GUESS WHO’S BACK TOMORROW
Also her art is amazing
Rewatching Sleepy Hollow in anticipation of Monday. Nicole Beharie and Tom Mison are both soo very attractive its criminal.
batsonthebrain Agents of shield atla au bloodbending
In the beginning Jemma had never thought of it as more than an academic exercise, a way to further examine and learn the human body. But then there is an attack and a man is standing over Skye with a knife and May is on the floor, bleeding and Jemma knows she’ll never get there in time but she reaches towards them, hands stretching out, clawed in desperation and…
In superstition and folklore bloodbending is an evil, corrupting force. But it’s the same part of her powers that she uses every time she taps into a patient’s body to heal or study. It’s silly to put aside a tool because of children’s stories.
Besides, aren’t her teams’ lives more important than her own clear conscience?
p0cketw0tch said: Ward may not have been the most sociable member of the city watch, but he had a healthy respect for Captain Ironfounderson. Still, he felt his face pull into a frown as Corporal Simmons smiled up (and up) at the red head
Captain Carrot was a People Person, and it was a quality that merited the capital letters, he got on with people in the way a fish swam in the sea*. Corporal Simmons was naturally friendly, even when her profession frequently, normally, disquieted people, the Captain had no qualms about animatedly chatting with the young woman about a find he’d sent over for analysis. All manner of unusual substances were cropping up at crime scenes around the Unreal Estates properties, and with so many magic users in town, there had been a need for the different Watch Houses to join forces more strongly.
*Or in localized terms, the Shovel Nosed Dolphin dug it’s way through the corrosive, stinking Ankh estuaries. The Ankh river being less a body of water, and more the aquatic equivalent of a bottle of muddy cola, if cola had explosive properties.
The young corporal’s eyes were sparkling, the wonder of her discovery filling the space around her with an intangible joy. Had Captain Carrot not been in a very happy arrangement with his co-worker Captain Von Uberwald, Ward would have put down a week’s wages that the man would have walked away utterly taken with Simmons, as more than a few officers himself included, did.
"Asking her for a drink won’t kill you, you know." A voice behind him said, sounding entirely too pleased with itself. Ward inwardly let loose a torrent of obscenities, this particular unpleasantness being the natural course of events whenever Simmons was in the room.
"Yes, it definitely would. Lance Constable Avery, you aren’t on duty for another two hours, why are you here?" He growled, turning to face a smiling young Volunteer from the Thieves Guild.
"Captain Coulson called me in, wanted me to give Corporal Fitz a hand with outfitting the gargoyles with the new viewing equipment." the woman said, smiling brightly up at him. There were maybe two other people in the city who got as much pleasure out of torturing him as she did, and thankfully they were both off-duty until tonight.
"I mean it’s not like-"
"Leave it be, Lance Constable. Go burgle a tourist or whatever it is you do in your free time." He huffed, and stalked out the door into the bustle of the street. All these damn witches and unaffiliated wizards knocking about were going to make his life hard enough without Corporal Simmons seemingly settling herself permanently into an unused space in his brain. Silently he thanked every god who happened to be listening that the science inclined coppers only had to patrol twice a month. The trouble that would follow the sunny corporal and her artificer counterpart made him a little nauseous to think about.
p0cketw0tch said: "Well," said Nanny, ignoring Fury in favor of the now rather terrified agent guarding the door, "aren't you a rather muscular fellow."
Captain May, sitting quietly at the duty officer’s desk tensed, her shoulders stiff and her head bowed, amusement coloring her cheeks. Her immediate superior, Commander Fury taking the opportunity to make himself scarce. The Wizard’s Convivium this year had become a sort of all-comers magic user convention at the request of the Archchancellor. Each newcomer to the city was to register at the Deosil Gate Watch House, a desk inside manned by an undersecretary from the palace, and an overseer from the University; the Watch’s involvement was nothing but a polite formality. Politeness however was hardly first and foremost on the witch’s mind.
Sergeant Ward stiffened, his normally composed face showing signs of embarrassment. He’d pulled a swing shift at Treacle Mine Road, and was in the process of signing on for the morning rota, his temporary re-assignment from the Particulars was keeping him busy. He wasn’t going to say anything, he wasn’t exactly hopeless as May could personally attest but sometimes there were people who were absolutely beyond his skill level, the witch appreciatively goggling at him was one of them.
JARVIS opened the file he’d buried deep in Sir’s private server, presenting it to them on one of the holotables. Sir’s eyes sharpened; Ms. Potts opened her mouth in a gesture JARVIS knew meant surprise.
"I have taken the liberty of investigating available property in Manhattan, and calculating the best return on investment in terms of both community benefit and ease of building," he said, as Sir reached out to spin the holographic building around. "I believe this design for Stark Tower combines the Stark aesthetic pleasantly with the Manhattan skyline."
"Well," Sir said. "The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree. This is audacious, J."
"Thank you, Sir." JARVIS hesitated again. Dummy made a pointed query at him, and he acknowledged it drily. "Sir, you have asked on four separate occasions if I should like to be possessed of a physical form."
"Yeah, but we’re still years away from anything realistic, I just wanted to know if I should start — " Sir began, but JARVIS interrupted. Sir on a roll could be time-consuming.
"This is the physical form I desire," he said.
This fic is really enjoyable to write, so it would be awesome if at some point I could find a goddamn plot for it.
Phil Coulson starts seeing wings shortly after returning to SHIELD. He didn’t see them in Tahiti-at least he doesnt remember seeing them in tahiti and an extra pair of large feathery appendages seem like the sort of thing he would have noticed no matter how magical of a place it was.
The first morning he sees them, Phil wakes up late. He had flown late the night before and since he wasn’t officially starting work for another few days and his body was still groggy from the time change.he figures one more day of sleeping in wont hurt. As he opens the door, he resolves to track down Sitwell. If anyone is going to be honest about how Phil’s projects have fared in his absence, it’s Jasper.
Five seconds later, he nearly turns around and closes the bedroom door back behind him. It’s nearly noon and the Hub is in full swing with agents rushing back and forth and all the offices filled with busy employees. And every single person has a pair of feathery bird wings sprouting from their backs. The wings come in a range in color and size, all larger than their animal counter parts, and he stares, fighting to keep his face impassive, as a scientist hustles past him pushing a cart and sporting a pair of excitedly fluttering hummingbird wings.
Japser’s personal assistant is a tiny blonde woman named Miriam. She is kind but efficient and today she is dwarfed by a truly massive set of albatross wings that sprout from her back and trail down behind her.
Jasper is happy to join him for lunch and even happier to help Phil catch up, but it takes every bit of Phil’s control not to flinch or glance over Jasper’s shoulders every time the man’s new speckled brown appendages move. Phil’s distraction means he doesn’t glean nearly as much information as he had intended.
Phil goes to Nick Fury that afternoon. He had kept silent on the wings all day, not wanting to cause alarm or spread the word of his new insanity, but he couldn’t let himself go on compromised without informing anyone.
Fury stares at him for a long moment after Phil finishes explaining the manner and then suddenly Fury flares the massive black wings than had been hanging behind him to their full wingspan. Until now, Phil hadn’t paid much attention to the appendages beyond noticing that, like everyone else, Fury had wings now and that the black feathers didn’t seem too odd since Phil was used to seeing the black leather of Fury’s trench coat flapping behind him anyway. Now Phil can’t help but track the wings as they block the light in a truly impressive display. They are larger than any of the wings that Phil has seen so far, save Mariam’s, and reminiscent of the vultures he had seen in New Mexico.
Fury notices Phil’s eyes dart up, of course, and study’s him for a bit longer. Finally, Fury nods as if having made a decision, his wings folding back down behind him, and dismisses Phil with merely the instructions to report any more changes or detrimental effects.
When Phil reaches his temporary room, he looks his bathroom door behind him and then turns to study himself in the mirror. Sure enough, there are a small pair of tan wings with dark brown and white spots stretching behind him. Experimentally, he tries to stretch one wing to reah in front of him. The wing moves with a thought but when he tries to grab it to examine further, his hand goes right through the feathers.
A bit of googling later, and he concludes his wings are that of a common sparrow. Phil has been rather average looking his whole life and he’s learned to use his ability to be utterly bland to it’s best advantage. Sparrows are common all around the world but are known for their adaptability. It’s strange to be pleased by a choice made by his own delusional brain, but he feels the comparison rather suits him.
And so life goes on and Phil grows accustomed to a life full of feathers that aren’t really there. For his own amusement, he starts to study various people, trying to figure out which species their wings belonged to. After a while, Phil notices that the flutter of wings matched their owners emotions. It takes him a while to figure out the meaning behind specific movements- he’s hardly an expert on avian body language. Besides, while he is no longer certain the wings are a delusion (Loki and Thor had certainly shown them that the world was filled with strange things and he had been stabbed by a magical staff), Phil doesn’t want to start relying on the information given by intangible appendages of uncertain origin.
That all changes when he meets Skye. Phil has seen wings of all types large and small. He has seen wings of pure white doves, colorful peacocks, and black ravens. But every pair of wings he has seen has been matched by some form of real bird.
Skye’s wings are pure blue flame. They flicker behind her in the vague shape of wings, constantly moving. They are the one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. When they bring her in, he stares down at her stubborn expression, bathed in the blue light of her fiery wings, he knows that she is something special. What ever it
He keeps an eye on all of the team, although admittedly he spends a bit more time working on Skye, drawn by her potential and the promise of her wings. Simmons has the green and grey wings of an English budgie and they are always fluttering in excitement or reaching out towards the sky as if she would take off to explore it’s very heights. Fitz, on the other hand, has a set of soft grey dove wings that continuously stretch towards Simmons, seeking her out whenever she is in the room and wrapping around her when she is close enough. Even as he develops a crush on Skye, Fitz’s wings stay cradled around his partner in science. Phil wonders if he should be concerned about the dependence, but the two scientists are working well together for the moment so he keeps his silence.
May has the beautiful wings of a golden eagle, but he only sees them to their full advantage when she fights. The rest of the time she keeps them tucked tightly against her back, never a feather out of place. He’s not quite sure if this is out of discipline or self protection after Bahrain but he gains the habit of occasionally running the tips of his own primaries over her wings in comfort and support. She can’t see or feel it, but perhaps it helps on some level.
Ward’s wings are the most concerning. They are mangled, raggedy things, with feather bent and broken and entire sections missing. Ward’s wings rarely seem to match his supposed emotions; they flutter in anger at odd times, and even when he starts to warm up to the rest of the team, his wings stay tense.
But when Simmons catches the Chitauri disease and jumps off the bus, Ward’s wings flare in genuine alarm, and afterwards, when they retrieve the two sopping agents, Ward’s wings are tucked protectively around the small scientist. From that point on, Ward’s wings match more closely with his projected emotions, especially around the younger members of the team and Phil starts to relax on the matter of the team specialist.
Soon enough there are consequences from his death than invisible wings to worry about.
Wingfic with hints of philinda and biospecialist
speed paint <w> haven’t done realism in awhile so i thought i would give it a go.
now on the right blog
Its going to be another week before I have reliable access to a computer on which I can draw. So another week before I can start posting fanart again