James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black.  

(The boy she remembers, the boy who had three times been given detention for calling her ‘Minnie’ to her face, the boy who had once sent every Black in Slytherin an identical Howler full of insults, the boy who had laughed at his best friend’s wedding and danced the bride around in circles until they were both dizzy–he’s dead, she decides the second she gets the news.  He’s dead, and he died when he betrayed his friends.  She has no idea that the boy wishes the same thing, with all his heart.)  

The book containing the list leaves the corner of her desk where she’s kept it all this time, and she puts it on a bookshelf with every intent of never opening it again.  The war is over and she will not lose more students to that monster’s mania.  Minerva McGonagall will not raise another generation of children to march into battle.

Thirteen years later, she opens a book from her bookshelf and very sternly does not cry as she adds another name.  Cedric Diggory.  Flipping through the remaining pages, Minerva has a terrible premonition–there will be a lot more names before this is done.  

Alternatively: Minerva McGonagall attends Lily and James’ funeral.  The child reaching into the coffins, calling in confused distress for Mama and Daddy is bad enough, but she has never seen anything more heartbreaking than Remus Lupin, standing alone in the front row and clutching blindly at the photograph in his hands–the whole lot of them, the Marauders and Lily, at the wedding all those years ago.  They’re smiling in the picture.  Remus, three of his best friends murdered at the behest of the fourth, looks like he’ll never smile again.  That’s what breaks Minerva, finally, and sets her sobbing into her hands.

Eleven years later, Harry Potter looks her in the eye (he looks so much like his parents) and says that he and Ron miss Hermione, so much, please, they just want to see her, even if she can’t hear them.  Even if she’s Petrified.  

McGonagall knows when she’s being played, she does, but right then…pale and desperate and a little griefstricken, Harry doesn’t look like James, or Lily, or even wild and proud Sirius.  He looks like Remus, looking for friends who are far outside his reach.  She lets him and Ron go.

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

MCGONAGALL HAS A WIFE, SHE’S CHARMING, CANON CAN SUCK A DICK.

bell15obsessions asked: Buffy Summers for the ask meme

MY LOVE BUFFY SUMMERS.  For this ask meme.  Also, buckle up for fucking Buffy/Angel hour, folks, I don’t truck with Buffy/Spike.

A:  what I think realistically

Buffy’s classmates…listen.  They’re not as oblivious as the adult population, because…obviously they’re not, they’re the rising generation of kids who go to school with the Slayer, even the most obtuse of them will pick something up eventually.  They don’t really know, either, and more to the point they don’t altogether want to know.  But they can kind of…tell.  

No one challenges Buffy.  Ever.  Buffy is a hunter of hunters, a killer of killers.  Even though they don’t know, something deep down in the mind of even the densest high school student looks at her and quails in fear, looks at her and says strength and danger and protection and fear all at once in a mad jumble.

Willow and Xander go from being regularly shoved around to not even touched.  People still talk shit for a while, sure, but by their senior year, the entirety of Sunnydale High would rather be shanked with a pencil and die quick than go toe-to-toe with Buffy Summers.

And God have mercy on you if you lay a finger on her little sister, because Buffy won’t.

B:  what I think is fucking hilarious

Early during that rocky first few months, Giles foolishly told Buffy that she should dress more practically.  Out of sheer spite, she went slaying in stiletto heels and club dresses for two weeks until Giles had to reluctantly eat his words.

Angel was planning to come talk to her, but listen.  He’s only human.  Sort of.  He has limits.  Buffy kicking back on a mausoleum in a little black dress with blonde hair loose over her shoulders and six-inch heels while she juggles holy water vials with the careless ease of someone with total confidence in her skills–that’s his limit.  He’s calling it right now.  He leaves, feeling mildly shellshocked.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

SWEET GIRL, Death sighs, sliding through the motionless candle flames of the cave.  The Slayer is weeping into her hands, horrible ripping sounds as she stands with the water of the pool lapping at her feet.  She is dressed all in white, and so is Death, and they could be twins.  The Slayer is still afraid of Death, this time.  IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET.

“Thank you,” the Slayer sobs, and Death rests a bone-pale hand on her shoulder to press her back into the body in the pool.

***

The next time, it’s been a few years, and the Slayer–the Slayer, Death always thinks of her, even though there have been two, one gone through Death’s own hands and the other very close now, since last time–isn’t afraid of Death anymore.  They are friends, well-known and often met.  Almost twins.  She’s not dressed in white, she’s dressed in her own blood and vindication and black, and she’s sitting on the foot of a hospital bed.

DEAREST, Death croons, sitting down next to her and stroking her hair with a hand while she lets her fingers hover just above the hand of the body in the bed.

“I can’t die,” the Slayer says, looking at the unhealthily white skin of the body in the bed.  Even the golden hair looks washed out.  “The Ascension is tomorrow and I have to be there.  And–and he’ll never forgive himself.”

I HAVE MET LIAM, Death says, somewhat disapproving.  HE WAS RATHER QUESTIONABLE.

The Slayer almost smiles, but tears break over her lashes instead.  “I’ve heard.”

Death allows, HE HAS IMPROVED TREMENDOUSLY.

“I won’t die here,” the Slayer says, iron-clad.  “You can’t take me.”

Death laughs.  ALMOST I BELIEVE YOU COULD STOP ME, DEAR GIRL.  BUT IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET.  And Death presses her back into the body, and the Slayer clutches gratefully at Death’s wrist before she goes.

***

It is longer, before the next time, and this time the Slayer does not resist, throws herself weeping into Death’s arms and lets herself be held close to the thin body under the white cloth, and buries her tears in Death’s neck.

DEAREST CHILD, Death whispers, YOU HAVE FOUGHT FOR SO LONG.  COME WITH ME, AND YOU CAN REST.

***

Death has never considered mutiny before, but seeing the Slayer torn back into life almost brings it to mind.

***

They meet again, and again, and the Slayer smiles when she sees Death and they talk like old friends, like family long parted.

“How is Tara?  How is Jenny?  Tell me about Cordy, is she doing all right?  Did you see my mother, is she okay?  How is your work?  Is it my time?”  The Slayer asks her questions like there’s nothing to fear, and Death tries to keep a mental list, tries to check up on all her loved ones so that the Slayer can be assured of their wellbeing.  The Slayer’s list of loved ones is long.  Death hates to have to tell her, when the soul of Liam has passed through Death’s hands again, and always makes sure to let her know when it is restored.

LOVE, Death says quietly, every time, at the end of their talk, DO YOU WANT TO REST?

“No rest for the wicked, didn’t you hear?”  This is always the only time that the Slayer’s eyes glisten, her lips tremble.  “I still have so much to do.”

LET THE OTHERS DO IT, DEARHEART.

“Maybe next time,” the Slayer says, looking away, as ever, to hide the tears threatening to slide down her cheeks.  “Maybe next time I’ll rest.”

Death takes her face in bone-pale hands and kisses her forehead, a benediction.  They are almost twins.  YOU ARE THE BRAVEST OF YOUR KIND, SWEET GIRL.  And Death presses the Slayer back into her body.

D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

Honestly, AU where Angel/Cordelia doesn’t get shoehorned in and there’s no super uncomfortable Spike/Buffy plot and we get 100x more active pining.  Deliver!  My!  Mutual!  Pining!  Thanks!

In slightly more seriousness, though, (not that I’m not TOTALLY serious about that mutual pining thanks) you know how there’s that one time where Buffy accidentally demonstrates to a room full of morons that she can toss a dude over her shoulder like a paperweight?  In my heart of hearts, Buffy is shyly approached the next day by a girl who’s regularly harassed by jackasses and Buffy accidentally becomes the mentor to a bunch of random girls for how To Beat Up A Creepy Dude 101.  At work, Buffy walks other girls back to their cars on the regular, and she’s sort of surprised by how many of the people who try to mess with them are just…creepy dudes, nothing supernatural, because…like…very few people are suicidal enough to try shit with Buffy and her standard for comparison is like 99% vampires and 1% miscellaneous other.

Unrelatedly she and Angel are soulmates and they probably have a weird psychic pseudo-sire bond because of the bite on her neck and at some point a vampire asks her about it and she’s like “Well, I saved a master vampire from dying.”

VERY relatedly to the above, Angel is an actual master vampire and gossip is faster than wildfire and word Gets Around that the Slayer (because, much to Faith’s bitterness, Buffy is always the Slayer), one time saved Fucking Angelus from death.  The entire supernatural underworld simultaneously explodes with elaborate conspiracy theories, chief among them that the Slayer is actually a vampire.  Buffy hears about this after a really long day and the vampire who lets it slip is very confused when the Slayer sits down on the ground and laughs until she cries.  Not confused for long, though.  She stakes him before he can be confused for too long.

Anonymous asked: Natasha Romanoff B and D

I’m gonna do them all, I’m sorry, I am.  For this ask meme.

A: what I think realistically

Natasha didn’t just wake up one day clean and free to wander into the arms of SHIELD.  She doesn’t have the scar from it anymore–it was a long time ago, and a woman in her line of work has to get some laser treatments–but Clint shot her through the shoulder when he caught up with her, and it was her response that saved her life.

He couldn’t kill someone who stared him in the eye and said, plain as day, “Go ahead and do it then.  Save all those people from me.”  Pause.  Bitter laugh.  “Save me from me.”

Natasha beat him to a bloody pulp the first time they sparred, for disobeying.

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

Natasha, most of the Avengers believe at first, is effortlessly classy, humorless, and overall terrifying.

They are wildly unprepared for Natasha’s prankster streak–through a combination of dizzying logic and sweet-talking, she gets JARVIS on her side and convinces him to kill all the systems in the Avengers Tower.  While Tony is hammering away at his keyboard, trying to find the problem, JARVIS asks, totally deadpan, “Would you like to play a game?”  Tony shrieks.  Natasha gets it all on camera.

They are likewise unprepared for the first time Natasha and Clint actually stay there for an extended period of time, which includes Natasha, dressed in a shirt she stole from Clint and comfy leggings, sitting crosslegged on the floor and eating cereal at 2 AM while watching old Burn Notice reruns and critiquing the spy shenanigans out loud, regardless of who’s in the room.

It doesn’t come as a shock to them when Natasha goes through an entire week of addressing Clint by increasingly elaborately incorrect codenames.  At first it’s “Duck-guy” or “Crow-man” or “Goose-face,” but by day six she’s calling for “Ruby Throated Hummingbird” over the comms.  He walks into the debrief and sits down next to her and goes “Hey, Tarantula” and genuinely fears for his life for the next forty-eight hours.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

The Red Room recruiting nine or ten year olds?  Nah.  Natasha–Natalia–neither of those then, but Natasha-Natalia-Anja-Laurel-Cara-Kristen-Hana-Jessamine and a hundred other bloodstained girls all the same–was four years old when her family’s home burned to the ground.  She killed for the first time at five.  She was pitted against another child, then, and a knife was put in the room, and whoever lived, left.  She went on a mission for the first time at fourteen.  Failed.  Accidentally killed the target before extracting information.  Punished.  Another mission a year later.  Perfection.  

First wiped at sixteen.

Natasha believes she was wiped perhaps twelve times–not after every mission, like the teacher she barely remembers (blue eyes and hard jaw and numbness–Yakov? she doesn’t know), but often enough to keep her controlled.  Her last mission, before she was brought into SHIELD, was supposed to be a routine recon to a hospital in Sao Paolo which was thought to be funneling drugs.  A children’s hospital.  Competition for a major contributor to the Red Room.

It was far worse.  Natasha-Natalia-Mila couldn’t leave those children–some of them barely alive anymore, some of them twisted by experiments into…desperate things–to their fate.  She knew about desperate things.  She made sure they all died cleanly before she burned the building to the ground.

D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

Natasha is in love with Clint Barton, her hypercompetent loser of a partner who lives in Bed-Stuy with a dog and his…trainee?  Sidekick?  Mini-me?  Don’t bring no AOU nonsense into my house.

In all seriousness, comic ‘canon’ is such a moving target that you can justify almost anything, and I basically abandon MCU canon whenever it suits me.  That being said, heADCANON THAT NATASHA BELIEVES SHE’S A MONSTER BECAUSE SHE FUCKING MURDERED A LOT OF PEOPLE AND NOT BECAUSE SHE’S INFERTILE WHAT THE F U C K.

Nope, nope, I swear to Christ, I’m going to come up with something that’s not about AOU, I am, I promise, oh my god, um.

Natasha and Vision are good buddies because Natasha had to fumble her way through how to have Genuine Human Emotions a little bit at first (not how to have them, just how to…deal?) and is happy to explain to Vision when he’s confused.

Anonymous asked: Can you do John Wick for that headcanon post you reblogged?

You’re darn right I can do John Wick!  For THIS meme!

A: what I think realistically

John didn’t get into trouble as a kid.  John was a well-behaved student, known for being intelligent and quiet and unremarkable.  John never got into fights and no one ever questioned where he got bruises, because no one ever noticed.  When John left high school, he joined the military and did a four year tour with very little action.  And then he fell off the fucking map.  He still has living family.  They believe he’s dead.

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

John definitely calls in, like, life debts to get people to watch his dog while Shit’s Going Down.

“I need a favor.”

“John,” the smiling English assassin says, “after that time in Bulgaria you know you only need to ask.”

“I need you to watch my dog.”

There’s a long pause, but the assassin’s smile doesn’t crack.  “Does he have a name?”

“…no.”

“Okay.”  John is a weird dude, even as assassins go.  The English assassin rolls with it like a champ.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

For the record, I don’t have any friends who have seen John Wick except for the people who have asked me about it on here.  

That being said: John hasn’t been to visit his wife’s grave since he buried her.  At first it was because he physically couldn’t make himself do it.  Those first weeks were such a grey haze of…weight, more than anything else–even the air seemed too heavy to breathe–that he couldn’t leave the house.  Even with Daisy, it was all he could do to get up and take care of her.  Going to the cemetery…no way.

And then once Daisy was dead…John was busy.  John was fighting.  John was killing.  John had a purpose and damned if he was going to turn away from it.  

He was planning to go see his wife’s tombstone the morning after he got home.  Instead his house gets blown up and he loses everything of hers that he still owned.

D: what would never work in canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

You’ll never tell me that John’s wife wasn’t a world-class thief.  Like, she is to the thief world what John is to the assassin world.  They called her the Wraith, and her Interpol file is almost as thick as his, but instead of being a trail of mercilessly efficient kills it’s a laundry list of precious paintings and jewels and artifacts stolen from uncrackable safes and impenetrable museums.

They met while she was stealing a Picasso from one of John’s targets.  A classic story: girl meets boy, boy murders target, girl takes painting, girl breaks into boy’s safehouse with champagne.  “To celebrate our mutual successes,” she says, and John is gone.

Instead of making a deal with the Devil, she stole the most cherished statue owned by a leading member of her own High Council, and ransomed her freedom back with it.  She would have been free for all her natural life–and, John supposes, she was.

It’s just they both expected her natural life to be a lot longer, is all.