#This team is very hard to have projects approved. I was going in expecting a hard no
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
acutecoral ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Transcript for Quackity's recent stream
twitch
[Quackity start talking around 1:03 in, but before he speaks you can hear him breathe and sniffle a little]
Quackity: Hello everyone, uh…uh, I'm just waiting for enough people to get here. This is a very important stream. So I'm just going to wait a little bit.
Quackity: Um…[sharp intake of breath] Hello! I hope everyone is having a good night. I'm doing an urgent stream. Only to keep everyone updated on everything that's happening.
Quackity: I wanna apologise for this scuffed stream. I'm not on any of my set-ups right now, I wasn't expecting to stream right now so I don't even have a camera. But I wanna to let everyone know, that I've been out and I'm catching up on a lot of matters right now…
Quackity: Including a statement, that was just now, made without my approval.
Quackity: I've been notified, about an ongoing situation regarding Quackity Studios and I want to address it. Please bear with me as I'm barely catching up on a lot of these matters.
[He sniffles again]
Quackity: One gathering is that volunteers for Quackity Studios: are not being paid and are being given too many hours of activities.
Quackity: I wanna let everyone know that I was aware of a voluntary position, and I was under the assumption that there was a process volunteers would go through, to integrate themselves to the team with a fully paying job. What I was not aware of, is to what extent and conditions were being required from the volunteers.
Quackity: And I wanna thank everyone who brought this to my attention, because it is very clear to me that I need a much deeper involvement in the administrative part of my team. Something I have not been very involved with recently.
Quackity: I'm gonna perform a deep investigation, personally, on this matter as to see exactly what's happening. But one thing is very clear to me.
Quackity: There are going to be very drastic changes in QSMP moving forward. From the administrative perspective, and from the creative perspective as well.
Quackity: My responsibility relies on knowing what is happening in the project I am running. And for not being more involved? I want to deeply apologise. This should have never happened, and I am extremely disappointed.
Quackity: From here on out, I wanna make one thing clear: Everybody involved in Quackity Studios will be paid. And if at any point my own funds are not sufficient enough to pay workers or maintain the project? Then the QSMP cannot continue and it will close down. That's how committed I am to this project.
Quackity: So I wanted to make that extremely, extremely clear as to where I stand on this.
[Quackity in the next line sounds choked up]
Quackity: And this…n-next topic is very difficult for me to process, and it's an extremely sensitive thing, and I was waiting for the correct time for me but…that can wait, no longer. And I need to let everyone know that Wilbur is no longer a part of the QSMP.
Quackity: Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their patience. This…year…has been very turbulent…for me. And I'm going to be very open; it's been one of the saddest years of my life.
Quackity: I'm trying to move forward and give everyone the best version of myself, and I'm very, very sorry if I've disappointed you.
Quackity: But…nonetheless, I gotta keep moving forward and I'm gonna keep working hard and I'm going to do what's right. And I wanna make this very clear.
Quackity: So thank you everyone. And um, yeah, I hope everyone has a good night. Thank you.
1K notes ¡ View notes
shantalanadevil ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Nicholas Galitzine and his team have definitely decided that going mainstream is the goal and anything that they control will not "remind" people of his most famous queer role. Least he loses the newly acquired wine mom demographic and potentially the possible dude-bro one (that is expected with the new role that was just announced.
For more in- depth thoughts, you can read the below, which goes over why and how you can still enjoy the sequel (I plan to do that), even if you don't like the current events.
At least now people can't hide behind the "social media'' clause because of another production when there were questions why he isn't announcing the sequel on his social media. Even if casting announcements on an actor's own socials are never part of what is considered promotion for a project (trade announcements are, but that is done by the studio), actors WANT to do them as it's announcing they are booked and busy, thus it is part of their professional branding.
Thus when they don't do it, people who are familiar with the industry take notes. 
Does it mean most people online will do a nuanced discussion on why the only white, straight and male actor from the main cast of a queer com-rom has decided not to put the trade announced sequel anywhere on his socials?
No, people will either do the simplifications of "He loves RWRB, why does it matter if he hasn't posted on Instagram on it" (the majority) or "He is homophobic and needs to be recast" (a very small minority) camps. 
The first camp loves the movie and has an emotional attachment to the character, which quite often transfers to actors. But in their wish to spare their own feelings they will try to silence the voices of people who are right to ask the valid questions on how an actor is using his own social media to highlight the work they WANT highlighted. And how they can ignore the work they DON'T want highlighted.
This isn't speculation. This is how Hollywood works and there social media isn't used the same way normal people use it. It is a work tool. 
The second camp will boil the whole situation down to personal homophobia and call it a closed case. Which is as bad as the first camp, as this just makes the first camp and pure NG fans defensive (as NG personally hasn't shown any signs of that) and stops any possible valid discussion.
As I mentioned in a previous post shortly after the sequel was announced, his team's strategy has been obvious for months, but they really f***ed it up in May. 
They could have shared 1-2 stories about the announcement (even if grid is some standard, as shown yesterday) and they could have avoided 90% of the issue by doing the bare minimum. They *decided* to not even do that. Which spells things even more clear out. 
Wine moms and dude-bros are more valuable than queer people. And most likely in terms of possible money they are not wrong. Those demographics aren't also known for being very rainbow friendly. Why do you think it is so hard for out actors to get roles in movies targeted at that demographic? 
So NG and his team did the simplest of maths equation and came up with = don't highlight anything RWRB related on your socials so as not to scare out those two pools. The M&G finale story isn’t queer focused so that was approved (and further showed there is no social media clause for other projects, as that falls under the umbrella of promotion). 
This is the same thought process that keeps *actual* queer actors in the closet. So I'm not surprised that the team of a straight actor is operating under the same assumption in terms of personal branding. 
Does this excuse the handling of RWRB? No, and thus I don't care much about his other projects. Which I have the right to do.
Does it lower my excitement for the sequel? No, as he is a good actor and I care about Henry, not about NG (because of his own actions). I care way more about the RWRB story than I do for an actor who is just doing his job. 
For the people that feel hurt by his actions and this is making it difficult to be excited for the sequel, I am truly sorry and I hope by the time when the sequel comes out and the contractual part of the promotion is here you will be able to find a way to enjoy the project itself. 
For the people that claim to love RWRB and are dismissing any valid criticism towards how NG is using his work tools to treat a project you claim to love, you sound a little like the people in a relationship who claim you are ok with being the secret partner. Some really are. But most? Just use it as an excuse not to have to look the truth in the eyes, as that will hurt them.
For the people who love NG and just look at RWRB as one of his jobs, you actually have no staks in this specific discussion, you are winning. Unless you are one of the few morons who go out of their way to shit on RWRB and its fans and are purposely going into those spaces to be nasty. Then you can jump off a high place. Or the ones who take any, even valid, criticism of their *fave* as a personal attack. You can touch some grass.
Just needed to vent a little bit as I was getting fed up with people on Twitter from the first camp moaning how social media doesn’t matter and all should just look at the good stuff. 
Lastly, for anybody asking, but why did he sign on for the sequel if he and his team think like this? Because most if not all studio films have a possible sequel clause in the contract for any film and as long as the studio wants to do so and fulfils some mentioned in the contract obligation (could be money, could be script), they have a pretty easy way of getting actors back.  
38 notes ¡ View notes
ilovemarvelcu3000 ¡ 2 years ago
Text
My Secret Invasion review.
Now that I have had time to clear my head and really analyze this show from a relatively unbias standpoint (Just look at my profiles Im a marvel D-rider so dont expect me to be 100% unbias) I would like to address a few things. This show definitely has its ups and downs especially with that finale, but I would say this was a solid 6.5/10 it's not as horrible as people are making it out to be, but it also was not amazing. It's a pretty decent show. Most of the complaints I saw were about
Then there's the MoM club (misogynists of marvel) who just complain about giah being the most powerful in the mcu now which is 1. Not true and 2. I know that most of the haters who watched this show have a relatively low attention span but did yall forget that Graviks plan was to make super skrulls anyway? Like out of a whole civilization of skrulls did you all just expect all of them to be dudes? Please put your shrimp dicks away and complain about something else without sounding stupid.
I'm gonna lightly touch on this then I'm gonna go to something else cause I'm about to get some people mad that I haven't already. The same people who are complaining about Rhodey being a skrull since Civil War are the same ones who complained about the shows playing it too safe and that there was no stakes. Stop crying now cause this is what you wanted. While I am on the topic of Rhodey, there's people saying that there was no way possible that Rhodey was a skrull before endgame cause its hard to fake a leg injury........ did we not just watch Giah pretend like she had radiation poisoning as Fury? Determination and Desperation can make you do a lot of crazy shit.
Also Secret Invasion was not the end it is the beginning, it sets up Armor wars, The marvels, and something else that I can't remember right now. So everybody chill it gonna hopefully get better especially with the firing of Victoria Alonso [if you haven't been paying attention or you just have a life unlike me], it was basically said that she created a very hostile work environment for mostly everyone and that she was also very demanding of the vfx team and she was the one to approve all of marvels vfx so blame her for the train wreck that has been the cgi the last 10 projects.
This was less of a Review and more of a Rant of all the bs reasons to be hating on this show. If you have any comments, questions or concerns feel free to ask. I'm doing a pt.2 to this.
5 notes ¡ View notes
northwest-cryptid ¡ 6 months ago
Text
I'm fascinated in the web and how people use it, because it's so incredibly different for different people. I've recently begun mingling with more of the indie web on a level I wasn't previously, and it makes me have a really genuinely deep appreciation for it.
This is going to be a lengthy post, so consider this a fair warning for an essay length discussion about the web, virtual worlds, and what we as people expect of it. I want to talk about the underground web, not the dark web, not the "obscure web" but the indie web that's happening right under your nose without anyone noticing.
Because I've had such a genuinely crazy experience with the indie web and the underground culture over the last couple of months in a way I didn't expect to; and I feel like it's worth sharing.
To kick things off, let's talk about the Indie Web a little bit. I've spent the last couple of years designing my own website, being part of a group project for a website I run with 3 other people; and I've been part of multiple really interesting forums.
Something I've learned about the underground indie web is that a lot of it is connected through webrings. It's a lot easier than you'd think to just follow webring chains to get from one site to another. It's hard to find a forum via google; it's easier to find a forum through an indie site that leads to a webring that's for a community who's from a website that hosts a forum. This takes a certain level of willingness to surf the web in a way I don't think a lot of people are really used to these days.
I think the big thing is that it almost feels intentional on both accounts. On one hand you have companies and centralized web who want to keep traffic on them. They don't want you to know about alternatives and make sure you can't easily access them. On the other hand you have underground indie websites who want to keep their culture alive and that doesn't work when you let in any ol' riff raff who can stumble upon you via google. When you grow exclusively through word of mouth and via people finding you through knowing how to, you keep the culture a lot easier.
I've even joined a few forums who needed me to submit applications for an account that had to be manually approved. I had to write in who I was, why I wanted to be a member of the forum, etc. At first this sort of felt gatekeepy, and I didn't quite care for it, and then I realized how quickly letting a single "troll" or otherwise ill-willed individual into your site could crumble things.
I was a part of a forum which isn't around anymore, it lasted about 7 months, and was shut down after a certain group of individuals found it. Because there's no real way to stop an onslaught of hate when you're a small team of passionate people running an indie forum. You either have to deal with it somehow, and dedicate a lot more time to your hobby; or give up.
However I'm getting very ahead of myself. Let me rewind a bit and talk more on a focused topic. That being the sort of "Internet Iceberg"
On the surface level you have the centralized web, easy access; low effort, low pay off.
These are your Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter/X, Bluesky, Mastodon, SpaceHey, etc. They offer you an account on their website with limited customization and the need to pay for additional features. Likewise they ultimately can control what you can or cannot say. Depending on what I put in the body of this post it could be marked as sensitive, removed outright; or limited to specific audiences such as having a mature label thrown on it. There's nothing I can really do about that outside of file a complaint and hope they see my side of things. This is because I merely have an account on their website.
The main shtick of these sites is that idea of easy access, how do you make a Tumblr account? Well you just need an email; you can get that from another centralized website like google, yahoo, etc. They make it easy to get an account, customize a profile with a little title and background image, pick some colors; and you're done. You even have all these fun pre-made themes. Sure you CAN do more than that, much of which costs money; and some of which requires you to know HTML. But let's be honest, you don't come here for that; if you know HTML you're not going to likely be wasting your time on a tumblr account you have to pay money to have do what you want. Not when there's better alternatives.
Beyond this you have what I call Centralized Web Hosts; these are things like SquareSpace, they advertise the same easy access and say you can make your own website without needing to do any programming. Because remember, they don't want you to learn shit. They don't want you smart, the centralized web relies on you staying dumb, obedient; and complacent within their limitations. I know I know I sound like some really annoying conspiracy theorist.
I need you to understand that these services are so popular because people don't value the freedom that comes with learning and understanding. People are much more willing to fork over money for pre-made things than learn how to make something themselves, and that's literally what centralized web has fostered as the popular culture for the internet. Because if they can keep you in that mindset they can farm you for money. They drip feed you little bits of personality, have a new badge you can show off, add this fancy boarder to your profile picture; animate your title, whatever. These features allow you to share a little bit of your personality and they're being monetized because these companies know they can get away with it.
Centralized Web Hosts are still web hosts, but they're still operating on a predatory market that takes advantage of your every whim and want.
This is where the iceberg is finally getting under water; we're reaching third spaces.
To put it simply a Third Space is a space outside of the Centralized Web, and outside of the real world. This is to say Discord, VRChat, Second Life, Skype, whatever app you'd use to socialize outside of the web but not off the net.
Now a lot of these are still centralized, in fact everything above that I just mentioned would count as such. Most Third Spaces have this issue, I can't customize my discord as I see fit because that requires Nitro; I can't access all the features I should be able to on VRChat without VRChat+. Again these companies are monetizing your right to self expression, because they know they can.
A good solution to this is to turn to the Indie Web for Third Spaces; for example forums.
Indie web forums function as a sort of third space, and are fantastic if you can find a good one that's tailored towards what you're looking for. The pro and the con here is that this is the layer of the iceberg where we've entered the more obscure aspect of things; meaning that we will witness a lot more genuine anarchy here and not everyone is going to be so okay with that.
What I mean is that for every forum you run into that's accepting of left leaning ideals, you'll run into one that's accepting and tailored towards right wing ideals too. There's no centralized internet culture here, people are likely to have entire websites where the culture is so foreign to you that you have no idea which political spectrum we're even using anymore. You'll have people using slurs and people who those slurs are being used against simply not minding because that's just the culture there.
It's important to know at this point you're on your own to curate your experience. Find people you agree with, ignore the sites you don't. You can't change people's minds here, you can't single handedly enter a place and change it's culture, do not try. That's not how this level of the internet works.
Most of these places are going to exist across various Website Hosting Services like Neocities or Nekoweb. This is the point where if you have an understanding of HTML and the patience to code it yourself, you can make something truly yours.
Website Hosting Services can range in quality, but the sort of thing you're looking for is a free service that gives you the ability to make a website from scratch with no hand-holding from the host. The host service is a host service, they shouldn't be looking over your shoulder to make sure you're posting things in line with their personal views.
So let's say you've found a website, forum, or webring you do align with and enjoy the company of; this is where things can go really deep into the underground web.
This takes us to one of the deeper levels of the iceberge, webrings. Typically it's fairly difficult to just search these up on google; you either need to find the community hub website or a member of the webring, it's not hard to find webrings; it's hard to search them up on google. There's a difference there.
Webrings are where you start going deep, you're tunneling directly between multiple websites who are all connected via a sort of umbrella group or interest. Depending on the webring you find these can take you far.
I found one such webring for VRChat a couple months ago and it changed the way I used VRChat significantly. So let me pivot away from talking about this internet iceberg now that you understand just how deep into the underground we are.
See I found a webring that did regular meet ups in VRChat, a lot of these people essentially living a second life on the web. Not roleplaying mind you, but simply existing on the net rather than leaving the house and such, for various reasons. These people came to virtual worlds to socialize and befriend one another, and valued the internet as a place of creation rather than commercial exploitation.
I started attending some meet ups at first assuming this was likely some kind of underground community for a specific thing; but it turns out these people just wanted a place to hang out free from screaming 12 year olds or rowdy pervs.
Now I think it's important to bring up that while I love a good game of D&D and I'm happy to get into character and all that. I don't enjoy RP outside of that, it's just not for me. So you can imagine the first time I went to a meet up at a virtual bar and the guy behind the counter asked me what he could get me; I kinda told him "oh don't worry about that, I don't really roleplay or whatever." Which got a laugh out of him before he explained that it's not about roleplay it's about immersion. He asked me if I had a drink with me in real life, I told him I had a coffee yea. He asked me to take a drink; I did and he said "see I couldn't see that, it didn't register to me virtually that you're sitting here having a drink with me. To me you're just kinda idle, sitting there maybe in a menu maybe looking off into space." He handed me a virtual coffee and told me to line it up with my actual drink, and to try again, I did and it felt really silly because it still felt like a sort of aspect of RP. However I couldn't argue with his point, now he understood where my attention was, what I was doing physically; the virtual element of it melted away and while I may look like an anime character sitting on a stool in virtual reality; he knows there's a real person behind that headset who's paying attention to him and talking to him.
This mentality bleeds into basically everything. We'd sit around, shoot the shit; play darts, talk about life. There's about 20 or so people I've met through those meet ups. It's nice to get to socialize and talk about life, the web, and just kind of be around people.
These last couple of months my wife has been out of town for a family emergency and I've been fairly lonely since I'm too disabled to really leave the house. This webring group however has been a sort of human contact for me, and that's been really nice. Now it's gotten to the point where I show up and I have actual genuine friends from around the world who are happy to see me, talk to me about website design and tech; and are generally willing to keep me company. It's also admittedly kind of cool to have a virtual place like that. While I may have originally found certain aspects of it silly, now it's become something that I understand the reason for to the point where I typically show up and grab a coffee first thing without thinking about it.
Some folks go there to read, some to discuss web design, some just to hang out. It's interesting because most of them keep personal websites that host their blogs where they write about their virtual lives. It's really cool to me to know that I'm on some of those websites, they've written about me; meeting me, talking to me, what I was like; the fact I'm absolute dogwater at darts or that I seem to always drink coffee, or the fact that I will never turn down a good game of pool. It's baffling to me to read blog posts on people's websites ABOUT ME. Because they're not writing about me as though I'm anyone super important, but they noticed things about me, and pay attention to me in a way that people don't tend to in real life. They see me as a member of their community and I don't have to try to be noticed by anyone.
They've been doing this for YEARS, and it's actually insane to me that stuff like this is so underground on the web that people can just go about their lives and never know about groups like these. Sure you have VR Clubs and such, but I've never seen small communities that just host random game night gatherings or meet up at a virtual pub to throw some darts and relax with friends. I've never paid much mind to all the aspects of Avatar Customization that really matter until I started to care so much about the portrayal of the virtual self.
It really clicked meeting a friend of mine for the first time because he walked in and the bartender just told him you know, take off the hat and all that; wearing hats indoors is considered rude. To which I fully expected him to just toggle it off; but he just sat down, reached up and took his hat off placing it on the table and apologizing. The fact VRChat avatars can just DO that is really cool, but that's pretty basic all things considered. It's true though that being able to see people around me drinking, smoking; etc. Knowing that they're emulating their physical actions in real life? It does help to sort of sell the immersive atmosphere without breaching into "Roleplay" and I've encountered this whole culture all because I found a webring that lead me to a website with more webrings that lead me to a website for this group. They taught me a lot about HTML that I didn't already know, and I'm happy to be a part of their webring.
Go surf the web friends, find the indie web, find the underground; and experience the bountiful cultures hiding under the surface of the internet iceberg. I cannot recommend it enough.
I have a lot more to say but I don't really have time for now unfortunately, might add more to this later.
1 note ¡ View note
blankqueerthought ¡ 1 year ago
Text
transcribed this in the case someone had any issues with understanding some words (plus since it's not subtitled)
[Transcription under the cut:]
Hello. I hope everyone is having a good night. I’m doing an urgent stream, only to keep everyone updated on everything that’s happening. I wanna apologize for the scuffed stream, I’m not in any of my setups right now, I wasn’t expecting to stream right now so I don’t even have a camera. But I wanted to let everyone know that I’ve been out and I’m catching up on a lot of matters right now.
Including a statement that was just now made without my approval. I’ve been notified about an ongoing situation regarding Quackity Studios. Please bear with me, as I’m barely catching up on a lot of these matters. What I’m gathering is that volunteers for Quackity Studios are not being paid and are being given too many hours of activities. I wanna let everyone know that I was aware of a volunteering position, and I was under the assumption that there was a process volunteers would go through to integrate themselves to the team, uh, with a fully-paying job. What I was not aware of is to what extent and conditions were being required from the volunteers. And I want to thank everyone who brought this to my attention. Because it is very clear to me that I need a much deeper involvement in the administrative part of my team. Something I have not been very involved with recently. I’m going to preform a deep investigation, personally, on this matter as I see exactly what’s happening. But one thing is very clear to me. There’re going to be very drastic changes in QSMP moving forward. From the administrative perspective and from the creative perspective as well. My responsibility relies on knowing what is happening in the project I am running. And for not being more involved, I want to deeply apologize. This should have never happened, and I am extremely disappointed.
From here on out, I wanna make one thing clear. Everybody involved in Quackity Studios will be paid. And if at any point, my own funds are not sufficient enough to pay workers or maintain the project, then the QSMP cannot continue and it will close down. That’s how committed I am to this project. So I want to make that extremely, extremely clear as to where I stand on this.
And this next topic is very difficult for me to process, and it’s an extremely sensitive thing, and I was waiting for the correct time for me, but that can wait no longer. And I need to let everyone know that Wilbur is no longer a part of the QSMP.
Lastly, I want to thank everyone for their patience. This year has been very turbulent for me, and I’m going to be very open, it’s been one of the saddest years of my life. I’m trying to move forward and give everyone the vest version of myself, and I’m very, very sorry if I’ve disappointed you. But, nonetheless, I gotta keep moving forward and I’m gonna keep working hard, and I’m going to do what’s right. And I wanted to make this very clear. So thank you everyone, and I’m, yeah, I hope everyone has a good night. Thank you.
the full quackity addressing the qsmp drama stream in all it's 3 minute and 42 second glory
82 notes ¡ View notes
elfecassepied ¡ 3 years ago
Text
WARNING: Major spoilers for The Umbrella Academy season 3
_____
"How the fuck Five became the creator of the Comission" a theory by me
For the ones who ignored the spoilers warning, it's your life mate.
So in the season 3 we learned that Five created the Comission despite visibly hating everything about them for the 30h of screen time we have.
Here is my handmade theory of wtf happened. I will use the concept of different time-line we're introduced in season 3.
.
It's begin with the first Timeline, the original, the time-line 0.
In this time-line when the Hargreeves were 13, Five timetravels in the future despite their father interdiction. Expect he did not arrive in 2019, no he timetravels in a more far away future, at least in the 2100. And what did he found there?
Everything he've always looked for.
A bright future where there had no apocalypse in 2019, with a more advanced technology, maybe more people with powers, and the more important where their father is dead and cold for a long time. It's exactly what he always hoped, a safe place where him and his siblings can run away from their father.
The only problem is that he is blocked here, even if he tries and tries he doesn't manage to go back in the time to his family. So he worked hard, studied even harder to find a way, to have a better control of his power and with the help of the most advanced sciences and technology of this period it doesn't take him 45 years.
Finally he timetravels back to his time (before Ben's death) and kidnapped his family away from Reggie, leading them to this future of their dreams.
In this future where the Hargreeves finally have the freedom and the life they wanted, Five had an idea. As a timetraveler he knows how the time is fickle and pliable, but he wanted to protect this time-line, this time where he and his siblings finally had a good life and where they're safe. With the technology of this period he created the first time machine and founded the Comission, an organization out of the time here to protect the time-line.
I read somewhere a theory (sorry I didn't found the post for put the url :/) bout how the Hargreeves seem to have better healing ability than the common. At a following of this idea I imagine they can also live longer.
So Five was the president of the Comission for years, preserving the time-line. During this time he learned more about Reginald and the Oblivion, knowing very well that this possibility of rebooting the universe was dangerous he tattooed clues of the project on himself in case (he always been so damn paranoid). He invented the Bunker of the Comission, a place where time and paradox don't exist. As he became older he founded the Administration Committee for managed the Comission and locked himself in the Bunker where he won't age anymore and so escape death until the right time.
.
Except for an unknown reason the Committee decided one day of the Apocalypse project. I can't really imagine why but for me it's clear that was something Five wouldn't have approved so he had to be out of the picture.
I first suspected that the Apocalypse was the Handler's project but it didn't make sense. Yes she manages the team and she is in charge but we saw in season two that the Handler want the power and the control. She doesn't particularly desire the apocalypse she just uses it for manipulating Five, she doesn't have a problem to seal it away in exchange of the death of the Committee. So clearly the Apocalypse wasn't her idea.
.
Time-line 1
This time-line is the one before the canon. The Comission works for the realization of the Apocalypse in 2019 and when Five timetravels he arrives in this desolate place. His siblings are dead and he stays alone (with Dolores) in this time-line for 40 years before joining the Comission.
.
Time-line 2
This one is the first season. Five reappears a week before the Apocalypse and with his siblings he tried to stop it. Also in this time-line Klaus timetravels to 1967-1968 in Vietnam and meets Dave. Viktor causes the Apocalypse and the Hargreeves timetravel together.
.
Time-line 3
The beginning of the season 2. The Hargreeves minus Five timetravel in the 1960s and cause the Apocalypse that Five can witness before timetraveling again.
.
Time-line 4
This is basically season 2 and 3. Five appears a week before the Apocalypse he saw (again). While trying to stop it the Hargreeves meet Reginald and manage to be so chaotic that he unadoptes them. Viktor accidentally gives Harlan powers, Lila has an existential crisis and the Handler dies. They stop the Apocalypse and timetravel in the 2019 of this chronology where they meet the Sparrow Academy. Sadly their presence cause a paradox and an Apocalypse (AGAIN). Five meets himself from the original time-line who indirectly warned him about Oblivion before dying, Allison loses her marbles, kills Harlan and Reggie convinces her to help him for the project Oblivion. The entire universe is destroyed and the Umbrella Hargreeves minus Luther (technically also Klaus but he resurrects after) and plus Sparrow Ben, Reggie, Lila and Sloane escape in the pocket dimension of Oblivion. Allison and Reggie reboot the universe.
.
Time-line ???
The universe has been reboot. Reggie seems to be be the lord of at least the city and has his wife (I suppose) back. Allison is reunited with her daughter Claire and her 1960s husband Ray. Luther (resurrected), Diego, Klaus, Five, Sparrow Ben, Viktor and Lila emerges from the hotel, their powers are gone and Sloane is nowhere to be found. In a last scene we see a subway in Korea where (I suppose again) a resurrected Umbrella Ben is reading.
___
There are only suppositions of the birth of the Comission and who many time-line Five created in his life. Time-line 0 is my personal explication of why Five created the Comission because we see he will do whatever it takes to get his family safe (sad it didn't work at the end). I hope we will have answers in the season 4 (I can't believe it will be the last 😭😭😭 I dreamed seven seasons at least for this series come on).
15 notes ¡ View notes
heartkyeom ¡ 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
putting my results under a read more so it doesn't clog the dash but thanks for supporting me this year y'all! <3 (also took some things out so people aren't tagged hehe)
I posted 1,093 times in 2022
That's 1,093 more posts than 2021!
418 posts created (38%)
675 posts reblogged (62%)
I tagged 965 of my posts in 2022
Only 12% of my posts had no tags
#seokmin - 119 posts
#seungcheol - 115 posts
#soonyoung - 71 posts
#mingyu - 62 posts
#wonwoo - 52 posts
#jeonghan - 41 posts
#heartkyeom - 39 posts
#vernon - 37 posts
#joshua - 36 posts
#minghao - 31 posts
Longest Tag: 103 characters
#if you think you’re above wearing a mask so svt can stay safe you have build a bear stuffing for brains
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
everyone loves you but i think you're so obnoxious au
kwon soonyoung x fem!reader
warnings: smut, angst, slight description of female anatomy; enemies to lovers
notes: AHHH this is the au I've thought about for the longest time and it's finally done!! I wanna hear all your thoughts about bratty hoshi <33 pls enjoy!
soonyoung is a famous soloist who is beloved by the korean public and most of his staff too... except the stylists
he’s run off 12 different stylists at this point and it frustrates his team so much
why is it the stylists and no one else??? no one knew but you got hired as a last resort, as you were known for working with notoriously difficult celebrities
those celebrities were famous but soonyoung is FAMOUS famous, definitely the most notable celebrity you’ve worked with but it didn’t intimidate you
you were used to bratty celebs and them acting out, so it couldn’t be that bad? right?
wrong. he made you do the most tedious shit like making you go through 100 fabric swatches for him to possibly approve for his tour costumes only for him to like none of them, creating a shit ton of revisions for his costumes only for him to prefer an older version of it
just subtle ways to keep you working on meaningless shit
he fought you on so many small things and for what reason? none except to make you upset and get under your skin
he probably enjoyed seeing his stylists stressed and crying but you wouldn’t let him see you break, you weren’t some crazed fan- you were there to work
soonyoung knew you probably hated him and he expected to hate you too
after dealing with so many stylists who were clearly only there to get clout and not do their job, it was hard to think of you as an exception, at least at first
the first month he treated you quite terribly, even by his standards. once you stayed past the first month, he knew you were quite different- he decided to see how much you could handle
he notices that you don’t buckle under pressure and adapts to that, starts calling you byeollie (별이/star) instead of your name since he spotted a childhood photo of you in your office with star printed pajamas on- he teased you relentlessly after this
you think about quitting but the money is consistent and it’s so much better than what you’ve made before, you were known in korea and could keep a roof over your head
but the industry was still so fickle that you were only needed as a stylist for idol comebacks and assorted projects- not a full time position anywhere
so you had to stay. plus you’ve been trying to pay some debt off and this was getting it done much faster than before
even though soonyoung was insufferable, you wanted to style him in a way that made him feel seen and understood as an artist
even if he was a pain in the ass, his style clearly meant a lot to him
you always watched old videos of clients to see their style evolution and study where their styling had ended up by the time you started working with them
his personality was so sweet and you could see that in the way he interacted with his fans, you didn’t ever see this side of him so it was a bit shocking
he seemed very confident around his peers but ultimately he was shy, he just knew how to hide it through his work
a part of you knew he was never gonna show you this side of him, but he was genuinely a charitable man who wanted to help others and connect to them through music
yet there was clearly a wall up with him, so you kept yours up too
soonyoung saw the care you put into your work, he just didn’t know how to express any feelings about it. it felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for you to betray him in some way but it never happened. you were always going above and beyond for him
there was a casual intimacy in the way you remembered what fabrics made him uncomfortable, how you picked up on the styles he liked and put them aside for him without him even asking for it
the notes you left with his costumes were always detailed and you were committed to making things right despite how much trouble he gave you
See the full post
661 notes - Posted February 4, 2022
#4
now or never pt. 1
Tumblr media
xu minghao x fem!reader
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (finale)
word count: 7k
synopsis: when you make a chance encounter with your ex, you end up saying that you're engaged to your estranged neighbor xu minghao. when you find out your ex is coming to your friend's wedding, you've only got a month to become a convincing couple.
warnings: (almost) strangers to lovers, fake marriage, shitty ex!joshua, scenes with enclosed spaces (only in this part), angst, a tiny bit of fluff.
notes: hi omg! my first series!!! i repurposed this first part from something I was writing for another fandom forever ago and it inspired me to make it into a series! hope you enjoy it!! tag list: @venusdaisies @mangogyu @idyllic-ghost
You didn’t want to admit that you were having a terrible day, but it was getting ridiculous at this point.
You managed to almost miss the train, get stuck on said train for an hour, and break a heel the moment you arrived at work. Luckily, you had a pair of tennis shoes on standby at your desk, but that pair of heels happened to be one of your favorites. You silently mourned your shoes and questioned your will to live throughout the day, praying that your luck would turn around. 
However, that wouldn’t happen. 
When you were sure the day couldn’t get any worse, you somehow lost your train card on the way home. Of course, you didn’t notice until you stepped into the station. You internally cursed yourself for fucking things up once again today, but you had to focus. You didn’t want to give up any more money for a new card, so you begrudgingly made the 40 minute walk back to your apartment.
Naturally, you weren’t expecting any more obstacles. You wanted the universe to spare you so badly and your body was spent from all the mishaps you handled throughout the day. You felt as if your body was floating as you walked into the apartment building, closing your eyes the moment you stepped onto the elevator. The ride to the 5th floor wasn’t nearly long enough, and the chime signaling your destination jolted you awake. You were almost at your apartment door when you heard a voice call your name.
“Y/N? Is that you?” The man’s voice called out excitedly, convinced that he knew you despite your back being turned. 
You slowly turned around, your eyes widening at the sight of the man in front of you. It was your ex-boyfriend, looking almost exactly the same as when you two dated. With the exception of a different hair color, his presence brought you back to the tumultuous points of their relationship. 
“Joshua! Hi! Yeah, it’s me,” You clutched your tote bag tightly out of instinct. Of course you see your ex when you looked and felt like shit. 
He still looked like the human embodiment of a golden retriever and now he had sandy blonde hair to match. It was actually unfair that he looked so well adjusted, so normal after all this time. He was just so happy and it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach.
You watched his eyes scan your body up and down, taking in the sight before him. “It’s crazy, I haven’t seen you since everything happened.”
“Yeah, since you cheated on me,” you responded with a sly grin. There was no reason to pretend with each other, especially since things ended so abruptly. You had spent too much time crying over him to not enjoy this moment.
“Yep,” Joshua replied quietly, clearly not prepared to be confronted with his past behaviors. 
“So I assume you’re still with her, then?” you asked.
“Yes, we actually moved into the building a few months ago,” Joshua softly smiled, seemingly trying to cut the tension between you two.
“That’s great,” You mustered the smallest bit of compassion for him, trying not to let your resentment rise to the surface. His new girlfriend was pretty enough, and it didn’t surprise you that Joshua had moved on to someone who eerily looked like you. If you had learned anything from that disaster of a relationship, it was that he definitely had a type. 
“How have things been for you?” Joshua asked, giving you almost no time to make a plan to respond. 
Would you tell Joshua the truth about your life? How you had been single ever since the breakup and hadn’t been able to quit your dead end job? Absolutely not. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted your neighbor Minghao. You didn’t want to resort to anything crazy, but the situation required it. If you were going to lie, you would have to go all in. 
“I’m with Minghao,” you said it loud enough to catch the man’s attention. He stopped next to you, the confusion evident on his face. 
“What?” Minghao took out his headphones, staring at you as if you had two heads. 
“We’ve been together for a few years, actually,” you looked at him with a mix of desperation and kindness, silently hoping Minghao would play along for a few minutes.
He seemed to catch on pretty quickly, leaning on your shoulder and smiling fondly at you. Despite the minimal amount of contact you had with Minghao in the past, he was quick on his feet. 
“That’s great! Are you getting married?” Joshua pointed to Minghao’s silver band on his ring finger. He smirked at you, clearly interested in how you would dig yourself out of this.
See the full post
918 notes - Posted April 29, 2022
#3
1:02 am
Tumblr media Tumblr media
kim mingyu x gn!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: alcohol, slightly stupid drunk antics, fluff
notes: did I just sit here and write an entire 1k word piece based off the pics mingyu just posted on instagram? yes. yes I did. and it’s cute as shit! not proofread at all sorry about it
tag list: @bfwonu @thetigeragenda @lavenderautumnx @husbandhoshi @soffrine @sapphichui @dokyeomblr @mangogyu
dinner dates with mingyu were always lovely, especially after a long work week. over big bowls of pork noodle soup, you both talk about the highs and lows of your week.
yet, this time, mingyu didn’t have anything to do the next day, so you both indulged in too many bottles of soju. by the time you were done with dinner, you were both a little too far gone to appear composed.
it didn’t help that it was pouring rain for most of your time in the restaurant, so you had both prolonged leaving for as long as possible.
“shit, is it still raining?” mingyu turns his head to look out the window, squinting his eyes a little too hard. it wasn’t hard to see the rain droplets stuck to the window, but everything he does while drunk is somehow more endearing than he already is.
you glance to see for yourself, but the rain seems to have stopped. “no, I think we’re good,” you exclaim. he gives you a slightly more exaggerated nod than usual and stands up from the table easily.
thankfully, you both organized your bowls and bottles before paying, so you didn’t feel too guilty standing up from the table and nearly stumbling. mingyu rushes to your side, catching your waist and helping you to the door.
“please don’t fall, we can’t bring more attention to ourselves,” he whispers not so quietly into your ear and it leaves you laughing a little bit too hard as he pushes the door open with his free arm.
you knew the elderly patrons were already staring at you before you left, but you couldn’t be too concerned.
you both make it outside and the smell of fresh rain hits your nose immediately. the large trees that lined your path back home were dripping, and you hoped the wind wouldn’t blow any of it on you.
you both walked a considerable amount before you realized mingyu was still clutching onto your waist, but his weight started to crush you.
his chest was exposed, so you took the chance to hit his skin with your hand to grab his attention. he freed his arm to clutch his chest in fake pain.
“you hit me!” he gaped at you, suddenly stopping in his tracks to face you.
“your grip was so tight that you were gonna break my waist in half!“ you exclaim, breaking into laughter before you could finish the sentence.
you keep walking without him by your side, you don’t wait for him to catch up and you start to think something is wrong before you turn around.
you see him take off running toward you with a devilish grin on his face. you scream in fake surprise and sprint away from him, you can hear the heaviness of his footsteps behind you but you’re convinced that you can outrun him.
you almost think you’re in the clear until you hear him right behind you.
“I’ve got you,” he snatches you up with a low growl, his arms are tightly wrapped around your middle while spinning you in a circle.
you’re only scared for a brief moment when your feet lift off the ground, but you screw your eyes shut to stop yourself from getting too dizzy.
“kim mingyu!” you scream his name over and over, each with a bit more laughter than the last until you can’t stop yourself from laughing.
you can hear his laughter ringing in your ears, it sounds so sweet that you want to sit in the feeling forever.
he finally places you down, taking a deep breath. you finally open your eyes to see that he’s beaming at you.
“you’re so pretty,” he says suddenly. he always has stars in his eyes while looking at you, but the way he stares at you tonight feels even more precious.
“you are too,” you reply.
“I love you,” he says it before he can catch himself. his eyes widen and he puts his hand over his mouth.
See the full post
987 notes - Posted July 16, 2022
#2
pretty party favor
Tumblr media
kim mingyu x fem!reader
word count: 3.7k
tag list: @onlymingyus @junkissed @maijunejuly @hyucks-rose @freakyfriedrice @aceofvernons @fallinwoozi
warnings: not really enemies but they know and hate each other lol, gendered nicknames, reader has vagina, reader receiving head, overstimulation, squirting, slightly fluffy
a/n: hi this is halloween-esque but not necessarily spooky. just tension between idiots which I love to write! shoutout to june giving me the title to this + getting me to finish this with her comments on my google doc <3 pls enjoy
“get in the car.”
“fuck you,” you muttered under your breath.
“what was that?” mingyu spoke up again, clearly trying to push your buttons. he’s always done this, always acted as if he’s entitled to an answer even when it was none of his business.
you stopped in your tracks to look at him. “I said fuck you, prick,” you spat out, quickly facing your attention toward the path back home. 
you were coming back from a friend’s Y2K themed costume party which unfortunately meant taking the short walk back home in a denim miniskirt, a baby tee with a stupid saying on the front, and a pair of sneakers. it was a fun night, you drank sufficiently to the point where you felt light on your feet while walking home.
sure, your feet were comfortable, but it was still an inconvenience to walk back when it was cold and dark, but you typically never encountered any trouble since your apartment was located on a quiet residential street. 
however, tonight, mingyu had other plans. you thankfully managed to avoid him the entire night at the party, so much that you almost forgot he existed for a few hours. you spent the night catching up with friends that you hadn’t seen in a while because of work, gossiping a bit too much over red plastic cups, but you still spotted him occasionally doing the same thing. 
despite your friend group’s best efforts to help you make amends, you two didn’t get along one bit. there was too much tension for them to cut through as a collective group, so they eventually let it go in an effort to keep the peace. 
“get in the car right now. cheol’s gonna have my head if I don’t take you home, especially since you were drinking. I know you were taking shots all night,” he responds with that sly grin of his, you don’t even have to look at him to know. 
“that’s not true and cheol should know better than to expect me to ride with you,” your words slur slightly, exposing yourself a bit too much. you subsequently trip over your feet on a crack in the sidewalk, losing your balance momentarily.
you hear him laugh a bit too loud at the mistake and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. of course, he saw it and he’s not gonna let you forget about it either.
“you can’t even walk in sneakers right now! get in the car, princess, seriously,” he objects. you look over and you’re shocked that he’s still bored enough to keep up with you, it’s actively starting to piss you off.
“fuck, just let me fall on the pavement and die,” you yell into the air with your head tilted back, “you’re not even supposed to care what happens to me!” you turn your head to him again with a bewildered look.
“stop before you wake up the whole neighborhood,” he warns. “you know what, enough,” you hear him shut off the ignition and get out of the car, shutting the door behind him and meeting you on the sidewalk faster than you expected.
“you’re being ridiculous,” he points at you with an accusatory finger. 
you scoff. “do you think you’re gonna fuck me? is that why you’re doing this?” 
it feels wrong the moment you say it, but what else were you meant to say? he has notoriously only been friends with girls just to have weirdly long situationships with them, never establishing a proper relationship due to a lack of commitment. he thought it was convenient, you thought it was irritating.
“what? are you fucking kidding me?” he seethes, running his hands through his hair. you’ve really done it now, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this flustered and angry at the same time. yet, it was the truth.
even when the rest of your friend group teased him, mingyu always took it without too much resistance, that’s just the kind of guy he is. 
“am I wrong? you think every girl you come into contact with wants to fuck you,” you insist, you cross your arms in front of your chest and stare at him intensely. 
“i’m doing this because you need to get home, whether I like you or not,” he clenches his jaw, not breaking eye contact for a second. it would probably scare you if you were less drunk, but you were feeling testy. 
“what happened to princess? hmm?” you smirk.
he barely lets you finish before he picks you up by the waist, doing his best to place you in the passenger seat despite you hitting his back with your fists.
“put me down!” you scream into his ear over and over until he’s somehow opened the door and clicks your seatbelt across your waist. you immediately shut up the moment he throws your discarded purse in your lap, you clutch it while looking down at your feet.
See the full post
1,313 notes - Posted October 14, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
fine line
Tumblr media
figure skater!joshua hong x f!reader
synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.
word count: 19.9k
tag list: @junhui-recs @bfwonu @huiranghaes
warnings: figure skater!joshua, writer/fangirl!reader, best friend!jeonghan, dad!seungcheol, smut, fluff, angst, some occasional skating jargon, this is a lot about the Olympics
a/n: y’all. this fic has been reworked over and over and over since spring 2022, it’s the longest fic I’ve ever done. it’s given me so much trouble and seen me through so many changes in my life. doing my final undergrad dance show, writing my undergrad capstone, finishing undergrad, and finding my first apartment. it is my baby and has grown as much as I have since march. thank you to the sports au discord for being so lovely <3 I hope you enjoy it as always and I hope you can feel how much heart I put into this! this is for @gyukult’s sports au collab + this is loosely based on the plot of the book “funny you should ask” by elissa sussman which I can’t recommend enough! title also inspired by the harry styles song ok bye lmao <3
Work isn’t particularly difficult, in your opinion. You’re used to hearing the people around you complain about how much their workload consumes them to a point of no return, but as you made your way into your first adult job as a writer, you tried to stop that from happening.
It’s not exactly easy when you have to navigate the entertainment industry while writing, but the idea of trying to craft new narratives about celebrities that the public is convinced that they know inside and out still excites you.
Even if you’re not exactly fond of whoever you’re writing about, the challenge still intrigues you. Thus, the conversations surrounding ideas for new profiles are always equal parts captivating and nerve-wracking.
“How do you feel about Joshua Hong?” Your manager asks. You look up to see her balancing her weight on the side of your desk, a neutral expression paints her face.
She knows this is a loaded question, all things considered.
“You know how I feel about him,” You blink at her before facing your computer again.
“I do, but I need an updated response considering the anniversary,” She persists. You sigh, swiveling around to face her again before responding.
“He’s great. I like him,” Your voice trails off, you try to nod to convince her, but it’s not working.
Your life has been so intertwined with Joshua Hong’s career as a professional figure skater that it’s hard to delineate life before and after him. He wasn't there, then one day he seemed to consume your life completely.
Before your start as a journalist, you ran a very well-known, albeit secretive, blog about Joshua Hong as a teenager. It was relatively harmless and safe for work, spare the occasional thirst posts sprinkled in. It mostly contained updates about the then emerging skater’s career, offering illegal torrent links for broadcasts of his performances that weren’t available worldwide and communicating with other fans about your love for him. Yet, some random post about him qualifying for the Olympics went insanely viral when you were 17, garnering over 1 million shares in under a week.
It was substantial enough to get his management's attention, and you had the opportunity to interview him not only for your blog but for a major publication for their Winter Olympics coverage series.
With two opportunities to write about him, you were able to fulfill the fan service pleas from your fellow fans for the blog and write a serious piece that made the general public interested in him from the perspective of a fan that knew the general timeline of his career.
The quick success felt like a fluke, but it led you to an undergraduate degree and a dream job as an entertainment writer at one of your favorite companies almost immediately after graduation.
He technically made your career, whether you wanted to admit it or not.
You’ve been trying to forget about the anniversary, but everyone in your life seems determined to bring it up whenever they see you.
“Well, we want you to do a 10-year reunion interview piece with him. That’s only if you want to,” Her voice was sympathetic, but you’re mainly focused on the number. It really had been 10 years, hadn’t it?
You were both incredibly established in your respective careers, him as a 5-time gold medalist with appearances at 3 Olympic Games, and you with a prolific image as a relatable yet incisive celebrity interviewer. It completely makes sense for you two to meet again, considering how much the first interview changed the trajectory of your lives.
It would feed into the nostalgia of Joshua fans that grew up alongside you as readers of your blog and new fans that clamored for any new Joshua content.
Yet, you weren’t exactly convinced.
“I mean, his team could’ve had anyone else write a big profile on him. We’re not the only website in the world with an entertainment section,” You fight the urge to bite your nails and instead choose to wring your hands together.
“He asked us to do it,” She admits.
You try not to look too shocked, but that definitely changes things. You were not close with Joshua whatsoever. Sure, he’d occasionally like your social media posts and wish you a happy birthday every year, but that was the extent of your relationship.
Your teenage self thinks it might be him looking for closure, wondering what might have happened if you stayed in touch.
See the full post
1,656 notes - Posted September 5, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
4 notes ¡ View notes
Text
Code Name: Oracle
This project is in the very early stages of development – everything here is highly variable as I keep working out the details. That said, please send in any questions you like about this project or Phoenix Knight! I’m saving anything to do with PK bugs and fixes until a later date since I’m going to take a break from writing it, but I’m still happy to answer questions about the RO’s and setting.
Summary: Life in Delphi City is pretty much like life anywhere – there’s problems, lots of them, but there’s good points too – maybe a bit fewer. But whatever your feelings are about it - it is home. It is also the city with the highest concentration of super villainy on the planet.
The Guardians are the local superhero team, made up of ‘Paths’ – the people with powers – that are on the side of what is good and right, and approved by the government. Their job is to take care of the villains with powers – and sometimes the ones just smart enough to build doomsday weapons. That kind of thing.
The stuff that’s way above your paygrade.
You might be one of the city’s most skilled detectives but you’re still just a detective. Your bad guys don’t have powers (usually). And messing with one that does ends in a world of pain – kidnapped and experimented on by a previously unknown mad scientist type you’re eventually rescued by a hydrokinetic path.
When your powers are discovered, you’re a chance for the Guardians to snatch up an in-house investigator - a part of the crime fighting process they’d previously been forced to rely on the police and other agencies for. And with people beginning to develop into Paths at previously unheard of rates for some unknown reason, Delphi City needs its Guardians to find the answer.
But now they have you. Formerly one of the best detectives in the city but now... after everything that’s happened, you don’t know what you are, but they have decided what they want you to be:
Their very own Oracle.
Features
An +18 rating, again, more for my own peace of mind than what I believe the content will actually be, but I ask that it’s respected.
Warnings: imprisonment, experimentation, police, injuries, genre-typical violence, more to be added.
Planned Features Include:
Customizable Skill Approach - What kind of detective were you known to be. Are you the sort of detective that is good with getting people to tell you what you need to know? Are you the sort that can chase down and catch and answer even if it has you sprinting across rooftops? Are you the sort that notices the details and can put them together? And is that still your style?
Customizable pronouns (with an option in the player menu to reset them as desired)
Decide why you joined the police in the first place. Also decide how you feel about your maverick big brother.
Four romance routes currently planned: Siren, Warren, Cal, and Victoria
Characters
The Detective – Gender Selectable - MC – A legacy cop, whose grandfather and father were both respected life-long officers, your family has a reputation in the DCPD - one that your older brother managed to thoroughly trash, or redeem, depending on who you ask while you were still on the beat. Your position is hard won but no one can deny your skills as an investigator, family name or no. But when your kidnapping results in the development of powers, making you a ‘Path’ you’re put into the Guardians, not as a costumed hero, but as an investigative specialist.
The Villain: “Siren” – Gender Selectable – RO - Without any evidence to prove that the mysterious Siren was a supervillain and not just a very clever criminal the detective and their partner were originally assigned to attempt to apprehend them – or, otherwise, gather enough evidence to make the Siren the Guardian’s problem and not the DCPD’s.  Now you’re a Guardian and in the six months since that stakeout  and it’s very much your job to catch them – but why are they being so damn helpful?
The Leader: Warren Hughes, “Commander Truth” – NB – RO – The Guardian’s telepathic leader, Warren is a strict person with high expectations for everyone around them, but perhaps the highest set for themself. You know Commander Truth best by their black-and-white-lightning bolt costume from the situations where the police have had to work with the Guardians. You definitely didn’t expect your brother’s best friend – and a vague shadow in your life since Adrian went to high school and first met Warren - to be the one under the mask.
The Rookie: Callum Lindsey, “Titan” – M – RO – The newest member of the Guardians, apart from you, Cal has only been in Delphi City for eight months. The blue-and-gold clad ferrokinetic path who can twist buildings out of shape with his abilities is not who you were expecting to be the team’s grinning cinnamon roll, but Cal is definitely the warmest welcome you get to the team.
The Protector: Victoria Aragorn, “Starlight” – F – RO – One of the longest serving Guardians, she joined the official superhero line-up at the same time that Commander Truth did. Though her abilities as a Path give her control over fire – and to a lesser degree light and warmth – she is most famous for her skilled usage of traditional martial weapons and unarmed combat forms. Before Victoria put in the red and black suit of Delphi City’s ‘Starlight’ she worked for the government doing the sort of things only a Path could. (A/N: Victoria’s code name might change later on, but right now I’m amused by the idea of Siren giving her hell over it via “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” so it’s what I’ve got for now.)
The Partner: Theresa ‘Tessa’ Graves – F – Tessa and you have been partners for two years now, and friends for longer than that. She was there on the stakeout the night when everything changed. Her injuries might have forced her to retire from police work but after everything you’ve been through together she’s definitely not retiring from being your best friend. No matter what your opinion on the matter actually is.
The Brother: Adrian – M – Your elder brother is the only family you have left these days, not that that feels all that new. He’s also the one responsible for ruining the family’s sterling reputation when his work uncovered a massive amount of corruption in the police related to bribes and deals made with the city’s supervillain community and he didn’t do the brass the courtesy of backing down quietly about it – instead handing the entirety of his evidence over to the Guardians to pursue and, what was safe to, over to reporters the same day that he handed in his resignation. He claims he’s much happier these days, working as a PI and writing what he reassures you is going to be ‘the worst novel of all time’.
The Doctor: Elis Mercy - M - The doctor in charge of looking after the Guardians, and because of your position and the circumstances around your kidnapping he’s also been your doctor since your rescue. In addition to being one of the only doctors in the city that specializes in caring for Empathic people, his own Path allows him to heal injuries. But just those of the trauma variety - broken bones, bruises, cuts and lacerations, not infections and not poisons. (A/N: The doc’s name is a stand-in, I’m not happy with it. So I’m going to keep fishing around for one that fits him.)
94 notes ¡ View notes
soundtrack-scribe ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Nights in the OR
Tumblr media
A/N: This is called “I watch too much Grey’s Anatomy” so if you’re a fellow Grey’s fan in addition to a fellow Ashton ho, hi!
Word Count: 1.9k
And away, and away we go!
__
Nights on the peds floor we’re, in a word, uneventful. Low hums and beeps from machines doing their jobs while kids and parents alike snoozed between nurses prodding them awake to do their routine checks. You went through the charts of your patients, delegating a duo of an intern and older resident to each case with strict orders to page you only if something was seriously wrong, and a bright “Keep the tiny humans alive,” before making your way to the emergency room.
The trauma team usually ran the emergency room, a sea of green scrubs moving effectively and efficiently, assessing situations before paging the right departments, or diving headfirst into the work themselves. You caught sight of one of the doctors, a tall man in a shade of green scrubs darker than the rest in the room, and rolled your eyes. Attending trauma surgeon Ashton Irwin was about as arrogant as he was skilled, with an annoying habit of assessing quickly, albeit correctly, and working even faster on patients before shipping them off to the correct departments to deal with the fallout. You weren’t sure if that man had ever spent more than an hour, two tops, with a patient from start to finish. True to his arrogance and almost zero tolerance for sloppy mistakes, he was talking in hushed tones to a second year, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw set, as the resident nodded frantically before running off.
Dr. Irwin took a moment to compose himself, giving the slightest shake of his head and relaxing his jaw, before turning to wherever he was needed next. His hazel eyes scanned the room, and even from where you were you could tell that they were more on the green side tonight as they met yours. He offered forth the smallest of nods and smiles in your direction, dimples indenting both sides of the smile.
You returned the gesture, before twirling your index finger about the room. Extra attending on hand.
He waved his hand. No need. Got it covered, thanks.
You smiled your best, I don’t give a damn smile, striding across the room to take a seat behind a computer, crossing your hands behind your head. And with little else to do on your part, you settled in for a long night of researching the pros and cons of artificial bones versus prosthetics in cases for patients with osteosarcoma, a joint effort you were working on with the orthopedic surgeon.
Around 2 in the morning, you took a break from your research to grab a cup of coffee and a small bite to eat. On your way back, you spotted the orthopedic surgeon with a patient. “Oh! Dr. Hood,” you said as you approached. “Come find me when you’re done. I have some ideas.”
The man swiveled on his chair to glance up at you, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “You’re not in OR 2 with Ash?”
“Nnnnoooo…” you said slowly, taking a sip from your coffee. “Why?” you followed up in a clipped tone. What had Dr. Arrogant done now?
Dr. Hood smiled politely at his patient, and got the attention of his resident. “Ma’am, we’re going to take you up for X-rays now, and then we’ll see about setting your arm for you, okay?”
The woman nodded, clearly shaken up. Then, “What about my husband and son?”
“I’ll get word, and update you as soon as I can,” he promised, before the resident escorted the patient up to X-rays. Finally he turned his attention to you. “Car accident just came in. Parents are a little banged up. Mike and Luke are working up the dad. You know how Luke gets about stitches.”
The both of you shared a chuckle. Luke Hemmings, the plastic surgeon, had very high standards for even the most basic of stitches, and if he was on hand and free, it was an easy bet he’d do the work himself. “So, what’s Mike doing with him then, if it’s just stitches?” you asked, referring to the general surgeon.
He shrugged. “General work up and clearance, I suppose. But the mom and the son’s side took the impact the hardest. Specifically the son. Ash didn’t page you?”
You scoffed. “Why on Earth would Ash page me, Cal? It’s trauma,” you raised your hands and voice in a mocking manner.
“Uh, probably cuz the kid is like seven.”
You growled low in your throat, hands going to tie up your hair. “OR 2, you said? How long ago?”
“Not too long. They gotta still be prepping. So if you hurry…”
“Thanks, Cal,” you patted the man on the shoulder before taking off at a run towards the OR rooms, briefly mourning your discarded coffee and potato chips in the process.
When you shouldered your way into the room, Ashton was in the process of scrubbing in, while nurses finished prep. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, arms crossing instinctively over your chest as you made your presence known.
Ashton shut off the water with his elbow, turning slightly to face you. “My job,” was the reply in a tone that questioned your intelligence.
“Bullshit,” you spat. “That,” you pointed out the window towards the child on the table, “is a peds case, and you know it.”
“It will be once it stops being a trauma case, yes.”
“Why didn’t you page me?”
“Because I don’t need you. It’s a trauma case. I’m a trauma surgeon. Now, you want to stop asking inane questions, and let me do my job, or you wanna stand here and fight with me all night?”
“It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who happens to be trauma certified. And I’ll be damned if you do some hacksaw job on my patient that I have to fix later when I can scrub in and do the correct job now. So, are you going to ask me to scrub in, or do you wanna stand here questioning my credentials all night when you know I’m right? Do not make me go above your head to the Chief, Ash, because you know I will.”
His jaw ticked underneath his mask, his eyes hard as he thought over your threat. “Well?” he snapped after a beat of silence. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to scrub in?”
~~~
It was a grueling surgery, working in tandem with Ashton. For all the shit the two of you gave each other outside of the OR, inside you were one of the best teams, each of you knowing each other’s moves before you made them, and knowing what the other was thinking in the subtlest of changes. Even with both of your focuses solely on the patient in front of you, you were both vigilant in sending Ashton’s intern out every hour on the hour with updates, in which you two were also informed of the parents’ recovery.
Just before the four hour mark, Ashton let out a small hum of approval and you nodded. “Close and get him a room on the peds floor,” you told the intern.
“You don’t want me to update the family?”
“No,” Ashton cut in, already discarding his gloves, mask, and removing his scrub cap, shocks of curly brown hair falling forward and plastering to his sweaty forehead. “I will. Give Dr. Y/L/N any trouble and you won’t see the inside of an OR for a month.”
The intern gulped, knowing their boss meant what he said and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Y/N, I’ll meet you after I update the family to make sure we’re on the same page for how to proceed from here?”
“If you can remember how to page me, that is,” you smiled sweetly.
Ashton chuckled as he left the OR, while you stayed to oversee the intern closing, providing probably much gentler instruction than they were used to.
~~~
You rubbed at your eyes and stifled a yawn as you made your way to the cafeteria, still waiting for Ashton to page you. As you walked in, you realized why Ashton still hadn’t paged, spotting the man chatting with a few other attendings.
“Heard Y/N chewed your ear off,” Michael snickered.
“Yeah, she was pissed. Thanks for that, Cal,” Ashton said with a small giggle before changing his voice to do his best impersonation of you, “ ‘It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who also happens to be trauma certified. Do not make me go over your head.’ Like yes, darling, I know. I’m the one who gave you your trauma certification.”
As the men started to laugh, you set your tray down in an empty seat at their table. “Morning, gentlemen!”
There was a cough as they tried to stifle their laughter, each of them getting out a choked, “Morning.”
“What were we talking about?” you asked innocently.
“Uh… just how Luke needs to learn to loosen up on the stitches,” Michael thought quickly. “Turns a five minute procedure into a half hour ordeal, it’s insane.”
“Sorry that I care how my patients look after a trauma,” Luke said with an eye roll.
“I’m sure, psych would call that mentality projection,” Calum teased.
“Paging Dr. Pretty Boy!” Ashton cackled.
“Hey! Rather be Dr. Pretty Boy than Dr. Arrogant,” Luke rounded on Ashton playfully.
“Who calls me that?”
“Uh… everybody. Y/N’s pretty accurate with her nicknaming,” Calum grinned.
Ashton let out a breath of disbelief as you smiled sheepishly at him, shrugging your shoulders. “Have you considered being less arrogant?”
“I am not arrogant!”
“Yeah, you are,” you all chorused, while Ashton crossed his arms and pouted. “Oh, whatever, the best surgeons usually are” you continued, turning your attention to Calum. “Before I got stuck in surgery, I meant to talk to you about artificial bones. Found some promising stuff.”
Calum paused in his sip of coffee. “Mmm, shit, awesome. Uh…” he checked his watch, “I got a half hour before rounds. You got time now?”
You checked your own watch. “Yeah, I got t-”
“Actually,” Ashton interrupted. “Y/N, I was wondering if we could talk real quick first. About the kid.”
“Oh! Yeah. We should probably do that. Cal, I’m off after rounds, if you’re free then.”
“Sounds good,” he nodded as he went back to his coffee while you and Ashton rose from the table, bidding the other three goodbye.
“So, his chart’s all up to date. I have one of my fourth years monitoring the situation, but I’m not expecting any complications to arise. Should be good to discharge probably later today or early tomorrow at the latest,” you brought him up to speed as you walked.
“Yeah, that’s great,” Ashton rushed, eyes darting around as he pushed open an on-call room and locked the door behind the two of you. “How long we got til rounds?”
“A little under a half hour, why?”
Ashton smirked as his hands landed hot on your waist, his lips finding yours. “Wanna boss me around some more?” he murmured against your lips, before he was trailing kisses down the column of your neck, before sucking into the sweet spot just before your collarbone, his hands jerking you to be flush against him. “Or, do you want my sincerest apology for being Dr. Arrogant, and forgetting to page you earlier?”
“Mmmm,” you moaned softly, tilting your head back, eyes shutting. “Little bit of both?”
“Yes ma’am,” he winked before scrubs went flying and your back hit the mattress.
__
Tag List
@aquarius-hood1996​ @creator-appreciator​ @philthepegacorn​ @myfavfanficsever​ @cxddlyash​ @youngblood199456​ @stormrider505​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @hoodhoran​ @metalandboybands​ @maybeememez​ @major5sosstan​ @kaitieskidmore1​ 
57 notes ¡ View notes
plainlo-inthemorning ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
A Loki TVA / Lokane fic that snatched a tempad. Rating T.
Previously: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (of 6)
Shine a Light, part 4
This time around, he feels but the faintest glimmer of surprise as he steps out of the doorway and onto a busy sidewalk in Midtown Manhattan.
A few people stop dead in their tracks when the door materializes out of thin air, but the throng of commuters headed to and from Central Station is so dense, Loki’s appearance goes mainly unnoticed.
Dull resignation washes over him.
The tempad is officially broken. Its coordinates locked onto this little planet where, in his own timeline, he has known nothing but defeat.
Without bothering to look for a newsstand, he reasons there’s a strong probability it’s the year 2014. It would seem the damn gadget is slowly counting backwards, while refusing to take him anywhere else in the universe.
Above his head, a billboard flashing on the side of a high-rise building confirms his suspicions.
Incredibly though, the tempad still not out of “juice”. The battery life seems to be making a mockery of his failed attempts to direct the itinerary.
Taking a step out of the moving sea of people, Loki sees little in way of construction sites along the street.
On his timeline, this would have been two years after his attack on the city with Thanos’ army, but if that ‘highlight’ of Loki’s less than acclaimed villainous career took place in this reality as well, the mortals have effectively tidied up after him.
He tries not think of the countless faces frozen in terror that had looked up at him.
Of the lives lost because of his crazed ambition to prove himself - and to destroy something of Thor’s.
Almost if Loki had been transformed back into the chronically jealous five-year-old child who once stole his golden, annoyingly joyful, perfect brother’s favorite model toy - a grey wolf made of clay - and deliberately let it roll down the steps of the throne when their father (his NON-father) had been away.
The toy had broken into pieces and Thor had been inconsolable. Gripped by immediate remorse despite his initial intent, Loki had tried to fix it with his budging magic powers. Only for the wolf to melt to a sticky puddle on the stone floor.
Thor had wailed so loudly, a passing servant had thought him seriously injured and called for their mother, and Loki had been made to apologize, his usually pale cheeks burning scarlet. Then he had been grounded for the remains of the day.
The humiliation had stung, and so had the regret that his magic had failed him.
Not for the first time, the anger had turned, unwarranted (Loki knew then too), towards his brother.
From then on, it had just gotten slowly worse and worse and more malicious right up until that horrible moment of rage no more than a few days ago (a week?), when Loki had driven one of his daggers into Thor’s side on top of the Stark tower.
And twisted it.
The mix of bottomless sadness and shock in his brother’s blue eyes had cut through Loki’s heart with such force he might as well have sunk the blade of his other weapon into his own chest.
But instead of abandoning his pathetic scramble for power and hold Thor, instead of attempting to heal the wound with his magic that has become so formidable in adulthood, Loki had let the poison drown the remains of his sanity.
Of course, shortly afterward, the green monstrosity had effortlessly and repeatedly smashed him into the concrete floor of Stark’s living-quarters until Loki had thought he heard every bone in his supposedly immortal (right!) body break and his skull crack open.
Tumblr media
To the outside, it had surely been a suitably entertaining show of retribution, but as he had lain there in the crater of rubble, unable to utter a moan, it was as if all the anger had been knocked out of him.
The link to Thanos’ ungodly servant had been severed and Loki had felt more like himself than he had in a long, long time.
When Thor, looking grimmer than ever, had dragged him to his feet in front of the ragtag band of ‘heroes’ and cuffed him, Loki had found himself strangely elated, on the verge of giddy.
His legs had been so shaky from the beating that Thor had had to hold him by the arm so he wouldn’t fall, and Loki had felt the heat of his brother’s huge hand penetrate the many layers of his own armour.
For a few delirious seconds, Loki had wanted nothing more than to lean against his brother’s strong frame and just close his eyes.
Instead, he had started cracking jokes until Thor had slapped the muzzle on him, as if he were some dog (that gesture had embarrassed him more than anything that had gone before). Unable to keep up his sarcastic commentary as they rode the elevator down, Loki had fleetingly wondered if he was suffering from a psychosis or actual brain damage.
Now, standing on the street so close to where it happened, the memory oozes fresh guilt.
But he redeemed himself.
In his mind, Loki goes through the TVA reel once more to remind himself of the images of his brother later in life, smiling at him.
Right before the end came.
If he is to spend the rest of eternity on Midgard - or at least until the multiverse crumbles - he will try to find solace in the good his future self managed to accomplish.
For Thor and, in another, brighter reality, for her.
The riddle of her part in his life now remains unsolved, but as hard as Loki tries to release the ghost wrapped in his arms, it merely squeezes itself closer to his chest.
He could try to find her here, on this timeline.
She will be with Thor, that much is certain, but since the reel of Loki’s fate had shown him only his own path, he knows not whether Thor and Jane shared a life on Midgard, or somewhere else, up until the brothers reunited (for lack of a better word) on Asgard.
What would Loki even say to her?
That, while at the bureau that controls all space and time, he saw her face on a roll of film of his supposed life, and now he aches for her more than anything? That on an alternate timeline a few hours ago, she kissed him?
Thor would not approve of that exchange.
Also, with Loki’s luck, Thor might be a frog in this reality.
He could still try to use the tempad to transport him to Svartalfheim and his own life’s story, seeing as he is now only year from where he feels so strongly he must go.
But finding the proper timeline is like shooting an arrow into the endless vastness of space and hoping it’ll hit the right comet.
He realizes that now.
An arrow.
Somehow, somewhere, on two timelines no less, variants of him had …
Loki’s head jerks up.
The tower.
It’s a desperate idea at best, but from the (very) little Loki knows of his character, Stark’s superior technical skills go hand in hand with an endlessly hungry, inquisitive mind. And pride.
Much like Loki, Stark is a man who needs to be the smartest man in the room. And like Loki, he probably is, most of time (in fact… no. Don’t go there).
Maybe Stark will listen.
Perhaps he can even help make sense of the tempad if Loki can somehow win his trust and appeal to his curiosity and (he winces a little) heroism.
Was it not Loki’s actions who had helped Stark “realize his best potential”, as his TVA file put it?
He spots the imposing structure further up the street, noticing the huge “A” at the top (is that new?), and sets off towards it at a brisk pace, darting in and out of the crowds on the packed sidewalk.
Here goes nothing.
As he reaches the large glass doors he briefly experiences a dizzying deja-vu, when suddenly a man’s voice calls out to him.
A frighteningly familiar, agitated voice.
… With a particular brand of anger bubbling underneath, that Loki had hoped he’d never have to witness up close ever again.
//
“What the hell are you doing here??”
His dark, curly hair has a few more streaks of silver. The checkered shirt is slightly crumbled, the glasses a bit askew. He clutches an armful of papers to his chest.
And he’s wearing a furious expression although, thank the Norns, a mortal complexion.
For now.
“Didn’t Tony explicitly tell you not to come here?! Are you that intent on causing everyone to lose their shit again?!”
Worry is all over Doctor Banner’s screwed up face.
“Seriously, Loki, is this funny to you? Clint is actually in the building right now and, in case Tony didn’t already inform you, he’s made it very clear that he’s quitting the team if you were to stroll through the front door!”
The Avenger has started shaking, his eyes wild (too wild).
This is heading in the wrong direction fast.
Mustering all the calm in the world despite his racing pulse and the nauseating sounds of bones breaking echoing in his head, Loki puts on his most courteous and, he dearly hopes, un-cocky charming smile.
“Bruce, please relax. I assure you, I’m not here to cause trouble. Not for you or anyone else.”
“Right, you just happened to be in town and wanted to stop by for coffee? Loki, this …”
Loki gently interrupts him.
“I merely came here to have a conversation with S- … Tony. Perhaps you could let him know I’m here? I promise you, I will not set foot inside. In fact - “
Loki adopts the form of one of the security guards he can see pacing inside the foyer.
“… I’m not even here.”
Bruce jumps a little and clutches his papers even tighter.
“Oh god, I hate when you do that, man. If you think showing off that trick makes anyone any less nervous around you…”
“Doctor Banner - Bruce. I have something …”
Loki searches for the words, quickly trying to decide on how much to reveal to the man-beast who’s now looking at him with urgent expectancy.
He sighs and bets it all.
“Okay. Bruce, what I’m going to say will sound mad.”
The man scoffs.
“Coming from you, I’d expect nothing less.”
Bruce shakes his head and looks to the sky in exasperation.
“Please - please - don’t tell me you’ve gone and changed your mind about the whole not conquering Earth business. Really, Loki, none of us understand how transforming you into ‘an asset’ became Tony’s pet project over this past year, or why Fury went along with it. But I’m sure both are going to be pretty damn disappointed if their new alien BFF decides to embrace his inner psycho again.”
Loki almost chuckles. It’s all too ridiculous.
“I won’t … embrace my inner ‘psycho’, I swear.”
“Then what?”
The God of Mischief draws in a deep breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Or rather, the security guard’s nose.
Then he surrenders to the absurdity of the situation.
“Bruce, I kindly beg of you, is Tony here? Or … (is there hope?) Thor?”
Bruce still looks at him with deep disdain, but his immediate anger seems to have subsided.
“No, Tony’s out of town. Took Pepper somewhere on holiday. They’re not to be disturbed for at least a week. Her words. And Thor … I should think you of all people know perfectly well why he’s not likely to hang around at the time being. Jeez, you guys and your endless family soap opera … I can’t even.”
Naturally, the universe again blankly refuses to extend any hands to Loki and his doomed quest. Sadly, once again, he is not surprised.
Wait - what?
“What do you mean, ‘soap opera’?”
Bruce looks like he’s about to throw his hands over his head and all the papers with them.
“Oh, come on! What is this?! You want approval? Confirmation of your little victory? Doesn’t the very lovely embodiment of that currently walk around in your apartment or wherever it is you live now? Loki, I’m done here. You have to leave. Bye.”
To hell with Stark – Loki wants to grab Bruce by his shirt collar and shake the little man till he explains what in all of Yggdrasil he’s talking about.
But he cannot afford to tempt the beast. Quite literally.
“Then … can you and I go somewhere to talk? Bruce, you’re a man of science. This is science … related.”
Loki feigns a smile.
Bruce sizes him up. No doubt considering whether to let the other guy continue the conversation.
Then his shoulders drop.
“Okay. Okay. For a creepy megalomaniac, you somehow tend to end up with some very cool people defending your case. Just know that those people are absolutely the only reason, you and I are still talking. Ugh, I’m too nice … ���
Bruce casts a glance over his shoulder into the foyer, appearing to consider their options, when a man exits the glass doors – and shuffles up to them.
“Bruce! How nice to see you. You look well.”
The old man (those eyes …) grins warmly and pats Bruce on the back, then looks from him to Loki and back again.
“Everything alright out here? Is there a security issue?”
Bruce composes himself and smiles back.
“Hi, Lee, good to see you too. All fine. Earl here was just updating me on, eh, the new security procedures.”
He shoots Loki a stern look.
“Ah, yes”, Loki nods seriously. “Doctor Banner had some trouble operating the intricate open and close mechanism of the doors. The elevator doors, especially.”
He can’t help himself. It’s somehow both immensely tragic and life-affirming.
“Oh?” The old man raises an eyebrow (he looks … but he’s not quite …something is off).
“Will I have to get a new security card? I rarely come in these days, but in case …”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary, Lee. Because, because … like you say, you’re hardly ever here, so …”
Still smiling awkwardly, Bruce waves a dismissive hand, almost dropping the stack of papers (the man’s a terrible liar, Loki thinks).
“Speaking of”, Banner continues, “you must be enjoying retirement up there, huh, Lee? Must be nice to live by the sea. Good … air quality?”
Loki sighs inwardly.
The dog sniffing at his ankles looks up at him.
He stares down at the round, fluffy thing as if seeing it for the first time.
Which he is and he isn’t.
The old man is saying something to Bruce about the countryside, when he notices the dog wagging its tail at Loki’s feet.
“Oh, he likes you. You’re lucky, he normally doesn’t care for strangers. No, you don’t, do you Fenris”, the man coos.
Under coats of thick white fur, the animal looks eagerly from owner to Loki.
“Okay, well, I’ll be off,” the old man says, finally. “Come see me sometime, Bruce. My neighbor actually just put his house on the market, in case you’re looking for a weekend retreat…”
He nods at Bruce, then at Loki who barely notices. The dog whines unhappily at being dragged away.
It’s the same timeline.
Of course, it is. The tempad has locked itself on a sequence.
But why the different locations …?
“Yes, thank you, Lee. Take care now. Earl, shall we?” Bruce signals to Loki to follow him round the side of the building.
“We can continue our discussion about the security issue in the garage”.
//
“So, let’s hear it. Tell me what you came to say, so I can tell you why it’s a catastrophically bad idea.”
Bruce sits himself across the small table from Loki and dumps the stack of papers in front of him. The top sheet is covered in coffee mug rings.
They are in an anonymous, windowless office somewhere below the vast tower parking lot and numerous in-house repair shops.
The place is a gigantic maze and Loki has just shut himself in a tiny room with the very monster that turned him into ragdoll. The deep slash on his forehead has only just healed.
He does not fear many beings in the universe, but the mild-mannered doctor’s alter ego makes the hit list with the worst of them.
Ignoring the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up (why did this seem like a good idea?), Loki drops his disguise and takes a seat on the cheap plastic chair. Not much of that flashy Stark glamour down here.
Tumblr media
“Okay.” Loki takes out the tempad and puts it in the middle of the table.
He is not quite sure where to start, so he decides to begin with the purely technical aspect.
Bruce might appreciate being given a few ‘scientific’ details before any mentions of giant smoke monsters and alligators.
In fact, the fewer magical creatures and castles in the sky, the better.
“This is called a tempad. It’s a device that makes it possible to travel anywhere in time. You type in your destination, and a doorway opens. I did not make it myself. It was, er, given to me by a large and very powerful organization … in space.”
Bruce is leaning forward to get a better look at the tempad but makes no attempt to reach for it.
As he’s says nothing, Loki continues.
“This is where it gets, uh, weird, but try to believe me when I tell you, I’m not the Loki you know. I’m from another, similar timeline and -“
“Stop.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just stop, Loki.”
Bruce is leaning back on his chair again. He looks tired.
“I don’t know if you’re supremely bored of domestic bliss already, or just being your supremely annoying self, but I won’t engage. You’re not Loki but a time-traveler from space? Yeah, it’s -“
“No, Bruce, I am Loki. Trust me, I know this seems -“
“Trust? You wanna talk about trust again?” Bruce takes out his phone.
“Okay, we can do that.”
He taps a few buttons, then holds the phone to his ear.
“What are you doing?” Loki’s voice has a sharper edge to it than he intended.
The Avenger stares him down.
“Oh, I’m just calling someone. This guy I have in my contacts under God of Lies”.
Please, no …
Briefly, Loki considers whether another variant of him – the one he encountered at the house by the ocean, most likely – would actually be of more help.
Or if he, the variant, would try to kill him.
It was one thing reasoning with and trying not to get killed by Loki variants who at least understood the concept of variants, but how would he have reacted upon being confronted with a twin before the TVA?
No, not a twin … Because this variant has her.
None of the variants in the Void – the grown-up, human ones – had mentioned versions of her.
Either this variant has successfully taken out every Minute Man ever sent by the TVA to arrest him (in which case, Loki concedes, he may be the superior Loki), or this whole timeline has only just blossomed at the opening of the multiverse.
Why else would he, who apparently also gave his phone number to Bruce Banner, get to live a life so vastly different from the typical arc of a misguided Jotun prince?
Loki feels light-headed.
On one hand, he wants to know everything there is to know about his double, on the other, he fears what and who he might find.
You don’t belong here. Find your own timeline. No more Lokis.
Focus. Explain.
He raises his one hand in a placating gesture.
“Give me a little time to try and explain this, Bruce, and then, then … You can call whoever. Call everyone! But please just -“
“Oh, what do you know,” Bruce puts his phone down, “there’s no answer. What a surprise.”
He crosses his arms.
Loki inhales and tries again, speaking as evenly and as calmly as he can while his frustration mounts:
“There is no way of telling you all or any of this without it sounding utterly ludicrous, so you’ll have to hear me out. Five minutes uninterrupted from now, okay? Yes, we’re talking time travel, but compared to what’s really at stake, even time travel is a pretty basic technicality. Also, I promise you, in a few years’ time from now, the concept of time travel won’t seem all that laughable to you and Stark in particular. Provided this reality exists in a few years’ time seeing as -“
Bruce sighs dramatically.
“Yes, okay, so”, Loki continues, “Two years ago, I attacked New York, right?”
“If you’re about to roll out some outlandish excuse – another one! – I don’t care to hear it.”
The other man is narrowing his eyes as a fresh look of undistilled loathing creeps into his features.
So it did happen on this timeline as well.
“No, it’s not that. Or, I mean, let’s save that. When you captured me, in my timeline, I escaped from the lobby with the Infinity stone. I know it seems impossible from your end of events but - “
“Impossible?”
Bruce gives him a strange look Loki can’t quite interpret.
“Yes, S… Tony dropped the briefcase with the Infinity stone, and I picked it up and -“
Bruce pushes his chair back. The plastic scrapes loudly against the stone tiles of the floor.
“Loki, I can’t. I thought I had the patience to at least indulge you but turns out I don’t. I can’t tell if you’re losing your mind, but either way, you’ll have to take it – this, whatever it is – up with Tony instead when he gets back. Maybe bring that sweet lab partner of yours along if you’re going to talk time travel. With her field of expertise, I’m sure - “
“WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!”
Without thinking, Loki slams both his hands into the table. Papers go flying and Bruce staggers backwards.
Horror dawns as Loki realizes his error, but it’s already too late.
Bruce doubles over in spasms and a deep, much too deep, growling sound escapes his lips. He grips his head with his shaking hands as if trying to contain the explosion within, and Loki feels his own brain go numb with panic as one of those hands triples in size and a sickly green hue rapidly spreads.
There is no way out.
Bruce is blocking the door and soon his bulk will be taking up the entire room. He falls to his knees, arms thrashing wildly and his shirt ripping across his back. The table sails over Loki’s head, one of the chairs lodges itself in the soundproofed ceiling, causing the panels of fluorescent light to flicker madly.
Are there no security cameras?!
There are screams, but they no longer sound human.
Loki has nowhere to hide.
He has to gather his magic around him, but terror is completely scattering his focus, cold sweat breaking out all over his body.
It is a matter of seconds before the transformation will be complete and the monster attempts to tear him limb from limb. With no heroes to stop it.
Cold.
He has only consciously reached for it once before, but now the thought barely registers before ice rushes through him as if by instinct. Bruce is not the only one with an abomination lurking under the surface.
He doesn’t have the casket of his birth father, but he has strength.
There is no time to consider if it’s enough or nothing at all. No time for crippling self-loathing or shame.
In front of him, the Hulk lifts its crazed, bloodshot eyes to meet his.
The green creature cannot stand upright in the office, and the first fist goes through the ceiling with the force of a wrecking ball. The next lashes out at Loki, who dodges it just as his own skin turns a deep, brilliant blue.
Little black ridges and markings rise on his arms and face and though his sight doesn’t falter, he feels the instant his eyes go from green to bright red. The fabric of his clothes chafes his new skin and waves of adrenaline surge through his body. Multiple foreign senses come alive and drown his fear.
But he has not a breath to spare to get used to his true form before the Hulk shoves him against the wall so hard, the bricks shift against his side as if they were made of a child’s building blocks.
The impact makes him gasp for air, yet the pain … the pain he can manage.
He just has to last long enough get out of here. And the cold is crystalizing his focus to let the magic flow easily, powerfully through his hands.
His blue hands.
If he had used this when …
Loki pushes himself off the wall (out of it) and almost collides with the Hulk (there’s no space left to maneuver in) who, instead of smashing its way out, seems hell-bent on squashing the only living thing in its line of sight first.
Loki swiftly crouches down on one knee, puts his palms together and, faster than the blink of a brilliant crimson eye, conjures a rotating orb of ice and chaos energy that explodes in a blinding flash of white light as he hurls it square into the monster’s chest.
The Hulk falls back, breaking through the wall to the parking lot on the other side and crashing into a row of cars, while a sheath of ice spreads from its chest and up its neck. The being that is not Bruce howls and claws at its skin, but the smooth ice thickens and as it reaches the head of the beast, it slides right into its eye sockets – and momentarily blinds it.
It will probably only last seconds but it’s all Loki needs while the Hulk shakes its head furiously.
He makes to flee when he spots the tempad on the cracked floor.
He can’t leave it.
As Loki dives for the gadget, the Hulk simultaneously knocks itself in the face with both fists, splintering the ice into a rain of tiny spikes. With a roar to match the sound of a spaceship engine taking off, the creature lunges.
Loki’s fingers close around the tempad.
He feels a buzz.
The door appears in front of him.
He doesn’t stop to think before throwing himself through it.
The Hulk punches into empty air.
Part 5
17 notes ¡ View notes
brooklynboysficrecs ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Ria’s Top 10 Canon-verse Fics
Tumblr media
So, I’m a little surprised I’ve held off on doing this particular Top 10 as long as I have, if only because this does cover the majority of stucky fics that have been written. It also contains some of my all-time favorite fics, which I will be screaming about below. You’ve been warned. But anyway, this is getting down into the nitty-gritty of why I love stucky -- the original ‘verse, with the original storyline (although there are a fair few canon-divergent fics in here, I’m sure). Pure, unadulterated Steve Rogers loving Bucky Barnes. What more can you ask for, honestly? You could ask for it to be legit canon, but lmao, no, we don’t expect things like that, especially not from the MCU writers. Also, some of the fics I might’ve included in this list are recced in an ask I got a while ago, so go check that out for some mostly-canon angst. Regardless, here are my personal Top 10 canon-verse fic recs:
1. Ain’t No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar. Alright, buckle up friends, because this is the end-all, be-all of my favorite stucky fics. I have reread it probably four or five times in the four years I’ve been in this fandom, and it hits me just as hard every single time. This is canon-divergent post-WS, where Bucky’s come-down from his Hydra conditioning is accompanied by a drug addiction and two smart-mouthed kids he rescued from the streets. Steve literally loves nothing more than he loves Bucky and he is determined to bring Bucky home, kids included. There is just -- so much I love about this story. I can’t possibly fit it all into a little blurb. But this is my favorite stucky fic, hands-down. It’s a must-read if you can handle the incredibly sensitive topics it covers, which means it’s not for everyone. But it has my highest seal of approval. 
2. Perilous Underside of the World by eyres. I reread this recently because I was in the mood for both angst and badass Bucky, and this delivered in spades. Steve’s been kidnapped and held captive by Ross for months, tortured and experimented on, and it as devastating as it sounds. Cue Bucky and the rest of Team Cap coming in for a rescue mission and an adrenaline-filled adventure through the Antarctic wasteland. The summary says it all, honestly: Steve throws a snow-mobile at a helicopter in this one.  
3. Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by eleveninches, febricant, hellotailor, M_Leigh, neenya, tigrrmilk. A lot of fics are enhanced by visual media, usually some type of fanart, but few are incomplete without it -- this fic is one of them. It’s a look through in-universe media depictions of Captain America over the years, with real-life casting and amazingly done posters for the movies. The various Avengers are there to react to it all and it’s nothing short of glorious. 
4. Came Back Haunted* by Brenda. You guys should know how much I love Brenda’s writing, since I waxed poetic about it when I was doing the rec for Prince Charming, but I’m going to say it again: I love her writing. And this is yet again another fic series that will tear at your heart and stitch you back together again. It features, among other things: Bucky and Thor friendship; a road-trip; dark Steve; and bearded Steve! All good things. It’s been a while since I’ve read this, but I’m pretty assured there is much angst to be found here as well, plus the requisite happy ending, because, as previously mentioned, I don’t do unhappy endings. 
5. Tender is the Ghost* by Hark_bananas. OH WOW. Okay. So. I started reading this series right before the second part had been published, and I just. Fell in love with it. The first part is set right after Bucky turned himself into SHIELD, and it features Steve and Bucky re-learning about each other (and themselves) through a closed door, considering Steve isn’t allowed to see Bucky face-to-face. And the second part picks up once Bucky is ready to go home with Steve, and it’s. So sweet. Bucky and Steve recovering, together, and finding love along the way. Bucky loves plants. What more could you ask for?
6. Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail* by owlet. I think this is probably one of the most popular series in this fandom, and for good reason. It’s Bucky setting himself a new goal after the fallout of Project Insight, and that goal is a protection detail for Steve Rogers, well before he has his memories to back up the need for such a thing. Bucky and Steve don’t get romantically involved until much later in the series, but their friendship is a thing of beauty in this, as is Bucky learning how to be human again, through coffee, grilled cheese, and The Olds, the elderly neighbors he comes to care for while he’s watching Steve’s back from across the street. I adore this series and I think most people would be hard pressed to find anything they don’t like about it. 
7. The Blood Will Dry by castiowl. There are clones in this one. It might be the sci-fi nerd in me, but honestly that’s enough information to hook me already. But this fic is a fantastic, gripping read from start to finish, and the clones are only a part of that. It’s another fic that written right after The Winter Soldier came out, and so it has a lot of the hallmarks of that era: Bucky dealing with his conditioning, coming back to himself and Steve, Hydra-hunting missions, some kidnapping, unfortunate throwbacks to torture, and Steve having to figure his own shit out right alongside Bucky. 
8. To Stop My Mind From Wandering by Lynchy8. This one is a little shorter than the other fics on this list, but it’s still one of my favorites, and for a much different reason than the others. This is Bucky and Steve separated for the majority of the fic, with Bucky taking up residence in Steve abandoned apartment while he’s off being Captain America and also looking for Bucky. Bucky does home repairs for Steve. Steve broods and worries. Bucky heals on his own terms and it’s lovely. And the ending is very sweet when Steve finally does come home.
9. despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximiter. AKA The Mask Fic. Which. Jesus Christ. This should’ve gone in with my angst fic recs, because this will hurt you, in the best possible way. Bucky’s mask doesn’t come off, and so there’s no pivotal moment of realization for Steve, no hellfire determination to ensure Bucky survives their fights against all odds. But he’s saved regardless, and the rest of the fic is the team trying to communicate with him, learn his story, all while Bucky can’t speak and the mask physically cannot come off. Like I said, it’s a recipe for Pain, but the pay-off is more than worth it, in my opinion. 
10. waiting for the winter by coldhope. Also just recently reread this one, and I loved the progression of Steve and Bucky’s relationship here as well. It also has Bucky befriending all of the Avengers, not just Natasha or Sam; getting to see from other characters’ POV how their perception of Bucky changes as the fic goes on was so interesting, since it’s not something I’ve seen done in many fics. Which also might be a personal thing on my part, who knows. Anyway. Good fic. Steve and Bucky don’t take forever to figure out their feelings, but they do take a while to get on the same page with each other, which should surprise absolutely no one who has ever read a stucky fic before.
*series, not individual story titles
143 notes ¡ View notes
yslkook ¡ 5 years ago
Text
#onboarding (1)
#corporate
summary: seokjin delivers some news to you that you were not ready to receive. or, jeon jungkook joins the company and you’re suddenly facing a part of your past that you hadn’t really wanted to.
word count: 1701
warnings: cursing, parental death
***
7:47 AM. Like clockwork, you always arrive in the parking lot at exactly 7:47 AM. It gives you enough time to brew yourself coffee in the lounge, set up your desk exactly the way you want it, and check your emails quickly.
It’s a ritual that you refuse to let go of, even after four years. You’ve been at the same company for the last four years, in the same position. You work in your company’s research and development organization, a group with thousands of individuals globally.
You are only a speck in the machine that was capitalism. As long as they were paying you, you didn’t mind. You had loans, bills, and your grandma to take care of.
Too bad they weren’t paying you enough. You had given nearly half a decade of your blood, sweat, tears, and time to this company and they had hardly raised your pay, hadn’t given you a promotion and had only just given you a portion of the bonus you deserved.
Without you, your boss and his boss would be six feet under and it’s a fact you never failed to complain to Seokjin about.
Which is what you were currently doing in the lounge.
Seokjin is your closest friend, outside of work and in work. Quite possibly, he’s your only friend. You had graduated in the same year from university, with the same major, the only difference was that he had finished graduate school and you hadn’t. 
Seokjin is an associate director in the regulatory area within the company. You work closely with his team and his peers on projects. Regulatory and clinical science goes hand in hand- they’re often the people who tell you and your teams to take it down a notch when you get too excited about something that may not be feasible.
You call him a stickler, and he tells you that your head is in the clouds. It’s all in good fun.
You were three rankings below Seokjin. It was something that you tried your best not to get upset about- you both had started at the same time and he has risen far faster than you had within the company. While you were stagnant. That might be in part due to your management. But still, you tried your best to remain happy for your closest friend. You can be happy for him and still wish death upon the antiquated patriarchal expectations that still thrived in capitalist culture, after all.
11:58 AM. You ping Seokjin, asking if he wants to have lunch with you so that you’re spared the annoyance of eating at your desk. Or even worse, of eating with your direct boss. 
Jin agrees quickly and you meet him at the top of the stairs to head down to the cafeteria together.
He stays in the cafeteria for a little longer than you- he ran into a few acquaintances and is chatting with them. You don’t wait up for him, instead paying for your food and finding a table to sit at.
You scroll on your phone for a few minutes, adjusting your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you wait for him to join you. He’s always been more keen than you to converse with people at work when he didn’t need to. It’s something he chastised you about frequently, about how you refused to network with the people around you.
You would always reply- “They can get to know me through my work. I’m not gonna blow air up their asses just so these fuckin’ airheads can feel good about themselves.”
He’d only look at you with that look, the look that stated that you’ve aged him a thousand years with one interaction. 
“Hey,” Seokjin says, sliding into his seat across from you, “I’m so hungry.”
“Surprised you didn’t bring lunch today,” You observe after you chew some rice and chicken.
“I forgot it at home,” He says sheepishly, “I meal prepped yesterday. God, now I want my actual lunch and not this.”
“Careful, someone might hear you and get upset.”
“Oh, I didn’t know how concerned you were over lunch today,” Seokjin scoffs.
“They might get upset that they don’t have Jin’s seal of approval.”
“They have Jin’s seal of approval, but my actual lunch does, too-”
“Don’t refer to yourself in the third person, weirdo,” You roll your eyes.
You both eat in silence for a few minutes, the call of hunger too intense to ignore. The food is good- the cafeteria at your company has been known for its tasty hot food and plentiful options. 
“Do you remember that kid from college? Jeon Jungkook?” Seokjin asks after a few minutes.
“Who?” You reply instantly, without baring the name a second thought.
The name sounds very familiar, and suddenly you recall where you know the name from. He was a sweet, smart kid. Maybe a little naive, but smart nonetheless. 
“Really? Your memory is that shitty?” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “He was your mentee in grad school, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, I remember him. I was only his mentee for like seven months, that hardly counts. Before I left, I mean,” You murmur, picking at your food.
Jin notices your immediate change in demeanor, the way your face falls slightly at the mention of graduate school. You always get like this when talking about college in general, but Jin can’t blame you. He’s been trying to get you to open up about it, even though it had been nearly six years since you had to leave school abruptly.
He knows that there are layers of scar tissue below the surface. But he doesn’t know if you’re ready to face all of it.
“Jeon is starting here tomorrow. In regulatory,” Jin says breezily.
“You gonna be the kid’s boss?” You ask after a bite of chicken.
“Not directly. Namjoon will be, so you’ll be seeing him around often,” Jin says, “Think of it like a blast from the past.”
“Yeah,” You mutter, “That’s a blast from the past, alright.”
***
You feel unsettled the rest of the day, knowing that a sudden, unwelcome intrusion is about to become routine. Sudden change does not bode well with you and that’s a fact you’re willing to admit.
Jeon Jungkook.
You resist memories of him, of sitting with him in your favorite coffee shop for your biweekly mentoring sessions, of school, of classes, presentations, studying in the library, studying at home, home, home, home. You resist all of them, resisting the urge to succumb to any of it.
You can’t blame Jin for springing this on you. You know he wants you to try to move on. But you’ve been stuck. You’ve always been stuck. For five years, all you’ve done is be stuck.
All you’ve done is be running in place, going nowhere, with the memory of your father’s death haunting you behind your eyelids. 
It’s been five years, and somehow you’ve been living as a ghost for all of those years.
It doesn’t matter. Even if Jeon Jungkook was the representation of everything you had unsuccessfully run away from, it doesn’t matter.
***
Cold fury washes over you when you finally learn two days later that Jeon Jungkook is a fresh graduate who somehow landed a job that was two positions higher than you.
Sure, he had actually completed graduate school. He has the fuckin’ degree to prove his worth. And what do you have? Loans from a program you hadn’t even completed, a boss who seems to hate every fiber of your being, and shoulder pains. Lots and lots of shoulder pains.
You could scream. In fact you want to. Jin had avoided telling you what he was coming into the company as, knowing it would only incense you to this degree.
At the moment, you want to throttle Jin, too. You want to throttle every and any man who works at this company who had dared stepped on you in an attempt to gain the spotlight for themselves.
Someday, you’ll get back at them. Someday, you’ll be their superior and you’ll make them regret it. But today is not that day.
You dread running into Jeon Jungkook. You are so unbelievably envious of him, for being four or five years younger than you and securing his spot here at the company when you were still struggling. Namjoon had lots of connections, it was part of the reason that Jin had fought so hard to bring him into the company. Namjoon and Jin have the same boss and often work together. Truthfully, you work with Namjoon more than you work with Jin.
Namjoon had lots of connections, meaning that Jungkook would, too. 
When you finally do run into Jeon Jungkook, it’s by complete chance. You had been passing the regulatory area of your floor, since that’s where the printer was closest to. And you needed the walk, your muscles were screaming for it.
He’s standing tall, outside of Namjoon’s office as they both chat quietly amongst themselves. Namjoon suddenly excuses himself and disappears around the corner for a minute, and you wince, debating whether you should turn around or continue walking. Before you can turn your heel and avoid Jeon Jungkook, he turns his head and meets your eyes with a surprised look on his face.
You bite back your bark- “What? Are you surprised someone like me works here?”
But you reel it in.
He calls your name with a wave and you know you’re trapped. You give him a crisp smile and approach him warily, tightening your hold on the folders in your arms.
Jeon Jungkook looks exactly the same, and yet he looks worlds different.
“I didn’t know you worked here!” He chirps, “It’s been so long, how are you?”
“Yeah. Been here for four years. Five year anniversary is soon,” You reply, voice even and struggling to keep venom out of it, “Good. I’m good.”
Before he can ask you anymore questions, before you can see his bright, bunny smile dim with your cold response, you mutter an excuse and turn your heel to walk away from him.
You’ll just find a printer somewhere else, you suppose.
150 notes ¡ View notes
kitkatopinions ¡ 4 years ago
Note
Is it bad that i want ironwood to be alive in the show and travel with the ace ops and have a redemption? I know most of his fans are happy that he is dead so they cant ruin him anymore but still, his ending is so wrong to me like they redeemed cordo, emerald, FUCKING HAZEL, but not james? I was pulled back into rwby because of james and the atlas arc. v6 last episodes pissed me off so much i didnt even watched the finale to this day but then i saw scenes of james and winter and the ace ops in v7... and now i just want him to swim up from the ruins and be the amazing character he was before v8. His death is so fucking sad to me even with how much they ruined the character... he deserved a redemption arc the most (and better writers, sorry the ask got so long but james ironwood gives me so much feels)
You know, I am right there with you, anon. Here's the thing about James. We didn't see an on screen death and the writers kept his semblance completely unmentioned in volumes seven and eight, but made it public. Yes, Miles Luna said 'rest in pieces' (the total douche) when talking about him in a cameo, but tbh, Miles Luna is sloppy and unprofessional, he could straight up say whatever to try and make the next 'twist' in RWBY surprising.
In fact SPOILER ALERT. I don't remember who, but after Avengers Infinity War when Loki died, people in the project 'confirmed' that Loki was good and truly dead this time, and of course no one believed them and of course no one was surprised to see some version of Loki escape alive in End Game. They had a better ability to twist a not-quite lie out there, due to multiple universes and time travel or whatever (idk the details, I stopped paying attention after I watched and hated Thor Ragnarok.) But still, it stands that if you want to make a character death believable in today's day and age when 'character death' is taken back so regularly and sometimes multiple times per character, writers should A. show the death/show a body (which they didn't do for Ironwood or Watts,) and B. Not leave any character threads hanging.
With Ironwood, they didn't delve into enough emotional responses to things (like Oscar/Oz getting shot off a cliff, or Qrow ever confronting him,) which leaves his story feeling like it lacks a solution and like there's still a lot to be resolved there already. But confirming his semblance outside of the show proper, which seems to act as a form of at least partial mind control, is obviously one giant thread too. Of course, this is MKEK, so the likelihood that they were foolish enough to give Ironwood a semblance that forced his actions at least in part and then not address it, kill him off, and expect everyone to just be happy with that on top of the lack of emotional depth they bothered to give other characters in regards to his 'fall' is high. However, that doesn't make James feel dead, he still doesn't feel like a dead character to me, yet, even if I know a lot of the reasons for that feeling stem from bad writing.
But on top of his semblance being a very big thread that was left untouched, his semblance also would be a very easy out if the writers did want to bring him back or if they wanted to bring him back and redeem him. His semblance could help him survive Atlas and Mantle falling, and it could easily be explained as having pushed him into his acts of villainy. It would still feel like a big ol' retcon (especially with how hard they tried to convince everyone he's pure evil,) but for once, I would like a retcon that actually goes my way in this show. XD
On top of that, you're absolutely right that in the show where Hazel can get 'death equals redemptioned' and tell life lessons to Oscar, Ironwood could be able to be redeemed even without the semblance. In the show where Hazel can beat a child while victim blaming the already-a-victim-of-abuse guy in the kid's head for *checks notes* training young women to be able to fight the soulless monsters who will devour anyone (four to six year old child or not,) and then get redeemed within 24 hours of that... yeah, Ironwood could be able to be redeemed. Emerald can murder Penny, try to kill everyone else at Haven, try to murder Penny again in Atlas, and then join the friend group enough that everyone good naturedly ribs her, including Penny who giggles over Emerald saying 'switched sides' despite the fact that Emerald never once apologized for literally murdering her in cold blood. So yeah, I don't think it'd be off brand of the show to have the 'does bad for good reasons' guy get redeemed even if they did make him express regret that he hadn't tortured children. Clearly, the standard isn't 'if they apologize they're worthy of redemption,' and the standard isn't 'if they only always had good intentions they're worthy of redemption' or 'only kids who are villains can get redeemed,' or even 'so long as they haven't tortured or tried to kill children they're worthy of redemption.'
However, here's where things get a little tricky. Because the standard in RWBY seems to have much more to do with what was done personally against the main group that made them mad or sad, rather than actual moral standings, harm done to the world, intentions, etc. I've talked about that idea in another post, that the show (whether intentionally or otherwise) is treating going against Ruby and her team as worse than actual criminal acts. Emerald's actions are easily brushed aside without her ever admitting she was wrong or trying to apologize, but Ozpin's act of not explicitly trusting Team RWBY with dire secrets months after knowing them is so unquestioningly bad that he has to give an in-depth and very serious apology while explicitly saying he was in the wrong, which the mains then begrudgingly and seriously accept (even though they were laughing with Emerald mere seconds before.) Which isn't to say that I don't think Ozpin had anything to apologize for, just that the framing of Ozpin's dialogue and reception versus Emerald's is ridiculous. Therefore Ironwood being redeemed after wishing he could torture, shooting a child off a high place, and threatening to destroy a town... In the narrative of the show, that can be brushed aside fairly easily. But both the show and the FNDM at large have constructed a narrative where going against the mains is what's treated as hard to come back from and worthy of all the ire and disgust in the world - unless the character comes crawling back, bowing to Ruby's whims in every plan, and regretting ever doubting Ruby's amazing simple soul and the protagonist approved goals she's decided on.
If the price of Ironwood coming back and being redeemed is him kissing up to Ruby and joining the gang of people who just pat her on the back and assure her she doesn't ever need to change or listen to others... I might kindly ask MKEK to keep him dead. Ironwood belongs to his fans now as far as I'm concerned.
They can bring James back, and they even have an easy way to redeem him in their back pocket. But I don't trust them as far as I can throw them, and with the way they've been writing their show, I'd just as soon let James rest.
25 notes ¡ View notes
canyouhearthelight ¡ 4 years ago
Text
The Miys, Ch. 137
Trying to figure out Author’s notes is hard.... Sometimes I just don’t have anything pithy to say, or have too much to say and don’t know where to put it all.
Obviously I am an overthinker.
So, for the sake of everyone reading: Let’s cut to the Shoutouts!
The obvious first: @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, and @charlylimph-blog! I love all of you, you are the best.
Special mentions to: @zommbiebro bc I miss you and hope you’re okay. @nekohuntslight for being the OG person to message me about liking the story (yes, Bael, this is the dirty secret behind why I thought you lived in Australia when we first started talking.... shhhhhh). And alllllll the binge readers who blow up my inbox every day, Iloveyousomuchyoudon’tunderstand. Very much adore all of you, you have no idea how serious I am being right now. I need to go through and make one post just screaming all your names to the universe.
Tyche brought drinks and snacks from my kitchen before flopping on the couch in my quarters. The guys were at work, along with Antoine, but my office was closed down for the day. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” she asked.
“Vati and Hannah have everything planned to the smallest detail,” I shrugged. “They’ve already coordinated with Xio and Evan for all the crowd control and monitoring shifts, and the murals are going up today.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware of the logistics stuff. I literally handle all the staffing for the humans on the Ark, and Antoine was also part of the crowd control conversations.”
“Then why did you ask?” I laughed, grabbing a cracker and carefully stacking cheese and other toppings on it. 
Before I could get it to my mouth, she snatched it and held it out of my reach. “Because I’m asking how you feel. You’re only attending as… well, an attendee. No monitoring, no calling the shots, no working from the floor.”
She surrendered my cracker, but I found myself setting it down, appetite gone. “I’m okay - “
“Lie.” There was suddenly a finger levelled between my eyes like a gun. Just as quickly, it was lowered, and my sister was tilting her head at me. “Come on. You know you can’t lie to me - I’ve known you longer than literally anyone on this ship except yourself.”
“Fine! It’s weird!” I admitted in frustration, standing to pace and shoving my hands through my hair. “My skin is crawling with anxiety, my hands are twitching to snatch up the files and nitpick everything to the smallest detail….”
“Except they locked you out.”
“Except they locked me out, yeah. But I’m pretty sure I could get Derek to let me in, which is why I’ve made a point to tell him not to, no matter how much I ask.” Dropping my hands, I sighed. “But if I ever want to leave this position, I have to let them do this.”
She shrugged and stole my cracker, this time chewing and swallowing before she responded. “You could have kept some involvement in it, you know.”
“Pfft, yeah right. I would have taken it over, and you know that.”
“Yep.”
“Then why even ask.” I dropped back down on the couch.
“‘Cause you needed to hear yourself say it,” she explained, nonchalant as ever, snagging an olive and watching me calmly.
I sat in silence, processing it.  I hated when she outsmarted me like that, especially when she was right. “Can I at least eat first?”
She laughed and let it go, telling me how well the murals for the Festival were coming.  I hadn’t even gotten to - allowed myself - to see the designs, and the more Tyche talked about them, the more I wanted to see them.  By the time I finished my share of our snack, I decided to check out the progress.
We finally made our way to the decks where the Festival would take place, and I thought Tyche was going to die laughing at the way I gaped. The alcoves where the vendors would stage looked the same on first glance, but a closer look revealed very subtle shapes added that would give them a more savage, wild look in the right lighting. Metal sconces had been added to hold what looked like torches, but with special light emitters to simulate open flame. As we walked further, swirls of color revealed themselves slowly, first in light, curling tendrils, but slowly sharpening and taking on a more angular shape, twisting together into phantasmal images that vanished as soon as you tried to focus on them.
“It’s like walking through a garden, or a rainforest, but when I turn my head, I’m in a city.”
“Right?” she laughed as we came around the final corner. 
At this point, we were surrounded by this mural.  Just up ahead, there was a messy head of black hair tied back with a green piece of cloth. Bare feet and arms show smears of paint, and overalls covered a tank top - that, or the cloth for the hair had formerly been sleeves, I couldn’t tell.  One hand propped up on hips while the other hung down, holding a very familiar paint pen.
“Christ on a triscuit, Vati, this is incredible,”  I gasped softly.
She turned and smirked at me over her shoulder. “Not yet, but it will be when I finish.”
“I mean, all of it. The sconces…”
“Those were Hannah and Ivan.” Parvati walked over and touched one with her finger tip, stroking it gently.
Tyche made an impressed noise. “I’m only a little shocked that he had enough time.”
“The materials are on loan from the engineering departments, and we wanted them to be rather rough in the finishing. It helped. Sophia, no matter how curious you are, please do not lick the walls.”
A giggle bubbled up through my chest. “The thought never crossed my mind. I was trying to put together all the flavor profiles here. It’s… a lot.”
“Forgive me if I focused more on color than how the walls would taste. I don’t generally cook, remember.”
I stared down a swirl of pomegranate, popcorn, and gochujang. The colors - blue, pink, and yellow, respectively - worked well together, but the thought of the flavors made my stomach churn. “I solemnly swear not to lick the walls,” I promised. “How much of this are you expecting to still be up by the third night?”
“We have a team that will specifically come touch up the mural in specific places the morning before the second day.”
Tyche turned toward me and away from her study of the art. “Also, you would be surprised how much paint is on the walls. It will take a lot for Else to eat it all, once they are allowed in the area.”
“Before you ask,” Parvati cut me off. “We just asked them nicely. Well, Sam and Derek did.  They’ve become quite the ersatz diplomats to Else.” 
“Anything left?”
“Hannah is putting the final touches on the curtains for the alcoves and the seating areas. She’ll have a team installing them tonight once I finish.”
It was clever, and explained why she was only touching up part of the mural halfway between now and the closing of the event. “You two have really put your stamp on it.”
“Feel better?” She held one hand up gesturing at the entire entire project, eyebrow arched  to show me that she hadn’t been fooled for a moment.
I rubbed my neck, and glanced at her from underneath my eyelashes. “Busted, I guess.”
“That would imply that anyone had believed your charade,” she smirked.
Taking a deep breath, I looked around us again. “I honestly do. I could never have done all this. Holding on would have…”
“Kept you in a position you frankly hate,” Parvati interrupted gracefully. “It’s the same reason Sebastian went back to the Undine. He’s passionate about it, and it shows in the quality of his work.” When I gaped in insult, she held up a hand. “Not everyone can succeed through fear of failing and a determination that things be done right if they must be done at all.”
“Everyone talking about me needing to retire, like I’m old or something,” I joked, throwing my hands into the air.  “Physically, I’m only thirty-five.”
Tyche nodded to concede my point. “What about the food? I haven’t seen a menu come out yet.”
The change in topic made Parvati’s face collapse. “What? It should have gone out yesterday…” She flicked open her datapad, which flickered from the overspray that covered it. Frantically scrolling, she groaned. “This was scheduled, why didn’t it send?”
“Did you check the date?” I asked calmly. “Specifically the year.”
“Three times, it’s scheduled for tomorrow,” she insisted. “Right here: May seventeenth, twenty-forty aw fuck….”
“At least you got the decade right,” I pointed out. “You wouldn’t believe how many scheduled emails I’ve tried to automatically send out for ten or fifteen years ago.”
She nodded and seemed to get her bearings back. “So, protocol for this is… just send it right now and apologize for the late notification, don’t try to make excuses or explain?”
“Exactly. They won’t care why, they’ll just be excited the list is out.”
With a couple quick gestures, she sent the email and dismissed her datapad. “Okay, that was the last thing, then.” Turning back toward the wall she was working on before, she waved to us over her shoulder. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really do need to finish this up. Thank you for coming to see everything… it was oddly reassuring to have both of you give us your stamp of approval before the Festival instead of making us wait until after.”
“For the record, you two have always had my stamp of approval, or I wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep my nose out of it.” I knew she couldn’t see me, but I still smiled. “We’ll catch up with you after the Food Festival.  Remember: both of you need to plan on taking the day off afterwards. I’m serious.  Have your unofficial advisors drop in and chat about everything, that’s fine. But no actual work, and I won’t let either of you see the survey results until the second day after. So rest.”
“Got it, boss lady. Have a good night!”
Tyche and I turned and headed back to my quarters. We remained silent as we took in all the preparations that had been done, waving to the handful of vendors who were bringing their supplies in already. Once we were back in normal corridors, the silence broke almost immediately.
“I think they’ve got this,” Tyche suggested nonchalantly.
“Oh, I know they do.”
<< Prev   Masterlist  Next >>
50 notes ¡ View notes
quickspinner ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Month of Miracles - The Longest Night
Find the prompt list here! 
 Hallmark Movie AU Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3
Luka played assistant while Marinette got the kids all garbed in their costumes, making little final adjustments and snipping hanging threads and acting for all the world as if this was just as serious as any fashion show she’d ever worked, instead of the dress rehearsal for a small town library Christmas pageant. He followed her around, holding things, handing her what she needed, and trying not to get caught mooning over her like the lovesick sap he was. The kids already had plenty of ammo to use against him, so he tried to keep a professional demeanor—but that really probably only made them snicker harder. 
Mostly, though, they were too excited about their outfits to care. Marinette had found a way to interpret the costumes that felt true to who these kids were, and that was probably rarer than it should be. 
The angels in particular were a masterpiece, especially given how little white there was in his rock star wardrobe. They glittered and shimmered with all of the hardware and rhinestones, and their wings were dangerous-looking concoctions made of wire and trailing fabric and dangling crystals and beads. They looked like the kinds of beings who would have to announce their presence with “Fear not!” and it was awesome. 
The angels weren’t actually his favorite part, though. Marinette had gotten quickly flustered in the face of Rose’s eager excitement, and started making excuses to leave. She’d snatched his notebook out of his pocket, pulled the pen out of the coil and scribbled her phone number on the back, babbling only semi-coherently as she did so. Then she’d snatched up the lighted jacket, kissed him quickly, and fled. Luka had been too busy fending off Rose’s interrogation to even think to question why she had taken the jacket, until she brought out the costumes for Mary and Joseph. The holy family were now softly illuminated with cleverly concealed fiber optic lights in their hoods. Somehow Marinette had managed to turn off the flashing and camouflage the lights enough to give the children a soft glow, like a renaissance painting come to life (if renaissance madonnas had punk haircuts). 
That wasn’t really why he liked it, though. Marinette had removed the lights so carefully, and repaired the jacket so cleverly, that it was now as good as new, if a bit smaller than it had been, and she had taken to wearing it all the time. Catching a glimpse of his jacket under her big pink puffy winter coat made him grin like a fool every time.
She was wearing it even now, and he felt his grin turn dopey and soft again as he watched Marinette get down on the floor without a second thought to fix a hem that had come loose. She was so amazing, and the last few days had been wonderful, whether they were just driving aimlessly around town and chatting while they admired the lights, or lost in tender looks and touches, or just sharing space while they worked on their own projects. Luka knew without doubt that he was utterly in love with her. It might shatter him when she left, but they had four precious days left and Luka planned to make the most of them. Besides, who knew what could happen? It was the modern age, and long distance relationships were a thing, and surely there was something they could work out— 
Luka quashed those thoughts as quickly as he could. It wasn’t a good idea to be thinking that way, and he didn’t even know if Marinette would welcome anything of the kind from him. Better to stay in the moment. Something would work out; if she felt anything close to what he felt for her, she couldn’t leave him totally behind...and if she didn’t, then it was just as well for things to end now. He’d get over it. Somehow.
In the meantime, he’d enjoy every conversation, every soft look, every touch and kiss and sigh of his name from her lips.
Yep, he was absolutely basking in the knowledge of how completely hopeless he was.
Marinette stood up and backed away, looking at her handiwork with satisfaction as Rose began rounding up the kids to start the actual rehearsal. Luka sidled casually to Marinette’s side, letting his hand brush against hers. She wiggled her fingers in between his absently, and Luka grinned that stupid grin again, aiming it at the floor. 
Teenage giggling suggested that he wasn’t at all successful in hiding it. He rolled his eyes, but the grin remained. Beat it , he mouthed at the kid who was snickering, raising his eyebrows threateningly, but instead the kid burst into outright laughter and a chorus of juvenile “ooooohs,” suddenly filled the air. Confused, they followed the pointing fingers and looked up to find one of the youngsters sitting on the bookshelf behind them, holding a piece of mistletoe out over their heads. 
Luka rolled his eyes. “Oh, very funny, Rowan,” he scoffed, but then he turned and caught Marinette’s face in his hands and kissed her. Without lifting his lips from hers, he hooked one arm around her neck and the other around her waist and bent her backwards. The liplock itself wasn’t anything special—he wasn’t about to ravish her in front of a bunch of schoolkids, particularly since he knew all of their parents personally and did not need the earful they would give him—but it didn’t matter; the utterly cliche dip was as gross to them as a real kiss would have been. 
“EW!” screamed the younger children, while the older ones either whooped or groaned, and Luka sent them a wicked grin as he set Marinette back up on her feet.  
“Never bluff a Couffaine,” he told them, reaching out to ruffle Rowan’s multicolored head as he dropped down frm the bookshelf.  Rose gave him a smug look as she came to retrieve the delinquents, and Luka couldn’t even make himself glare at her. 
Marinette smacked his chest and he just winked at her, catching her hand and holding it to his heart. He got a little charge from the way her stern face twitched and then melted into a smile almost as silly as his own. He bent down as if drawn by a magnet and their lips met for a softer, more genuine kiss, and then she shoved his face away and turned back to watch the wise men start their parade to Bethlehem from the back of the library. 
Luka looped his arms around Marinette’s waist and shook his head slightly as he watched the shepherds, decked in shredded leather and ripped denim and artistically mussed as though they really had been lounging around a field, cower before the rhinestone-studded angel glittering brilliantly in the light of the old spot Rose had bullied or begged from somewhere. “You’re a genius,” he murmured in her ear. 
She tensed a little, but snuggled back in his arms. Luka sighed softly and nuzzled her temple, wishing he could help her, but whatever she was going through in her creative life, she was going to have to figure out for herself. He found her hand with his again and laced her slender, hard-working fingers through his own. 
They both jumped when the library doors flew open with a bang. Everyone jumped or stiffened, and a room full of wide eyes turned to look at the tall, blond woman wearing an absurdly large hat and a fur stole stomp into the library like it was a fashion runway.
Luka felt Marinette gasp, and tightened his hold on her. 
The woman looked around, and demanded in a voice that echoed off the walls. “Well, where is she? Marinette Dupain-Cheng, get out here this instant or you’re fired .”
Marinette pushed him away, and walked toward the tall woman, who spun on her heels to face her. “A-Audrey,” Marinette stammered. “What are you doing here?” 
“My dear, the question is, what are you doing here?” Audrey replied with a sniff, looking around the little library. “No wonder you haven’t been able to get any work done in this dismal place.” 
“Audrey, I’m on leave,” Marinette began, and Audrey flapped a hand dismissively. 
“Leave, schmeave. We have deadlines , Marinette. Deadlines you are appallingly behind on.” 
“B-behind?” Marinette stuttered, looking taken aback. “We were on schedule! I left very specific instructions!” Luka came up behind her and put a hand on her back in silent support.
“Those instructions were ridiculous ,” Audrey sneered. “The products were completely unacceptable. And since you didn’t deign to answer my calls, I came to fetch you myself. If you weren’t so talented I would have just fired you on the spot for abandoning things in such a state.” 
He felt Marinette tense under his hand, and her fists clenched. “Unacceptable—Audrey, you approved those designs! If the production team—” 
“ You are the designer,” Audrey accused, pointing an immaculately manicured finger in Marinette’s face. She flinched, and Luka had to fight every instinct in his body to keep still. “This is your failure. Now come along. You have a lot to make up for. Get in the car, we’ll stop and pick up your things on the way.” She turned and stalked to the door, clearly expecting Marinette to follow. 
Marinette stared after her with her mouth open. Then she closed it, swallowed, and straightened her shoulders—and moved to follow Audrey. 
Luka caught her hand without meaning to. “Marinette,” he said, and she turned her face to look up at him. For a moment they just stared at each other, and cold dread coiled in the pit of Luka’s stomach. 
“I guess this is it,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Luka. Goodbye.” 
Luka stared at her as her hand slipped out of his. She picked up her pink coat as she passed the chair where he had placed it earlier. She dug in the pocket a moment, and took out a box, putting it on the table. She took one look back at him, and then followed Audrey out, catching the door so that it closed with a quiet click instead of a slam. 
“Luka,” Rose whispered at his side, and he barely even felt her touch on his arm. He watched through the windows of the library door as Marinette, head down, shoulders bowed, got into Audrey’s limo. 
Only when the car pulled away down the street could he move. He closed his mouth, and swallowed. Then he went quietly to his own coat, and put it on slowly, aware of the eyes on him the entire time. 
He emerged into the sun and cold, fresh air, and looked around. The street was as it always was this time of year, with families and couples and individuals meandering through. Tinsel decorations sparkled on the streetlights, and the storefronts all had fake snow frosting the corners of their windows.
Luka blinked against the glare, so bright it brought tears to his eyes, put his hands in his pockets, and turned for home. 
***
Marinette didn’t even hear most of Audrey’s chatter on the ride back to the city. She couldn’t stop thinking about that look on Luka’s face. 
I should never have kissed him , she thought, staring out of the window. I knew better, and I let him make me believe . 
She sighed—silently, so as not to draw Audrey’s notice. She wasn’t being fair. Of course it was a shock, what happened. Neither of them had been expecting it. There had been no bittersweet farewell, no moment of closure. No last kiss goodbye, no one last diamond moment to hold on to as the sands began to flow again. 
He would get over it, once the shock passed, she thought mournfully, running an absent finger over the leather wrap on the door handle. He’d send her a text later, she was sure, something sweet and thoughtful, to let her know he was alright and that he was sorry things happened the way they had, but good luck and have a good life and oh, thanks for the present, that was really sweet.
And then he’d go back to his cozy life and forget her like he intended to all along. 
She was so stupid , letting him talk her into living that little fantasy for even a day, let alone— 
She shook her head slightly. This was better. It only would have been worse if she’d stayed longer. 
...at least she had the memories to hold in her heart, though. He’d been right about that. She could remember what it was like to feel like he loved her, his affection and pride and unwavering support, his warm, sweet kisses, and the way that he looked at her…the way everyone giggled at them in the cafe. The quiet, private times when she’d curled in the hollow of his body as he held his guitar around her and played just for her, and she hadn’t had to do anything or be anything. The time he’d taken her up on the hill and they’d stood amongst the young trees, cuddled close against the chill as they looked up at the stars and for once she felt like the universe was big enough to let her breathe...
She fingered the lapel of his jacket beneath her own. Okay, maybe he’d been right too. Maybe the memories were worth having. 
If only she could have stayed. 
She gave another small shake of her head, blinking back tears, keeping her face averted from Audrey slightly. 
“And the colors were atrocious —”
“I told you the color scheme was wrong,” Marinette said before she could think the better of it. 
“It’s your job to make it work,” Audrey snapped. “ You sourced those fabrics.”  
“According to your specifications,” Marinette shot back, her tone even but unyielding. “If you want to overrule me, that’s your prerogative, but don’t blame me for the outcome.” 
Audrey pulled off her ever-present sunglasses and looked at Marinette with narrowed eyes. “If you don’t want this opportunity,” she said coldly, “then say so and stop wasting my time.” 
Marinette shrank slightly. “Of course I do,” she sighed miserably, looking back out of the window. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.” 
“And don’t you forget it,” Audrey sneered, sliding her sunglasses back on. “Or I’ll find someone else to clean up your mess.”
Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in her lap, willing herself to stay silent.
Speaking up wouldn’t do any good anyway. 
***
He was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly into space, when Rose got home. Luka didn’t even hear the door open, but he did hear Rose’s footsteps approaching over the wood floor. 
“Luka,” Rose said softly, but he didn’t look at her. She set a small box on the table in front of him. “I’m pretty sure this was meant for you.” When he didn’t move, she slid it over until it touched his fingers. “You should open it.”
She waited a moment longer, and when he didn’t move, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Luka.” He listened to her retreat, leaving him alone again. 
Sometime later he felt fingers slide through his hair, and the familiar song of his mother’s jangling jewelry was quickly followed by her scent surrounding him as she bent and pressed her lips to his forehead. “I’m proud of ye, son,” she told him. “Take as long as ye need.” 
He sat there until it was dark outside, without really thinking about anything in particular. He just felt...numb. 
Finally he looked at the box Rose had left him. He contemplated it for a moment, and then drew himself up with a sigh, and picked up the box. It was a nice box, lined in silver ribbon. Trust Marinette to pay attention to every detail. He fumbled it a little before he managed to slide the top off. 
There was a pair of black leather gloves inside. Luka frowned slightly, picking them up. The leather was buttery soft, like it was already broken in, and...he slid one on his hand and flexed his fingers.
It fit perfectly, with none of the tightness or resistance that had always bothered him in the past. “You little sneak,” he murmured, tears stinging his eyes even as he smiled. “How’d you pull this off, hmm?” 
Luka remembered suddenly how they’d been talking at Sally’s, and she had walked her little fingers over each finger of his hand, like it was something completely idle. He’d thought it was cute at the time. He’d thought she was just teasing him, since she pulled her hand away every time he tried to take it, but…
He’d be willing to put money on it that she had used some of the leather from his wardrobe to make these, and she’d chosen something he’d worn enough to take the stiffness out of the leather. And the accents around the cuffs and along the darts at the back of the hands...those were from the jacket she’d kept. The one she’d had to cut down when she took the lights out.The one she’d still been wearing, when she walked out today.
Luka swallowed a lump in his throat. All that work that she’d done, on the children’s costumes, and she’d found time to do this for him as well. Because she cared about him, and she loved his music, and she wanted him to take care of his hands. 
“Marinette,” he sighed, letting his head fall on the table. “You’re killing me here.” 
He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there after that before Juleka’s hand rested lightly on his back. She didn’t say anything, just stayed there, and after a minute, he lifted his head and leaned it back on her. She stroked his hair just like his mother had. 
“You need a ride to the bus station in the morning?” Juleka asked. 
Luka closed his eyes. “Yeah.” 
Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles
60 notes ¡ View notes
writingblackpink ¡ 5 years ago
Text
If You Leave Now, You Lose Everything (pt. 2)
Tumblr media
read pt. 1, pt. 3, pt. 4
genre: angsttyyyyyyy
word count: 1.3k
pairing: jennie x reader
You and Jennie have been together for two years now. While the relationship has been rocky as of recently, will you find a way to make it work before it’s too late?
A/N: I’m working on a part 2 to Coincidence, but I figured I would post part 2 of this since it’s already done. I promise I will tie up all loose ends on this one eventually. Let me know what you think!
-
She never called.
The phone call she promised was replaced with a simple text of “made it home”, followed by complete silence in days following. You had tried to call. Once, twice, three times. Each time, the only Jennie you heard was the cheery one telling you to leave a message, but you always hung up before she got that far. The first time you had made it through, only to push an “I love you” through sobs and hung up immediately after, feeling stupid for even saying that much.
And you don’t really know how, but you ended up frozen in front of Jennie’s door on the other side of the world, nearly a month after she had tearfully walked out of your life. Just staring at this door brought back so many memories. All the times Jennie fumbled with her keys while you teasingly placed kisses along the side of her neck. You can still hear her giggling as she tells you to stop long enough so she can open the door. Or, another time you both created a holiday wreath to place on the door, standing in the hallway admiring both of your handiwork after spending nearly an entire day finishing the project, high-fiving as you re-entered the apartment.
Your hands clenched at your sides as you tried your best to keep your tears at bay at the fallen memories.
You called out of work the day after Jennie had left, only relaying that you were sick. It wasn’t a total lie. You were exhausted from not sleeping the night before and every inch of your body ached from laying on the cold, hard ground. All you wanted to do was crawl under a blanket and be sad, so that’s what you did.
In the week following, you tried to pull yourself together enough to go to work and get your job done, only to drag yourself back home and fall prisoner to your own thoughts night after night, unable to bring yourself to take coworkers up on their offers to get dinner or go out. Even they were beginning to see a change in you. You kept wondering if there was more you could’ve done, or if you could have fought harder. These thoughts cycled through your brain until you came up with the only solution that would put you at peace.
You had requested to be transferred back to the main branch of the firm, and as soon as it was approved, you put plans in motion to move back home as fast as you could. Packing proved to be a challenge as you had to bring out all of Jennie’s things that you had hid away for very good reason. Each item seemed to hold its own memory. Jennie, Jennie, Jennie. It’s all you could think of as you packed up each piece, scribbling “JENNIE’S THINGS” in thick black ink on the boxes to be sent with you back home.
Standing in front of her door, you kept going through what you were going to say to her once you saw her face to face again. You thought about how she would react. Would she be shocked? Happy? Sad? Your mind suddenly went blank. You raised your hand to knock just as you heard loud laughter on the other side of the door.
Sure, your family and your firm were surprised that you would be moving back home after a very successful professional year away. You were winning tough cases left and right, and you had built up a team of lawyers that was proving to be some of the state’s best. The professional successes couldn’t mask your unhappiness for much longer. You told them you just weren’t happy and never really found your place in America, and that was the end of the conversation. Even though your parents knew what had happened with Jennie, they really didn’t pry. You were happy about that. Otherwise, you’d be forced to face the reality that this maybe wasn’t the best of ideas.
Time passed as you stood on her doorstep. You couldn’t even be sure how long had gone by while you were lost in your thoughts. It could’ve been an hour or five minutes, but it didn’t really matter. You shook your head free of thoughts one last time before brushing your knuckles across the door. Not too loud or too urgent, just loud enough to be heard in the apartment.
When you moved back home, you waited another few weeks before actually deciding to pay Jennie a visit. Not being able to hear from Jennie at all made it seem like she never really existed. You passed her apartment building every morning and evening to and from work for days until you finally broke. You don’t know if you fully expected her to welcome you back with open arms, but you came to the conclusion that you needed to try one more time for yourself.
You heard some footsteps on the other side of the door followed by another loud laugh. The sound of Jennie’s laugh, even through the door, was enough to make a few stray tears finally spill onto your cheeks. You never really thought you’d hear it again.
The door swung open just as Jennie went to say something over her shoulder, face turned away from you. You were glad that she was smiling at least. At that moment, you couldn’t understand what she was saying. All you knew was that she was standing in front of you again, something you were unsure would happen. You let a small smile curve the edges of your mouth upwards.
She turned around and her expression immediately changed. She squinted at you, confused, as her brows furrowed together. Almost like she couldn’t decipher if it was really you standing at her door. Almost like she had already forgotten what you looked like.
A weak “surprise…” left your lips at barely above a whisper as you held your arms up and more tears spilled out and down your face. She kept staring at you, confused, shocked and frozen in place. You put your arms down as you heard an unfamiliar voice and some footsteps moving towards the two of you in the apartment.
“Babe! Who’s there?” She said as she came up behind Jennie and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. You immediately folded into yourself, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie as you looked away.
“Oh. I’m sorry. This must be a bad time,” you mumbled out, suddenly dizzy, voice shaky and vision blurring, both of them looking at you confused for different reasons as you stumbled over your words, “um...this was a bad idea, I’ll just be going. Sorry.”
The hallway was spinning and shrinking and you needed to get out as soon as you could. As you turned on your heels to leave you heard the mystery woman turn to Jennie to say that was weird and ask again if she knew who you were. You kept walking down the hallway to exit, trying to make it out before you could even hear her respond. You were surprised when you heard silence, and even more surprised when just a beat later you heard a voice calling after you.
“Y/N?” The voice sounded unsure, like her brain was catching up to the situation and finally realizing what was going on.
“Y/N! Come back!” Her voice raised a little as you could hear her heavy steps getting closer behind you. You kept walking, keeping your gaze forward and hoping she would turn around and go back inside. You really weren’t in the mood to be humiliated more than you already were.
To your surprise, once you pushed through the door, you could no longer hear her following you.
You don’t really know why you were surprised. Of course she’s moved on. She looked happy. That’s all you wanted for her. Unfortunately it wasn’t with you, but you could live with your decision to go to her no matter how much it hurt.
Sliding into your car, you placed your cold hands on the steering wheel, sniffled up the remainder of your tears and drove back home in silence.
124 notes ¡ View notes