#destroyrofworlds

[blckwidws-archive]

@destroyrofworlds​​

It’s been many years since Natasha Romanoff gave a flying fuck about S.H.I.E.L.D. The entity was something to watch and be wary of, but never heed. In the past, it’s mostly signaled nothing but trouble. That’s not to say it’s always been corrupted. There’s been good years as well as the bad. Natasha wouldn’t have ever worked with them if she thought they were entirely irredeemable. Her pessimism has just gotten worse after not one but two iterations of Pleasant Hill.

Daisy Johnson taking over is supposed to usher in a new age. That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but if things don’t change under Johnson then the odds are that they never will. Even though she won’t contract with the agency again, Natasha has no issue being a circumstantial ally with them while Daisy gets herself established. It’s a huge undertaking, and it’s not as if the rest of the world stops so one can get their feet under them. The world keeps spinning and buildings keep exploding. Daisy’s job will be far from easy.

Natasha’s not actually making a house call to talk business, though. At least, not exclusively. The Widow sees the Nuhuman as a friend at this point, and that’s a high title to have in Natasha’s book. She stands with her back leaning against the counter, a glass of whiskey resting beside her. The coolness has left a puddle around it as water drips down the glass.

“I wanted to check in on you and Rosalind, both because of the spell being undone and the explosion. How are you holding up?” She wants to ask how S.H.I.E.L.D. is looking into the Avengers Mansion tragedy, but bites her tongue for now. “I’ve never been more glad to not be invited to a party.” 

A lie. Natasha had been invited. She had just refused as it was an Avengers meeting and she didn’t want to be an Avenger right now.

[agente23-archive]

@destroyrofworlds​​

She hasn’t technically moved in. Technically is the keyword in this instance. Rosalind is all but living with Daisy. She goes home to water her plants, but the other side of Daisy’s bed is now perpetually occupied. It’s a good thing that they have going. Daisy being promoted to Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. would have been a giant block in their relationship had Roz still been a subordinate, but she had tendered her resignation effective immediately and begun talks with T’Challa about rejoining the Agents of Wakanda. There’s no S.H.I.E.L.D., no spells. It’s just Daisy and Rosalind, and Roz really like who the two of them are when they’re allowed to just be together.

It’s been (almost) two weeks since the explosion and the resolution of the Pleasant Hill spell. The concussion is healed and Rosalind is feeling better than she has in a while. There’s a certain freedom that comes with being in love. That’s what she is: in love. It’s happened faster than she expected. Roz isn’t someone who sets herself up to get hurt easily. Spontaneous is not her middle name by a long shot. With Daisy, however, things just feel natural. She wants to bottle up this feeling for when things inevitably go wrong again.

“I don’t know,” she eyes the window ledge. “There may not be enough sunlight getting in. My African Milk Bush was a gift. I can’t let it die.” It feels easy to be talking about something so mundane with Daisy. Right, even. “I can’t have a cat, so I have plants. I need to prove I can keep something alive.”

[blckwidws-archive]

@destroyrofworlds​

It wasn’t her problem. ​That’s what Natasha wanted to believe. There was so much going on and she couldn’t get involved with everything. This? This didn’t have to be her problem. And yet, somehow, it was. It had started with a rumor from Araña who couldn’t find her friend, Gwen. Natasha had promised she’d keep an ear to the street, and once she did she was shocked by how much she heard.

Missing. Vanished. Without a trace.

Everyone, it seemed, was missing. It started with villains and spread to heroes. Now, mutants had gotten pulled in as well. People were up and disappearing and had been for some time. Whoever was taking them was getting ballsier, and that’s why it was now Natasha’s problem.

The liberation of Daisy Johnson wasn’t in the original plan. Natasha hadn’t known she was missing at all, her S.H.I.E.L.D. status listed as medical leave. She had started with Clint to see if she could talk to Bobbi about her S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts after the agency’s name became a recurrent feature in the dossiers, but Bobbi was gone as well. Natasha had done some investigative work and hacking only to find that Agent Johnson wasn’t on leave at all, but was being interred within a S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Following up on that lead had led to a jailbreak, and the two women now sat in Natasha’s apartment in San Francisco. It seemed safer to go there than back to New York, where they’d first look for them once Daisy’s presence was missed.

“Tell me again what you saw.” The spy glanced up from the dossier she had been skimming. “It lines up with what I’ve read and heard. I need to know if Hill confirmed this all to you. It won’t make a difference if she did; you don’t get to be Director of S.H.I.E.D. without learning how to lie. I just need to know how close to the target we are here.”

[peterfour]

@destroyrofworlds continued from here

“oh, well, forgive me for thinking we were celebrating my triumphant return to the land of the living,” he jokes, the palms of both hands coming to rest on the counter in front of him with a light smack.

he moves to stand up, eyeing the fridge from across the room as he wonders what other prizes it may hold, but he catches daisy’s eye as he does so, can tell that this is still just as strange for her as it is for him. one hand reaches forward to take her free hand in his own.

“hey, i swear i’m me. i’m back, for good. promise. i don’t know how much you trust me right now, god knows i’d have my doubts too – i don’t know how exactly it happened, but all i know is i sure as hell am not gonna question it.”

the words are punctuated with a hopeful smile as he stands, making his way toward the fridge, “got anything good in here? if we’re getting wine drunk, there’s gotta be a worthy pairing in here somewhere.” he holds up a box, “pizza rolls? tempting.”

[amaqvelins-archive]

@destroyrofworlds​

She’s never going to space again. No, that’s dramatic. Space will always be a part of Crystal. The Inhumans got their start on the moon, and she’ll always think of home when the night sky is clear. Her recent trip off planet had been with Luna. It marked the first time that she and her daughter had traveled intergalactically together, but Luna managed it well. Luna tends to handle most things well, Crystalia has noted. It’s been a blessing with the divorced and resulting animosity.

Getting caught up has taken some time. Crystal’s stripped off her gloves and kicked off her boots, one hand propping up her head as Daisy fills her in. She pauses once the Nuhuman is finished. “So, that’s it?” That’s it seems like an extreme oversimplification. “Reality warping, mass kidnappings, explosions and resurrections all within three months. It would almost be impressive if it wasn’t so messed up.”

[agente23-archive]

@destroyrofworlds​

Ana Gordon. Kindergarten teacher. Resident of Pleasant Hill.

Ana Gordon. Ana Gordon. Ana Gordon. Ana —

Rosalind Solomon. 

She knows who she is. More or less, that is. It’s really somewhat of a bitch. Rosalind Solomon ( because that’s her actual name ) has always been a confident woman. Her identity has been carefully molded since she was a kid. Roz wanted to grow up and save the world. When she first heard about S.H.I.E.L.D. during a recruitment session, she decided right then it was the agency for her. If S.H.I.E.L.D. could help her make a difference, she would join them. It was beginning of a long process. The grades, the extracurricular’s. Rosalind threw herself in whole heartedly and no one was surprised when the academy accepted her.

The last three years have been more unpredictable than Rosalind would have preferred, even though she wouldn’t change any of it until lately. Her invitation for Thor to attend her graduation was a dare from “friends” who didn’t believe he’d show. Hell, Roz hadn’t either until he was there in the shining flesh. Working with the Asgardian’s had come next. She had found a good rhythm with them, but S.H.I.E.L.D. being exposed as H.Y.D.R.A had changed everything. It had shaken Rosalind to the core. How could she save the world when she worked for literal Nazi’s?  The Agents of Wakanda were supposed to be a fresh start, a place to clear her head. Now, after all the bullshit, she’s really begun to regret leaving them. T’Challa told her she’s always welcome back, but she’s never picked up the phone to call. She doesn’t even know why.

Even though Rosalind has her own tiny apartment, she hasn’t been there since being freed from Pleasant Hill. Somehow she ended up going home with Daisy under the guise of helping the wounded agent out. In actuality, Rosalind was terrified of being alone. Something was off and she didn’t want to find out what that was later when she laid alone in the dark. It’s been a few days since then. A week, maybe? It’s hard to say. The two have been holed up ordering take-out. Despite the make-out session pre Pleasant Hill and the kiss inside, their time has been surprisingly lowkey. Maybe it’s not that surprising considering the trauma they’ve both been through as of late.

Laying on the bed, Roz barely lift her head at first when she hears Daisy enter. She’s not despondent. If anything, she’s angry. Her brain’s just spinning. “I need to make a lesson plan.” Roz slowly sits up. “Is tomorrow Monday? Shit.”

[coulsonbot]

@destroyrofworlds​

It was strange how things seemed to fit into such cliches lately. He wasn’t human anymore, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about the way simple phrases defined his life. Things change. We move on. Life is never simple and yet that’s the beauty of it.

It had all been beautiful and terrifying and one battle after the other for so long. Finding himself, really finding himself, seemed simple compared to the years spent with SHIELD. That’s what he had thought at first, at least. It was proving to be much more difficult than he let himself believe at the start of this new chapter.

This was as close to a normal life as he would ever get. He was a robot, but this was still closer to ‘typical’ than he ever figured he would get. There were no white picket fences on the horizon for him, but a house with a red corvette parked in the driveway was pretty damn great. He could read, and relax, and breathe— and try not to think about how the air flowing through artificial lungs felt both normal and alien at the same time.

Part of his ‘normal’ life was Daisy. Even though he left SHIELD far behind him, he knew it wouldn’t be something she was ready to kick to the curb just yet. He admired her for that. Truthfully, he admired her for quite a lot of things. She was his hero. The daughter he didn’t think he deserved.

Coulson had offered to pick her up, considering the whole shot in the shoulder situation. He didn’t ever need an excuse to drive around in Lola 2.0 but he couldn’t help but feel nostalgic after he helped her into the passenger seat and slid on his sunglasses. He smiled the entire drive back to his house.

“I got it, I got it!” Once they arrived, he hurried himself over to her side of the car and opened the door for her. He knew she hated being doted on but that wouldn’t stop him. He quickly unlocked the front door and held that open for her as well, inviting her in.

“If I see you lift even a finger to try and help cook tonight, I’ll purposefully burn your steak.” Coulson warned her with a smile, eyebrows raised. “You want something to drink? Beer?”