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maybege · 4 years ago

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... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader

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volcanokids · 4 years ago

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Hey idk who needs to hear this but the shit going on with Robinhood and Gamestop right now should make you really fucking angry and I’ll tell you why

If you’re not up to speed on the situation, here’s some good posts explaining it. The gist is that using completely legal means, a bunch of individual retail investors (fancy words for normal ass people who, like the rest of us, have very little money) who invest on online brokerage apps (like Robinhood) bought stock in Gamestop after hedge funds worked hard to manipulate the market for their own gains. These average people interrupted the plans of these much larger hedge funds to essentially drive Gamestop’s stock price into the ground by buying all of the stock these companies had and holding onto it, which has now costed these hedge funds BILLIONS of dollars, and for once has disrupted their long standing practice of market manipulation to fuck people over and maintain the wealth of the 1%.

Otherwise average people with accounts on Robinhood, Fidelity, Webull, etc., have now taken and held a ridiculously huge amount of control over GME stock and the rich corporations invested into it and caused it’s growth to absolutely explode. I’ve seen COUNTLESS stories in which many of them turned hundreds of dollars into thousands, made enough much needed money to pay off debts, medical bills, or just to put into savings that they wouldn’t have gotten under other circumstances. They accumulated small fortunes and gave power back to the people, and best of all took that money directly out of the hands of greedy and corrupt billion dollar hedge funds.

But of course, there had to be backlash for this.

Last night (1/27), Robinhood took away its investors’ ability to buy any more stock in Gamestop than they already owned, and today has made its user base fully unable to trade Gamestop stock AT ALL unless it is to sell their already owned shares, like literally fully took away the button that lets you purchase GME stock, period. Straight up preventing trade like this to any degree in the free market, much less to favor billion dollar corporations, is incredibly blatant market manipulation which is very illegal, hence the class-action lawsuit that has already been filed against Robinhood. Hedge funds have lost literally BILLIONS of dollars to normal people trading stock legally, and Robinhood halting trade and making selling the ONLY option for Gamestop, AMC, and similar companies is their attempt at helping the hedge funds gain back their fortune after they failed to manipulate the market in their favor, and fucking over the average people who are invested on their platform in the process.

Retail investors—regular people—when this happened, lost THEIR ability to buy, and therefore continue taking back the wealth held by the hedge funds, but this restriction on Robinhood has NO effect on hedge funds, who have now been able to buy and sell all day today (1/28) freely. They used the opportunity to drive the price of Gamestop down again, essentially trying to bail themselves out after they manipulated the market and fucked themselves over in the first place. So, Robinhood, several other trading brokers, CNBC, and any other large corporation who has pissed on Reddit for “manipulating the market” have also now revealed their alignment with these companies, who are the reason the wealth in America is as disparaged as it is. They’re complaining, shifting the blame, even making up straight up lies about retail investors being involved in the alt-right to defame the people who have beat them at their shitty game.

People on Reddit saw the manipulation, played the game fairly, and hedge funds are STILL trying to fuck them over for daring to touch the fortunes that they have gained by their shady as hell practices and fucked up the economy by hoarding. Reddit saw an opportunity to actually literally redistribute wealth, and these companies are trying to put us all in our place and keep that from happening by extremely corrupt means.

Market manipulation has been going on for a very long time with very little pushback from the people who actually take the blow when the market tanks—i.e. lower to middle class people who can’t afford bailouts and end up broke and out of jobs when the market crashes. The crash of ‘08 was caused by big brokers doing illegal shit and fucking around with people’s money with absolutely no personal repercussions. No lawsuits (or at least no lawsuits that did fuck all about it) no jail time for anyone responsible, nothing. Not only has this Gamestop movement taken back some of the wealth, we are beginning to finally hold these companies accountable. Again, as of right now, a class-action lawsuit has been filed against Robinhood for their blatant market manipulation, and hedge funds invested in GME have lost over 5 billion dollars.

We always talk about eat the rich, fuck the 1%, redistribute the wealth. I know the stock market is confusing—it’s made that way on purpose—and I understand anyone’s personal reluctance to participate in the stock market directly because of the hatred for it’s capitalistic nature and everything it’s done wrong and every way it’s failed so many people. But, if you want to actually be a part of a movement that is literally taking billionaire’s wealth and redistributing it right now, show support on social media for the people putting in time and money to make this happen.

I am not qualified at all to give financial advice, and I can’t in good faith tell anyone to buy stocks, ESPECIALLY knowing many, many people do not have the disposable income to be able to do so. Do not spend money you don’t have. But the media is going to and has been altering the narrative, making the small investors look like they’re being corrupt. Do not believe them. They’re often paid out or owned by these big corporations in the first place, they do not give a shit about any of us, about ruining our lives, about taking everything we’re worth. They’ve done it forever. But the HUGE number of people buying GME, supporting, and cooperating with each other with the solitary goal of fucking over these hedge funds, fighting them and beating them at their own game is scaring the absolute shit out of them. It’s becoming a movement that’s being compared to another occupy wall street. It’s showing people they have the power to instigate change and could legitimately lead to an entire restructuring of the system if we play our cards right. Of course changing one capitalist system into another capitalist system is not ideal nor is it the goal, but this whole thing has very quickly become a movement backed by A LOT of people who have knowledge about the system, have seen it work and seen it get corrupted in real time, acknowledged exactly where it fucks us all over, and are beginning to break it down by exposing a huge and obvious instance of corruption at the hands of billionaires.

If you can do nothing else, educate yourself about all the fuck shit these companies are doing, rally support on whatever social media you use, keep posting diamond-hands-we-like-the-stock-gme-to-the-moon-memes, put pressure on the brokerage apps like Robinhood who are manipulating the market and let them know there will be hell to pay. Robinhood is sitting at a well deserved one star review on the google play store for their shitty actions and has gotten burned over and over on twitter, lots of investors are planning a mass exodus and closing their Robinhood accounts when all this shit is over, as WELL as the lawsuit, and all of it has garnered the attention of some very influential figures who now have our backs. All of the repercussions they’re facing is the direct result of our outrage and backlash. Be outraged with us and let’s make real fucking change.

GME to the fucking moon everyone 🚀

#gme #gme to the fucking moon 🚀🚀🚀#gamestop #wall street #stocks #im sorry this is so long fdhjfbhjfarw pwease read it

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sapphoshands · 3 years ago

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22, 28, & 40!

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

ahahahaha i am. not. it used to be i just wrote until i hit a stopping point and then i went back and tried to edit. now i am ageing rapidly and also occasionally trying to write longer things, so i try to get some sort of point-form outline on paper and then go back to that and write actual words. but boy, the outline is rough, and not at all in the tone of the actual eventual piece, and sometimes i don't actually keep to the outline at all, though i usually keep to the rough shape.

at the moment i use googledocs pretty much exclusively, because it means i can write on my laptop, my phone, my *cough* work laptop or ipad NOT THAT I WOULD EVER OF COURSE. i keep thinking i should get back to using scrivener, because it would make flipping back and forth between outline and draft much simpler, but at the moment the ease of access to gdocs has won out for me.

gdocs also just has. like. mumblemumble twenty-some mumble docs that are just scraps of poetry or lyrics or text of some sort that might eventually inspire a fic? which is also due to the sheer laziness and ease of just chucking something into a file and then having it accessible everywhere. but organised it is not.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

you know, i think it might be frankie bergstein from grace and frankie. both grace and frankie had such incredible voices that it was really easy to catch and match them, and writing dialogue that felt like it was being delivered by lily tomlin is a treat and a half. she was obviously incredibly free-wheeling and over the top, which is always great fun to play with, but she also had a lot of hidden depths to her. but delight, now - that always connotes a certain buoyancy, a light-heartedness, a freedom, a silliness, and frankie had all of that in spades. coming up with in-character words and thoughts and feelings was always just so much fun for her.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

i am a terrible person to ask about poetry, because i hardly ever go off the beaten path with it, so with that caveat, have some larkin:

An Arundel Tomb by Philip Larkin.

Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie in stone, Their proper habits vaguely shown As jointed armour, stiffened pleat, And that faint hint of the absurd— The little dogs under their feet.

Such plainness of the pre-baroque Hardly involves the eye, until It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still Clasped empty in the other; and One sees, with a sharp tender shock, His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.

They would not think to lie so long. Such faithfulness in effigy Was just a detail friends would see: A sculptor's sweet commissioned grace Thrown off in helping to prolong The Latin names around the base.

They would not guess how early in Their supine stationary voyage The air would change to soundless damage, Turn the old tenantry away; How soon succeeding eyes begin To look, not read. Rigidly they

Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light Each summer thronged the glass. A bright Litter of birdcalls strewed the same Bone-riddled ground. And up the paths The endless altered people came,

Washing at their identity. Now, helpless in the hollow of An unarmorial age, a trough Of smoke in slow suspended skeins Above their scrap of history, Only an attitude remains:

Time has transfigured them into Untruth. The stone fidelity They hardly meant has come to be Their final blazon, and to prove Our almost-instinct almost true: What will survive of us is love.

#talk to me #tidelinear #writing meme

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stardust-walker · 4 years ago

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Undying Fidelity

(Loki X Sigyn!OC)

Summary: Sigyn is feeling v stressy and depressy after Loki dies. She volunteers to return to 2012 New York with Tony, Steve, Scott, and Bruce. Her reasons weren’t selfish, she promises. Chaos ensues. Big dorks.

My first time writing for any fandom besides TWD but this idea has been in my head since the Loki trailer came out and I couldn’t shake it so here it is lmao.

Sigyn had felt like the world moved in slow motion from the moment the life had left Loki’s body. The snap had only made things worse. It had been 5 years since she had seen pretty much anyone other than Thor and sometimes the residents of New Asgard. She kept to herself more often than not.

It was almost ironic how Loki had spoken of undying fidelity shortly before his life had been snuffed out. Meanwhile her own undying fidelity had seemed to leave her cursed with never-ending grief.

The talk of time travel had gained her interest almost as soon as the idea was pitched to the team. Asgard was an option but she knew that wouldn’t be the best option for her. Odds were that in the time they would send them back to, the residents would still think that she was dead.

Her heart had done a funny sort of flip-flop as they talked about heading back to New York. Her stomach sank even lower as an image of Loki was pulled up on the screen.

“So Sigyn will come to Asgard with myself and the rabbit,” Thor began to announce.

Her brown eyes drifted over to where Rocket had, once again, slapped himself on the forehead in frustration. “As much as I would love to go back to Asgard, I believe my skills are needed in New York.”

“You sure that’s such a good idea there, Frosty?” Tony quirked an eyebrow.

“Are you sure it’s such a good idea to have two Hulks in one place? No offense, Bruce.”

“She’s right.” Steve spoke up, “I know what you’re thinking, Tony, and it won’t happen.”

Sigyn locked eyes with Tony for a moment before the older man relented. “Fine. But any funny business and I’m leaving your ass back in 2012.”

She hated travel. Whether it was through space or time, it all sucked to her. All the hair on her arms seemed to stand up inside of the suit as she shared one last worried look with Thor before they were off. Something was different about hurtling through space when you were a lot smaller.

“We all have our assignments,” Steve began as Sigyn stood up straighter and began to glance around. She knew he was around but more importantly she could feel him again.

A loud roar jolted her from her thoughts as she took a step closer to the men she had traveled with. There was the Hulk. Or the old Hulk. However time travel worked, there was the previous Hulk from that time smashing up a car like his life depended on it.

A small smirk crept onto her face as she caught the embarrassed look that Banner had on his face. That was the champion she had seen back on Sakaar. A total wild animal.

This Bruce, however, didn’t seem to have any of that in him anymore. Sigyn’s head tilted slightly as the rest of them watched the green man try to get back into how he was before. “Well, he’s a little confused..” She muttered.

“But he’s sure got the spirit.” Tony joked. “Let’s roll.”

Sigyn didn’t even have to ask where they were going. Sure, they had talked about it in the plans but she felt like she was almost in a trance as she scurried after Tony and Scott as Steve split off from them with a flash of a reassuring smile.

After not using her magic for what was probably years, she was surprised that she didn’t stumble as she landed inside the Stark tower right after Tony. As she slipped behind the stone wall to hide from their old selves, she couldn’t help but sneak a peek. Did her hair really look like that from behind? Ew.

“If it’s all the same to you,” her heart leapt into her throat, “I’ll have that drink now.” Tony gripped her arm a little too hard. Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a look.

The 2012 version of her let out a quiet snort of laughter. She remembered the look that Natasha had shot her. “What?” She heard herself say.

“All right, get him on his feet.” The younger Tony Stark ordered. “Uh-uh. Not you, princess. Come on, Point Break. Get him up. We can all stand around posing up a storm later. By the way, feel free to clean up.”

“Wow I almost forgot how much of an ass you were, Stark,” Sigyn hissed through gritted teeth.

“At least I had style. Speaking of! Mr. Rogers, I almost forgot. That suit did nothing for your ass.” Tony shook his head in mock sympathy.

Steve practically sounded like he was rolling his eyes. “No one asked you to look, Tony.”

Sigyn raised an eyebrow and shrugged in agreement as she caught sight of Captain America. That suit really was terrible.

“I think you look great, Cap. As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s ass,” Scott called out over the line.

“C’mon.” Sigyn whispered, “No one likes a...kiss ass.” She smirked as Tony shot her an appreciative look.

“Who gets the magic wand?” Nat asked.

Thank god that Tony knew his way around Stark tower more than anyone even after years of not living there. Sigyn’s eyes narrowed as she watched the Hydra agents in disguise begin to file into the apartment from their new hiding place.

A laugh nearly slipped out as she watched Loki transform into Steve from across the room. “I mean honestly,” he joked as he turned back into himself, “how do you keep your food down?”

“Shut up,” Thor snapped as he placed a lock over Loki’s mouth.

“I wish I could tell you dearest,” she heard herself say as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her. In spite of Loki being in chains. A prisoner. She watched herself grab him gently by the arm to lead him into the elevator with Thor almost like when they used to walk through the gardens together. “But then I would have to kill you.”

Tony’s grasp on her shoulder pulled her out of the moment as he pulled her back towards the window. The plan flooded back into her mind as she began to plummet backwards towards the ground. She let out a grunt as she was finally able to regain her own balance to drift back towards the ground without Stark’s help.

“What’s-a matter, Frosty? No knight in shining metal armor today,” Stark joked.

“You burn my hair with those flaming feet of yours and you won’t make it back to the future,” she hissed through gritted teeth as the small green embers flickered from her own fingers as she continued on a quick course back to the ground.

“Looking fresh, Stark,” Sigyn mumbled as she walked up beside Tony in her own security outfit. The only difference was her long blonde hair hung out from under the helmet. “Almost didn’t recognize you without the extra few inches of metal.”

“That really hurts me, you know. I would think for someone so old you would want to be a little nicer to the younger gen-ow!” Tony rubbed his arm as he received a hard pinch.

“Shut up. Here we come,” she swallowed hard as she spotted herself again out of the corner of her eye. She walked side by side with Loki with her head held high. It was amazing how she could walk like that when she remembered how she’d felt. She had known that Loki had pretty much signed his own death sentence and yet still she walked beside him with pride. He was her husband and she was loyal to him. It was her gift and her biggest curse.

“Thumbelina, do you copy? I’ve got eyes on the prize,” Tony chirped into the ear piece.

“I’m going inside you,” Scott whispered back after a moment. Sigyn’s eyebrows shot up as she shot an amused glance at Tony.

Sigyn flashed him a delicate smile. “I didn’t realize I would learn so much about your personal life today, Mr. Stark.”

“Quiet down, Glinda. We don’t want Elphaba to hear you.”

“May I ask you where you’re going?” Pierce’s voice made her skin crawl as she watched him approach the group.

“A bit of lunch and then Asgard,” Thor answered cheerfully.

“Perhaps a stop for gas. I hear mileage on the Bifrost is killer these days,” past Sigyn cooed as she shot a look back at Loki over her shoulder.

Pierce stood up a little straighter. “I’m going to have to ask you to turn the prisoner over to me.”

Sigyn could almost feel her throat close up all over again as she watched herself take a defensive step back towards Loki. Her hand came to rest a mere inch away from the handle of her knife.

Tony whispered beside her, “Easy, Sig. We know how this goes, right?” He paused. “I see what you mean by the whole fidelity thing though but the victory thing?”

“Hush!” She hissed back as she watched Loki turn slightly with an annoyed look in his eye. The woman turned to face the other way quickly as chaos seemed to be breaking out behind them again. Pierce had always been an asshole that much was sure. She wished she could’ve said she were surprised when she found out he was Hydra all along. Her stomach churned as more thoughts raced through her head of what they would have done to her husband if they’d gotten a hold of him in the first place.

Sigyn squeezed her eyes shut tight as she heard the crackle through the ear piece and a different sort of chaos broke out. “Oh my gods! Stark,” she heard her own panicked voice and the two of them turned to see herself abandon Loki and reach a hand out to steady Tony.

“Aw, you do care.”

Sigyn resisted the urge to punch Tony in the chest for good measure. Her heart leapt as the suitcase with the tesseract spun towards them. Her pulse quickened as Tony leaned down to pick up the case and her gaze wandered for just a moment. Loki had noticed.

“Good job, meet me in the alley,” Tony mumbled as he began to quickly exit the building. She was just about to take a few steps to follow when another explosion happened. Except it wasn’t so much of an explosion as it was a rampaging green monster busting down a door.

“Oh shit,” she hissed through her teeth as she skittered back. Stark landed at her feet with a groan but a softer noise drew her attention. A soft tinkling noise and her gaze flickered to the case. The tesseract.

Time seemed to stand still again as Loki glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with her. A confused look crossed the upper portion of his face for a moment before he glanced back towards the chaos ensuing over past Tony. He had noticed.

With one last look back at her, he knelt down to pick up the tesseract. She thought she heard Tony grunt something but her feet carried her quicker than she could ever remember running before.

Just as Loki stood again, Sigyn came within one step of him. The sudden noise behind him made him turn once more. She gritted her teeth into a grimace as she placed both her hands on the tesseract. Sigyn fully intended to yank the damned thing right out of his fingers but before she could, she felt a strange sensation. A wall of blue and black smoke engulfed the pair of them.

She hated space travel.

Loki landed in the sand with a loud grunt despite the muzzle still over his mouth. The tesseract was still in his grasp. Had he even really seen what he thought he had?

A loud scream echoed through the air around him. His eyebrows raised as another portal seemed to open in the sky right above him. A figure all in black fell through it; arms flailed and legs kicked as the ground seemed to raise to meet them.

Another loud grunt left Loki, this time a more pained one as the smaller figure landed right on top of him.

Quickly, the woman rolled to the other side and let out a quiet groan as she pulled the helmet from her head. With a fluid movement, the black object was tossed aside into the sand before she flopped back onto the sand. A grunt beside her alerted her to the presence of the man. Without even a glance to the side, she reached over and pressed a hand to his mouth to deactivate the muzzle.

“Lovely of you to drop in, Sigyn,” Loki coughed as he took a deep breath.

Sigyn let out an annoyed grunt. “A pleasure, as always.”

Loki caught her gaze out of the corner of his eye as he rose to a sitting position. “You should have just let me take it,” he hissed through his teeth.

Sigyn let out a heavy sigh as she sat up and shrugged off the heavy black bulletproof vest and jacket she wore. “And let you cause more chaos and destroy more cities?”

Loki glanced over at her. A nearly imperceptible look of nervousness crossed his face before he smirked at her. “Who says that’s what I was going to do with it.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes as her gaze flickered forward to a small group of people that were moving slowly towards them. “I would like to think I know you better than you know yourself. Whatever you do, we’re in this together now.” She wasn’t about to lose him again. Not so soon.

“I’m positively touched,” he cooed.

“Til death do us part, darling.” And even after.

#loki x reader #loki x sigyn #loki x oc #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #loki fanfic #loki fic #sigyn #loki fanDOM HERE I COME #listen im fully aware this might suck but the idea wouldn't leave my ass alone #chaotic space babies #i know the loki series probably wont start with him falling into the desert #but that scene in the trailer with him just waking up in the sand made me cackle #so here this is lmao

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knotfodder · 2 years ago

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confusedgoldenflower · 4 years ago

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There is No Glorious Purpose Chap. 2

Hello, you beautiful Tesseract-loving bastards!

I've been meaning for a long time to update but I've been having a really bad time with the whole motivation thing, and what I had first thought of doing with this fic got thrown in a wood-chipper and sunk with the Titanic... so, I'm trying to pick up the pieces and decide where I want to go with this. I also wanted to do it episodically: Chapter One aligned with Episode One and so on. That has not worked partly due to the issues of the above so, well, I guess we'll find out together!

So sorry for any grammar issues, I did my best to look it over but got too sick of staring at it over and over again in my drafts.

Small Thor cameo!

Chapter Two: You Oafs

“Yeah, well, you’re a mischievous scamp--or at least, the other you is. Been killing our minutemen and stealing our reset charges. Been happening for quite a long time….” Mobius whistled lowly. Loki nodded slowly.

“If you know me or us as well as you say, what need have you of my help?”

“Like I said, mischievous scamp. And I know what makes a Loki tick, sure, but even Sherlock needed Watson sometimes--you do know about them, right? Really fun stories with a super smart detective and his below average side-kick--.”

Loki ignored the rambling, “I agree.” Perhaps then… after… peace? “Just tell me, please… is it true that I directly led to my mother’s death?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, definitely. Thor was pissed and then he dragged you along to Svart--Svartle… anyway, the planet of the Dark Elves with Jane because she absorbed the Aether. Then you faked your death, again . There’s that ‘doing a horrible thing then getting away,’ again. But Thor totally gets you back on Sakaar with those Obedience Disks. Yeah, yeah… oh, right, you don’t know--and won’t. He slaps one of ‘em on you when you betray him again, then dials it up all the way while he returns to Asguard. For a god, you get put down a lot .” Mobius chuckled.

Loki sucked in a shuddering breath, reverently laid the Tesseract down and stood, “let us catch this scoundrel then.” He faked a smile for the agent.

“Ok,” Mobius clapped and rubbed his hands together, “what a therapy session!”

Loki had a fleeting thought of, “he must be some Midguardian fool, possibly in some relation to Thor,” before he remembered that the all powerful Time Keepers had created the oaf in front of him.

“Ya know, for the record, maybe ‘undying fidelity,’ wasn’t the right thing to say to Thanos. Just saying. But this is good! We’re gonna be a great team.”

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

“Loki,” the orange clock whined on his ‘gifted’ desk. Though still somewhat transparent, Miss Minutes was a fairly good illusion.

“Yes?” He replied pleasantly, blue hand turning the page of a magazine. His slack-clad legs were propped on the desk, fine business shoes not too far from where she stood on a rather large book. The suit replacement of the prison wear wasn’t bad, he, of course, would have done better had he access to his seidr. But it was fine for the time being.

“Are you paying attention?” The angry little clock motioned to the old Midguardian computer screen which read in that same horrible orange color:

LET’S SEE WHAT YA KNOW!

Q2. Thanos has two apples. He eats both but realizes he wants more. He goes back in time 20 minutes and eats the apples again. Does this mean the apples will not have existed in the timeline he left?

No, because time is constantly happening

The question doesn’t matter because a branch cannot change another time branch

Thanos would’ve been hungry prior because the Grandfather paradox already accounted for the change in matter before it’s move.

TVA FILE EDIT VIEW MODE HELP

Of course he was paying attention, and of course he chose not to amuse them! One order after another; feeding off of each other even. He may have bowed to Thanos but he had never kneeled. Not truly. And he clung to that remaining dignity.

“Naturally,” he returned pleasantly. She sighed.

“What happens when a nexus event branches past red line?”

“Ragnarok.”

“Come on, Loki. What is it?... Loki!”

“It is when the TVA can no longer reset a nexus event. Are you satisfied?’

“Right. And that would lead to the destruction of the timeline and the collapse of reality as we know it.” He lowered the magazine lower into his lap and took his feet off the desk.

“Yes, indeed. Are you alive or a recording? Clearly, you can hear me.”

Her big cartoonish eyes moved around, “uh… sorta both?”

“So not an illusion or projection?” He swiped at her with the rolled up magazine.

“Ah!” A small smirk ghosted his face and he went after her again.

“Watch it! Where are your manners? Oh! Hey! Quit it! That is not nice, ya jerk!” She floated and then fazed back into the computer. He gave that ugly thing a few whacks as well. She pouted on the other side of the screen.

“Trainin’ going wel--is that my jet ski magazine? Put it down, Blue-Raz.” Mobius ripped the magazine from him, swivelled to his desk then swiveled again to flop a jacket in front of Loki.

“Gear up, there’s been an attack. Let’s go.” The agent commanded. Loki picked up the jacket. It unfolded from the collar, back facing him. “VARIANT” was emblazoned across it.

“Ah,” was all he commented as he moved to slip it on before his handler got any ideas while he was led down hallways. Norns knew the agent would have plenty of examples in his own life up to that point, much less his future or other variants.

“Good. Yeah. Smart.” Mobius commented with his fists in a move reminiscent of excited warriors as said human stopped to look back at his charge and the newly bestowed article of clothing. B-15 gave her usual droll stare. Her minutemen stood around her in a group.

“ C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant.”

The “actually dangerous” sort, Loki groused silently. Then Mobius opened his mouth.

“Here's the deal. When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant. And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include shape-shifting, illusion-projection, and my favorite... Duplication-casting. Illusion-Projection.”

Mobius gestured to him when applicable in his little speech, also projecting other variations of Loki with his TemPad--all assumedly pruned likewise. Variation 8: L6792 looked exactly like he would now had he’d been afforded the luxury of keeping his clothes, but also with slight differences that led Loki to think that that variant must have been favored royally in some way he was rejected.

Variation 8: L1247 looked like a Midguardian sportsman happily holding a trophy of some kind. Variation 8: L6792 was an atrocity of him and the Hulk combined. Variation 8: L8914 was more strongly built with more prominent hair curls in their longer hair. They stood like dignitary with their hands behind them. Variation 8: L7803 looked like an oaf. A full, half-face helmet emblazoned with the horns in the wrong direction and even a piece of turf over the shoulder like a cape. Oh, dear….

“No.”

“...Huh?”

“Those two powers are completely different, although, I am unsurprised you cannot comprehend it.”

“Loki, what are you talking about--look, I’ve dealt with more of you than you’ve dealt with yourself.”

“The truth remains that those powers are not the same.”

“Then, please, Loki, tell me.”

Loki smiled easily and supplicatingly at the contempt and patronization, just like talking to anyone in Asguard.

“ Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure.”

“Ok, take a breath. Noted. We’re gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki here”

B-15 still looked unamused and dubious.

“Whoever the Variant is, we haven’t been able to find them so I’m the Sherlock and he’s my Watson. Look, this’ll work.” Mobius said to her. She side-eyed Loki, Loki who had nothing but a branded jacket to protect himself with.

“And so my agency in this is to… tell you how brilliant you are.”

“Go outside, maybe touch some grass.” Mobius returned with a tilted smile under his twisted nose.

“Ah. I shall protect myself with your wit, then, should this superior being choose me as a next target.”

Mobius chuckled and mimed “talky-talky” again.

He passed through the portal B-15 had summoned, closed in on both ends by TVA agents. Immediately, he could feel his seidr swell within him again and redonned his Aesir glamor. The choker chafed as he glanced around, and he found himself much preferring the biting metal of the chains he was usually imprisoned in. The place they passed into was a celebration of old Midguardian times, further back than what the TVA modeled itself after, in direct juxtaposition of the modern technology with the humans held in their hands, and had used to both get to the location and create their sometimes elaborate costumes.

“Apex of nexus signature located, ma'am,” a minuteman said as they walked.

“Allow me to ask you this, why do we not travel to the moments prior to the Variant’s attack, to when they arrive.” Loki asked as the tent grew ever nearer.

“Nexus events destabilize the time flow. This branch is still changing and growing, so you gotta show up in real time. Did you watch any of the training videos you were supposed to?”

The minutemen twisted their batons, the ends glowing a shade that seemed to haunt the TVA as they neared.

Loki chuckled a laugh that was never and would never be heartfelt, “my dear Sherlock, you should know I am quite the scholar. But these ‘reset charges,’ they ‘prune’ a branched timeline which ‘allows time to heal all wounds.’”

Mobius made an odd gesture towards him, “he’s on it.”

Within the dark, torch-lit tent, limp minutemen laid about the displays which held real weapons and a large, stepped seating construct. Their bodies were splayed out in obvious struggle. Unactivated batons laid around as well, a few clenched in hands. A helmet bearing “C-20” laid, discarded within the scene. Loki hovered a hand over one display as he passed and they grouped around the scene.

“So he's taking hostages now?” B-15 spat.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before,” Mobus returned.

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her,” a minuteman remarked.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.” B-15 returned.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 ordered, her minutemen immediately moving to obey.

“Let's go. She's right.” A peon echoed.

Mobius concurred, “Come on.”

“Wait….” Loki said, brow knit as he studied the scene.

“What do you see?” Mobius asked as he stepped away from the entrance.

“I see wolf’s teeth.”

“Yeah, ok,” Mobius motioned for him to hurry and Loki got brief satisfaction that the human had no idea what he was talking about.

“‘Where there are wolf’s ears, there are wolf’s teeth,’” Loki echoed one of many sayings he heard during his childhood, especially before bed. He swallowed down the thought of a certain story about blue, darkly lined and vicious monsters.

“Ridiculous, really,” he laughed hallowly, “my people are gullible fools by nature. You remind me of them; the Time Variance Authority and the great gods of Asgard. One and the same. Drunk with power, blinded to the truth. Those you underestimate will devour you, and we’ve just walked into a wolf’s mouth.” He raked his eyes across his audience as he spoke, kneeling down in front of the helmet and stroking his hand in the grassy turf. The minutemen seemed to falter ever so slightly, B-15 rolled her eyes, and Mobius stared.

A TemPad beeped, “two units, he’s wasting our time.”

“No, step outside this tent and my other Variant will devour you,” Loki stated plainly. It was easy, nearly in a terrifying way, how he fell into the usual routine he had had with his oaf of a brother and his lackeys, who, similarly, never headed his words.

“We need to look for C-20.” B-15 repeated.

“Come on, Loki, we don’t have time for your lies.”

“Oh, I am not lying, and out of curiosity, when you find them, will you prune us both seeing as you will not have any need of me?”

Mobius sighed and gesticulated like a frustrated middle-aged Midguardian, “he’s lying.”

Loki’s head turned to the side minutely, in a ghost of a head shake. His stomach turned the way it usually did when he knew things were about to--.

“Aghr!” A minuteman had exited and had been consequently slaughtered. A brawl broke out just outside the small entrance. Innocent event-goers made exclamations outside as well. Batons revved, and B-15 and Mobius stalked to the opening. Loki walked behind them.

“The charge!” Someone yelled. The fight continued. A cloaked figure with amazing skill in combat fought them all while a crowd of civilians formed around them. There were a few smiles and jeers, no doubt thinking it was all a show.

“On behalf of t-... the Time Va-...Variance Authority, I hereby-... arrest you for-... for crimes against the… Sacred Timeline, V-… Variant!” B-15 huffed between blows.

“Ergh!” A minuteman got pruned. Loki’s cloaked variant said nothing, only continued fighting. He backed back into the tent, took aloft a jousting lance, broke it half and reemerged. For all their combined ability, the TVA was losing. The glow of pruning swung around arbitrarily. He dipped into the fight and caught his counterpart’s cutlass in the cross the two ends of the lance made.

“Pardon me, I mean no intrusion,” he said calmly to his other self, noticing a similar collar of metal that had adorned his own garments. He could feel the other’s tension as they reclaimed their sword and focused solely on him. It proved more of a poor decision than anticipated and he found himself holding his breath in pain more than he’d wanted. The wood was also useless and even though both it and he put up a valiant fight, his other self had taken hold of a baton along the line. His weapons were useless as they continued to share blows. He lowered the stubs of wood and opened his arms. The glowing end came close.

Then it wasn’t.

The grunting that followed was B-15 and Mobius disarming the variant of the baton and nearly restraining them.

“About to redline!” A remaining minuteman nearly yelled. B-15 and Mobius shared a look. A door was opened and Loki found the cloaked figure disappearing into a flurry of gold.

“What in the Rolling Stones was that, Blue-Raz?!” Mobius had him hard by the shoulder of both his jacket and dress shirt.

Loki blinked once then made eye contact with Mobius, “what ever do you mean?”

“He was about to kill you!”

“Prune,” Loki politely corrected. Mobius gawked.

“I kno--what were you thinking?!”

“Your only use of me is to capture me, I was assisting in that.”

“By letting you be killed by yourself?!”

“A mere distraction to the larger goal, Mobius.”

“And it almost worked,” B-15 piped from somewhere beside them. Her voice had dropped a tone or two.

“Yeah… almost had ‘im too.” Mobius admitted, letting Loki go. “But seriously, man, what was that?”

“Nearly fulfilling my role, as you yourself stated.” Loki replied pleasantly.

“We also barely pruned it in time and got outta there with our lives.” B-15 stated.

“Yeah…” Mobius rubbed the back of his head with his other hand on his hip as he stared at the floor. I was not lying, Loki wanted to say. To push. To scream. But he instead focused on the ache in his back. It should be fine in a matter of a few more hours given the time he had for recovery before the Tesseract opened the portal in New York and he was knocked from the Mind Stone’s, and thus Thanos’, direct influence.

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

Loki subconsciously touched his hideously blue palm as he waited outside of the judge’s office for his handler. The doors were decorated with sandglasses. How quaint .

Mobius finally emerged, stalking right past him. Loki fell in step behind him. He realized such only after he’d done it.

An angry finger wagged in front of him as they walked, “one thing, Loki, that’s all I asked.”

“The ‘talk’ from earlier.”

“No! Catching the superior version of yourself. We lost guys out there today-- good guys!” Good, yes, ‘good guys’ who also happened to have erased who knows how many people from existence.

“There would have been a lot more had I not been there and, likewise, a lot less had I been heeded.”

“And there you go again. That narcissism! Do you ever stop? Get tired of yourself?”

Loki didn’t respond as Mobius stopped and whirled on him, only gave him his schooled expression.

“I’m on thin ice ‘cause of you. I saved you, remember that? Didn’t that mean anything to your Asguardian standards or personal morals or anything?”

“If you recall, I was about to meet that fate regardless as I helped you bring in my Variant. I also have little doubt you will delete me if I survive assisting you in their arrest either way.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy? Ok. Well that other you is worse, remember that. He’s killed a lot of people--more than you. You’re just a little blue ice runt, crying in the cold.”

Loki chuckled and didn’t even need to bite back the urge to correct this “Loki expert.”

“Ever get tired of playing this same old part?” Mobius continued bitterly, “I’m getting sick of your constant need for sympathy, Loki!”

“Mobius?” He asked after allowing a few minutes to pass.

“What?” Mobius mumbled.

“This other Variant is after reset charges, why not supervise another ‘pruning’ in case we find the correct branch they target. How many happen in a day, usually?”

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

Loki almost choked when they entered into an Aguardian hall. The was beautiful and towering and held stones and architecture he could rewrite the books about. For one blissful second, he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of his homeland--or the place he was raised. His glamor fell over him unconsciously.

Then he had to play follow-the-leader with the TVA peons. He rounded a large corner and immediately knew how many steps it would take to get to his room, his mother’s and Thor’s.

“Loki?” A familiar voice boomed. Loki tensed. Mobius cast him a “good luck” glance and mumbled, “I’ll be back for ya, Blue-Raz”

Loki had the urge to run him through followed by his brother who should not—it didn’t matter, the timeline would be reset. The Thor bounding up behind him would be pruned with everything else… why did that hurt? He turned to face his adopted sibling.

“Loki, it is you? Isn’t it? I mean you look horrendous in that getup, but it’s you!” Thor held his hands out in what could only be described as reverence. But the esteemed Asguardian Prince was wearing dirty Midguardian clothes and had a beer gut to match. How? Barely any time had elapsed between that moment and when they were facing down in New York.

“It is me but what happened to you, brother?”

A shadow came over Thor’s face. His hands lowered and he reached out to Loki.

“Tell me the truth,” he whispered, “did you just escape the dungeons?”

Loki held his gaze for a few long moments. The timeline will be reset. There is no harm in it.

“No, Thor, I never—this me never went to the dungeons. Never came back to Asguard.”

Thor hissed an inhalation of breath as his eyes widened.

“Thor what happened to you? Why do you have mismatched eyes? Where is your armor? Or Mjolnir?”

“Oh, Loki! Loki. Loki. Loki.” Thor’s voice trembled with false laughter and an emotion Loki didn’t know, “what--you look horrendous. What in the Nine Realms are you wearing?”

“Thor, it is good to see you, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time for a chat.” Loki returned, clipped. Redline grew ever nearer.

Thor’s face fell again, “Loki… just tell me you’re alive. That I didn’t fail you on the Statesmen--Thanos is dead now, I-I killed him! I-... I killed him… I avenged you.”

“Oh, Thor,” Loki found himself saying as Thor’s eyes shined and tears spilled onto his cheeks. He allowed himself to be squeezed in the other’s arms… and found it to be the best hug he’d ever received… or the only hug….

“Thor… Thor, are you listening?” Thor only sobbed into his shoulder, holding Loki up against his beer gut and off of the actual floor.

“Y-yes?”

“Very soon, this timeline will be reset which means you will have never seen me here. So tell me, what happened to you?”

Thor whined in the back of his throat and plopped Loki back down, it was just hard enough to make pain spike up his nearly healed spine.

“I--You--Thanos--.”

Loki laid his arms on Thor’s biceps, squeezing gently, Thor shuttered then took a breath and smiled fondly at him. Fondly. Thor never did that. What sort of--how is he not the Variation?

“So after Ragnarok, Thanos… had all the Stones and killed half of what was left of Asguard including you. I wasn’t able to--I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me, Thor, I am right here.”

“Then I was found by the space morons and went to Nidevelir to forge Storm Breaker because Hela broke Mjolnir before Sakaar--Ragnarok happened because of her. Then we battled with the Avengers in Wakanda and… I didn’t go for the head! How could I have not gone for the head?! Thanos snapped and…. It was horrible, brother. Absolutely horrible. The whole universe. And so many extinctions followed and more tragedies. I-....” He hung his head. “I tried to drown my worries like the ‘oaf’ I am….”

“I thought your annoying little group was the ‘Avengers’ not the ‘Alcoholics.’”

“... Ha!” Thor slapped him on the back. The statement seemed to have brought about the intended reaction.

“Yes! Of course! So five years later, we found him and I slayed him! But Tony and Scott found a way to move through time to get the stones to undo it all, and so we did, and we succeeded! But still, Thanos haunted us and we had a final battle--which we won!” Thor seemed to have noticed himself that he was about to go into one of his long winded stories of victory, and cut it short.

Then his smile abated and his beard fell, “Loki, Steve and Tony lost the Tesseract in 2012 to you…?”

“Yes, yes, that would be me, brother.”

A gasp of breath as Thor readied himself for the most bone crushing hug in the universe was all that was afforded to Loki.

“Thor,” he wheezed slightly, “I know I was not kindest to you but must you kill me prematurely?”

“Oh, Loki! I never threw you off the Bifrost, and I-!”

“Charge is set, we gotta boogie!” Mobius interrupted, jogging over.

Thor allowed the interruption if only to interrogate him, “and who are you? How and why do you command my brother? If you are with Tha-!”

To Loki’s astonishment, a few electrical charges emanate off of his brother.

“No, time to talk. Put Loki down We gotta get outta Dodge.”

Thor’s grip tightened, “Thor, just do it!” Loki groused. Thor did. Mobius opened the portal.

“Sorry, big guy, big fan but I need your Buddy. You ever think of trying Old Spice?”

“Ah--I just--Loki just returned to me as he always does and you expect me to just give up?!”

“Thor, do not follow us, I would rather not see you get deleted.”

Heavy feet crossed through the yellow threshold and left 2023 Thor in 2014 with a gaping mouth and tear stained cheeks.

“So no Loki!” Mobius announced as he clapped his hands together, “that means we gotta get to work!” He went on to walk at a brisk pace. Loki trailed after, blinking back the stinging in his now red eyes.

“I was of the understanding that is what we were doing,” he put a hand over his throat while he cleared it.

“I need you to go over each and every one of this Variant's case files, and then, give me your... How do I put it?... Your unique Loki perspective. And who knows? Maybe there's something that we missed.”

Seeing as how you are so hypocritical, I would be surprised if you had not missed anything. Honestly, “all you Lokis are the same” yet in the same breath, “no Loki variant is exactly alike.” I think as I do.

“You are the expert, I trust your judgement” Loki said instead.

“That's why I'm lucky I got ya for a little bit longer. Let me park ya at this desk. And don't be afraid to really lean into this work. Here's a good trick for you: pretend your life depends on it. I'm gonna get a snack.”

For all his countless hours spent in not only the Grand Library, but others around Asguard and the other Realms, he found himself having little interest in sifting through all the instances in which that other version of him overcame the great TVA and triggered more animosity against themselves--and all other Lokis.

“Any motive, Sherlock?” He asked dryly.

“That’s what you’re for!” The agent chuckled, poked at his chest and walked away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the agent walk away then turned his attention to the paperwork. The pattern was known to begin with but became… inane the more pages he flipped through: nexus event, dispensed TVA agents, the team goes silent, they’re found dead and without the reset charge, Mobius, the expert, is called in for investigation and then the branch is reset before redline.

One Loki… only one to best their happy little teams. I was bested, but I also have extenuating circumstances of the past year. Without Thanos’ interruption, could I have?... Yes, I fought alongside Thor and his foolish troup of warriors, I would have been able to exact my own damage. For a ‘timeline protection force,’ how are they schooled in combat?

“Pardon me,” he tapped the librarian’s bell. She turned to him with a nonplussed expression.

“Could you show me to the combat regimens of our dear agents?”

“No.”

“Infographics?”

“No.”

“Battle end-games?”

“No.”

“Well, you have been very helpful, thank you.” It was still a library after all and he more than knew his way around one seidr or not; his mind was still intact--somewhat intact and that had always been his greatest weapon.

So he sat back down at the table to form a plan of action, so to speak, of how he could find the files he wanted in the fastest and most assured way. But, he still had all the paperwork of this other Loki, dripping in red. Oozing. Gushing. Like Thor’s cape as yet more enemies were put to ruin under his brother’s sheer might. He never envied that red; never thought he could own it or have it become him… yet this other version had jumped--leapt into that pool of blood and ended all who stood in their way. Incapacitation would have sufficed. Has sufficed in innumerable cases. He’d both saved lives of his comrades and stupid brother, and saw the end goal in such a way.

He gasped and leapt up, running along the railing of the library.

“Mobius--.”

“No, I said, ‘don’t bother me until you’ve read all the files,’ and I know you don’t read that fast.” Mobius set his Js\osta down with a hard thonk .

“I have, but unimportant--.” Loki slid into the seat across from the agent in the cafeteria.

“No, read every file pertaining to the Variant.”

“The answer does not lie in the files, it lies on the timeline!” Mobius gave him a dangerous look at the slight raising of his voice. Loki took a breath.

“Look,” Loki began again with his arms fanning over the table, “they’re hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which one? There’s, like, a million?”

“Take Ragnarok, I assume you are familiar?”

“Yeah, total destruction of your weird coin planet and most of its people because of your sister Hela. I’m sorry.”

Sister? Hela? Thor mentioned her--unimportant now.

“Yes, well, that recent visit with Thor got me thinking…?”

Mobius regarded him but eventually sighed and sat back, making a small gesture, “yeah, sure, ok.”

“Nexus events happen when someone does something that is not meant to happen--.”

“A bit more complicated but yeah.”

“These can culminate into entire other timelines--.”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.” Loki did his best to ignore the interruptions. He forced animation into his movements as if trying to explain it to Thor. That was best, pretend he was explaining something that now seemed so basic to the warrior.

“Alright! So this is Asgard,” he plundered the agent’s salad bowl. Said agent gave sad push back. Loki continued.

“I could travel back to Asgard preceding Ragnarok and do whatever I wished; switch crowns, resoil linens, topple some columns. I could destroy the Rainbow Bridge.” He grabbed the small salt shaker and started pouring some in. Mobius mourned his food. Loki was not fed.

“None of this would matter. Not if I set fire to the courtyard. Or even killed the Allfather!”

“Why--Lo--God, Loki!”

“Excuse me,” Loki greeted Casey kindly at an adjacent table, “are you finished with this?”

Casey, who had his bunched napkin thrown on his plate in clear sign of being finished looked from his crumpled juice box to Loki, “you!”

“Yes, very nice to see you again,” Loki took the drink container and poured it into the salad, secretly relishing how the agent utterly deflated.

“Due to Surtur!” Loki finished.

Mobius rubbed his hand down his face, “what am I lookin’ at?”

“Apocalypses, Holmes.”

“Loki, you just apocalypse my lunch, I wanted to eat that!”

“You want my other Variant.”

Mobius leaned onto the table, “cut to the chase.”

“That is how they have escaped you for so long; no matter what happens, an apocalypse negates anything that would otherwise summon the TVA.”

“Oh, not bad. Not Bad. Hey, so, how do you weigh over five hundred pounds?”

That was a “jackknife”--as Midgaurdians may say--that he did not expect.

Mobius raised his hands, “hey, I’m not judging, just curious.”

“Focus, Mobius, please.”

“Ok, ok. My salad. Destroyed.” Another despondent hand waved at the bowl.

“I can show you my theory is true.”

Mobius laughed, “I’m not letting you go.”

“You come with me, naturally,” Loki pushed.

“Well, I’ve had enough of your troublemaking for one day.”

“No one has to know unless I am correct--which I am.”

“TVA agents can’t just go running around anyway. Waltzing into the White House would be a Nexus event.”

You are not listening!

“Pompeii, for instance, you Midguardians like talking about that catastrophe, we could go there!”

“Pompeii?”

“Pompeii. Everyone died and that town was not even the worst hit of the eruption of Vesuvius.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Talk, talk, talk. Oh, you’re so smart!” Mobius sneered and wiped his mouth with his napkin despite not having spilled anything much less eaten enough to make a mess of his face. No food for either of them it seemed.

“If I go along with this and you stab me in the back, you’re getting erased. Capische?”

“Understood,” I am fully expecting that regardless.

#loki #loki series #loki show #Loki Show Rewrite #loki series rewrite project #loki series rewrite fanfic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #cannon non-compliant #gentle reminder that just because a character says something doesn't make it true

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hermannsthumb · 5 years ago

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My birthday’s coming up and I was wondering if it would be cool if you did a fic? A fic involving TWO Hermanns?? If you have time of course...💖

happy birthday 😉😉😉😉😉

18+/not safe for work below cut! damn i need to write some sfw fluff on here soon

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Hermann–to Newt’s great disappointment–has been incredibly blasé about this whole thing.

No, not blasé. He was appropriately freaked out of his mind when it happened, spent an appropriate amount of time shouting at Newt (because, yeah, it was Newt’s fault, so sue him! sometimes buttons are too tempting not to push and your lab partner gets caught in the literal crossfire and weird science happens!), and an equally appropriate length of time after that storming down to LOCCENT, HR, and the Marshal’s private quarters to file a complaint with anyone who would listen, but once a few hours passed, and nothing changed (for the worse, or for the better), Hermann began to chill a little. After a few days, Newt might even say it was back to normal.

Which fucking sucks. What’s the point of having your super sexy sorta-boyfriend lab partner suddenly split into two super sexy sorta-boyfriend lab partners if you can’t even, you know, test drive ‘em?

All Newt is asking is that Hermann humor him and let him live out a fantasy or two. Or four. If Hermann accidentally cloned him, he would be falling over himself to have weird, funky threeways. Both he’s would be. Hermann, on the other hand, won’t even kiss himself while Newt watches (and jerks off a little, because, come on, he has biological needs), let alone–

“I just don’t think it’s a very good idea, is all, Newton,” Hermann says. Hermann #1, the OG Hermann. Newt knows it’s him because he’s wearing a plaid sweatervest as per Newt’s request to make this a tiny bit less confusing.

“Why?” Newt whines. “If you’re going to make some stupid speech on the ethics of clone fucking, or fidelity, or abusing science again–” He got one of those speeches already when he proposed the make out with yourself thing. (Newton, how terribly disgusting, how immature, have you no shame? Newt doesn’t, but he can’t see how it makes a difference.)

“Don’t be so daft,” Hermann #2 says. Solid color sweatervest. Earlier today he and Hermann #1 put their heads together and powered through Hermann’s daily workload at an astonishing speed (Newt is not jealous, why should he care that his amazing intellect never affected Hermann like that) and now are doing a crossword puzzle together on the lab couch. The identical, synchronized hming and little no, no, what about-s has been driving Newt up the wall all afternoon. Mostly in a horny way. (Would they sound like that if they combined their efforts to turn Newt into a whiney, sweaty wreck?) “That’s not at all why.”

“Only,” Hermann #1 says, “well–” He shares a look with Hermann #2, and together they set the puzzle down. “How will the logistics of your suggestion even work?”

“In other words,” Hermann #2 adds, delicately, “how will we fit, Newton?”

“You’re rather…” Hermann #1 begins.

“…Compact,” Hermann #2 finishes.

Newt clambers over the back of the couch and squeezes himself between both of his super sexy sorta-boyfriends. His compactness makes it easy. “You will,” he promises. “Listen, have I ever backed down from something like this before?”

“We’ve never done anything of this sort together before,” Hermann #1 says.

But Hermann #2 frowns pensively. “No, no,” he says, “there was one occasion–”

“On my birthday,” Newt agrees. Hermann got a little carried away screwing him and slipped a finger in alongside his dick. It was pretty hot. Newt sometimes still thinks about it on nights when he and Hermann have had a lover’s spat and Hermann refuses to come to bed for some healthy anger-relieving fun–it keeps him warm.

“But that’s hardly the same as an entire,” Hermann #1 says, and then coughs, because Hermann wouldn’t say penis aloud if you held a gun to his head, “well–you know.”

Newt reaches out both of his hands, settling one on Hermann #1′s right thigh, and the other on Hermann #2′s left. Then he lowers them until they’re settled over-top the wool stretched over two identical pairs of junk, which begin to perk up in interest. Victory! “I think we should have sex,” Newt declares. “I think all three of us should have sex, and we should have sex right here in the lab. I promise I’ll even stop asking you to make out.” This is a lie, but he’s hoping Hermann will be more inclined to humor him once he’s in the throes of endorphins-releasing passion.

Hermann is always a pushover when it comes to being presented with the opportunity to get his dick anywhere within the vicinity of Newt, no matter how much he denies it, so it doesn’t take much–just a little bit of gentle rubbing and big, wide, innocent eyes on Newt’s part–for both Hermanns to go from I have never had sex before in my life, Newton, how dare you presume such vulgarities to groping at Newt’s love handles and macking messily on his neck. It’s really, really awesome.

“Goddamn,” Newt moans, “this is so hot.”

One Hermann works a hickey into the hollow of his throat; the other (having already unbuttoned his collar) tugs his tie aside to lick over his collarbone. Newt sinks lower down the couch, head tipping back. “Hah, keep doing that. Guh.”

“So very sweet,” Hermann #1 murmurs. (That’s another thing Hermann does when they fool around: he gets nice. Really, genuinely nice, the sort of nice that means he whispers little praises and compliments into Newt’s skin and acts like he’d rather die than ever raise his voice at him again. Newt really likes when Hermann gets nice.) He unbuttons Newt’s shirt the rest of the way and trails his fingertips down his chest, stopping when he reaches Newt’s abdomen, where he gives a little teasing pinch, and trails them back up.

“He is,” Hermann #2 purrs, and flicks open Newt’s fly, one button at a time.

His jeans are pushed down from his hips. His briefs follow. Two identical too-big too-elegant hands wrap around his dick; Newt whines, and spreads his legs. “Fuck,” he says. “Hermann, I fucking love–” He stumbles a bit over the next word, because he’d been fully about to say you, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing? “–This.”

“Is there still lubricant under the sofa cushion, Newton?” one of the Hermanns says, deciding to mercifully ignore Newt’s verbal screw-up. He doesn’t stop jerking Newt off. “I don’t fancy ducking out to find some.”

Last time they fucked on the couch, Newt made a big deal of stashing the goods in it when they were done for future easy access. Now–as he nods, and Hermann #2 finds it quickly underneath a throw pillow–he’s goddamn glad he did. “I still don’t think we’ll fit,” Hermann #2 says.

“Don’t knock it til–” Newt curses, because Hermann #1 is doing something very nice with his thumb on Newt’s slit. “Til you uh, try it.”

They try it; after a great deal of rearranging, careful prep, indignant grunts on Newt’s part, and soothing kisses from both Hermanns to his skin and mouth, they fit, to Newt’s indescribable delight. He leans against Hermann #1′s chest with Hermann #2 pressed tight up against his back, both of their arms wrapped around him, both of their dicks pressed up inside him, and wantonly moans his little heart out.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, “oh, fuck, that’s–hah–ah–”

“Tight,” Hermann #2 grunts.

“No shit,” Newt says. “Wow!”

Hermann #1 isn’t speaking at all: the last glimpse Newt took of him, his mouth was slack, and his pupils were so blown they threatened to envelope his irises entirely. He makes a feeble noise against where he’s pressed his face to Newt’s shoulder. “Move,” Newt says.

“How?” Hermann #2 says.

“Do it,” Newt begs, “please, please, just a little, I wanna feel–”

He scrabbles his nails desperately at their arms, urging them on, and Hermann #1 squeaks and rocks his dick up just that bit more into him; then, unceremoniously, without so much as a warning, he comes in Newt.

“Oh, bugger,” he groans.

Hermann #2 makes a noise of disgust. “That feels very strange. You ought to have warned me.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #not sfw //////////////////#Anonymous

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bitcoincables · 2 years ago

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Potential Approval of Bitcoin ETFs by SEC - a Significant Step Towards Legitimizing Cryptocurrencies

In the coming days, the US Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) may approve bitcoin exchange-traded funds (ETFs) that directly hold the digital currency. If approved, this move would be a significant step towards legitimizing cryptocurrencies as an asset class. Various issuers have tried to launch bitcoin ETFs in the past, but they were all rejected due to concerns over market regulation and manipulation.

The Winklevoss brothers, known for their early involvement in bitcoin, filed for the launch of the Winklevoss Bitcoin Trust back in 2013. However, the SEC denied their request due to regulatory concerns. Other issuers, such as Grayscale Investments, Bitwise, and VanEck, also faced rejection from the SEC for their bitcoin ETF applications.

In recent times, there has been growing optimism surrounding the approval of bitcoin ETFs, with industry giants like BlackRock and Fidelity having applications under review by the SEC. Additionally, a court victory for Grayscale against the SEC has added further momentum to the possibility of ETF approval. Issuers are now offering more details about how the funds would operate, signaling a change in behavior that could lead to a change in outcome.

Read the original article

#bitcoin #SEC #cryptocurrency #ETF

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ailtrahq · 2 years ago

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The race to list the first spot-traded Bitcoin (BTC) exchange-traded fund (ETF) in the United States has seen the entrance of major financial institutions like BlackRock, Fidelity and VanEck. While the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) first approved a Bitcoin-linked Futures ETF in October 2021, the current filings are for spot Bitcoin ETFs. Following Grayscale’s recent legal victory against the SEC’s review of its spot Bitcoin ETF proposal, many now believe approval of the investment funds is more likely.The interest of BlackRock — the world’s largest asset manager with over $8 trillion worth of assets under management — prompted several other institutions to refile for a spot Bitcoin ETF. Most of these asset managers had to either withdraw their spot Bitcoin ETF filings or face rejection due to the SEC’s reservations concerning a spot-derived ETF. Here are the key Bitcoin ETF applicants:BlackRock: BlackRock filed for a spot Bitcoin ETF on June 15, with Coinbase as the crypto custodian and spot market data provider and BNY Mellon as its cash custodian. The filing shocked the crypto and traditional finance world, and the firm’s CEO, Larry Fink, had previously called BTC an index for money laundering. On July 15, the SEC formally accepted BlackRock’s spot Bitcoin ETF application for review. WisdomTree: The New York-based asset manager first filed for a spot Bitcoin ETF in the U.S. on Dec. 8, 2021, which was rejected by the SEC in 2022. The agency claimed the ETF fell short in terms of investor protection; however, with BlackRock’s entry in the spot Bitcoin ETF race, WisdomTree refiled with the SEC on July 19. Valkyrie Investments: Asset management firm Valkyrie filed its first spot Bitcoin ETF application in January 2021 but faced rejection from the SEC, like many other asset managers. However, with the rejuvenated enthusiasm around a spot Bitcoin ETF, Valkyrie refiled its application on June 21. The ETF would refer to the Chicago Mercantile Exchange’s (CME) reference price for Bitcoin and trade on NYSE Arca, with Xapo as the crypto custodian.ARK Invest: ARK filed an application for its ARK 21Shares Bitcoin ETF in June 2021. ARK Invest has partnered with Swiss-based ETF provider 21Shares to offer the fund, and it will launch on the Chicago Board Options Exchange (Cboe) BZX Exchange under the ticker symbol ARKB if approved.VanEck: VanEck is one of the earliest Bitcoin ETF applicants, making its first filing in 2018. The asset manager withdrew its application in September 2019 and made a second attempt with the SEC in December 2020, with shares of the trust set to trade on the Cboe BZX Exchange. The firm filed a new application in July 2023.Fidelity/Wise Origin: Fidelity Investments first applied for a spot Bitcoin ETF in 2021 and refiled for its Wise Origin Bitcoin Trust on July 19, 2023. The Wise Origin Bitcoin Trust would see Fidelity Service Company serving as the administrator while Fidelity Digital Assets will act as the BTC custodian.Invesco Galaxy Bitcoin ETF: Invesco first filed an application for its Invesco Galaxy Bitcoin ETF jointly with Galaxy Digital on Sept. 22, 2021. The joint venture refiled its application in July. The joint Bitcoin ETF would be “physically backed” by Bitcoin, with Invesco Capital Management as the sponsor.Bitwise: Bitwise first filed for a spot Bitcoin ETF in October 2021, only to face rejection from the SEC. The asset manager refiled its application in August 2023.GlobalX: Fund manager GlobalX joined the ETF race in 2021, along with several other financial giants, when it filed for a spot Bitcoin ETF. The fund manager refiled its application in August 2023, becoming the ninth applicant. The firm named Coinbase as its surveillance-sharing partner.In light of Grayscale’s recent legal victory and the wave of renewed applications, ETF analysts at Bloomberg have raised their expected approval chances for a spot Bitcoin ETF to 75% from 65%.NEW: @JSeyff & I are upping our odds to 75% of spot bitcoin ETFs launching this yr (95% by end of '24).

While we factored Grayscale win into our prev 65% odds, the unanimity & decisiveness of ruling was beyond expectations and leaves SEC w "very little wiggle room" via @NYCStein pic.twitter.com/IyEGmWjuHa— Eric Balchunas (@EricBalchunas) August 30, 2023 As expected, the SEC has delayed its decision on all seven applicants. Analysts had predicted that the SEC may not decide on an ETF until early 2024 when the final deadlines approach (listed below). Spot Bitcoin ETF decision deadlines. Source: Bloomberg/TwitterJohn Glover, chief investment officer at crypto lending platform Ledn, told Cointelegraph that the ARK 21Shares “verdict slated for Jan. 10 will be the first real indicator as to whether the SEC is ready to start approving these types of applications. The final deadline is up at that point, and a decision will need to be made one way or another.”Why has the SEC rejected spot Bitcoin ETFs in the past?In its earlier rejection of VanEck’s spot Bitcoin ETF, the SEC claimed that the Bitcoin market is not big or mature enough to sustain ETF market demand. The commission also said the price volatility and inadequate level of trading surveillance could potentially leave the market prone to fraud and manipulation. However, with the entrance of BlackRock, market pundits have started to believe that the chances of a spot Bitcoin ETF being approved are good. One of the major factors preventing a spot ETF from getting approved is the nature of the fund. A futures ETF is based on futures contracts rather than the digital asset itself, which is an important distinction. The futures markets are already heavily regulated to prevent market manipulation, thus making it easier for the SEC to approve such ETFs.At the heart of these spot ETF rejections is the issuer’s requirement to incorporate a “surveillance-sharing agreement” with a sufficiently large and regulated Bitcoin-related market. Such agreements are integral in ensuring that the SEC can conduct exhaustive investigations in the event of any market irregularities. A Bitfinex Alpha analyst told Cointelegraph that one of the vital concerns behind the rejection of spot Bitcoin ETFs is the regulator’s ability to track and continuously ensure asset safety and custody. However, for that to happen, the U.S. needs more regulatory and legal infrastructure before the “SEC or other involved parties would be comfortable in allowing an ETF provider to handle it.”“If not, then the entire purpose of an ETF (which is to circumvent dealing with digital asset wallets or crypto exchanges) is defeated. Thus, it would not be fair to say that spot Bitcoin ETFs do not propose manipulation concerns in the SEC’s eyes. The ProShares Bitcoin ETF disapproval dated back to 2018 clarifies this very point. Another concern with regard to the document’s literature was the ability of the Bitcoin market to handle the volume that would be brought in via the introduction of a spot ETF,” the analyst added. The SEC is mainly concerned about the robustness of the trading venues. The regulator oversees futures exchanges like the CME and the Cboe, and any futures ETFs will be restricted to only trading on those regulated venues. Whereas there are no SEC-regulated spot exchanges. However, not everyone agrees with the SEC’s assumptions about the vulnerabilities of the spot crypto ETF market. James Koutoulas, the founder of a futures-focused hedge fund Typhon, told Cointelegraph:“I can attest that the crypto futures are far inferior to the spot in terms of tracking error. The concept that a U.S. regulator can provide adequate ‘surveillance’ against market manipulation on a global 12-figure market is delusional. So, honestly, it probably comes down to passing the buck to the CFTC rather than retaining accountability. Given the SEC has an ‘investor protection’ mandate.”He added that by continuing to reject the simplest products like a BTC ETF, the ”SEC keeps pushing demand for crypto offshore and unregulated players. While a BTC

ETF may not be perfect, it is much safer than buying BTC with Gensler’s family friend SBF [Sam Bankman-Fried] at FTX.”Richard Gardener, CEO of tech infrastructure firm Modulus, believes futures ETFs have long been seen as more palatable for regulators and that the decision over a spot ETF is a matter of when not if.He told Cointelegraph that a spot BTC ETF is “coming, sooner rather than later, and the heavy investment from major players like BlackRock and Fidelity signal this. As long as the major players are in the hunt, the industry is seen as viable in the long term, despite any short-term setbacks. If the SEC continues to refuse to act, politicians will be forced to act and develop their own answer to the crypto dilemma.”Ether futures ETF have more chances of approvalWhile crypto enthusiasts would prefer to see spot ETFs, which would legitimize crypto as an asset class, U.S. regulators seem more likely to support futures ETFs.Bloomberg analysts have predicted that the chances of approval for an Ether (ETH) futures-derived ETF are over 90%, with nearly a dozen institutions lined up for approval.Reports in financial media suggested a high possibility of the SEC approving an Ether futures-based ETF as soon as October. This not surprising to us, we had said they would approve Ether Futures early on in race. Nice to be validated. Now what does it mean for spot? Hard to say beyond it shows that their views/policy/tolerance can change. https://t.co/JXCxNUpj2U— Eric Balchunas (@EricBalchunas) August 17, 2023 Ken Timsit, managing director at blockchain startup accelerator Cronos Labs, told Cointelegraph that the “thesis in favor of futures is that futures would enable investors to send signals about the price evolutions expected by the market, which in turn would help to dampen the volatility of Bitcoin and Ethereum price and counterbalance the large price swings that we have seen recently.”Doug Schwenk, CEO of Digital Asset Research, told Cointelegraph that the “near-term psychological impact would most likely give a boost to crypto markets as another proof point that regulators remain open to evolving the listed space and continued hope for the elusive spot ETF.” Source

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kalosian-writer · 5 years ago

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“Yes...Yes, I understand...” Honeyed voice, typing her notes as she continued the conversation with the Lab’s latest investor, a friendly smile on her face even if they couldn’t see it. She knew this game welll. “I’ll have to speak to the director about that, but I don’t imagine it being a problem...I’ll let him know as soon as possible, yes...thank you, too, and have a nice day.”

The woman’s shoulder’s drooped as she set down her Holocaster, letting out a pent-up sigh. Some people were just so obnoxious! But at least that was the last one she’d have to deal with for today. Onto something more interesting.

Getting out of her chair, Jules picked up a stack of files and a tablet (and her coffee, of course) and began to stride down the hall towards the elevator.

Very few people made it to this point in the recruitment process. There was the application, the background checks, the battle competency tests, the financial pledge...and finally an interview. Just to make sure their views were compatible with Team Flare’s mission, to get a sense of their fidelity to the cause, a general vetting...it was important to keep them on their toes, and Jules found it to be a rather amusing process.

Lost in thought as she was, she missed a step on her way down the stairs, stumbling and spilling her coffee all over. She cursed rather vulgarly under her breath, staring at the stains in her jacket and skirt. This wasn’t acceptable at all! It was only after a few moments that she looked up and realized someone had seen everything...and perhaps even gotten spilled on themselves.

#flare verse open #idk I needed something #also open for plotting (please hmu) but I'm gonna go see the cutie in a bit so I may be absent

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nerdygaymormon · 6 years ago

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If you have time, do you mind writing a post about the history of Family: A Proclamation of The World. I would like to know more about what was actually going on at the time. So many people say that they envisioned the problems are society would have before it was even a problem, but I don't believe that. I know some people claim this political document is doctrine because we sustain all the apostle as prophets, seers and revalators. I also have heard that it is not doctrine. Thank you!!

This is a good ask.

I’m going to detail the efforts to get gay marriage legalized in Hawaii and the Church’s opposition. I will also drop in other notable happenings that occurred during this time. These things led the Church to issue the proclamation.

———————————————————————

If we go all the way back to 1980′s, several cities and states were dealing with gay rights (anti-discrimination ordinances) and same-sex marriage.

Aug 1984 - Elder Oaks writes a memo (which gets leaked a few years later) outlining his recommendation for how the Church should oppose anti-discrimination laws and also same-sex marriage. He puts forth “secular” arguments that can be used in opposing legislation.

1986 - The annual Utah Gay and Lesbian Festival is begun

In 1988 the Church hired a marketing agency in Hawaii to monitor and promote the Church’s stance on gay issues. One reason for choosing a firm in Hawaii was to separate the church’s name from the legislative efforts the firm was undertaking.

n 1989 Denmark became the first country in the world to legally recognize same-sex unions, calling them “registered partnerships.”

1990 - For the Strength of Youth pamphlet is published and in the “Sexual Purity” section it says “the Lord specifically forbids … sex perversion such as homosexuality”. It continues “homosexual and lesbian activities are sinful and an abomination to the Lord” and “unnatural affections … toward persons of the same gender are counter to God’s eternal plan”

Oct 1990 - Utah’s first pride march is organized by BYU shock-aversion therapy survivor Connell O’Donovan. The marchers go right past the Salt Lake temple.

Dec 1990 - 3 same sex couples applied for marriage licenses in Hawaii. Hawaii’s marriage law doesn’t specify anything about the sex of the people getting married. The Hawaii Attorney General’s office was asked for an opinion. The opinion is that under the United States Constitution the right to marry is fundamental, but only for different-sex couples.

Mar 1991 - Elder Jack Goaslind, church young men president, stated that the church would withdraw from the Boy Scouts of America if homosexual youth were allowed to join.

Apr 1991 - Citing the Hawaii Attorney General’s opinion, the marriage licenses were denied to the three couples.

May 1991 - A lawsuit, later known as Baehr v. Miike, was filed asking for the same-sex exclusion to marriage in Hawaii be declared unconstitutional. Hearings took place in September. The court considered whether Hawaii constitution’s right to privacy included a right to same sex marriage and decided that it did not.

May 1991 - The play Angels in America debuts in San Francisco and goes on to Broadway, winning Tony Awards. The play features a gay Mormon in a mixed-orientation marriage.

Oct 1991 - The circuit court ruled against the three couples, but it wasn’t that simple. The court found that under Hawaii’s equal protection clause, denying marriage licenses to same-sex couples constituted discrimination based on sex and declared that the state is required to justify this discrimination under the standard of strict scrutiny.

Strict scrutiny means when it comes to infringing on a constitutional right, the government has to show it has a compelling interest that requires it to do so (some examples include national security, or preserving the lives of a large number of people). The law to achieve this compelling interest has be to crafted to be very narrow, not overly broad in what it addresses. And the law has to use the least restrictive means to achieve the purpose.

The couples who lost the case announce they’re going to appeal to the Hawaii Supreme Court.

________

Elder Donald L. Hallstrom was serving as a Regional Representative. You may not be familiar with that term because the calling of Regional Representative is now known as Area Authority Seventy.

Elder Hallstrom was reading the local paper’s coverage of the trial, dismissal and appeal. If the Hawaii supreme court takes the case, same-sex marriage could become legal in Hawaii. Elder Hallstrom makes sure his priesthood leaders are aware of this possibility.

Nov 1991 - The church responded with a letter to be read in all congregations from the First Presidency titled “Standards of Morality and Fidelity” which talks about the “sacred nature of procreative powers” and the “divinely appointed roles of men and women.” It also said “sexual relations are proper only between husband and wife…within the bonds of marriage.” And that “homosexual and lesbian behavior” is sinful and those people could face church discipline.

Although the letter is signed by all three members of the First Presidency, President Ezra Taft Benson was in very poor health and was rarely seen in public after 1989.

________

April 1992 - In General Conference, Elder Boyd K. Packer says that animals don’t mate with other animals of the same sex, so humans who do so degrade themselves below animals.

1992 - The Church publishes the pamphlet “Understanding and Helping Those Who Have Homosexual Problems” for ecclesiastical leaders. This booklet says that homosexual thoughts and feelings can be overcome and in some cases, heterosexual feelings emerge that lead to marriage.

Oct 1992 - The Hawaii Supreme Court heard the case.

April 1993 - Norway approves registered partnerships, becoming the 2nd country to legally recognize same-sex couples

May 1993 - The Hawaii Supreme Court issued its ruling. The court said if the state government wants to forbid same-sex marriages, it needs a compelling reason. Otherwise, limiting who a person may marry is sex-based discrimination and unconstitutional under Hawaii’s constitution which forbids any laws that discriminate by sex.

The high court sent the case back to the circuit court to issue a new decision based on whether the state can demonstrate a “compelling public interest” in denying marriage to same-sex couples.

The court gave the state legislature time to take action.

May 1993 – Apostle Boyd K. Packer gives an address at a meeting of the All-Church Coordinating Council and refers to homosexuality as one of the three major social problems that represent a danger to members.

Oct 1993 - Elder Dallin H. Oaks’ talk in General Conference says that “there are many political, legal, and social pressures for changes that confuse gender and homogenize the differences between men and women“.

Jan 1994 - The next Hawaii legislative session begins.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and the Catholic church decided to work together to influence the outcome of bills aimed at keeping marriage only between a man and a woman. Many “experts” were sent to Hawaii to testify, lobbyists were hired and worked behind the scenes.

The Hawaii legislature has competing bills to ban same-sex unions but none are successful because the Senate and House are unable to agree. They House versions of bills were more conservative than would pass in the Senate.

The legislature also creates the Commission on Sexual Orientation and the Law to study the issue of granting benefits to same-sex couples.

Feb 1994 – The First Presidency issues a letter that says the church is opposed to same-sex marriage. The statement says, “We encourage members to appeal to legislators, judges, and other government officials to preserve the purposes and sanctity of marriage between a man and a woman, and to reject all efforts to give legal authorization or other official approval or support to marriages between persons of the same gender.”

April 1994 - Elder Packer gives a conference address that mentions “those confused about gender” and “that changes in the laws around marriage and gender threaten the family.”

May 1994 - President Benson passes away and Howard W. Hunter becomes president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

June 1994 - Sweden approves registered partnerships for same-sex couples

Feb 1995 - After another year of working with legislators, attorneys and others in Hawaii, the church announced it would file a petition in the Baehr case to “protect freedom of religion to solemnize marriages between a man and a woman under Hawaiian law.”

In the petition, the Church argued that if same-sex marriage was legalized, (1) it feared the state would revoke its minister’s licenses to marry couples. (2) the church would face lawsuits claiming its ministers discriminate based on sex as to whom they will marry. (3) the Church can help the Attorney General present a more complete case because the state had limited time & resources.

Nov 1994 - Elder James E. Faust gave a speech at BYU where he says that homosexuality is not biological or inborn and that same-sex marriage would unravel families and the fabric of human society.

Feb 1995 - The LDS church recruits members to work with and donate to Hawaii’s Future Today as a way to oppose efforts to legalize same-sex marriage in Hawaii.

March 1995 - President Hunter dies and Gordon B. Hinckley becomes president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

March 1995 - The court rules that Church can’t intervene in the Baehr case because the no law requires a minister to perform every marriage. The state simply permits ministers to perform marriages, and they choose which to do. The church may face frivolous lawsuits, just like any individual or entity. The state of Hawaii is capable of presenting its case without the church.

Mar 1995 - Elder Dallin H. Oaks begins work on an article on same-sex attraction that will be published in October. In the article, Elder Oaks says that the concept of “homosexual” or “lesbian” as a kind of person is incompatible with LDS theology. Rather the terms should be reserved for use as adjectives that refer to kinds of behavior.

1995 - LDS Family Services publishes the manual “Understanding and Helping Individuals with Homosexual Problems” in which is says “There is sufficient scientific research and clinical evidence to conclude that homosexuality is treatable and preventable.”

Mar 1995 - Utah passes the country’s first Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) which says it will not recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states

Apr 1995 - The Hawaii legislature rewords the state statute on marriage to say one man and one woman.

Sept 1995 - The Hawaii Commission on Sexual Orientation and the Law is disbanded after an attempt to appoint Mormon & Catholic members to the Commission. It was seen as a violation of the separation of church and state. A second 7-member commission is set up using a different procedure.

Sept 1995 - The First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles presents a joint “Proclamation on the Family.” This is read by President Hinckley in the General Relief Society Broadcast

The proclamation seems to be primarily based off of Elder Packer’s conference talk from 1993.

———————————————————————

I was a student at the Church schools in Rexburg & Provo from Jan 1993 to June 1997. The Church’s efforts to sway the legalization of marriage in Hawaii was covered frequently in the school newspapers.

We have had at least one apostle say that when the Family: A Proclamation of The World was issued, people were commenting that this is all common sense and why would they need to publish this.

Perhaps some people did say those things, but those people were not paying attention.

———————————————————————

The FanProc is a summary of LDS doctrine. People who say that the proclamation isn’t doctrine typically mean it hasn’t been voted on and officially declared scripture.

Anyone who says this proclamation isn’t important because it’s not officially doctrine are kidding themselves. It is referenced in general conference more than the scriptures and hangs in the homes of most married couples of the church.

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erintoknow · 6 years ago

Text

i said peel the skin raw

fallen hero fanfic time again ~5.2k words [ao3] (9.8k/50k for nanowrimo)

title from [Ripe by Screaming Females]

–––

Dr. Mortum lets go of Jane’s arm as the two of them step into the laboratory proper. No experiments running in the background today. That’s different. Mortum glances back to her friend, a nervous smile to try and ease the tension. It doesn’t work. “Do you want a drink?”

“A drink?” Jane crosses her arms, scans the room. It’s been months since you felt the need to have Jane make a note of the exits in Mortum’s lab. Worktables, computer bank, a makeshift office space offset with fake-walls, everything is way too clean. “What’s with you today? We’re at your place now, can we finally talk about whatever’s going on?”

“I’ve got wine? Champagne, a nice Pinot Noir…”

“Mortum.”

“No? Alas.” Dr. Mortum exaggerates her shrug, brings a hand up to fiddle with her glasses. “How are you doing, mon amie? It’s been a while since we last talked. And a lot has… happened.”

Jane snorts, “Yeah, no shit.” Her expression softens, maybe that was a little too harsh. “I’m sorry. Things have been busy on my end too.”

“Mm-hm.” Mortum nods, not taking her eyes off the wine-rack she’s examining. “Adrestia keeping you busy?”

Jane falters, running her hands up her arms. Some scars, but nothing like yours, smoother. Jane can wear pull off a short sleeve dress like this without any fear. “Y–yeah. She didn’t cause any problems for you at the auction, did she?”

“You know how you advised me to just buy the teleportation gun?” Mortum taps a finger on one bottle, then pulls out the one next too it and moves to pour herself a drink. “She stole it.”

“Ah.” Jane grimaces. “I– actually, that’s part of why I needed to talk to you?”

“Oh? – Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” Mortum holds up the bottle. “Native Californian, 1979, summer before the big one hit.”

“Oh hell, fine.” Jane sighs and lets her arms drop to her sides. “My… my boss wants me to arrange a meeting. To, uh… return your gun.”

Mortum hands Jane a full glass and the two of them take seats around the workshop table. “She wants to meet? With me directly?” Mortum frowns. “In person?”

“Yeah. Tonight, actually. There’s this dinky bar on Melrose called La Catina, she’ll be there at six o’clock.”

“Do you think she suspects anything?”

“I couldn’t say.” Jane takes a sip from her glass. Need to steady her nerves. Need to calm down. Jane doesn’t get jumpy. “I watch my thoughts around her but… you know. How would I know?”

Dr. Mortum swirls the wine around her glass, thinking. “Will you be there as well?”

“I… have my own chores, I’m sorry.” This is a delicate rope you’re threading, but you need to sew these pieces back together before everything falls apart. “For what it’s worth, she’d be meeting you out of armor.”

That gets her attention, “Out of armor?”

“If she knew we were…” Jane makes a face, “planning on, uh, ditching her, I don’t think she’d be offering to trust you with who she was.” There’s a twinge of guilt for lying that blatantly. It’s for the greater good though. Right?

“Truthfully, Adrestia hasn’t been a terrible employer. Always paid on time, resourceful in finding rare materials.” Is Jane holding her breath, or is that you? “But she is dangerous. Liable to end poorly if my experience is any indicator. And then there’s the matter of your mandatory employment by her.”

“Th–that’s true.”

“Mon amie, how did you come to work for Adrestia, anyway?”

“W–what?” Jane gives an uncomfortable laugh and fiddles with the glass in her hands. “I mean, you know… girl on her own, looking to get a leg up in the world…”

Dr. Mortum downs the rest of her own glass in one go. “Do you remember when you asked me to look into that ‘Shroud’ character? Back right before the Auction?”

Something tightens in Jane’s gut. “Uh, yeah? Did you find something out? About her?”

“She’s Lord Ember’s number one enforcer in San Francisco. A tactile telepath with some kind of…” Mortum frowns to herself, “life… energy drain ability.”

“…life drain?”

“Not very scientific I know.” The woman’s frown only deepens. “Merde, what I’d give for the chance to study her.”

“Uh– Doctor?”

“Right, anyway, the people whose minds she… consumes, she can sift through their memories at will. I couldn’t say how long she retains the information but it makes for one very handy interrogation-execution package.”

Can feel the goose-bumps running up the back of Jane’s neck. That just talking about Shroud like this is producing a reaction in Jane is not helping your nerves in the slightest. “She… eats peoples minds…?”

“So it appears. What’s left is a body, weakened and comatose. Not something that would last more than a few hours without life support. That’s the basis for the rumors behind her having a ‘death touch’.”

“That’s… awful, when you put it like that. But it’s not exactly new information.”

“Have you crossed paths with her before, mon amie?”

“No. I mean – I don’t think I have?” Jane hunches over, “Seriously, doc, what’s wrong? There’s been something off with you ever since we talked on the phone last night.” It can’t be what it’s starting to sound like. It can’t be. There’s no way. There’s a mistake, somehow. A mix-up.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not sure how to approach this. Or… what to make of what I found.” Dr. Mortum eyes the wine bottle, plainly weighing the benefits of pouring herself another glass. “Maybe it would be best just to show you directly.”

“Show me? Show me what?”

Dr. Mortum puts the wine glass down, reaches a hand across the table to grasp Jane’s. “You really don’t know?”

Jane stiffens under the doctor’s touch but doesn’t pull her hand away. “I wouldn’t be asking like this if I did.”

She doesn’t let go of Jane’s hand, instead shifting her chair so they’re both on the same side of the table. With her free hand she gestures towards the monitor screen installed on the near wall. “While I was digging around, I got my hands on some footage through a contact of mine.”

“Footage?”

Jane watches as Dr. Mortum brings a holographic keyboard to life in front of her. The monitor flickers on as Mortum navigates through a series of files. “Here we are. This… might be difficult to watch.”

“Doctor,” Jane’s voice is dry, “just what on earth are you trying to… show… me…?” Voice fades to nothing as the video file expands to fill the whole screen. The video is grainy and low quality, shades of grey like a cheap security camera. But the picture jostles and moves in strange motions, hand-held? No – almost first-person esque. Mods? An eye-camera?

The center of the screen is taken up by woman on a chair. Ziplock ties bind her by the wrists and ankles to the metal frame, and the chair doesn’t shift at all as the woman struggles. Welded to the floor? The woman on the chair has a black eye, bruises on her arms, chin. Curly hair framing a too-familiar face.

There’s no way.

There’s no possible way.

You look down to your – Jane looks down to her hands, rubs her wrist with her fingers. No bruises, no marks. Not – not anymore. This is Jane. this is Jane’s body. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to Jane. She’s safe. She’s nobody.

But there’s no tattoos on the woman on the screen.

The camera turns away and Shroud is stepping into the room. Too-fancy dress, veiled face, and long gloves. The camera steps back getting a wider view of the whole scene as Shroud steps around the woman in the chair. “Be reasonable Ace, all we want to know is how you did it.” The voice, tinny through the speakers, is still enough to set Jane on edge. Grinding her teeth, nails digging into her arms.

“Did what?” Jane’s voice. Fuck. Shit. Piss. “I don’t understand why I’m here.”

Shroud’s voice is slow, faux patience. “Two million and thirty three thousand. That’s how much you’ve lost Lord Ember.” The skeletal woman stops in front of – Jane? Ace? The woman tied to the chair. One hand tugging back against the fabric of her gloves.

“I’ve been playing fair. I’m just lucky.” Picture of hurt innocence. Literal.

“Hmm… Luck.” Shroud reaches out a hand, and someone off screen passes off a gun. A revolver. Even with the poor visual fidelity it looks like an antique. “Let’s see just how lucky you are.”

Without thinking about it, Jane finds herself reach out for Dr. Mortum’s arm, pulling the woman closer. Mortum shifts position to get closer, puts her arm around Jane instead, holding her tight.

There’s no one for the woman in the chair. Shroud, calm and silent as death itself loads a bullet into the revolver. As she points the gun at the woman’s leg, Jane flinches, buries her face in Mortum’s side. But there’s no ‘bang,’ no screams.

Another bullet loaded. Shroud humming to herself. Points at the woman’s shoulder. Jane cries out, hides her face against Dr. Mortum again. The woman on the screen remains stoic the whole time. No ‘bang’ this time either.

Third bullet. Pointed at the forehead. The chamber spins and now on the woman on the screen – Ace – flinches the color draining out of her face. Did Ace on the screen cry out that time or was that Jane again?

Shroud chuckles as she waves the gun in Ace’s face. “Don’t be a baby. It’s just rubber bullets, to see how long your luck lasts. It won’t kill you.”

Ace shrinks back against the chair. Jane’s own breathing is becoming increasingly harder, the body slipping out of your control again – like before. “You will, though.” Ace says.

“Hm?” Shroud leans back, a hand on her hip. She holds the gun out and again, someone off screen takes it from her. Both hands free now, she starts tugging at one of her gloves. “Not if you cooperate with me.”

“Liar.” Ace strains against her bonds again. It’s hard to breath, hard to watch. But something won’t let you look away either. “You’ll kill me, and that will be the end of you.”

“Threats? Really now? In your position?” Shroud’s glove is off now, and the camera person takes another step back. “I’ve looked into you, Ace. Bitter, lonely soul. No close family, no close friends. Nobody that will miss you.” Shroud pulls back her veil. Skin deathly pale and sunken, sallow features. Something like a walking corpse with a death’s head grin. “Nobody will avenge you.”

“Still not lying.” An impossible level of conviction in those words. Ace’s wrists are bleeding now, plastic cutting into skin. But there’s no getting away. No escaping. “Do your worst sucker, but that will be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“I’ve heard it all before.” Shroud says, bored, as she flexes her hand now. Too thin, too bony. “Now… let’s see what you’ve been hiding from me.” Her hand grasps Ace’s face and Ace screams, and you can’t, can’t keep watching. Jane hides her face against Mortum’s side. Don’t look until the screaming stops.

Ace sits in the chair, breathing but limp. Sunken eyes, sallow cheeks, looking awfully like she did when you found Jane in the hospital. Shroud, in contrast looks radically different. Less a corpse and more a woman carved from marble. A wide grin across her face, making a show of licking her lips. “Boosts were always my favorite.”

“What did you learn?” The voice comes from off camera.

“Lone operator.” Shroud puts a finger to her head, eyes closed in a too familiar motion. Her sleeve falls back against gravity, not enough to reveal anything definitive but are those shapes hints of tattoos? Geometric. Someone else far too familiar. “Could see the numbers before the ball landed. Same with the cards.” Shroud shrugs, then smirks towards the camera. “Cute trick. Tell him that he doesn’t have to worry, she’s not one of Hollow Ground’s crew. Just someone who miscalculated. Badly.”

And it’s too much. Jane staggers to her feet. “I–I–I– I have to– I need a walk. I need to get a hold of myself. I need–”

The off-screen voice snickers. “Guess her luck finally ran out. What should we do with the body?”

Shroud flexes her exposed hand, slowly tugging her glove back on. “Sell her for parts, let her recoup some of the cost that way.”

Nausea riles up and Jane collapses to the floor, hands on the tiles, retches, then vomits. Did you just watch yourself– watch Jane, die?

“Mon amie?” Dr. Mortum hovers by your side, hands outstretched but not quite touching.

“I’m f–f–f–fine.” You insist. Tears falling from your eyes into the pool of ejected wine and bile on the floor, more running out your nose. Can feel your body shaking, arms struggling to hold yourself off the floor.

“Come on, mon amie, let me help you up.” There’s a brief pause and then arms reach around your shoulders, pulling you back to your feet, holding you steady even as you continue to shake. “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

“S–s–sorry. I–I’m sorry.”

Mortum leads you out into the adjoining bathroom, “I’ll clean it up. You just take a moment, okay?” A light touch to your back makes you jump, and Mortum hesitates, clearly at a loss for what to do.

So are you.

Stare at your face in the mirror. Hair a mess, eyes red, a mess. Everything’s a mess. This face that’s yours but not yours, Jane’s face. Or Ace’s face? Hold yourself up with your hands bracing against the bathroom sink.

What do you do?

Clean up. Clean yourself up. Clean Jane up. Get it together. Get a hold on yourself. Jane sucks in air until her lungs hurt, then slowly lets it all out. Does it again. Third time. Mortum leaves to clean the mess on the floor.

Never felt more like a puppeteer as you do now, putting Jane through the motions. Blow the nose, water on the face. Wash off the tears, snot, vomit, ruined make-up. Hyper-aware of the differences between your face and hers. Smaller nose, rounder face, no freckles, softer eyes. Just fooling yourself this whole time – some sort of sick fantasy on your part. Letting yourself getting lured in by a shared hair and eye color, a similar inability to tan.

Sometimes, in these more emotional moments it gets difficult to remember Jane is an act you’re playing, a mask you’re wearing. Not that you’ve ever been good at separating your feelings. The fiasco with Julia can attest to that.

Can’t say you were prepared for ‘interrogation by a Farm-trained telepath’ to be another point of blurred boundaries between the two of you. Grab a wash cloth off the hook, take a deep breath then bury your face in the fabric to muffle your scream. When Jane runs out of breath, she finishes drying off her face, adjusts her dress before walking back into the lab.

Mortum gives Jane a sheepish wave as she spots her, “Do you need a drink?”

“I’m going to need something harder than wine this time.” Jane replies, rubbing her hands over her face.

“I was thinking similarly.” She’s already back by the kitchenette. Jane slumps into the nearest chair, listening to the sound of glasses being poured. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I should have given more warning. I just…”

“I don’t think there’s a warning adequate enough for something like that.” Jane suppresses a shudder, only looking up to take the –very large– glass of whiskey offered to her. “So that was really her… death-touch deal?”

Mortum nods, nursing her own large glass. “Yes. It was passed along to me as an example of Shroud in action. But I wouldn’t have bothered putting you through that except for–”

Jane cuts her off, “who the the victim was.”

“Mm.” Dr. Mortum watches Jane carefully over the rim of her glasses.

“How old is the video?”

Don’t say three years, don’t say three years, don’t say three years.

“About three years.” Mortum answers.

“Fuck.”

“Mon amie?”

“Goddamnit.” Jane laughs, high-pitched and frantic. “So then that person on the video, Ace, that was…”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well.” Jane takes a long drink, gasping for air when she puts the glass down on the table. “I get why you wanted to just show me the video.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

That gets another, more bitter laugh. “We kind of have to, don’t we?”

“Mon amie…” Dr. Mortum’s voice is low, face furrowed in worry. “How far back can you remember?”

“I…” Jane hesitates, then clenches her fists. “About three years. Woke up in the hospital. Everything hurt. My boss got me out.” What would have happened if you had waited to come back the next day? Or snuck in a day earlier? It had been… sheer luck you had been able to steal away Jane’s body when you had.

Had it been luck?

Jane exhales, a long shaking breath. “I don’t remember anything before that.”

“Saving someone’s life is certainly one way to ensure loyalty.” Dr. Mortum’s voice is soft, low. When did her hand find Jane’s? How long has she been holding it?

“I don’t– I’m not sure that she did.”

“Did what?”

“Save my life.”

“You’ll be free of her one day.” She squeezes Jane’s hand.

Jane only flinches, pulls her hand back. “That’s– that’s not what I mean. I… oh god. I don’t know how to say this.” Never mind how to say it. What to say is the more pressing issue.

“I’m not sure I’m following, mon amie.”

“Of course not.” Jane snaps back. “You don’t exactly have the full picture – I mean, neither do I but I’ve got more of the – the goddamn puzzle pieces, fuck.” Another long drink ending in a gasp for breath. Try not to think too much about worried concern on Mortum’s face. This is stupid. What are you doing. Shut up Ariadne.

Dr. Mortum says nothing, confound her. No well-meaning advice, no comforting words. Just a worried look.

“Look I – I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

“Well, that’s hardly a surprise, considering our respective businesses.”

“Just… let me finish. I don’t – I don’t really know how to sell this. You aren’t going to believe me.” Jane’s smile is brittle, hands hugging her sides.

Mortum shakes her head, “Try me.”

“Okay. Well.” Jane fiddles with the hem of her dress, fingers worrying the fringe. “I’ve told you I can’t just… quit my job with Adrestia.”

She nods.

“And I knew Adrestia…. had saved my life, I just… had no idea to what extent.” Jane pauses, chewing furiously at the inside of her cheek. “I don’t think she knew either. But. Okay. So. Three years ago, Adrestia springs me out of the hospital…. who knows, maybe days, maybe hours, before I was due to get carved up for organ replacements. Following me?”

“I’m following.”

“And– and I was weak. I was real weak. It took me months just to get well enough to get out of bed again, to walk, a whole year before I could even begin to start doing the simplest jobs for her. But– but there’s still…”

“The question of how you survived Shroud at all.” Mortum finishes and Jane nods.

“Except, that’s the thing. I didn’t. I didn’t survive. I’m not some special exception.”

Mortum’s hand finds Jane’s again, a light touch, a chance to pull back. When Jane doesn’t, she holds tighter.

“My… boss is a telepath, right? A very powerful one.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well… She can… Adrestia can possess people.”

That gets a quizzical look, Mortum’s eyebrows furrowing together. “Possess people?” She echoes back.

“It’s– It’s the next step up, I guess, from just tweaking someone’s thoughts.” Jane winces as Mortum’s grip on her hand tightens. “Only… most people, you know, there’s someone already home. It makes possession difficult. And the longer you do it, the harder it gets.” Jane’s voice drops, “And it’s… it’s horrific for the victim. Watching their body move without their say so. Trapped in your own mind.”

“Jane…” Mortum’s voice is barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

Jane tenses up, eyes wet as she laughs. “You really shouldn’t be. Shroud… evicted the previous tenant, and I? I moved in. Made myself at home.”

“What? Mon amie, I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to get doc?” More nervous laughter. “I’m the man behind the curtain. I am my boss.”

Mortum lets go of Jane’s hand, the absence hurts worse the pressure she’d been applying before. “I don’t understand. You’re not telepathically sensitive.”

“Jane isn’t my body. Adrestia is. Possessing her. Me? I’m… not so sure anymore.”

“What? Use your words.”

“Shroud.” You spit the name out, feeling the bile in the back of your throat. “Killed Ace. We both saw it,” Jane gestures at the monitor. “And then, I came along. I needed… I needed a face. I couldn’t risk being seen. Being recognized. And– and here w–w–was this body. This empty body, just waiting.”

“A puppet.”

“Yes. I stole her. Me?” You stare down at Jane’s hands. “I didn’t even know who she was.”

Dr. Mortum’s face has gone cold. A careful blank mask. Unreadable as she stares you down. “So.” Her voice is even, controlled. “Who am I talking to right now?”

“I’m– I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for– for lying to you this whole time.”

“But… why would you do that?” Her voice strains, cracks against the pressure to keep an even tone.

Jane looks down, stares at the floor, hands helpless in her lap. “This… whatever this is, wasn’t supposed to happen. I just needed someone to build my armor. You weren’t supposed to be…” Jane makes a face and you wonder if she looks as helpless as you feel right now. “…nice.”

“Nice? Nice?”

“I liked you, okay?” You response comes back quick, defensive. “You could be funny. And you’re smart, didn’t pry much but you also cared. I wasn’t ready for that. I had been… alone. For so long. And I didn’t want to let it go. I was afraid to let it go. Even though I knew I should have.” Jane’s voice drops, “I should have told you months ago. But I… I liked how I was around you. I was afraid of how things would change.”

Mortum pushes up her glasses to rub at her eyes. “And that’s different from how you normally are, I take it?”

“It… it reminded me of how I could be, before I died.”

“Before you… died?”

“I mean, before Adrestia died, not Jane. Ugh, different disaster. Even longer back.”

“I’m afraid I’ve lost the plot on this one.” It almost sounds like a joke, but Mortum doesn’t smile.

“At heart… I’m kind of a coward.”

“Lying, hiding behind other people’s bodies… I can’t say I’m inclined to disagree right now.” Mortum pushes her glasses back up her nose, eyes boring holes through you behind orange-tinted lenses. “I can’t say I appreciate being made fun of much, either.”

That one hurts. “It wasn’t like that!” You clench your fists, can feel the tension in Jane’s shoulders. “I meant everything I said.”

“Even about your boss?”

“Is it really a surprise that I don’t like myself?”

Mortum doesn’t respond, beyond a “Hmm.”

“And then you said you were going to stop working for Adrestia. That you wanted me to quit with you. And I– I tried to tell you. I couldn’t. I literally couldn’t quit. I literally can’t stop being Adrestia. No matter how much I want to. So… when you said you had a plan, in case she – In case I did something against you and me – Jane, I needed to know what it was to-to-to defend myself.”

“Hence stealing my teleportation gun from me.”

“What? No!” You wave your hands, desperate for her to believe you. “That was an accident. I w–w–was serious about returning it. I– I wanted to try and fix things but I… I don’t know how.”

“Sometimes, Jane, the only way to fix an experiment is to trash the whole thing and try something else.”

“I…” Your voice falters. “I don’t know how to interpret that.”

The silence that stretches out between the two of you is physically painful. Finally, Dr. Mortum breaks the tension, rapping her fingers on the worktable. “So.”

“I’m sorry.” “Why not just approach me as yourself? Why this farce?”

“I couldn’t!” You hold your head in your hands, pulling at your hair. “Too many people know who I was before. I couldn’t be sure I could trust you. That I could trust anyone. And by the time I thought I could…”

“I had already decided that I couldn’t trust Adrestia.”

“Yeah.” You shift in your seat. “I just… you let me feel real, at least for a little while. That I could have friends.”

“Friends.” Her voice is flat.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Your smile fades, “Were friends, I guess. Even if you don’t believe anything else I’ve said, you have to believe me on that. Please. I just… I know it’s selfish but I just wanted to be happy for once.”

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” There’s a desperate edge in Mortum’s voice now. You can’t bring yourself to lift Jane’s head to see the other woman’s face.

Jane shrinks back in her seat. It’s weird. You keep expecting your usual panic symptoms whenever things start to skirt too close to the truth. “I don’t know what else I can say… when we first met, I didn’t even think of myself as human, never mind a woman.”

“Human? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“Fuck, I– I guess I better.”

“Stalling.”

“This isn’t easy, shit!” Jane chews her cheek, hugging her arms tight against herself. “Okay… um…” You glance at the image on the monitor, still frozen. “Scroll back, like thirty seconds on the video?”

“Still stalling.”

Jane groans, a pleading look on her face. “Please, just… humor me on this, okay? I’m going somewhere with this.”

Dr. Mortum sighs. With a gesture the keyboard reappears beneath her hand and the video snaps back, frame by frame.

“There!”

Mortum stops the rewind. “Alright, what am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Look at Shroud’s sleeve. Where it falls back, and right before the skinsuit starts on her arm. Do you see anything?”

You don’t look at the screen, instead watching Dr. Mortum’s face as she scrutinizes the grainy image. “I don’t…”

“Those designs, just poking out the top there?”

“Okay…”

“Re-gene tattoos.”

Sharp in-take of breath. “Truly?”

“I’d recognize them anywhere.”

“I see them now…” A tight frown settles onto the doctor’s face. “Do you think Lord Ember is aware he has a regene in his employ? An escapee or…?” She stops, shakes her head. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m the s–s–same as– the same as Shroud.” Jane clenches her hands. “The– the other me, I mean.”

“…A re-gene?” What does that look on Mortum’s face mean?

Jane nods, then shakes her head. “Do you know what a cuckoo is?”

She narrows her eyes at Jane. “I… might be aware that they exist.” If anyone knew what a cuckoo was, trust it to be Dr. Mortum. Yet another reason you couldn’t have trusted her with the truth at first.

Jane spreads her arms wide, you choke back a sob. “Well, you’re– you’re looking at one right now. I couldn’t– I couldn’t let them find me. My other body is… I mean, my real body is just…”

“Mon dieu, how long have you been on the run?”

“A few years… before, uh…” You swallow back the bile in your throat. Might as well go all in. If she’s going to fire a gun at you, better make sure it’s a headshot. “Before Sidestep.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Dr. Mortum groans, rubbing her nose. “No. Of course. All the pieces fall into place. Merde!”

“I g–g–got caught once, already. I can’t go back. Not again. So… stay out of sight. Use a go-between.”

“I understand that, mon amie, but I wish you would have trusted me.” Dr. Mortum groans. “For both our sakes.”

“I know.” You run your hands over your face, avoiding the doctor’s gaze. “Look… if you– if you want revenge, I’d rather you just… shoot me then tip them off. I’ll die before I go back.”

“Did you seriously think I could ever hurt…” The doctor hesitates, “her?”

“Yes.” You whisper, unable to raise you voice any louder. “I’m… afraid. Always. All the time. But– but I’m telling you now. You deserve the truth.”

“Even if it ends up killing you?”

“I wouldn’t argue that I don’t deserve it.”

“Okay…” Dr. Mortum scrunches her face up. Deep in thought. “You were planning to meet me tonight. In your own body.”

“That’s right.”

“Were you planning to tell me then?”

“If I didn’t chicken out again. Neutral ground. It was– It was supposed to be safer.”

“Safer. For you maybe.” The disdain is plain in her voice. “This is a lot to process.”

“I know.”

“I need–” The doctor’s voice cracks as she struggles to keep her composure. Furious at you, to be sure. Can’t blame her. “I need some time. Mon dieu, I need some fucking time.”

“I… understand.”

“I will keep your secret. And I will do you the favor of pretending you don’t know how to get into my lab.” Dr. Mortum raises a pointed finger at you. “But I need some time. To… think things over. To figure out how I feel about this whole… disaster.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you sorry for lying to me or sorry you got caught?”

Jane pulls back, frowning. “I didn’t– I didn’t have to tell you any of this. I chose to…”

“Shoot yourself in the face.”

“I guess.”

“Right. I’m trying to keep that in mind.” Mortum gets up, turns her back on you. “Just. Go. Get out of here. I’ll contact you when I’m ready to talk.

“Do you know whe–”

“I don’t know, Adrestia! It could be a week, it could be years! It could be never! Let me think!”

“Okay.” Jane pulls herself to her feet. You feel hollow, empty. “You… know how to reach me.”

“Just go.”

“I’m sorry.”

You manage to hold yourself together long enough to get Jane back home. Don’t even bother undressing before collapsing face first into the bed. The best you can hope for is that Dr. Mortum doesn’t sell you out. But there’s no recovering that relationship. Christ. If this is how it goes with Mortum, how will Julia take the truth?

Julia deserves to know.

Her knowing will kill you.

You roll over onto your back, close your eyes as you slowly untether yourself from Jane’s body.

Would dying really be so bad? Compared to this?

#fallen hero #fallen hero fanfic #fanfiction #fhr/Ariadne #mc #dr. mortum #shroud #the puppet

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