#[ who you really are; that's not programming - about fitz ]

[proper-goodnight]

On The Run Pt. 3 (Final)

Fandom: The Gray Man (2022)

Pairings: N/A

Type: Multi-Chap (3/3) (Finished)

Tags: @medievalfangirl, @biblichorr, @pyrokineticbaby, @lxvrgirl, @asiludida164, @torchbearerkyle, @jasmin7813, @comfortzonequeen, @96jnie, @ryanclutched, @the-light-of-earendil

There were plenty of people that Six didn’t have a particular fascination with–he’d learned how to deal with it for the sake of the job–and those people that he loathed would never have been the wiser. His life had followed a similar algorithm in prison, except the inmates had learned their lesson much faster. At that time of his life, undeniably, he had been just a touch more honest. 

Despite that, he’d only been with Lloyd a short few hours and couldn’t manage walking behind him without the temptation to shoot him in the back.

His finger toyed with the trigger, aiming his sights down while they trekked through who the fuck knew to some place that Lloyd had yet to mention. Lloyd walked with a swagger in his stride that told him that he knew that Six wasn’t going to do it, and seemed hellbent on strutting like a peacock to further tempt Six into doing it. 

He thought of Claire and the urge to and to not put a bullet in the back of Lloyd’s head increased tenfold. Worry was a permanent fixture on his expression, even if he’d made attempts to hide it. Unfortunately, he’d fallen for the one thing that he was advised against doing once he entered the Sierra Program: Avoid attachment.

He cared about Claire. He would burn the whole countryside down for her—he had . 

“Can you not think so fucking loud?” Lloyd scoffed several paces ahead. “You’re giving me a headache.” 

Six stifled a sigh. “How much farther?” 

“You know, you look like a Courtland.” Lloyd went on as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “It’s got just the right amount of weird and bullshittery that fits you. I wouldn’t have thought it before, but now that I’ve had time to think about it,” a pause followed by a shrug. “I can see it.” He continued. “I was going to stick with Ken, because you have the, you know, gruff Ken doll thing going on, but Courtland? I can have a lot more fun with that.”

Six didn’t answer. 

“Ken doll suits you, but Court? Courtney?” Lloyd rambled on. 

“How much farther ?” He pressed.

“Alright, your Courtship. You got somewhere else to be?” Lloyd then looked, expression feigning offense, then casually threw up a hand before Six could answer. “Don’t answer that. Of course you don’t.” He ducked underneath a hanging branch, the sun setting below the horizon basking everything in a soft glow–it would have been peaceful, had it not been the circumstances. Before long, they would hardly be able to see fuck-all, and the overgrowth and brush in the woods would be a constant hazard that they’d have to fumble through. 

Six wasn’t sure if he could handle it and Lloyd’s mouth at the same time. He was nearing the end of his patience already; had done so before they’d left the safehouse.

Lloyd only took Six’s silence as some silent verification from who-the-fuck-knew-who to keep rambling. “Here I was, right–” He scoffed, but staring at the back of his head hardly allotted Six to gauge much from his expression other than to guess. He didn’t really want to picture it, the stache that served as the centerpiece of Lloyd’s face exasperating enough in real time. “ --ecstatic to see you.” He stopped suddenly, and Six kicked up dirt in his tracks as he followed the motion. 

“Honestly, I’m a little disappointed. Court, it’s a low blow.” He turned, the barrel of his rifle making a wide arc towards Six’s face. 

Six ducked out of the way, his expression twisting into a subtle scowl. “That’s not my name anymore, Lloyd.”

“Are you always this fucking sensitive? When did you last get laid?” Lloyd’s lip curled in disgust. “Despite breaking your collar, you’re still a loyal little bitch.” He scoffed a laugh. “I’ll bet Ol’ Fitz is rolling in his grave.”

“I’m helping you for Claire.” Six reminded him. “That’s it.”

“I didn’t realize that you were part of the family’s will.” Lloyd turned, continuing back down the path. “Kinda ironic that your leash gets passed around, but I’m the one taking you for a walk, eh?” 

Six bit back any further retort, his rising frustration shoved down his throat with the reminder that his constant headache had Claire somewhere, and he was following with either blind faith or the hope that Lloyd would let her location slip by accident. 

As soon as he found out, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold his trigger finger back anymore. 

And he had a lot of self-control.

“Relax before you burn a hole in my goddamn skull. I’m fuckin’ with ya,” Lloyd chided. “We’re almost there, Princess.” 

Six’s brows relaxed, averting the glare that he hadn’t realized that he’d even had . Lloyd was testing Six’s usually stoic demeanor with every step, and the fact that he turned his back and continued through the brush without exactly telling him where there was in the first place did nothing to ease old temptations. 

There became apparent as soon as they happened upon it. The building was dilapidated, hardly anything holding its structure together besides a few extra pieces of board and old bracing. Six stopped while Lloyd ascended the stairs. He turned and looked at him with a raised brow. 

“What?” Lloyd barked.

“This is it?” Six asked.

“Of course it’s not fuckin’ it,” he scoffed. “I didn’t drag your ass all the way out here for a good time. For fuck’s sake, it’s a safehouse.”

“I get that.” Six’s brows furrowed, shoulders sinking as the frustration of this pointlessly long trek hit him full force. “What did you bring me out here for? To redecorate?”

“You got skills in manual labor?” Lloyd asked him, feigning a look of surprise. “I thought that you were just good at killing people.” When Six gave him a droll stare, he clarified: “We’re not playing house. We’ll settle here and come up with a game plan.”

“You don’t have a game plan?” 

“Come on Courtney, I make it up as I go, alright? You telling me that all your bullshit in Croatia was planned ?” 

It wasn’t, but he thought it was rather impressive that everything had worked out like it had. He didn’t know if that was by skill or pure dumb luck. He’d bank on the latter. 

He didn’t answer. 

“Right,” Lloyd said as though that were the end of it and somehow, he’d come out on top. He stepped inside.

Six hesitated by the door, reluctant to set his gun down in case Lloyd suddenly changed his mind about their fragile alliance and because he was reluctant to even admit that he was actually following him in here. Lloyd seemed content to wander across the cabin into a side room, leaving a wide crack in the door before Six heard him piss. 

With a muted sigh, the gun was leaned against the wall, and he took a quick look around the inside perimeter. It wasn’t as dilapidated on the inside compared to the poor structure of the outside, the furniture kept to the bare minimum, no electronics that he could see but a flick of a light switch told him that it had power. As far as he could tell, they were the only two there; it wasn’t like there were many rooms to check. 

Six didn’t really know what he was expecting.

Something similar to the warehouse maybe. Questionable armed individuals wandering around, and he did see the irony in that, minus the loyalty to Lloyd and mostly thinking in vulgar terms relating to getting laid or homicide. Regardless, he wasn’t ignorant enough to hope that Claire would be here. Her sarcasm was preferable to Lloyd’s though, and he never imagined that he’d have a preference. 

When Lloyd walked out of the bathroom, Six was standing in the entryway, hands in his pockets and making a slow rotation. 

“It’s just us here,” Lloyd told him. “You don’t have to constantly act like you’ve got a stick shoved up your ass.”

Six believed him, and somehow, that was more unsettling than having doubt.  

“We didn’t need to stop here,” Six said. “We could’ve kept going.” The sooner he got Lloyd’s bullshit over with, the better. Every second spent with him only made him worry more for Claire.

And his own sanity.

“Maybe what I need you for involves sitting the fuck down and chilling the fuck out.”

“You haven’t told me what you need me for,” Six quipped. 

Rather than respond, and as though to prove a point, Lloyd threw himself down on a worn leather sofa, noticeably clean as much as the rest of the cabin’s interior was. His arms crossed across his chest, legs spread out over the arm. 

There was no room for Six to sit, but that didn’t matter. He would sooner take the floor either way.

God , he was fucking losing it. This had to be some kind of prolonged fever dream.

Before Lloyd could somehow yank Six’s thoughts from his own mind, he walked out of the cabin and onto the front porch. The outside was just as quiet as the inside, the only sound besides the rustling of surrounding forest the squeaking door behind him as it pushed shut. 

He fished inside of his pocket, pulling out a small square photograph; specifically, the Polaroid that Claire had taken of him when they’d first met. It felt as sentimental as carrying an actual photo of her around, knowing that she’d been the one to take it before it’d been awkwardly plucked from her hands. She had tried on several occasions since then but shoving his hand into the middle of the frame every time had made her stop even when she’d attempted to jump into the middle beside him herself. 

You’re so paranoid. He could hear her, mocking him as she looked at another blurry, disrupted photo of his hand. Apparently, you weren’t actually supposed to shake out the photo to get them to develop–she’d taught him that, and he realized that it was a very miniscule thing to think about in the grand scheme of things. 

Bubbles and marks could form and ruin it if you’re not careful. It has something to do with the chemicals.

Six had no idea what that meant. What he did know was that he missed Claire. In the long months of considering giving her up to a life that was not this, he hadn’t actually entertained how his own psyche would react when she wasn’t around. She never did give him a moment to think, and now that he was alone in some remote cabin in the middle of the woods with Lloyd Hansen, his mind was going a million miles an hour. 

He strongly considered getting her that dog that she kept asking for whenever he got her back. Yeah, he must have missed her a lot. 

The photo was tucked back into his pocket, and he turned and walked back inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, the thing was that Lloyd had fucked up. 

Six slid on his slick soles, body jostling as he bounced against the wall and took off, descending the steps two at a time. A cough erupted from his throat, the violent nature of it throwing him off balance–he felt as if he were suffocating under the sudden intrusion of smoke, a flush of bodies once having been opening fire now laying in his wake. The exits had been blocked, fire overtaking the building in a pace that ensured it was no accident.

And it wasn’t. They had done that. They , being Six and Lloyd.

He bled. His right leg had tried to give out on him several times, a twitching, bleeding gash at his shoulder making his arm feel numb. A spot above his eye had turned his right field of vision red, but despite that, it did not deter his efforts to escape. He stumbled forward once he made it to the bottom, spitting out a thick string of bloody drool, coughing and wheezing. There was no time to assess the explosion of pain in his ribs, his leg, his face. He needed to find Lloyd and bail. Pronto. This was the kind of shit that people didn’t come back from.

And he actually had a reason to come back, and unfortunately as long as he had contemplated leaving, a reason to find Lloyd.

Six turned the corner, tripped over a body, stumbled forward, and felt his knee pop as soon as it struck the floor. A round of curses bubbled up from his chest, but he was too light-headed to shout them in any meaningful way. Nowhere to go but forward. Continuing down, down, deeper through the halls, she picked herself back up and—red. A glimpse of red, fixed on that godawful perve stache. 

He half-ran, half-dragged himself over, slumping down to sit on his good leg right next to him. A trembling hand hovered above his face, waving, before he snapped his fingers a few times. “Lloyd.” He said urgently, then, a little louder: “ Lloyd!” He pushed two fingers against his bloodsoaked neck, finding a pulse there, promising, but weak. 

Lloyd coughed, a splash of blood flying from his lips and landing on Six’s bare arm. He thought that he heard him mumble a curse, and then:

“-- Your fuckin’ fault–” he choked. 

A figure out of the corner of Six’s eye yanked his head up, just barely pulling out of the way from an incoming fist. Six grabbed his assailant’s arm, acting with every intention of merely shoving him back before he broke through the bone with one swift snap and shoved his head against the adjacent wall. 

The screaming hardly deterred him, but the next incoming assailant had stared at him as if he’d suddenly morphed into something else in front of his eyes, and with a sudden rage, raised his gun. He was on him in a second, quickly snapping the button on the side that ejected the clip before sending it sailing directly into his face. 

The gun was wrenched from his hand, the barrel snapped back to eject the remaining bullet, and it was tossed off in a puddle of darkening red somewhere beside him. 

A punch snapped the man’s head back, just as the hard soles of his shoes came down on the man’s face, once and then twice. The man wheezed and gave a high, strangled cry as he proceeded to stomp him into the floor. Warm blood spattered his shoes, the bottoms of his jeans, but he didn’t care. Unfortunately, as much as Six would love to leave Lloyd behind to face his own consequences a second time, he needed him.

Dammit.

The man’s face became a bloody mass, eyelids swelling to almost comical proportions. Teeth scattered across the ground, bones cracked in an orgasmic symphony of noise, but he ignored him even as he gradually stopped clawing at Six’s leg. 

Behind him, a creak. A crack in the tile—he turned, heard a sharp ping , and suddenly a cloud of paint chips and dust exploded next to his head, and a thin trail of light slipped through a fresh hole in the wall from an adjacent room. Another stood in the dead center of the hallway, aimed at him with a silenced handgun; his other arm had folded over his face. There was blood all over him from a cheap shot that Six had given him upstairs.

Six dove forward when he fired again, stumbling before he lunged to tackle him by the legs and bring them both to the floor. His fist flew into his jaw and another bullet grazed his temple before sailing into the ceiling above. Fireworks exploded across his vision.

A wrestle for control ensued—grunting and grappling, clawing—and they rolled into the wall. No curses or insults. No screaming. He grabbed his wrist, twisting the barrel of his gun away now that they’d flipped, now that his attacker was on top, straddling his waist so tight with his knees that he could hardly breathe. He felt a pop in his ribs. Pain flared along his side.

The attacker’s arm trembled, struggling to overpower him enough to plant the gun against his head. He fired another round, missing again, and bringing him to three more until the magazine ran out. His other hand pinned him to the floor before he released it to grab his throat instead and shove down, down, down so harsh he felt his windpipe bend against his fingers.

He gasped. Nothing filled his lungs. His face turned from red to a dense shade of violet, and his eyes bulged, and he kicked at the empty space behind him. His free hand reached to push at his face and slipped in the blood pouring out of his mouth and nose.

Six’s hand darted to the side, reaching for the gun that had been unceremoniously dropped. He sent it sailing into his opponent’s head, the full weight of him falling all at once as the body dropped to lay beside him–unconscious, and not dead. He didn’t have time to finish it. While he lay there catching his breath, he heard other steps emerging from the top of the stairs. 

The sound urged him to roll over onto his stomach, hands planted against the floor and gradually raising himself up. He stumbled over to Lloyd, pulling him into a sitting position before finally yanking him up, throwing one arm across his shoulder and dragging the majority of his body weight out a side door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lloyd didn’t wake up for another day, his shallow breaths the only sign that he hadn’t slipped over death’s threshold just yet. Even though he regained some sliver of consciousness the following night, he didn’t let out a single sound until the next–meaning he was pissed that Six had dragged him half-dead himself back to their safehouse and tied him to a chair. 

“Look, just—” Lloyd threw his head back to glare at the ceiling. “You don’t have to blackmail me, Courtney. I told you that a deal was a fuckin’ deal, didn’t I?”

Six crouched only a few feet away, arms draped over his knees, his patience having thinned out days ago and only being reignited by Lloyd’s awake and alert face. He  shook his head and rose to stand from where he’d been pivoted back on his heels, bending to search his pockets, from his pants up to his vest. Each of its buttons was popped loose before he peeled the lapels apart and scanned the interior side. 

His eyes were half-lidded, having spent the better part of the last couple days licking his own wounds. He’d had enough of the bullshit.

As expected, this was when Lloyd stopped playing nice. He shoved his feet against the hardwood to fling himself away and toppled over, hitting the floor. He had incidentally trapped himself on his back like a flipped tortoise, so without any better options, he resorted to kicking both bound legs out at Six.

“Don't,” he snarled.

Six circled him unscathed, then dropped into a crouch behind his head to lean over and search the vest’s pockets.

“I said a deal was a deal. Are you fucking deaf?!” Lloyd twisted and bucked against the chair, against the floor, veins bulging from his temples. “Goddammit! I never took the fuckin’ kid, alright? I never took her!” He thrashed again, again, again. 

Six’s expression was placid, but in his mind, he screamed, days of exhaustion and frustration ripping out of him in one booming word. FUCK!

He should’ve fucking knew. He should’ve known !

“Now let me go, and you can go back to playing house, eh?” Lloyd snapped. The duct tape wouldn’t loosen no matter how much he fought it. “Go right back to being her fucking guard dog .”

That was when Six made the decision to leave him. It did not quite ease his frustration, but there was something satisfying about turning his back and leaving Lloyd yelling strings of curses behind him and flipping his chair on every which side. He even left the door open a crack, quite literally allowing Lloyd to glimpse his back on the way out.

Six picked up a carton of Claire’s favorite ice-cream on his way back to the hospital. He’d planned to stay in a hotel across the street during her recovery period until they could head back to the states–he strongly considered Florida as their next stop–but since he’d been gone for so long, now he was nervously standing outside of her door, having lost years upon years worth of basic English trying to figure out some kind of excuse.

An excuse was somehow harder than the truth. He wondered if she thought that he’d left her. Alone .

Sometimes he saw her as one of his favorite records, having seen years of life but still vibrant and warm. Other times he saw her as a raging storm, chaotic and difficult to grasp. Other times, she was something like stars; cold, unfeeling and far away.

Sometimes, she was all three at the same time. Now, when he entered her room, catching the faint sound of some television show from a TV on an adjacent wall, she was all of those things all at once and something else. 

He felt stupid, the amount of time spent staring, jaw slack, breath caught in his throat until he wasn’t sure if he’d stopped breathing or not. There was something akin to relief, disbelief, and elation. It contorted in his chest, twisted at his heart and fell into barbs at the bottom of his stomach. 

“ Hey ,” was all he could manage, breath finally expelling into stale air and shoved out with a spotty exhale. A stutter. His eyebrows raised, then furrowed, struggling to come to grips with her being there – here –and seeing her.

Claire visibly gasped. Her blankets were thrown aside and she stumbled, knocked off balance and careening toward the side table until both hands struck its edge to stop herself; Six had darted forward to catch her, but she fixed her posture, a thousand curses on the verge of popping off her tongue like hot grease. She drew up as straight as a broomstick. Her expression softened from rage to something much stranger, much more foreign: fear.

As though her eyes were playing tricks on her. 

Tears welled in her eyes.

“This isn’t funny,” she said and lunged, sprinting full speed toward him. 

Six’s arms opened instinctually to greet her, wrapping around as soon as she barreled into him and knocked him back a few steps.

Muffled by the wool of his suit: “Six? Six, it’s you, right? It’s you?” Her glittering tears left pale streaks on his jacket that sparkled. She kept squeezing; her arms shivered, her feet nearly slipping on the floor as her legs quivered. 

She was the only person that he allowed to perform such gestures, the willingness to welcome her with open arms further cementing the fact that she was here, with him, squeezing the breath from his lungs until his answer came out as a high-pitched wheeze: 

“ Yeah. It’s me. ” 

He was overwhelmed, albeit much better at keeping such emotions at bay, continuously clearing his throat, a burning sensation rising up. He held her until his own arms had tightened to a considerable degree–her shivering form and the notion that they were together all the incentive that he needed to hold steadfast. 

Then he was shrugging his jacket off his shoulders, draping it around her instead, a smashed pint of mint chocolate chip safely tucked away inside one of the pockets. He adjusted his watch on his wrist, looking at her. He never voiced his fears because that was so unlike him, and he never doubted himself because that bred potential mistakes–death in their line of business. Impenetrable calm. He’d walked too many bullet and knife wounds to count, and reset a break in his leg without making a sound. 

Now he was about to cry seeing her again. 

“You look better,” and again he was clearing his throat, a lop-sided grin that illuminated his ken-doll face. Disarming. Rare. Somehow it worked for his roughened handsomeness, the scars without his jacket all the more prevalent. Then he removed the smashed, pint-sized carton of ice-cream, holding it out to her. “I brought your medicine. Sorry it took so long.”

Claire’s expression changed, to something vaguely surprised then to amused. Her brows softly furrowed, choking on a laugh halted by her tears. A laugh, less rough this time: more wobbly. Angered by the next wave of emotion that came crashing into her chest, she scrubbed at her bloodshot eyes. 

Managing a brief semblance of calm, she plucked the pint from his fingers and rested it in her palm to examine its sorry state. It was opened, its damaged contents exhumed for close inspection. “I’m really mad at you.” She said without a single hint of rage, her splotchy red face still sporting that sad, dimpled smile. 

But Six felt a warmth in his chest at the realization that she was happy to see him. Genuinely.

Once again, scrubbing at her eyes again with the fury of a girl deadset on peeling her own eyelids off, she threatened him through remnants of choked sobs. “I’m gonna get you back for this. You wait, and it’s going to be really bad, so you’d better have a good explanation for where you’ve been!”

Six’s eyes drifted. When his face finally relaxed, he rolled his shoulders. “You might want to sit down for this one.” He suggested with a scoff of a laugh. “So I ran into Lloyd in the elevator–”

#sierra six #the gray man fanfiction #courtland gentry #fanfiction #the gray man (2022) #the gray man #the gray man 2022

[moonlarked]

The Lost Cities’ Class System and How It Connects To The School System

So, I’ve recently come across posts talking about how the school system and how it doesn’t make sense - why is only Foxfire and Exillium mentioned? Why are no other schools included in the worldbuilding? And it may just be a plot hole. But I think I’ve come up with a theory to explain it.

To start, we need to reestablish how the class system in the Lost Cities works. There seem to be four main levels:

- The Council

- The Nobility

- The Talentless/non-nobility

- The Banished

(There may be other sub-groups, but I’m going with the simplest grouping to make sure this doesn’t turn out more confusing than it needs to be.)

First: the Council. The leaders. To become a Councillor, one must be a part of the Nobility and be elected once another Councillor steps down or dies.

This has.. well, a lot of problems. How does the election work? It’s very vaguely described in the books. Who gets to vote? Certainly not the Banished. Do the Talentless? Or is it just the Nobility? This already means that many people don’t get any say, particularly the more vulnerable and discriminated portion of society.

Second, there are no term limits. Once a Councillor is elected, they may serve as long as they choose. Given how long elves live, this could very well be millions of years.

Last… the Councillors are the ONLY people who get to choose how the world runs. Sure, they make a big show about equality among the different species, but it’s pretty obvious who’s really in charge. Fintan says it straight to their faces. So, therefore, there are twelve people who decide how the entire world runs.

And who gets to be a Councillor? Who gets to run the world? The Nobility does.

This brings us to Foxfire. The noble school, as Fitz puts it. That’s right, only Nobility gets to join Foxfire. Many characters say this is necessary because it depends on what type of job one is going to get, but you know what it really is? Compartmentalizing knowledge. Making sure only certain people know how the world really works.

The way Foxfire works is important because it’s how the class system is kept and enforced. It divides people by their education.

And that brings me to my theory. Lesser schools? Education for the Talentless? Don’t be silly. Non-nobility don’t deserve such luxuries.

Here’s the thing - I don’t believe the middle class gets any education at all.

Formal education, that is. Apprenticeship programs likely exist. If someone’s been doing a job for a hundred years, they’ll probably have students. And since the elves has indefinite lifespans, they would work many jobs and keep the system going that way.

Think about it. Elves don’t need rudimentary education - they speak the language from birth and are incredibly smart. The sessions in Foxfire are heavily focused on abilities and elements and other advanced subjects. Stuff the Talentless doesn’t “need” to know. (The whole history of your species and your relationship to other races? Don’t be silly. Make jewelry in Mysterium instead.)

Then there’s the Banished. Getting Banished means you were convicted of a crime, then taken before the Council… which, as said before, is consisted of Nobility with Noble goals in mind who likely won’t listen to a difference in opinion. So to be banished, you really just have to disagree with the Council.

After being banished, elves go to Exillium, which is like Foxfire - a way of dividing people under the guise of what they “need.” At Exillium, the Banished are constantly told that they deserve what happened to them, that they are outsiders, they are other, and they do not deserve to exist in society.

Oh, sure, you can get out of Exillium. But who decides who gets out? The Council, of course. And I’m sure the deciding factor of who is fit to leave is whether they’ve been sufficiently beaten into believing the Council’s superiority.

Just look at Timkin Heks. He wants to be a part of the Nobility so, so bad. And he got out of Exillium. And I would bet that the reason for that was his aspirations to fit in. We learn later that he’s a member of the Black Swan, but the Council doesn’t know that.

Overall, this whole system is just a really nasty way of dividing people via education. If you don’t know how the world works, you can’t choose to change to way you’ve been treated. If you can’t become a government leader, you can’t change the way you’ve been treated. And it’s enforced by normalizing the “need” for a certain level of education. It’s enforced by prioritizing the usefulness of somebody instead of letting them decide for themselves. It’s fucking dystopian.

(This is also why it was so important for Sophie to be raised by humans. If she had grown up in this system, who knows if she would’ve even registered the need for change? Or if she would’ve been booted for Exillium if she dared raise her voice against the Council?)

If you read all that, thanks! It was very sloppily thought out and written down, but I hope I got it across. I don’t know if any of this will actually be addressed in the books, but it’s fun to theorize.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc worldbuilding #kotlc council #sophie foster #sophie elizabeth foster #kotlc sophie #kotlc black swan #book analysis #fantasy books #kotlc thoughts #middle grade books #ya books #dystopian books #fictional world

[ohifonlyx33]

Sorry, I'm just thinking about how Agents of SHIELD set up the themes within their characters and gave them such rich characterization (even if they never had enough time to show us the long conversations and therapy sessions). Like overall, you just KNOW who that character is.

And the finale stayed true to that. And in a sense gave those core struggles some closure.

Coulson is an agent of mystery, and yet a seemingly average guy. He never was able to have a normal life, but he was given a family, particularly a daughter and a wife (Daisy and May). The show started with #CoulsonLives and, he died peacefully with the woman he loved. Only his memories and legacy still lives on in the form of an LMD. In a sense, he is both dead and alive.

With May you have a woman who wanted nothing more than to be a mother, but who was living in the guilt of having harmed a child on a mission. Here is a traumatized agent, who only comes out of inactive duty to help Coulson. To protect him. But she becomes a mother to Daisy, and later Robin and Flint. She takes care of the whole team. And when her duty is done, she can rest again. This time, content and absolved. Not hiding, but truly retired from active duty because she completed her mission.

With Daisy you have Belonging & Becoming. She never had a family. She didn't know her self-identity. She believed she was a weapon and a curse, but people showed her that they cared for her. The team became her family. She found a family, and she knew who she was even without them... so that in the end she was able to go off and start a new family as children must do.

Then there's Jemma, a sweet and brilliant and curious young mind turned toward helping others and trying to study them. Jemma always had problems processing and expressing her emotions which resulted in repression, internalized responsibility (which turns to guilt), compartmentalization, hyper-vigilance, and over-rationalization of everything. She went through so many traumas and had to learn how to not only have courage and be resilient but how to have compassion, how to let herself be vulnerable, how to let go of guilt, how to be open. In the last season she starts losing her memories, but they come flooding back to the surface along with all those emotions--love and pain and motherhood and family and all her grief and joy is no longer repressed.

And here with Fitz... his story deals primarily with his identity as a genius boy, but it becomes a story about free will and choosing goodness and not letting yourself be programmed by the mistakes you make or the people who hurt you... and in the end he doesn't find his peace and self-worth in being a heroic agent, but in being a loving husband and father. His story is about self-image and forgiveness and staying kind. And he becomes the kind of father Alya deserves. A father who stays, a husband who lives, a man who has made himself a sacrifice so many times at last gets a reward.

You have Mack, the gentle giant, the team mechanic, who is really a simple guy. He starts off hating violence, but he also realizes he has to fight sometimes, in order to protect people. Losing his daughter when he was younger made him a more cautious individual. Finally he used his grief and his own faith in God to bring Hope to others. He became a leader in his own right, learning not to be paralyzed by indecision or fear.

And Elena, she never slowed down or looked back or questioned herself because she couldn't let herself. But she always ended up back where she started, getting nowhere. She learned she needs to wait for others, take time for herself to be still, and think through her actions. She almost lost her faith because she was running from God and her inner self, but in the end, she slowed down, remembered the beautiful power of grace, and started truly running the race.

#aos #agents of shield #phil coulson #melinda may #daisy johnson #fitz #jemma simmons #alphonso mackenzie #elena rodriguez

[camsthesadgirlnow]

my purpose [2]

pairing: beefy!bucky x black sub!reader, mistress!reader, rich ceo!bucky, [scandal show plot]

warnings: smut, cheating (Bucky on wife), office sex, hot hot steamy chemistry, SMUT, cum on body, public sex, talks of pierced body, confident reader, sexy reader, similar to when fitz and liv met. The pov changes, italic is ur thoughts

[1]

summary: the story of how barnes and you met

[this gif🥹]

the unknown question between Bucky and you were how you both met each other. He was in a meeting and you were a note taker in the back, people barely paid attention to you. You were just an assistant to your boss, who had a boss and he had a boss and that boss was bucky.

he was dressed in his usually attire of a leather jacket and a white shirt but damn the jean jacket did really outline his yummy muscles and fuck, his thigh jeans that made you just want to grind on those thighs. You felt yourself getting a little wet let’s just say at work.

get it together you fucking slut, you said to yourself

you shook to clear your mind and actually started paying attention to what he was saying.

“so we lost Rhode Island on the vote to expand our company and we might loose Texas and we cannot have that. Does anyone have an idea on what to do?”

uh yeah. Be more family friendly if those states are mostly conservative and respect family values and private life. They like to have a beer with a nice family and play golf on some douche’s pretentious backyard and then smoke a cigar just because they can. He needs be more like that. Put on an act and he’ll get their vote.

“anyone? Anyone at all?” He sighs

“uh sir if I may” some man spoke up, I cocked my head to side and recognized him, jake. The ass kisser and asshole.

“We need to speak more about gay marriage and more funding towards mental health programs so they know we-“

“Oh speaking towards these issues won’t increase any voting in these conservative states, instead they’ll decline us. The problem is-“

“The problem is you.” I stated, not knowing where my boldness came from even shocking myself. Through my peripheral i could see the mouths agape and eyes staring at me.

“you look like you don’t screw your wife or that you love her at all and that’s fine but you said it so yourself. These are conservative states who value family. It’s why they vote for who they vote for.” I paused and looked up at him, his piercing eyes were staring right into mine and I somehow achieved more of a confidence boost. “You need to put on an act, be more like them. Those men like playing golf on their rich backyards and sip beers like it’s water. Invite them to dinner with your wife, make friends with them, post pictures with them and purposely arrive at crowed places with their company. Then you’ll get their vote.”

There was a brief pause before he asked me “and you are….?”

“y/n y/l/n” you stated, your smile beaming

“Everyone dismissed…..except you” he said staring at me

I sigh and probably get prepared to be yelled at. I walk over to the table and set my notes on it and he walks over and locks the door.

“That was a nice detailed description you gave there” he chuckled shuffling his hands into his pocket

“Just doing my job Mr Barnes.” You said “my job isn’t to baby you, it’s to tell the truth and to help you win the states votes so you can increase the company. Sorry that everyone was too afraid to speak the truth and I understand if I’m fired…”

As I was rambling I noticed with everyone word I would say he would step closer to me and i only noticed when his face was inches away from mine. He stared into my eyes and almost felt trapped as if my energy was pulling him in somehow. And your scent, did you always smell like pure seduction. Like sex. And wear your lips always so plump like that. Your lip gloss outlining your lips perfectly and the way you curly hair would bounce with every word you spoke. Shit am I in a trance?

He started to find it extremely difficult to focus on your face and not the perfect outline of your breasts. The more these dirty thoughts ran across his mind, the more harder he became. His hard cock painfully straining against his jeans.

he hooked one arm behind you which made you gasp and pulled you closer. “god you are so sexy” he growled and connected his lips to yours

Quickly running his hands behind your thigh and wrapping your legs around his waist, he pushed a chair out of the way and sat you on the table. His lips moving to your neck, planting kisses and that’s wear your scent met him again. He groaned at the delicious smell. His hand moved under your skirt, about to pull your thong down your legs until your hands pushed him back and he almost stumbled. He gave you a confused look.

“Mr barnes, y-your wife” you said, trying to at least keep some of your dignity not wanting to be known as the homewrecker/mistress whore.

“What about her? Do you see her here?” He responded non cholantly. Now it was your turn to be confused. Did he hate his wife?

“no mr barnes” you said

“Then it’s settled. Don’t worry about it” he said and came in between your legs, pulling your thong down your legs and groaning when he saw the wet spot. He raised your skirt to your stomach and pulled you to the edge of the table. Your ass almost flying off. His hands unzipped his pants, tugging them down to his ankles. He was huge. Bigger than you expected and everything you wished he was. The veins running along his cock made you moan as it was perfectly sculpted. As much as it was wrong you couldn’t wait to feel him break you apart.

He aligned his cock with your entrance and you already made grabby hands on his shirt, knowing he was gonna take your breath away. He sank down even deeper, allowing his entire length to swallow inside your walls and probably even your womb.

“fuck you’re so tight ангел” he groaned holding onto the table as you let out a moan (angel)

“ah yes” you moan

He starts moving inside you and you swear you’ve never felt something so amazing. Not even your rose vibrator (bless her, she does magic but not even close). The way his cock tapped your clit everyone once in a while made it feel like heaven. His hand went to pull your dress shirt off, ripping a couple buttons off and revealed your black lacy bra. He didn’t make an effort to even unclip it, too hypnotized by how perfect you feel. He resorted to raising it up and showing your perfect pierced nipples which turned him on even more. He pushed you down, laying you on the cold surface he began thrusting even deeper into you, groaning when he sees the bulge on your belly. Your tits bouncing up and down with the movement of the table as if jerks back.

“omg omg I’m gonna cum, gonna cum fuck. fuck, fuck” you squealed as he brought down his metal finger, pressing tight circles on your button. The cold feeling making you moan contrasting to the warm feeling of your clit.

You finally let go, squirting all over his dick and onto the table and floor, causing a wet spot. He was still slamming into you but you felt his thrusts becoming sloppier and he immediately pulled out and came all over your stomach. Some even landing on your lips so you quickly cleaned up the mess using your tongue. Giggling when Mr barnes was staring at you in pure lust and like he wanted to fuck you into a different dimension.

“I don’t” he says

You raise your eyebrows in confusion “you don’t what?”

“I don’t screw my wife and I don’t love her at all.”

#bucky x black!reader #black!reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes #scandal #ceo!bucky #bucky imagine #dilf!bucky #sebastian stan #reader insert #mcu imagine #olivia pope #president Fitzgerald

[bookwyrminspiration]

What did you think of Fitz in Stellarlune? Do you like the way his character and development were handled?

Alright this is a complex question, so i guess we'll find out my answer together as I talk through it. I didn't have nearly the reaction of some of my mutuals who were going on about how his character was destroyed, but I'm also not enamored with him. He didn't really stand out to me this book, like since he was no longer a love interest he got demoted in relevance and effort.

I can't say I'm pleased with it, but I do think it's in part because Sophie is the narrator. She shapes how the story is told, and right now she and Fitz are rocky and she's incredibly low on patience, which means everything to do with Fitz is through that lens. Does he deserve that? Not in the slightest, but I do understand why it's there.

Then there's the matter of Fitz's actions, not just his presence. The things he thinks and does, like calling the fire a mistake, shouting that fitzphie isn't a thing (shannon please it's sophitz get with the program), and his infamous "you didn't even kiss me."

I dislike that it was made such a thing that Fitz called the fire a mistake. I've been trying to figure out how to phrase this, but it feels like a parallel to the unmatchable thing. All her friends were fine with it, but he had problems (valid, worthwhile concerns!) and it kinda demonized him. And now we've got a fire that just a few days ago all her friends were up in arms about, but now he's the one who hasn't come around yet and so he's singled out.

I'm torn between saying it's egotistical of Sophie to expect that everyone agree with her actions and that people are free to disagree with and question her and that doesn't make them lesser friends, while also saying that as cognates it makes more sense for her to be upset by Fitz than anyone else because they're supposed to be more in tandem.

Then for the "fitzphie's not a thing" scene, I think it's reasonable (if a bit dramatic) on Fitz's part. What's happened with them is very public, and it's getting prodded at. He's stressed and makes that exclamation, which I completely understand because it's personal! And people are getting involved where they don't want them! But because of that Sophie lens it's framed almost like a personal attack against her, and I don't like how that portrays Fitz, like he's done something to her when he's also being upset here.

There's the "you didn't even kiss me" scene as well, which I also find to be a reasonable and understandable moment. This person he likes, who he's confessed that he still likes despite the obstacles in their way, has very suddenly shifted away from him. Is he entitled to her or to a kiss? No. But is it reasonable for him to want one and be disappointed that won't happen? Absolutely! It's also mixed in with some extra hurt since he was vulnerable with Sophie about his feelings and she didn't reciprocate. I don't think this scene should be used against him or is unreasonable, but I do think all the sokeefe things happening around it make it stick out like a sore thumb.

So I guess my conclusion on Fitz in Stellarlune is that I didn't so much have a problem with him as I was unhappy with the lens we were seeing him through. And while I understand where it came from, I still don't like it and how adulterated he is by Sophie's feelings. He feels more like background, blending in instead of having a presence like he did before.

I hope it'll improve as they work through things, as he does seem to be genuinely trying. Right now Sophie seems to be the hurdle, but I'm also much fonder of Fitz than I am of Sophie so my bias may be showing there.

#kotlc #kotlc character analysis #fitz vacker #quil's queries #nonsie #stellarlune spoilers #fitz is in my top three favorite character so. keep that in mind. I do have a bias towards liking him #but either way this was kinda where my thoughts were going #but also his presence didn't feel very impactful so there may be some really important scenes or moments I'm forgetting #that other people meaningfully construct their premisses about him being off this book from #from what I remember my main thing was the way we (sophie) viewed him

[oliversrarebooks]

Some more songs!

New invention by IDKHOW for Lily

MK ULTRA by Muse for the auction house

Broken doll by V is for Villains for Emily probably (honestly V is for Villains is an amazing obscure band in general)

Hypnotic by Zella Day in general for Lex and Fitz

Hypnotized by Simon Curtis reminded me of the tension of the auction

World in my Eyes by Depeche mode for Fitz, or maybe even vamp!Oliver, imagining him reading hypnotically to his new thrall

Take me to Church by Hozier feels right

The Flood by Katie Melua for the auction house

Pet by a perfect circle feels perfect for your hypnosis scenes

Now I can't say no, I'm losing control I'm having bad dreams And nothing you can do will keep the bad things Away from me until I fall asleep, bad dreams Despite your good intentions That girl is like an architect And I am just the new invention

Yes, I can see how Lily would fit that.

How much deception can you take? How many lies will you create? How much longer till you break? Your mind's about to fall

And they are breaking through They are breaking through They are breaking through (We are losing control)

I'm not sure how similar the auction house is to the real life MKUltra program that this song is presumably based on, but certainly the vampires have an expertise in mind control that the CIA would love to have.

I know just how to pull her strings now When I pull them she will dance I really think she is so beautiful And broken, distraught So lost And just so damn easy to control

Ooh, that's dark. Poor Emily.

You do it to me so well Hypnotic taking over me Make me feel like someone else You got me talking in my sleep I don't wanna come back down I don't wanna touch the ground Pacific Ocean, dug so deep Hypnotic taking over me

Nice, I love this. Makes me want to write Lex hypnotizing Fitz...

Arriving just in time. Who's dying to be mine? Let me survey the scene Good fight, now keep it clean!

It feels more like a meat market kinda dance club but that's not terribly dissimilar to the auction house.

I'll take you to the highest mountain To the depths of the deepest sea And we won't need a map, believe me Now let my body do the moving And let my hands do the soothing Let me show you the world in my eyes

That's all there is Nothing more than you can feel now That's all there is

Oh thank god a band that I actually know and love. Depeche Mode is amazing and I love these lyrics for Lex and Oliver actually.

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

Interesting vibe yeah

Don't trust your eyes (wash) It's easy to believe them (away) Know in your heart (the weight) That you can leave your prison (pulls you down)

Don't trust your mind (ride) It's not always listening (the waves) Turn on the lights (that free) And feel the ancient rhythm (from your doubts)

Ooh, now this I really love for the feeling of Lily hypnotizing the thralls.

Pay no mind what other voices say They don't care about you Like I do Like I do Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils See they don't give a fuck about you Like I do

Yes, safe from choices, deep in a vampire's thrall...

#ask #songs

[skyler10fic]

To Have and to Hold: Ch. 3 Taste of Success

By Skyler10

Read on Ao3

---------------

Daisy had a slow week at work and was able to launch a simple wedding website by the following weekend. One page included their story, ending with their coincidentally mutual Christmas proposal. She uploaded photos of the two of them at various stages of their relationship and one of their rings. Daisy remembered with a start that they hadn’t taken engagement photos. Oh well, that shoot could come later even if they just had a friend take a few on a nice day. On the location page, she added a few photos of the chapel she had taken on their visit and typed its address. The registry page would have to stay blank for the moment. Eventually, she’d make a digital RSVP option as well, but before they could decide on and send invitations, they needed to decide on a caterer to know if there was a meal option—and whether they wanted a meal at all or just hors d’oeuvres. 

There were still so many decisions to make. Late one night as she stressed about their long to-do list, Carol reminded her that not every conversation they had at the end of the day had to be wedding choices and researching their options. They needed to also just relax together and talk about other things. Carol had said it gently, trying to avoid a fight, but Daisy surprised her by being relieved at the reminder. They had time. Not much for some things, but enough to still live their lives outside of planning and decision-making.  

They decided to keep the wedding itself small, and the wedding party even smaller. Carol’s lifelong best friend, Maria, would be her bridesmaid with her young daughter, Monica, as flower girl. Daisy’s bridesmaid would be Jemma, with her husband, Fitz, on piano and Elena on violin playing, “She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert.

“But just the two instruments,” Daisy clarified. “No karaoke track cheese, please.” Which Fitz teased her relentlessly about, especially saying that he was going to program a drum kit. Daisy reminded him she had earned her black belt before graduating high school, and that put an end to the teasing… for a while. 

The question of who would walk them down the aisle came up during a video call with Daisy’s parents, during which Phil offered both arms if they wanted to walk down together, but Carol reassured him that her Aunt Wendy would do it. Melinda would walk down first, escorting her parents to their seats, then Wendy and Carol, and then Phil and Daisy. 

Elena’s husband, Mack, was ordained as a minister in their small, progressive church, so he volunteered to officiate. And Elena would help their adorable toddler son, Alfie Jr., in his ringbearer duties. 

That left the people they would need to hire, including catering for the reception, a bakery for the cake, and a photographer. 

—----------

The second Saturday in March, they had a cake tasting at a small but renowned bakery across town. Daisy shoved her laptop into her bag as Carol pulled the car into the bakery’s parking lot.

“Okay, we only have one shot if this is the one we go with, so we have to each pick our top three possibilities, not just what sounds good today,” Daisy said like she was a coach at timeout. 

They got out of the car and walked up to the bakery, but before they went inside, Carol pulled Daisy to the side of the door.

“Hey, let’s enjoy this okay?” She took Daisy’s hand. “It’s a cake tasting! Possibly the most fun part of wedding planning. Just breathe with me, okay?”

Daisy took in deep breaths, as instructed. “Right. You’re right. It’s just cake.” She turned and saw a sample wedding cake in the window with two grooms. “Oh thank god.” 

Carol noticed too. “Is that what you were really stressed about?” 

“Well!” Daisy shrugged. “It’s been in the news for years with the courts and stuff, I just, I don’t know, didn’t want to get yelled at when they realize I’m not your bridesmaid or something.” 

Carol squeezed Daisy’s hand. “I promise. I made sure every bakery I called knew this wedding cake is going to have two little brides on it and they were fine.” She gestured to the two-groom cake on display. “Can we go try sample bites of cake now?” 

“Yes, please,” Daisy said in a bashful voice. Carol opened the door and they went in, determined to enjoy the moment. 

And they did, for the most part. A few of the flavors were not to their taste.

“Hm.” Daisy scrunched her nose. “Not that one, sorry.”

Carol’s eyes widened as she put a different flavor in her mouth. “Ooo! This one.” She pointed with her fork and then had a different idea. “Here.” She put a bite on her fork and lifted it to feed it to Daisy. Daisy helped guide Carol’s hand so they didn’t make a mess. 

“Oh! Wow. Yes.” Daisy reacted once she’d had a moment to taste it. “That might be the one?” 

Carol gave her an “I told you so” look. “I think I could eat that every day and not get tired of it.”   

The baker, a middle-aged man with twinkling dark eyes, returned just in time to see their impressed reaction. He clapped his hands once and inquired, “How are we doing over here, ladies? Have we found a winner?” 

Carol and Daisy exchanged glances and both said, “Yes” at once. 

“What is this one?” Daisy asked. 

“Ah, that flavor is called Happy Ever After. It’s a vanilla with a hint of raspberry and almond and my secret ingredient.” 

Carol took this as a challenge. She leaned her elbows on the counter and narrowed her eyes. “Hmm, butter?”  

The baker laughed and winked. “That’s no secret. Plenty of real butter here. And our traditional recipe buttercream, also with a special ingredient, of course.” 

Carol couldn’t tell whether there really was a secret to the buttercream or if he was just teasing her, so she just nodded. “Ah. Of course.”

“Now.” The baker plopped a heavy photo album on the counter. “Let’s talk design.” 

None of the designs were exactly what Daisy had been picturing so she showed him some photos on her laptop, and he flipped to a different section. In 20 minutes, they had exactly what they wanted all planned out. The baker took notes on each part, from flavor to decoration to a topper. As it turned out, the little brides cake topper would be metaphorical, as they decided on a cascade of flowers wrapping from the top down around the sides of the three small tiers and to the base. 

“And what are your colors?” the baker asked, writing and sketching on his notes. When they hesitated, he looked up. 

Daisy blurted out, “Lavender, silver, navy, and gold.” She looked to Carol for approval. 

“Yeah!” Carol blinked in awe at how easy that was. “That was the palette I picked, though. Are you sure?”  

The baker turned his sketch around so they could imagine the colors on it. 

“I’m sure.” Daisy placed her hand on Carol’s on the counter to assure her it really was what she wanted too. “It’s us.” 

“Excellent,” the baker hummed, more to his notes than to them, lost in his artistic visions. 

And so that was two decisions down, with a million more to go. 

As Daisy and Carol left the bakery, Daisy’s phone rang. 

“Hey, is this Daisy Coulson?” a young woman’s voice asked. 

“That’s me,” Daisy answered as she got in the car and closed the door. “How can I help you?” 

Carol waited to start the car until Daisy could tell her what was happening. Daisy noticed and put the call on speaker.  

“This is Nadia, from Delights Catering. I know this is super last minute, and I told you before that we didn’t have any tasting spots open today, but, um, we’ve had an opening.” 

Daisy picked up on her stress. “Rough day?” 

Nadia admitted, “Not as rough for me as for the couple whose whole wedding party got the flu last night and just now called to cancel. But their order of nearly everything on the menu is almost done, and it might as well be used. We’ll have everything ready if you can be here in the next half hour. And bring family or your wedding party if you want. We’re prepped for 100 over here. And I’ve only got five other couples left on my list to call.” 

Daisy raised her eyebrows in silent question to Carol who nodded enthusiastically. It was past lunchtime and they were getting hungry. Those little cake samples hadn’t been filling. 

“Sure thing, Nadia. We’ll be right over.” Daisy programmed the address of the convention center the catering company operated out of into Carol’s phone and used her own to send a group text to the wedding party, at least their friends in town. Phil and Melinda were too far away, but she sent them a separate text updating them on the cake and colors decision and telling them they were headed over to the caterer. 

Melinda sent back a thumbs up, a sunglasses smiley face, and a cake emoji. Phil sent a gif that said Great Work! and said to let them know how the menu tasting went. 

Carol neared the exit and realized they hadn’t ever decided on what time of day the wedding would be exactly, which would determine what food they decided on from Delights Catering’s menu. 

“We have the venue all day,” Carol reasoned, “so it would be up to us.” 

“What if…” Daisy hesitated to say it, as unromantic as it was. “What if we see what Nadia has on the menu and pricing, and that determines the timing?” 

“Okay, besides food though, when are you picturing this? Evening ceremony with dinner and a reception where we dance into the night? Or more like early afternoon so we can see the park around the chapel with an outdoor reception? I could go either way.” 

“Before I answer that, here’s another factor.” Daisy paused to point to the side street Carol needed to turn down. “Do we want to leave for our honeymoon that night or spend our wedding night at home and then leave the next day? And also, where are we going?” 

“Or, we could stay downtown in a fancy hotel honeymoon suite, so we wouldn’t be far from the airport, and then leave the next day. To wherever.” 

“Yes! Oh. I like that.” Daisy added “find honeymoon suite and destination” to her to-do list. 

Nadia’s cooking and her team’s friendly service didn’t make the decision easy. The basic dinner menu, especially for a small wedding with their approximate guest list number, was definitively in their budget, and the hors d’oeuvres were also delicious. 

“Okay, this lemon pepper chicken, though,” Daisy said to the table, but mostly Carol. 

“And this pasta is amazing.” Carol picked up the menu to see what it was called. “Pasta Barbara.” 

A blonde woman at the table observed them with an amused smile. 

Daisy noticed and caught her eye. “Is it that obvious we are new to this?” 

“No, no,” the woman assured. “It’s just a new menu item inspired by an idea I had. I’m Barbara. Or, well, everyone calls me Bobbi.” 

Carol and Daisy introduced themselves as well. 

The man next to Bobbi spoke up with an English accent. “And you can call me Hunter.”

Carol finished her pasta and put down her fork. “Are you two getting married soon?” 

Bobbi and Hunter laughed. Bobbi explained, “We’ve been married.”

“And divorced,” Hunter added. 

“And married again,” Bobbi concluded. “Now we do the wedding thing professionally. We’re photographers, and I got in the decorating and floral business so I could have more input on the backgrounds and settings for the photos. The photos are what hold your memories of your day for generations to come, so I take it pretty seriously.” 

“And I carry all the equipment.” Hunter smirked. 

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “And he shoots the video. We’re a team. And are you two here to plan a wedding or just friends of Nadia’s called in to help with leftovers?”

Carol slipped an arm loosely around Daisy’s shoulder as Daisy replied, “Planning our wedding. But it’s coming up pretty quick, so we have a lot of decisions to make.” 

Carol looked to Daisy and then back at Bobbi. “We’re actually looking for everything you said you did. We’ve got this great wedding chapel through the parks department on a pond, so it’s a great setting, but the chapel itself is bare bones plain inside.” 

“And the reception hall is just a big empty room, basically,” Daisy explained.

“So,” Bobbi jumped in. “You need a photographer who could do outdoor shots in the park and indoor, and you need a decorator and florist who could handle a small wedding on a budget?” 

Hunter relaxed back in his chair, looking even cockier as Bobbi read their situation exactly. Daisy could tell that though he hid it behind bravado, he was smitten with his wife and partner. 

“Yeah, that’s it exactly.” Daisy blinked in surprise at fate landing them at this table with the very people they needed to meet. “You can do all that?” 

Hunter raised his glass to her. “That’s our specialty.” 

“Well, I contract out with florists, but I’d handle all the details.” Bobbi searched in her purse and pulled something small out. “Here’s our card.” 

She handed over a business card with their logo, website, phone, and email address. 

“Take a look, rates are all online, and we can work something out,” Hunter said.

“Thank you,” Carol replied. “This is a huge help.” 

Bobbi shrugged. “It’s why we’re here. Nadia helps us and we help her. The wedding business can be pretty cutthroat, all about the right connections, so we formed our little alliance with those we like to work with. She gets the job done right every time, and we get better photos when everyone is fed and happy.” 

Daisy hadn’t considered this, but it was smart. Bobbi’s dedication to her craft to the point that she’d expanded into other areas, formed networks, and knew something about people impressed Daisy before she’d even seen a single photo. And Daisy suspected, if Bobbi had chosen Hunter not only as her husband but business partner, he must be good at his part as well to earn that smug look on his face as he glanced around the room searching for more couples to introduce themselves to. 

Nadia made her way over to their table. “How are we doing, Daisy and Carol? I see you’ve met my friends, Bobbi and Hunter?”

“They were just telling us about their business,” Carol informed her. “Also, I have to tell you, I love this pasta.” 

“And the chicken,” Daisy reminded her. “We have to have the chicken.” 

Nadia got out her notepad. “Okay, so that’s a dinner menu then, we’ve decided?” 

Bobbi spoke up. “Definitely do dinner. Hors d’oeuvres are great, but—no offense, Nadia—it’s easy for people to get skipped over or miss out on their favorites, or they feel like they are chasing plates around if you have wandering waiters.” 

Hunter added, “And if you do a buffet, people wonder why not just do the real food.”

Nadia said, “It’s up to you two, though, and time of day I know was still a question.” 

Daisy and Carol decided together silently, and Carol said aloud, “Dinner, for sure.” 

Nadia wrote down their picks from the menu and promised to follow up on Monday more formally. She called to one of her assistants, who brought them to-go bags of leftovers to take home. It was far too much food for the two of them, so they texted Jemma and Fitz to come over for dinner that night. 

—-------- 

After dinner that night, the four friends moved to the living room and settled in front of the TV after dinner. Daisy sat on the couch near the end table with her laptop and started it up. 

“Mmm wow,” Jemma groaned, “that pasta was so good but now I’m so full.” Fitz patted her hand as he settled in next to her on the couch. 

“Right?” Carol agreed as she set up the TV so Daisy could cast her laptop screen to it. Carol plopped into their Papasan chair and set a pillow on her lap so she could write their impressions of Bobbi and Hunter’s skills on her tablet.

“Ready!” Daisy said, navigating to Bobbi and Hunter’s website. She clicked on their wedding portfolio first and opened just one slideshow of many demonstrating their talents. “Ooo, I like that one.” 

Carol took note of the poses and ideas they oohed and ahhed over, as well as ones she or Daisy didn’t like or Jemma and Fitz warned against from experience just a year before. 

Daisy clicked on more slideshows—some with more creative shots and some more cliche—and they continued until they got to one with outdoor photos, including some at sunset, with two brides. 

“Ohhh,” Daisy exhaled as she paused on one. The sunbeams highlighting the couple’s silhouette were perfect. The couple touched foreheads, with one’s fingers entwined and loosely resting on the back of the other’s neck, and the other’s hands at her bride’s waist.

“Gorgeous,” Jemma said softly. 

Daisy looked over to Carol with hope shining in her eyes. They had to have one like this. 

“Already got it,” Carol confirmed. She squinted in thought. “Sun sets around 8 in June, so if we want it as a wedding shot, we would have to time it right.” 

Jemma reasoned, “Or, remember, we did wedding photos in advance. We didn’t want to have to worry about it the day of, and I didn’t mind if he saw me in the dress ahead of time.”

“I said it was bad luck.” Fitz shrugged. 

Daisy made a pshh sound. “The rain was a sign of good luck. Plus you’re both British, aren’t rainy wedding days sort of the standard where you’re from?” 

“Yes, but see, we live here now,” Fitz pointed out.

Jemma took his hand. “Rain the day of is all the more reason I’m glad we did them in advance.” 

Carol was still distracted by the photo on the TV. If she had a shot of Daisy and her like that, she’d have a print done for their bedroom. She could already picture where to put it on their wall. 

“Moving on,” Daisy announced. “Yes, we’ll try to get some shots with Bobbi and Hunter scheduled in advance.” She added that to her to-do list, which seemed to grow every time she took something off of it. 

Jemma pointed to the screen. “So it sounds like you’re decided then. You’ve got a photographer. And all the other things, yeah?”

Daisy worried her lip. It was a multipoint commitment—and not a cheap one. She caught Carol’s hopeful, subtle nod from across the room. They were doing this. 

“Yeah,” Daisy confirmed as she clicked through to the florals and decorations pages. She had to admit, Bobbi was good. “We’re doing this.” 

Jemma elbowed Fitz, who let out a little “ow!” of surprise. 

“Tell them,” she insisted. 

“Oh, alright,” Fitz sighed. “My cousin Deke is a deejay who does wedding receptions. If you’re looking for someone.” 

Jemma jumped in. “He was the one who deejayed ours, as you might remember, but he’s very popular. He’s probably done 100 since he started a few years ago.” 

Fitz added with a tone of derision, “He wants it to be his full-time job, and he dropped out of NYU to ‘build his business.’” He did air quotes around the last part. 

“Very successfully!” Jemma defended. “Fitz is just jealous. Deke sold his virtual reality simulator to a video game company so he doesn’t really need the work, but Fitz thinks he’s wasting his potential.” 

Fitz rubbed at his neck. “He’s also very … perky.”

Jemma translated, “He’s American and a bit enthusiastic, even for over here. But exactly who you’d want in a deejay.”

Daisy and Carol exchanged amused glances. Carol spoke up, “Sure, send us his contact info and we’ll get in touch.” 

Having a baker, a caterer, a menu, and leads on a photographer/decorator and now a deejay was a lot for a full day, but it also helped them feel like it was really happening. Their wedding was not just a dream but a real event they were hiring vendors for and making decisions about—decisions that would become their lifelong memories.  

#daisy johnson #carol danvers #aos #agents of shield #captain marvel #daisy x carol #carol x daisy #wlw #sapphic fic #femslash #lesbian carol danvers #bisexual daisy johnson #skywriting #wedding au #jemma simmons #leo fitz #fitzsimmons #bobbi morse #lance hunter

[moonlayl]

could be just me being aromantic again but I hate how fitz and jemma putting each other over the entire world is romantic and healthy. An obvious co-depenacy, plus, it's just... it's like they get to love each other so that makes it ok to be not only a shitty friend, but a shitty person. I'm not saying "he should have let Jemma die" but he can't apply that logic of "I love my friends and people around me so I did that" when it comes to what he did to daisy. Even in the framework, jemma does really dumb stuff for lOvE and THEN EXCUSES FITZ FOR HURTING DAISY LIKE THAT IN SEASON 5. it's so annoying. she just became "I love fitz" and like, nothing else after season 2 or early 3 ish. It's so painfully obvious that they put themselves above others. I know they "keep getting ripped apart" but that doesn't excuse shitty actions. they can be as annoying and sickeningly in love as they like and not hurt their friends, but after what happened in season 5, I'm just so tired of it. this wouldn't be acceptable if it was platonic so why does this romance get a pass?

Exactlyyyyy!

Listen, I am a sucker for the “in order to save the person I love (or the world), I endanger myself” trope, because the idea of not being able to handle the person you care about hurting, and wanting them to live on, or be safe, or the idea of wanting to save people, at the expense of yourself is, while absolutely heartbreaking, actually something decent??? And heroic? I mean it’s bad in the sense of “why do you have so little self worth?????“ but at the same time, it’s understanding that sometimes there’s something bigger than you, and you could help many people. It’s not always about not having self worth either. You can have a lot of self worth but still recognize that a movement, or a decision can be much bigger than yourself and could lead to a better life for many, even if it’s at your expense, which is just unfortunate and horrifying. This trope has so much room for angst and pain and love, and I’m obsessed with it.

But that’s the key part. It being at YOUR expense.

With fitzsimmons, it’s no longer about that. It’s suddenly, “actually I’m willing to risk EVERYONE ELSE” to have you. To save you.

THAT is what infuriates me and makes me seriously roll my eyes when they go through terrible things in the later seasons and I’m expected to…be upset? Sympathize?

Like…sorry but a guy willing to risk his entire team, and THE WHOLE WORLD, and a woman who’s entire character ends up revolving around this guy, who also ends up wiling to risk other people for their “happily ever after” or whatever, they’re just…not good people.

The amount of times it’s happened too…

Like starting in s3, every season one of them makes the a decision like that. In the later seasons, they both mage those decisions during separate occasions in the season.

I’m still not over s7 where half the team were literally murdered by Enoch, because he was programmed BY fitz and simmons to kill. Like if it hadn’t been for the time loop, their team could’ve been literally dead. And for what? To protect their daughter?

It makes no sense and I’ve spoken about it before. If the team had died, their daughter still wouldn’t have been safe because the chronicoms would’ve won and either destroyed earth, or changed the past so that she wouldn’t have existed in the first place. Like??? They were SO stupid in s7.

Don’t get me started on Fitz deciding that abandoning 7.9 billion people to the chronicom problem (that would’ve led them all to die or be enslaved) after HE organized for that issue to be brought to their doorstep, was a good idea. And then when the rest of the team are like??? We’re not going to abandon them to die?? He’s like “that decreases our chances of succeeding to 85%”

THOSE ARE HUMAN LIVES YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.

And Jemma in s6?

Daisy, Piper and Davis: “we’ve been in outer space for a year with hardly any leads. Davis has a baby son he never got to know, we should head back because we’re running low on resources, and if we stay here for much longer, we might not be able to get back”

Jemma: “well, even though Daisy is the leader of the mission and should be the one making the shots, and even though all of you have sacrificed a lot this past year to help ME, I’m going to spit on all of that and force you to accompany me further, despite our dwindling resources and all the risks, because I have a feeling I might find fitz, even though our journey has been useless so far.”

And it’s not until she’s drunk that she offers a ridiculously awful apology that Daisy accepts immediately.

She does the same in the framework. They all almost didn’t make it back to the real world, and almost DIED for good, because she once again, went against Daisy’s orders (it’s a pattern at this point, we should make a gif set. S4 vs s5 vs s6, simmons having zero respect for Daisy’s authority) for fitz.

It’s just frustrating.

To be fair though, while not the same, both Daisy and May did a similar thing at the end of s5 (which made me soo mad) but the difference I guess is that they did firmly believe Coulson would’ve been able to get to Talbot, and Robin, a girl who sees the future, implied Coulson was crucial to the whole “preventing the end of the world” thing. Still annoyed me.

Sorry for taking so long to reply anon. I hope you don’t mind me ranting lol. Thank you for sending in this ask!

#anti fitzsimmons #anti leopold fitz #anti jemma simmons #aos #aos meta #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #anon #layl.inbox

[brxkcnengineer]

I posted 998 times in 2022

5 posts created (1%)

993 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@biochemiist

@theresastargirl

@time-travel-muses

@brxkcnengineer

@rpmemes-galore

I tagged 997 of my posts in 2022

#[ she's biochem ; thread ] - 916 posts

#biochemiist - 916 posts

#[ verse ; away from shield ] - 865 posts

#[ thread ; first responders ] - 529 posts

#[ thread ; pianist au ] - 163 posts

#[ thread ; regency ] - 144 posts

#[ verse ; main ] - 55 posts

#[ managed to string three words together ; memes ] - 52 posts

#[ thread ; maveth ] - 51 posts

#[ thread ; starting over ] - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 59 characters

#[ who you really are; that’s not programming about fitz ]

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay but do I... Make an Eddie Munson RP blog..?

0 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

#4

@theresastargirl​ asked “Here, lean on me. I’ll support you.” from x

Fitz shifted his weight off his injured leg, hissing at the PAIN that ran through his veins before he took Ophelia’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you,” he said gently, his words quiet under his grimace of pain. “Christ, tha’ hurts...”

3 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

#3

@biochemiist​

To say that Fitz had lost track of TIME would be an understatement. Did time even exist anymore? Without the sun rising and falling, it was hard to tell. All he really knew anymore was dust and blue. Dust and blue and IT. It that lived in the shadows and the sandstorms and the dark moments.

It that whispered and tried its absolute damndest to lure him out and kill him, drive him insane just like it did to the others. 

There was nothing on this hellscape of a planet left. It was just Fitz. Just Fitz...

Until he heard her.

It wasn’t uncommon for It to use voices, to try and call for him and lure him out, but most of those voices had been men, but this... this voice was new. And it was close. Just above the trapdoor near the lake...

He watched her, sometimes, hidden in the reeds, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe It had gotten smarter and was trying something new... Either way, he had to catch It, to find out what It wanted.

So, he lured her over, tossing rocks at the reeds, the noise of it attracting her until she was standing right on top of the trapdoor. The moment she fell through, he ran, covering up the hole in trap again.

He’d made the cage ahead of time, all he had to do was tie the walls together. And judging by how heavily she -- It? -- was breathing, he had plenty of time to do that before she woke up again.

100 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

#2

@biochemiist​

Fitz had seen her come in before. The first time, she had been with another woman, the pair of them laughing and smiling, sipping wine at their table. She looked over in his direction from time to time, but it was only ever a passing glance, just looking at the art on the walls or the chandelier above his head. Maybe once she looked at him, just to see who was playing the piano, but he wasn’t sure. Regardless, he kept his head down and focused on the keys under his fingers.

She was back again about two weeks later. Her hair had been cut shorter, and her dress was the same as the one her friend had been wearing last time. Maybe they shared wardrobes, or something. Was that weird of him to notice?

It seemed like she was there for some sort of meeting, if the other fancily dressed people were anything to judge by, and the short conversations about what... seemed like business, maybe? Still, he focused on the keys, focused on the sheet music and the tablet in front of him.

The third time he saw her, it was in the corner of his right eye. She was talking to Hunter at the bar, and the pair of them kept nodding towards him. He tried to keep his focus on the composition he was playing, but a pop-up on his tablet alerted him that Hunter and this mystery woman were indeed talking about him, as Hunter had slyly texted him under the bar without ever breaking eye contact or conversation with the woman.

HUNTER: Incoming - lady wants to talk to you

Fitz blinked at his tablet and his mouth moved a little, no words or distinguishable sounds passing his lips. And, sure enough, the woman was walking towards his piano now, lingering near the rear leg as he played. She was still far enough away from him that she wouldn’t see his wheelchair, wouldn’t really notice the way he was sitting or that his head tilt wasn’t just a matter of him focusing.

He let his eyes flicker towards her, then back to his keyboard, and he nodded his head towards the sign propped up on the lid of the piano. PLEASE WAIT UNTIL I FINISH PLAYING THIS SONG TO MAKE A REQUEST.

326 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

@biochemiist​

Fitz had been working for the SHIELD 616 for just about two years. Becoming a firefighter hadn’t been his original plan for his life, but something about the team had just felt right, so he’d made the change from volunteer to full-time, and never looked back. Sure, it was dangerous, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes consider the what-ifs, but he liked his work, liked his team.

When one of the EMTs had left, having finished medical school and moved on to become a trauma doctor, there had been an open position. The fire captain, Coulson, and the paramedic captain, had interviewed people to fill Lincoln’s spot, though Fitz hadn’t had a chance to meet them until today.

It had been a relatively easy day, with the crew taking advantage of the gap between calls. Fitz was flat on his back on the creeper seat, only his feet sticking out from under the rig, when he heard a new voice call out a hesitant hello.

“Jus’ a second!” he called back, shifting his feet so he could push himself out from under the firetruck. He was sure that he looked a right mess, his hands greasy, his face, too. He was also sure that he’d have to change, his shirt dirty from being on the floor.

When he finally resurfaced from under the truck, he was immediately looking up at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she was wearing the EMT uniform. ( So she was Lincoln’s replacement, then. ) For a moment, Fitz couldn’t remember how to breathe, his mouth open slightly as he stared up at her, still flat on his back, covered in engine grease.

“... Hi.”

1,052 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[hangingfire]

For The Terror asks, would you please do Arctic, Captain, the C, and/or Erebus?

Finally getting around to the Terror Asks. It's been a week, lads.

arctic: how would you cope on a Victorian ship?

I am prone to motion sickness, so that immediately puts me at a major disadvantage. I gather that one adjusts after a while, but I'd probably spend the first week wanting to die. And that's before you even get to the other modern inconveniences. In short: poorly. This has not stopped me from wanting to sign up for one of those Tall Ship programs, though. At least nowadays we have Dramamine.

captain - who’s your favourite coldboy?

Harry Goodsir, no question. In the scene at the end of "Punished, As a Boy", when you see him start to question his unthinking assumptions for what is probably the first time in his life, whilst also genuinely trying to be nice to this poor woman surrounded by stupid white men: that was the moment I said to myself, "ah yes, this one is mine."

And as luck would have it, he's also one of the cold boys whose real-life analogue is actually rather well-documented, and everything I've learned about that guy has also been tremendously endearing. His own father dragging him gently for his spelling. The fact that he calls things like microscopic crab bits "extremely beautiful". His fussing over his attempts to acquire a dog for Erebus. The fact that he seems to have been one of those people whose enthusiasm for his hyperfixations actually tows other people along with him. Delightful.

the c - do you create art or writing about the terror?

Indeed I do. Can't believe how long I've been on this bullshit, to be perfectly honest, but here we are.

erebus - what scenes are your favourite and least favourite from the show

Favorites:

"You are the worst kind of second!" Every time I've convinced someone to watch this show and they do, I know when they've hit this scene because I get some kind of message like "oh my god, fuck this Franklin guy". LOL. Just wait.

"We've come here to find a way through to China and India." Just watch this poor little muffin realize, as he's saying it, that 1. it sounded better in his head and 2. shit, this is actually ... stupid?

"Does that really work with anyone, Mr. Hickey?" Not just the sass, but also Hickey's little "eh, it's a fair cop, asshole" shrug as he walks away.

"And once it's past all hope, the mind goes unnatural with thoughts." Just a great character moment for Fitzjames and Blanky—Fitz for how he asks the question in the first place, and considers his implications (the boy is a good leader, actually), and Blanky for being, well, Blanky.

"Twenty. I have performed on twenty." Goodsir vs. Hickey. Morals vs. practicals. Class warfare. This scene has it all.

"Is God here Captain? Any God? It doesn't matter. This place is beautiful to me, even now. To see it, with eyes as a child's. There is wonder here, Captain. And her. Do you Do you think she's still alive?" Is it a day ending in Y? Then it's a day I'm thinking about this scene at least once.

Least favorite: It's not so much scenes as little things I kind of wish had been a bit different. I'd have liked Silna's father and the hunter to have had names, and to have spent some more time getting to know them. A little more breathing room for relationships between some of the characters to develop. The fact that we don't get even a bit of one of my favorite scenes in the novel, Goodsir's "how to do a cannibalism" speech. The truth is, I have remarkably little to complain about with this show.

#the terror amc #Q&A

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty-three

Word count: 2.6k

Tw: none I think

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @stuff-is-way

On Ao3 or below the cut!

    The next day, it’s another slow start until what happened yesterday manifests itself in my consciousness. 

    And, no, I don’t mean how Rex decided it would be fun to create a computer program with the most annoying sound effects in the Scratch library. 

    I have to check my texting history to make sure it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. 

   Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to be, because I can see his text asking if he can come over and talk from yesterday, so I send him a text, Assuming I didn’t fabricate yesterday in my mind, do you want to come over here and watch a Disney movie with me?

   When were you thinking?

   Whenever you want to escape.

   I know you’re not really a morning person, but would right now work?

   Give me at least fifteen minutes to get dressed and attempt to remember how to function. Because functioning is difficult. 

    I’m going to be sitting in front of your front door until you come find me.

    Have fun with that.

    It’s more like ten minutes before I feel ready for human interaction, and as I’m heading downstairs, I send Fitz another text, If you’re outside will you at least knock on the door. I don’t want to open it for no reason.

    He knocks on the door, and I open it. 

    Well. He’s still handsome. Like that would ever be in question. 

    It’s at least nice to know he looks slightly less exhausted. 

    “Hey,” I say, creatively. 

    “Hey.”

    It takes a second where I’m not really sure what to say before asking, “Movie time?”

    He nods. “Movie time.”

    As we’re walking up the stairs, he asks, “Have you picked out the movie?”

    “Shockingly, yes. And I’ve got a bit of a surprise.”

    If he could have expressed an ellipsis in actual speech without any words surrounding it, now would have been a good time to use it.

    “Don’t be scared.”

    “See, that’s exactly what makes me nervous.”

    I open my door that I close on instinct whenever I leave, and he doesn’t notice the new gadget in there. Made from other stuff that’s been lying around here for who knows how long. 

    “Your room looks the exact same…”

    “Fair. But I have repurposed a few things to make a projector. That thing is new.”

    I point to the projector, which looks like every other pile of scrap materials, now that I think about it. 

    “I mean, most of the parts were in here, so they’re not exactly new. But you get the idea. I’ve done a few preliminary tests on my wall as a screen. Also. I’ve got popcorn.”

    I give him a second before sighing and asking, “You’re not even going to ask?”

    “I’ve just learned to accept that I won’t understand half of what you say and I don’t want to seem like a clueless dolt, asking you to define every single word ever.”

    “I had a popcorn definition ready,” I mutter. 

    “Was it throwing it at me? I feel like it involved throwing it at me.”

    Yes. 

    “Well now you don’t get to know because you didn’t ask.”

    Refusing to argue with me, or maybe just not caring enough, he sits down on the edge of my bed. 

    I fiddle with my mildly buggy projector, having to use Fitz’s technopathic method of hitting the thing until it works to make it function. 

    While I’m working, Fitz asks, “So what did you pick out for us to watch and why?”

    “I’m not telling you and I’ve got my reasons. Just know I may end up singing along.”

    “Your singing isn’t as bad as you think.”

    “How would you know that?”

    “One day I walked in on you singing along to something. This was over a month and a half ago, for reference.”

    “It must’ve been bad enough to make an impression, then.”

    “No, it wasn’t.”

    “You remember it, so it must’ve made some impression.”

    “When I interrupted you, you nearly punched me in the stomach. That made an impression. It all just got stored together.”

    “Sorry,” I mumble. “I’ll tell you this much. It’s a Disney movie. Not even technically Disney because it’s Pixar and Disney owns Pixar.”

    “Do non-Disney movies actually exist? What even is a Disney?”

    “I’m a Dizznee and if we don’t acknowledge other movies, then they don’t exist. What else could you need? Other than the Percy Jackson movies have been collectively disowned, of course.”

    The projector turns on and I narrowly avoid a happy dance, before sitting on the opposite side of the bed. 

    Messing with him, I ask, “Do you want to watch it in Spanish?”

    “Please no. I struggle with English enough as it is.”

    I choose English, and The Little Mermaid starts. 

    I can sense “Part of Your World” approaching before the music starts.

    I’m fully aware I’m getting way too into the song and mouthing along aggressively.

    Fitz totally has the look of, ‘Hey, wait a minute...these lyrics sound a little bit like someone I know who happens to be watching this movie with me.’

    And he’d be correct. 

    By the time the reprise rolls around, he must suspect that he’s basically Prince Eric if, you know, Eric was realistically tan. He spends a lot of time sailing, especially considering it’s in a Mediterranean climate. He would not be so pale. 

    It also happens that we’ve slowly been scooting towards each other, despite my efforts making a projector so we can both see, because the edge of the bed isn’t as comfortable as the middle.

    The combination of all of these factors makes me, for some unknown reason, rest my head against his shoulder just long enough to realize that maybe I shouldn’t have. 

    On the other hand, to avoid giving the impression that now I’m the one running away, I tense up on instinct and decide to see how he reacts. 

    He looks at me, and I essentially melt under his gaze. Tucking an arm around me, he tilts his head so now it’s resting on mine.

    My thoughts are a jumbled mess of swear words and gay panic.

    But I can’t stay like this for long. Because Ursula is calling. 

    I have a habit of doing this thing when I’m mouthing the words that I like to call ‘whisper-singing’ which isn’t an official term to my knowledge.

    It mostly describes itself, and it’s very good at turning into full-out singing. 

    Hint, hint, wink, wink. 

    I almost made it through. 

    But my favorite part, where Ursula says, “Flotsam, jetsam, now I’ve got her boys. The boss is on a roll. This poor unfortunate soul,” I wasn’t quite able to resist. 

    And, naturally, I went with it because I have no common sense. 

    When I realize, I whisper, “Sorry. That was right in your ear.”

    “Listen to the octopus lady and keep singing.”

    That sounds like something I’d say. That’s just a little scary. 

    A movie-day later, it’s the last actual song in The Little Mermaid, aside from the credits which don’t count, “Kiss the Girl.”

    A bit on the nose, I’m aware. 

    I end up doing the same thing as during “Poor Unfortunate Souls,” but faster.

    At least Fitz physically flinches when the boat is capsized. 

    Having no more actual music, and trying to keep the commentary down, I survive the rest of the movie without more interruption.

    My own interruption. 

    “I see why you picked this one,” Fitz remarks as the credits start rolling. 

    “I mean, yeah, the fact that I’m basically Ariel was half of my reasoning, and exactly why we didn’t watch it earlier. I didn’t need her to sing her way into unraveling everything I’d been hiding. But the other reason was when I was going down a Wikipedia rabbit hole when I found something interesting. So Howard Ashman was the lyricist for Beauty and the Beast, some songs in Aladdin, and, of course, The Little Mermaid.”

    “You say ‘of course’ like I knew that.”

    “His name was just on screen, but I wouldn’t have brought him up if he didn’t work on this. Anyway, he was gay. And, honestly, I figured that was perfect for a first-time- out-of-the-closet-movie-night-but-it’s-two-in-the-afternoon.

    “That sounds...very platonic and unnecessarily long.”

    “I didn’t want to assume anything and make it go too fast.”

    “So don’t assume. Do you want to be a--dare I say it--date?”

    “Taking all of the available information into account, from where I’m currently sitting, to yesterday’s conversation that I’m not entirely sure existed, I would say yes, I would consider this a date.”

    “That doesn’t answer my question. Do you want this to be a date? Not would you consider it a date?”

    “I would say yes under the pretense that you’d want it to fall under the date category too. I’ve been planning this for longer than I’d like to admit.”

    Although I haven’t planned our wedding. Gonna leave that to Biana and Keefe.

    “Why wouldn’t you think I wouldn’t want this to fall under the date category, as you called it? I think I was pretty clear yesterday. I want to see where this goes, even as it dives off a cliff. At least then I can say that I gave it a shot before crawling back under the rock under which I live.”

    Softly, he kisses my forehead and I melt. 

    Attempting to make my brain resolidify, I say, “...I’ve picked out our next movie if you let me escape.”

    “Hmm...no,” Fitz replies, moving his arm to let me move. 

    Hercules was my next one on the list and I’m going to forget the original myth if I wait too long to watch it, even if I don’t know the songs’ lyrics by heart. 

    I turn off the credits and switch it to Hercules before sitting back down, saying, “Time to argue with a Disney movie!”

    Not even a minute into playing the movie, I mutter, “Well, that’s already wrong.”

    Sighing, Fitz wonders, “Should I even ask?”

    I pause it to explain. “They’re in Ancient Greece. Hercules was the Roman form of Heracles, although his real name was either Alcides or Alcaeus depending on whom you ask.”

    “Did you just say ‘whom’ unironically?”

    “Indeed I did. Let’s see how much worse this can get.”

    Unpausing the movie, it takes a mere seventeen seconds for another problem to pop up.

    “There’s nine muses. Not five. I know how numbers work.”

   “Do you, though?” Fitz asks, solely to argue with me. 

    Thirty more seconds pass. 

    “The titans were typically depicted as humanoid, just bigger. The titans Kronos and Rhea were the parents of the original gods. Including Zeus.”

   It’s only twenty-five seconds later that I audibly gasp at the audacity. 

    “‘On his own?’” I screech. “I think not. What about his siblings, huh? What about the other Titans that sided with them? Do you even care?”

     It’s a whole minute before I have to ask, “Why would Orpheus have done the arrangement? He’s good with music. Not flowers. Demeter or Persephone should’ve done the flowers.”

    Thirty seconds. 

    “Wait. Is that supposed to be Hera? Or Aphrodite? Because if that’s Hera, she’s not his mother. He’s a demigod for a reason. One mortal parent, one immortal parent. Zeus, to be specific. But I guess showing him cheating on his wife every other day just isn’t very Disney. And what about his twin brother? Well, half-brother. They did have different fathers--.”

    I don’t even have time to finish that rant before another problem manifests itself. 

   “Pegasus is Medusa and Poseidon’s kid!”

    It’s been five minutes since it started, and my head is in my hands. 

    And yet, there’s still more. 

    “Why does everyone hate Hades? What’s your problem with the god of the Underworld? He’s not even the god of Death. That’s Thanatos. Hera should be the antagonist of this thing. She’s the one that tried to kill him as a baby, but I guess it’s justified to blame Hades because she’s Hercules’s ‘mother’ and he’s creepy. He’s the least bad, which doesn’t say much considering he kidnapped his wife, but it’s not as bad as Zeus! He’s cheating on Hera every two minutes!”

   Maybe fifteen seconds later and something else becomes a problem. 

   “This is the most pedantic thing so far, but Zeus didn’t give him the realm of the Underworld. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades basically drew straws for control of the sky, seas, and Underworld. 

    I let a few minutes pass without commentary, and Fitz asks, “Has it gotten better?”

    “No, not in the slightest. I’ve given up hope. There’s so much that doesn’t match the original myth. I know there can be some variation between different versions, but, gods, this is not Heracles.”

    “That’s because it’s Hercules...Maybe think of it like it’s a different myth about a different guy with a surprisingly similar name.”

    “Well, that is Ancient Greek names for you. Theia and Themis and Thetis. And like half of everyone else’s names start with ‘Eury’. It’s all one giant dumpster fire.”

    When we meet Megara, who will probably be the love interest becaus she shares a name with his first wife of four, I can’t stop myself from muttering, “Megara was murdered by Heracles because Hera made him go insane for a hot minute. That’s not generally recommended in a relationship.”

    Somewhere between then and when she walks into Eros’s statue’s arrow, I settle my head back on Fitz’s shoulder. 

    “It’s fake. It’s all fake. Anything romantic after this isn’t real. Eros’s arrow can make you fall in love with someone regardless of your true feelings. That’s literally the entire reason why he’s called a beast feared by the other gods in the myth of Psyche. Which inspired Beauty and the Beast.”

    “You have to at least give them some points for calling Hercules Wonderboy,” Fitz argues. 

    “Wonderboy, just let me be hugely pedantic. It won’t stop anytime soon.”

    He doesn’t reply, so I take that as a win and refocus my attention on the movie. 

    I have lots more commentary, I just don’t bother saying it out loud until the credits roll. Like how he was supposed to do ten great labors that turned into twelve. 

    “Well. With Hercules successfully ruined for you, do you want to start heading home and assess what damage has been done to your mallowmelt stash?”

    Fitz sighs, deflating below me. 

    “You didn’t ruin it. I actually appreciated knowing that everything I just saw was very much wrong. And watching you get all wound up about it was fun. But I guess I’m going to have to be getting home as much as I don’t want to go back there.”

    He lifts his arm just enough to let me slip away.

    “Bye?”

    “Bye. See you later. Unless you get eaten. Or the mallowmelt gains self-awareness and kidnaps you,” I reply. 

    Smiling, he gets up and leaves unceremoniously, waving as he walks out of my room. 

    I’d like to say that I wasn’t hoping for a little something as he left. Like a nice kiss on the cheek. But I refuse to confirm or deny that. 

    We’ll work up to that. Or we won’t. Either way, today was the third greatest day on record, after yesterday at second place and beating the triplets at Mario Kart in first. 

    It’s the simple things in life. 

    Like beating the absolute crap out of your siblings in a game with a well-placed banana peel.

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #dex is all of us who've read percy jackson watching the hercules movie #just saying #stars ​i project onto him so much

[dankusner]

Pat Fitzgerald’s lawsuit vs. Northwestern over the former football coach’s firing can continue, a judge rules

A judge denied Northwestern’s motion to dismiss former football coach Pat Fitzgerald’s $130 million lawsuit against the school claiming he was wrongly fired in the wake of a hazing scandal.

Cook County Circuit Judge Daniel Kubasiak ruled Tuesday that Fitzgerald made a strong enough argument to keep the case going. A trial is set for April 2025.

“As we set forth in announcing our complaint in October 2023, defendants’ actions have exacted terrible, immeasurable costs to coach Fitzgerald, his family and his career,” attorneys Dan Webb and Matthew Carter said in a statement. “As a result of that conduct, we had no choice but to file our complaint for breach of oral contract, breach of his employment contract, intentional infliction of emotional distress, defamation, false light and tortious interference with a business expectancy.”

A star linebacker at Northwestern in the 1990s, Fitzgerald was initially suspended for two weeks and then fired last year after 17 years as the Wildcats coach.

The school said he had a responsibility to know hazing was occurring and should have stopped it.

“We remain confident that the university acted appropriately in terminating coach Fitzgerald and we will vigorously defend our position in court,” Northwestern spokesman Jon Yates said in a statement.

The former player said he reported his experiences to the University in late November 2022.

He alleges that much of the team’s hazing centered around a practice dubbed “running,” which was used to punish team members, primarily freshman, for mistakes made on the field and in practice.

If a player was selected for “running,” the player who spoke to The Daily said, they would be restrained by a group of 8-10 upperclassmen dressed in various “Purge-like” masks, who would then begin “dry-humping” the victim in a dark locker room.

“It’s a shocking experience as a freshman to see your fellow freshman teammates get ran, but then you see everybody bystanding in the locker room,” the player said. “It’s just a really abrasive and barbaric culture that has permeated throughout that program for years on end now.”

The Daily obtained images of whiteboards labeled “Runsgiving” and “Shrek’s List,” containing a list of names indicating players that the player said needed to be “ran.”

The player said the tradition was especially common during training camp and around Thanksgiving and Christmas, which he said the team called “Runsgiving” and “Runsmas.”

“It’s done under this smoke and mirror of ‘oh, this is team bonding,’ but no, this is sexual abuse,” the player said.

According to the former player, team members allegedly identified players for “running” by clapping their hands above their heads around that player.

The practice, the player said, was known within the team as “the Shrek clap.”

The Daily obtained a video of a player clapping his hands during a game, which the anonymous player said was the same motion taken to signify “running.”

According to the player who spoke with The Daily, Fitzgerald repeatedly made the signal during practices when players, specifically freshmen, made a mistake.

The player believes some players interpreted Fitzgerald making these signals as knowingly “encouraging” the hazing to continue.

“Everyone would just be looking at each other and be like ‘bro, Fitz knows about this,’ because you wouldn’t take that action otherwise,” the player said. “Everyone joins in, because he’s the head coach.”

The second player who spoke to The Daily, who also asked to be anonymous in this story, said he also witnessed these actions occurring.

After receiving the hazing reports, NU hired an independent law firm, ArentFox Schiff, to investigate the claims.

Lead investigator Maggie Hickey, former inspector general of Illinois, interviewed coaches, staff, and current and former players, and reviewed thousands of documents, according to a news release by the University.

According to the release, Hickey’s investigation revealed that while current and former players “varied on their perspective” regarding the conduct, the whistleblower’s claims were “largely supported by evidence.”

Participation in or knowledge of these hazing activities, which were not detailed in the summary, was “widespread” across NU football players, the investigation found.

University spokesperson Jon Yates declined to comment on the specific details of the allegations.

“Our first priority is to support and protect our students, including… all student-athletes who had the courage to come forward in this independent investigation. That is why the University immediately opened this investigation upon learning of the allegations and why we took decisive action once we ascertained the facts,” Yates wrote in an email to The Daily. “Out of respect for the privacy of our student-athletes, we will not comment about the findings beyond what we stated in the release and executive summary of the investigation.”

After the investigation concluded, the University placed Fitzgerald on unpaid suspension for two weeks.

After NU announced Fitzgerald’s unpaid leave of absence, the coach said that he was “very disappointed” and was “not aware of the alleged incidents.”

In a statement emailed to NU community members Saturday night, University President Michael Schill said that he believes he “may have erred in weighing the appropriate sanction for Coach Fitzgerald.”

Schill said that he would engage with NU leaders in the coming days to further consider Fitzgerald’s punishment and keep the community aware of any developments.

“Coach Fitzgerald is not only responsible for what happens within the program but also must take great care to uphold our institutional commitment to the student experience and our priority to ensure all students — undergraduate and graduate — can thrive,” Schill wrote in the statement. “Clearly, he failed to uphold that commitment, and I failed to sufficiently consider that failure in levying a sanction.

The University said in the executive summary of their investigation that while it did not find sufficient evidence to conclude that coaching staff knew about ongoing hazing activity, “there had been significant opportunities to discover and report the hazing conduct.”

The University also introduced additional sanctions against the team. Someone who does not report to the coaching staff is now required to monitor the locker room, and the team must end all practices at Camp Kenosha, a training camp location.

In addition to “running,” the whistleblower alleged that he witnessed the team participate in other hazing traditions in which freshmen were forced to strip naked and perform various acts, including bear crawling and slingshotting themselves across the floor with exercise bands.

In a once-a-year tradition dubbed “the carwash,” the first player said that some players would stand naked at the entrance to the showers and spin around, forcing those entering the showers to “basically (rub) up against a bare-naked man.”

Upon entering the showers, the player alleged that players set up a hose they connected to the shower to spray people.

“It’s extremely painful,” the player said.

The player also alleged that he witnessed and was forced to participate in what he called a naked center-quarterback exchange, wherein a freshman quarterback was forced to take an under-center snap from a freshman center, while both players were naked.

The player said that on one instance, another player was “very vocally adamant” about not wanting to participate in this exchange.

Older players threatened to “run him” if he refused and there was “no other option,” according to the player.

“He was forced to engage in this,” the player said. “I wish I would have told him to transfer, because this is an absolutely abusive environment, and an environment in which the safety and well-being of players is not protected at all.”

The second player confirmed these allegations.

According to Northwestern’s definition of sexual misconduct, sexual assault, sexual exploitation, stalking, dating or domestic violence, and sexual harassment are all prohibited. These acts, the NU football player alleges, qualify under the university’s definition of sexual violations.

Other hazing practices that the player detailed to The Daily included a practice called “Gatorade shake challenges,” where teammates, often freshmen, were forced to drink as many Gatorade shakes as they could in a 10-minute period.

The player alleges that he has witnessed this practice on two separate occasions, and that he’s “never seen anyone not throw up” either during or after the challenges.

The second player said he also witnessed this tradition.

The player said that one of his friends was sick for “a number of days” after this event, and wasn’t able to eat much.

According to NU’s hazing policy, hazing is defined by any action taken “to produce mental, physical, or emotional discomfort; servitude; degradation; embarrassment; harassment; or ridicule for the purpose of initiation into, affiliation with, or admission to, or as a condition for continued membership in a group, team, or other organization, regardless of an individual’s willingness to participate.”

This policy prohibits, among other things, any physical abuse expected or inflicted on another person, sexual violations or other required, encouraged or expected sexual activity whether actual or simulated, engaging in degrading or humiliating games, activities, stunts or buffoonery, and requiring or compelling the consumption of liquid, food, drinks or other substances.

In an email to The Daily, Yates said that all incoming freshman and undergraduate transfers, including student athletes, are required to complete the Hazing 101 Prevention True Northwestern Dialogue.

As part of the onboarding experience for first-year and transfer student athletes, the athletics department administers anti-hazing education, Yates said.

Additionally, Yates said each sports program has biannual meetings with the athletics compliance staff and sports administration “to discuss hazing and its impact on the student experience.”

At these biannual meetings, the player who spoke to The Daily said the office described the hazing policy as a “no tolerance” policy.

After the meetings, the player alleges that upperclassmen would make threats to freshmen saying that “if anyone snitched, then Shrek would get you” in reference to the practice of “running.”

The player said that he saw some fellow players suffer mental consequences during and after the football season.

“I’ve had friends reach out to me in the middle of the night having very suicidal tendencies,” he said.

The player said that throughout the investigation, Hickey’s team and the Northwestern administration, outside of the athletics department, were “helpful.”

But, the player said that he doesn’t believe the sanctions levied against the program are enough, calling them a “slap on the wrist.” The player said he also does not feel that the University should keep confidential the details of the findings, calling the secrecy “extremely frustrating.”

“My goal in reporting these details is to shed light on the harsh severity of this program and just absolutely inhumane traditions and activities that go on in our program,” he said.

[thedcvilherself]

she was had been the perfect person to turn into his own personal fuck doll. she was young girl who has yet figured out who she really is in life. he can manipulate her with ease. he could turn her into someone who only craved him. looked to him for praise and approval. for her body to only be programmed to want one thing, and that was to be completely cock drunk by him. it didn’t take much to mold her into being this way. “oh i’m sure it’ll get bigger. it’ll get so full.” he smiled, his thumbs rolling at her nipples. he then dipped his head down to lick at her hard peaks, his tongue flicking against it before he latches onto her nipple, wetting it completely before teasing them with his teeth. “i think you’ll look perfect, honey. no need to worry.” he murmured against her perky tit as he massaged the other. fitzgerald knew she would absolutely stunning pregnant. can only imagine her tiny little body, round with his baby. “now, i think it’s time for grandpa to give you some more of his cum right now.” he slowly removed both plugs from her holes, his previous cum oozing all over his lap. “fuck, i’ll never get over watching my cum drip out of your pussy.” he licked his lips before unzipping his pants. he was already hard for her. he always is whenever she was around. fitz picked her up as he pushed his pants off before nestling himself right in between her messy folds. “now how about you show me just how much you want to get pregnant.”

there’s a breathy laughter falling from her lips as he leans downwards, a youthful embarrassment that she hasn’t quite lost brought forth when he grants attention to breasts that had been left on display, appreciating her in a way that no one had before. in fact, no one had ever granted her any sort of attention the way that fitzgerald had, making her feel seen and loved from the instant she had arrived at his home. it’s no wonder she was so easy manipulated, prancing around his property as little more than a doll for breeding and devoid of any thought that there was something wrong with it, his assurance that she’d look perfect only tangling her tighter into his web. gentle sighs of appreciation shift into a hum of agreement, hips lifting in order to allow him the room needed to remove the plugs, the action drawing trembling thighs and breaths out of her. “grandpa...” she whined softly, grinding downwards in search of any friction. it was odd, despite how painfully full she had felt moments before, her body was now at the opposite end of the spectrum, painfully empty without the plugs or cum to keep her filled as she should be. it's almost not fast enough that he’s freeing himself from the confines of his slacks, hardly getting the time to make his request before she’s lining herself with his hardened cock. “oh...” a moan eases from her as she eases downwards, the plug having kept her stretched to a degree, though walls are soon clamping as she works to take the whole of him. “it always feels so good, grandpa.” 

#[ marley ; threads ] #[ marley & fitzgerald ; threads ] #[ devouredher ; threads ] #[ devouredher ; thread 003 ]

[beeblackburn]

Top five plots you'd love to read out of Hobb. Back at you, but not necessarily Realm of the Elderlings. It can be just plots you would like to see Hobb tackle.

Thank you, @books-and-doodles! I wouldn't mind more Realm of the Elderlings sequels, to be honest. I really liked the Fitz and the Fool trilogy, warts and all. However, I’ll admit there’s only a handful of stories and places I’d like explored out of the setting from this point on, for one reason or another.

Hmmm. You know what? I’m having trouble trying to squeeze all my desired plots into one post. I’ll give a bonus top five, one for Realm of the Elderlings exclusively, and one for non-Realm of the Elderlings plots to tackle, then give a third list of top five that includes both.

Top 5 Realm of the Elderlings Plots

1. Post-F&F Chalcedean Low Fantasy - I wanted a book set in Chalced, no two ways about it, ever since Bee’s stint there in Assassin’s Fate. I would absolutely burn for an entire plot set there, full of depth of the city-centric changing of the times, especially given the inertia of the slave trade over there last we checked. Chalced has always been the Asshole State, and the least painted in nuances, so a cross-class multi-POV story dealing with Chassim’s efforts to de-thread her state’s misogyny and the reconstruction efforts after Rain Wild Chronicles’ conclusion? 👌👌👌 

It would help continue the thematic running line in her non-Fitz series of slavery and a woman’s place in society, but complicate that with the physical rebuilding of a state and how we course-correct a recently-devastated society with all the tug-and-pull that presumes, rather than Hobb’s take on reinventing our sexual mores and a long-dead civilization until the dragons’ return in her prior non-Fitz series. 

I would at least want two male POVs, one of whom’s Chassim’s son, and another who’s lower-class, and two female POVs, one that’s on the lower end of the class spectrum and another that’s one of the noble ladies inspired by Chassim’s poetry, likely older. I gnashed a bit on whether I wanted Chassim’s heir to be a son or a daughter, but... I wouldn’t mind a male Chalcedean who isn’t dogshit with women, and I highly doubt Chassim doesn’t force her son to drink Respect Women juice. It’d be a refreshing change of pace, if nothing else. 

I’d also considered bringing Alaria back into the fold, maybe as Chassim’s advisor, because ho boy, her fate was pretty damn harrowing, and her integration into Chalced would be an interesting wrench, as a Clerres-raised Servant who has to deal with diaspora after what happened. 

2. Post-F&F Prilkop and his Whites Coming-of-Age - So, all cards on the table: I love the structure and concepts behind Clerres. An independent supernatural institution that banks on knowledge and fantastical elements to trade for mundane coin and political power? With an inner bureaucracy of servants, clerks, and interpreters? And a library? Let’s just say, before Rikke’s writing of her magic in The Age of Madness, I loved how prophecy was approached in Realm of the Elderlings. I’ve got ideas of my own spin on an extraordinary institution that deals in the grit and grounded concerns of the mundane world.

But keeping to Realm of the Elderlings, all that just makes me sad for how Clerres’ youth were just very wrapped around a goddamn cult, full of selfish idols and overseers who used them for their petty goals and moods. Clerres was just a bastard-making factory that shits out bastards and zealots and victims through its breeding programs and its abusive parental figures. It just makes me sober that these punks never had a healthy or positive role model in their lives and how much better they could’ve been, if they were separated from their indoctrinating environment, and given support. It ends up reminding me of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’s Hordak and how much better he was from just Entrapta teaching him self-love, after decades of belonging to a cult.

(I have feelings about cult survivors who were indoctrinated from birth and needed a better positive role model to break out of their learnings. 😭)

Which is why I’m very curious on how Prilkop’s going to reinvent Clerres after what happened. I don’t see him indulging in the same horrorific practices as the Four did, but the dude has his flaws and some rose-tinted lens on what Clerres was and could be, and it doesn’t help that the survivors are going to have to deal with the ravages and scars afterwards. Prilkop’s going to have to deal with a whole generation of traumatized Whites, some likely children, along with his own shit, and that’s going to be an interesting transitionary period for Clerres and the Servants. I’m definitely interested in reading about a small magical community, full of traumatized genderfluid wizards, trying to rebuild from the ashes of a tragedy, especially from the coming-of-age lens of a young lurik.

But yeah, get Hobb’s on the phone, because I have a need.

Is there fanfiction on that? I would definitely enjoy reading something like this. Hell, if I had the writing skills, I’d consider writing it myself.

3. Patience’s pre-The Farseer Life - I’m actually not hugely hot on prequels, generally, because they either rob the mystery of what happened and don’t give a satisfying glimpse into the past, or lose all narrative tension because you already know the end result from the get-go and the characterization isn’t good enough to make the inevitable compelling.

That being said, come on, it’s Patience. She’s easily one of Hobb’s best women, quirky and clever, prone to self-absorption and self-loathing, a little resentful, but very brave, and skips to the beat of her own drum. Just the hints that we get in Fool’s Assassin about her pre-The Farseer life were illuminating bits of her relationship with Chivalry, but I’d absolutely love to see how she took to Burrich in their youth, and especially how she and Lacey met, and how the latter gave her utter loyalty to the former.

Hobb is a great enough character writer and excellent at giving life to the smaller details that reading this prequel would be nothing less than a treat. And it would be fascinating to see how Hobb handles Patience’s neurodivergence here, whether as a POV and/or through another’s eyes, and how the court treated her then.

4. Kelsingra-Centered Rain Wild Chronicles Sequel - There’s some fertile ground for the next generation of Kelsingra Keepers, both in terms of establishing new blood, different from the past generation (I wouldn’t mind reading more about Hobb’s experiments in gender/sexuality representation, as misguided and heteronormative as it can get, because Sedric Meldar was real good) or being reactions to the past generation and noting how fucked-up the dynamics there are (looking at you, Malta and Reyn, Thymara and Tats, and Sylvie and Harrikin!) 

Basically, the fresh faces would be a good opportunity for Hobb to critique her own more uncritically problematic material via the lens of millennials realizing that their boomer parents are full of and had their own shit, and charting their own path in response. And it would be interesting to get a slice-of-life or more urbanized look into Kelsingra when it’ll start to have children thriving in it, rather than a bunch of horny teenagers and a handful of horny adults struggling to figure out how to discover and rebuild a dead civilization, especially in light of the arrangements made in Assassin’s Fate. 

Also, there’s a potent idea in the premise that Kelsingra is technically a queer-friendly paradise full of dragons. I mean, how has the fandom not written countless fanfics on that premise alone. Unless y’all are keeping them from me.

Do I believe Hobb would write this well? Ehhh. I mean, given her traditionalist values, it’s going to be a hell of a mess, especially with Rain Wild Chronicles’ handling of its transgressive mores. But I’m game for any experiment she does, and it’ll, at least, be a fascinating mess, if nothing else. And it’d be another case example for me on what not to do with my own fantasies.

5. Community-focused Pastoral in the Six Duchies - I love Fool’s Assassin‘s domestic slice-of-life sections and Hobb’s clearly enjoys writing about the countryside. And while one can argue that Fitz’s pastoral bits should be enough for me, I actually like the idea of localizing an entire story in a sizable town, going through the changes in the Six Duchies, because, just from Fitz’s eyes, a lot of new technological imports and shifting societal attitudes came in from new ruling influences and the Old Bloods' treatment changing from top-to-bottom, respectively.

Here’s the thing about Fitz with talking about the changes: he’s very insular and reactionary about the changes, and his lens is very focused onto how the Six Duchies he knew is now different to this unfamiliar world he’s adrift from. And he generally keeps to himself and usually lacks a lens from the ground level, so he’s less attuned to how the commonfolk of the Six Duchies are adjusting to these shifting times. So, I wouldn’t mind a more common perspective on the comings-and-goings of a country town and how they addresses or resist the changes in the Six Duchies, dealing with small-town gossip, working in the farms and fields, attending to marketplaces and illnesses, organizing communal social gatherings, maybe dealing with the rare lord, tax collector, gaggle of Old Bloods, and/or foreigners wanting to settle there. Or a familiar townsperson being revealed as an Old Blood and all the reactions from that.

Basically, I want Hobb to write her Middlemarch. Now.

Honorable mention - Bee’s Travels - Bee was absolutely one of the best parts of the last trilogy, and I would be happy to read her travels, but I would prefer other stories before hers. She’s got tons of potential, but there are other territories that would require more focus and attention first.

Top 5 Non-Realm of the Elderlings Plots

1. Coming-of-Age Urban Fantasy - I know she’s written Wizard of the Pigeons as Megan Lindholm, but that was at a very early of her writing career, it was her fourth ever novel! And from what I heard, Hobb’s inexperience really showed in having a vague metaphysical evil as the antagonist, amid the other idiosyncratic touches she gives to the subgenre. Weirdly, as much as the greater fantasy community slots her as a fierce master of epic fantasy, looking at her actual bibliography and scholarship done on her works, she’s technically a forerunner of urban fantasy, just like Emma Bull is.

But now she’s got 30+ years of writing experience under the belt, and can revisit the subgenre all over again. And, honestly, it’s Hobb. If she can’t make urban fantasy work, I’ll genuinely be unsure this subgenre has any hope for brilliance in it. I know she’s got a urban fantasy project cooked up, and I’m excited for that now!, but I wouldn’t mind a single-POV coming-of-age story about a special non-boy set in modern times. Less of the layered work of “is it real or magic” that Wizard of the Pigeons had, and go explicit on the supernatural roots of making them a changeling or a werewolf, struggling to define themselves beyond an Other in both sides of the world. I’m always game for more non-male werewolves and a changeling would be an interesting concept, given Bee’s character conception. And she would give us emotional investment by giving us a total shithead for an antagonist, so that’s always fun!

2. Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fantasy - Hobb really loves her ecological themes, and challenging the intrinsic worth of human life against those of nature’s kin. So a post-apocalyptic tale about how humans destroyed the Earth, and now nature and its creatures are thriving in the ruins of it, all through the eyes of a survivor who leaves a cloistered community to re-discovers the Earth once more with her own senses? It both sounds like something Hobb would be very interested in, and something that’d scratch my itch as a reader.

It’s going to be chockful of interiority, given how Assassin’s Quest was full of Fitz wandering about, us staying in his thoughts alone the entire time, but here walking among ruins, made from human hubris. We can have animals, non-human supernatural creatures of nature, and other fleshed-out humans, all of whom discussing the worth of a life and how the natural cycles will take us inevitably and how communities are shaped in the wake of shifting and violent circumstances. The nature of the world would lend nicely to Hobb’s brand of melancholy, but also she can balance out the potential violence of such a societal breakdown with moments of warmth and tenderness for me to care.

3. Post-War Medieval Psychological Horror - Hobb is one of the utter bests at depicting psychological consequences in her genre. She’s an unquestioned master at depicting the psyches of her characters, and how tightly they cling to their delusions, false impressions, and/or erratic moods. Meaning, she’d be perfect for a psychological horror situated during a superstitious period, full of war veterans coming back from a war between lords, and haunted by their regrets, their traumas, and the soldiers they’ve killed that won’t leave their memories.

Hobb has enough of a touch with the otherworldly and florid towards her world-building that she could further blur the lines of a war veteran protagonist’ visions, meaning what’s real or not? Would it matter? Hobb would have enough sympathy towards her protagonist that, regardless of the answer, she’d write them gently and considerate of their trauma, but she’d be experienced enough to avoid the easy trappings of her Wizard of the Pigeons set-up. And given how self-destructive Fitz can get... odds are, Hobb wouldn’t end the story in a purely happy place for the protagonist, especially given the trappings of horror.

4. Fairy Tale Retelling - Hobb has a melancholic voice, wistful and heavy, that she could bring a ton of gravity to a fairy tale retelling. I considered a few fairy tales, the standard of Beauty and the Beast (because I have a type), of course, Prince Lindworm (given her Elderlings), The Little Mermaid (because it fits with Hobb’s penchant for bittersweetness and het-romance, and its preoccupation with souls is interesting, given her work with the Wit), Bluebeard (because, given the obvious dangerous power dynamics and pedophilia involved, it’d either end with her having to confront the problematic premise directly... or she’d just say there’s only a problem with the murders involved).

In the end? I’d settled on a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. No romance, so no inherent opportunity for potential age gaps. The woods motif and wolf character could be interesting for her to tackle, given her own affinity for wolves and forests, the girl could be one of Hobb’s younger female protagonists, and the hunter could not be more tailor-made to fit someone like Burrich as a protector. And Hobb’s general villain pattern among her Realm of the Elderlings stories isn’t that the strangers are the ones you should be afraid of, it’s the domestic threats at the heart of your home. It’s the respectable assholes, the known charmers who hurt you with punching-down remarks, cutting barbs said with smiles, and a bone-deep need to control. There could be something for Hobb to unearth there, given the grandmother.

5. First Contact Science Fiction - One thing I really appreciate about Hobb is that her non-humans were satisfyingly alien. Being inside Tintaglia and Sintara’s heads, you just knew from the prose inside them that they were dragons and not humans wearing dragon costumes, their mental processes and priorities and functions very different from how humans think and feel. But, even then, they could be sympathetic beyond a human-centric lens, and you could even feel for them and their circumstances.

Meaning that I feel Hobb would kill at a first contact story that doesn’t immediately result in RAH WAR AMERICA RULES JUSTIFIED XENOPHOBIA YAH. I think she would be thoughtful and character-driven enough to approach this sort of story in a way that doesn’t easily bridge the gap between humans and aliens, but also doesn’t go the trite route of having violence as a first resort, establishing communication first. Plus, all she’d have to do is world-build the alien civilization, and Hobb is a pretty decent world-builder, all things considered.

Honorable mention - Dragons in Winterfell - Goddamnit, Hobb, I know you hate fanfiction, but if Martin pays you to write a post-canon story about the next generation of Starks hatching Vermax’s eggs in Winterfell and learning how to tend to the dragons without pre-knowledge of dragon lore, it wouldn’t be fanfiction, and I would die a very happy person.

Top 5 Hobb Plots Overall

Post-F&F Chalcedean Low Fantasy

Post-F&F Prilkop and his Whites Coming-of-Age

Coming-of-Age Urban Fantasy

Patience’s pre-The Farseer Life

Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fantasy

BRUH, AM I JUST GOING TO HAVE TO WRITE OUT ALL THE IDEAS I WANT HOBB TO DO MYSELF?

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Thank you again, @books-and-doodles! This was quite a bit of fun. 😊

#top 5 #robin hobb #megan lindholm #wizard of the pigeons #realm of the elderlings

[bookwyrminspiration]

Ok, so from what I'm getting, there are two or three major fanon versions of Fitz

1- Irredeemable asshole that only seeks to hurt Sophie in order to make himself happy, a selfish son of a bitch. Does not have one empathetic bone in his body

2- Tiny little baby man, perfectly put together. Doesn't have to try. Perfect tin every way possible and has the neatest hand writing imaginable. Oblivious. Presentable Gifted Kid™

3- A well prwesentable mess. Sleep? What's that? Goes to sleep at 2 am and gets up at 5 am. Lives off of coffee. Stress bakes. He spends 90% of his time studying to live up to the expectations. He is the group mom, people think he has a tiny room but that's just an appearance. When people leave the house it looks like a bomb just dropped. Sir please put down the coffee it is bad for you. Please take my hug. Please take a break. Adorable. Never learnt how to process his emotions so he drowns himself in honour programs and work to distract himself from his problems. Has the second messiest hand writing known to man, only second to Dex, but he makes sure that any work that he has to hand in is cleaned and trimmed to perfection. 12 am to 1 am is spent baking the days stress away. Never learnt how to socialise properly because he has spent his life as if he were an exhibition to be gawked at. Is a little baby man that needs to let loose and relax. Genuine Gifted Kid™

I'm sure you can tell which one is my favourite /srs /lh

-Heathen

Heathen! Hello! You know what that seems like a pretty solid summary of the different fanon versions of him, though of course given that this is fanon all of these version make him a moc of some kind. Desi is a fairly popular one, though just generally being brown is also common. I personally think of them as Mexican simply because I am, but the vackers being poc is nearly ubiquitous across fanon versions of him.

But back to Fitz specifically!

Yep, you nailed that one. I've observed that this is most common among young sokeefe (meaning under 13) shippers and is typically found on other sites. That's not to say everyone under 13 hates him or that you have to be under 13 to hate him or that it's not on tumblr at all, but it's definitely a lot less common among older fans on tumblr. This perspective seems to approach Fitz with the absolute worst faith possible and sees every action he takes as proof he doesn't care about anyone or anything and is a horrible person and therefore it's justified to not like him when really people are allowed to just say they don't like a character. It's like "Fitz sneezed when Sophie was talking which clearly means he doesn't respect what she has to say and doesn't pay attention to her at all. And all the 'bless yous he got?' so selfish, he doesn't care about anyone but himself." Like my dudes it was a sneeze (this is an example this hasn't actually happened)

ah yes, the overly fond affection that attempts to justify all of his actions. To be honest i haven't really seen that one a lot, but I feel like it's likely in response to the first one. Being online people absorb this idea that the characters you like are reflective of who you are so you have to like good characters, and so bad actions are excused/justified/shoved under the rug in denial of people's mistakes, or trying to make them not as big of a deal as they are. Just a thought tho! But yes I think he embodies the Presentable Gifted Kid vibe so well. This kind of portrayal of him I think is the one that makes him the sweetest, like just the super kid dork full of love and affection. Not that he isn't, but it's like dialed all the way up, you know?

This is the burnt out gay gifted kid whose life is coming crashing down around him but he's just trying to coast through it portrayal, which is endearing and also relatable. it takes the caring from before but also makes him an absolute mess, like he's just this guy /pos. He's falling apart at the seams but also loves his friends so much and doesn't know what to do with himself. I think he's one of the most common portrayals of him I see in this fandom, but that's just based off my memory and exposure to fics (and I don't read a lot of fic, ironically). Like I have nothing else to add you've absolutely nailed it. Stress baking? Never learned how to process emotions? Group mom? Check, check, and check!

There may be some other fanon portrayals of who he is, but I can't think of any off the top of my head. You seem to have it all covered! And you also seem to like the one most of the fandom likes, so that probably will make it a lot easier to find fic portrayals of him like that if that's something that suits your interest

I simply love him, your honor. Personally tend to stick to closer to canon portrayals, but sometimes it's fun to dabble in Fitz But He's A Little Fucked Up, Actually. He's just such a guy! Really is the character of all time <33

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #fitz vacker #quil's queries #heathen nonsie #another thing about fitz is that he's fucked up my ability to type the word fits #literally misspelled it fitz as I typed out that tag #I just default to his name now #no more fitting anywhere just fitzing #one day I'm going to submit a very important paper with the word fitz in it somewhere I just know it #but I cannot hold it against him because I simply love him #fitz and tam >>>> I love them #and also linh #those are like my three #I love everyone else but those three just have something about them... #my dad's favorite character is of course biana. I don't think my mom has a favorite tho she just likes to read the books #long post

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 124

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 7,320ish (I know... yikes)

Summary: Y/N tries to help Simmons and Daisy save Fitz, Mack, May, Director Mace, and Coulson. (Sorry, I hope it’s not too confusing as you read it. It’s a lot...)

“Okay… So… Let me get this straight…” Y/N’s mind was trying to comprehend everything that Simmons and Daisy had just told her. “Dr. Radcliffe created a Life Model Decoy—“

“LMD for short,” Simmons added.

“Right. He created an LMD of his computerized assistant… just saying that takes me back to Ultron.” A shiver went down her spine. “Anyway, and she went crazy, building more LMD’s to replace the team. She put those she replaced in what is called the Framework, some sort of computerized alternate universe where consciousnesses can live… Am I getting this right so far?”

“Yes,” Daisy nodded.

“And Aida, the crazy LMD, has replaced May, Coulson, Mack, the new Director, and Fitz. And to stop them, you blew up the base and now need to go into the Framework yourselves and pull the team out. Correct?”

“Basically.”

Y/N sighed, running a hand down her face. She was still dressed up for her date, standing in front of Simmons and Daisy who were both injured, with Yo-Yo standing beside them.

“Okay, where do you need me then?” Y/N asked.

“If we’re in there too long, our bodies will… give out,” Daisy said.

“Well, that’s the hypothesis,” Simmons clarified.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Y/N exclaimed. “You guys want to go in there knowing your bodies might give out?!”

“We have to get our team back,” Daisy stated.

“I know but just… I’m going in.”

“No. You need to stay about here and—“

“And what? Watch over your bodies with Yo-Yo? No thanks. You’ll have a better shot with me in there.”

“Yes, but we need you out here,” Simmons said. “The Government won’t be far behind looking for us and you can help stall them.”

“You realize I’m a fugitive of the law, right?”

“Do you realize we found you with Tony?” Daisy retorted. “Isn’t he suppose to arrest you on site?”

Y/N clenched her jaw with a huff. “Fine. I’ll stay in the Zephyr. When do you need to go?”

“Now,” Simmons answered.

Y/N watched as Daisy and Simmons set up everything and connected themselves to the needed equipment.

“Meet at the rendezvous right away,” Daisy told Simmons and they both laid down. “That’s where I programmed the backdoor to get out.”

Y/N stood in between the two beds. “Listen, you two,” she said, trying to hide her worry. “Living in there too long may kill you, but dying in there will definitely kill you, so… just be careful.”

“Remember, Y/N and Yo-Yo,” Simmons started, “even if our vitals are going haywire, do not—“

“Do not pull you out or wake you up,” Yo-Yo finished. “We know. It will cook your brains like huevos rotos.”

“Cause permanent damage to the cerebral cortex, test.”

“Just promise me you’ll get our guys back, okay?”

“I promise.”

Y/N watched with bated breath as they hooked themselves up and seemingly feel asleep. Feeling around in both their minds, Y/N could tell they were in the Framework though. Now it was only a matter of time.

~~~

“They missed you,” Yo-You said. 

Y/N had changed and the two of them had been sitting in silence, watching their two friends, for who knows how long.

“I’ve missed them, too,” she replied. “I… I really didn’t want to leave.”

“They knew that. And they felt terrible for what had happened when you woke. They had many arguments with Director Mace about it.”

“I didn’t like that guy.”

“He grew on me,” Yo-Yo shrugged. She leaned back in her chair. “Where have you been?”

“I can’t say,” Y/N shook her head. 

“Understandable. They never stopped searching, you know?”

“I figured.”

“They actually caught sight of you once. In South Africa, I think.”

“They wouldn’t be the only ones. I was stupid for staying too long in one spot.” Y/N silently watched her unconscious friends for a moment. “I was going to say that I can’t imagine what’s going on in there, but I kinda can. Falling asleep, walking up in a new world. It’s how I got here.”

“Except they’re walking up to a demon world.”

“Truth,” Y/N chuckled. “Very true… Do we have any idea where the others might be kept at?”

“No.”

Y/N let herself comb over Yo-Yo’s thoughts briefly. “You and Mack, huh? That’s…”

“Interesting?”

“I was going to say exciting. The height difference must be a real challenge though.”

Yo-Yo laughed. “I don’t let it stop me.”

“Never thought you did.”

“And you and Stark?”

“It’s complicated. Especially now.”

“I can imagine.”

“Honestly, Yo-Yo, I don’t know if you can."

~~~

“Agent Rodriguez!” A woman came jogging up to Yo-Yo and Y/N, who were still watching over their friends. “Agent—“ She came to a halt. “Agent Rogers? I thought—well, you should be—“

“On the run. I know,” Y/N responded. “You are?”

“Agent Piper, ma’am.”

“And what seems to be the problem, Agent Piper?”

“We’re running out of power. Keeping them plugged in is draining the Zephyr faster than we thought.”

“Are we cloaked?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Y/N took a deep breath, thinking over the options. “It’s going to be risky but I need you to uncloak the Zephyr.”

“What?” Yo-Yo questioned. “You can’t be serious? They’ll see us.”

“Just trust me and do it, Agent Piper.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Agent Piper responded, heading back to the controls.

“And please stop with the ma’am, it’s annoying.”

“Are you sure about this?” Yo-Yo asked her.

“No. But if anyone tries to take this bird down, I’ll take them down first.”

~~~

“Zephyr’s got 24 hours till it runs out of power,” Agent Davis, a man, informed. 

“We can’t wait anymore,” Agent Piper chimed in. “We need to touch down and refuel.”

“Let’s not have this conversation again,” Yo-Yo said.

“Okay, we don’t know who we can trust at SHIELD and, the government, Talbot’s been trying to reach us. Maybe it’s time we talk to him.”

“Not an option,” Y/N said. “You’ve seen what they’re saying in the news. We’re lucky they haven’t shot us out of the sky. Not to mention that I’m on board and that if they turn off the Framework—“

“That thing’s draining all our power,” Agent Davis stated.

“Might be time we figure out a way to wake up Daisy and Simmons,” Piper suggested.

“Again, not an option,” Y/N argued. 

“We must find something else to turn off,” Yo-Yo said.

“We already shut off all non-essential functions,” Davis stated. “Including the heat and the cloaking.”

“Why haven’t they shot us from the sky yet?” Piper wondered. “We haven’t been cloaked for almost a day.”

“Because I’m cloaking us,” Y/N stated.

“What?” / “How?” / “You can do that?”

“I’ve never released the amount of power I’m releasing for this long of a time, so I really don’t know how much longer I can hold it for.” Y/N turned to Daisy and Simmons, nibbling at her thumb nail. “They’re taking too long though… I think I need to go in after them.”

“No!” Yo-Yo exclaimed. “If you’re what’s keeping us safe, then we need you conscious.”

“It’s still only a matter of time before we have to land and I can’t hold it anymore. I can get in there and pull them out.”

“You don’t even know where the duplicate of you is.”

“What makes this world different, Yo-Yo? Why is it different than ours?”

“Simmons said something about taking a regret away.”

“So everyone has one regret taken away?” Yo-Yo nodded. “Then I have a pretty good guess where I’ll be.”

“You have no way of knowing if your powers will work.”

“If it’s basically a replica of our world, then I’m pretty sure they will. Besides, I’m not an inhuman, my powers are from sources much more powerful than some stupid computerized world. Now hook me up, we’re running out of time.”

~~~

Y/N gasped as she woke, immediately taking in her surroundings. She was in a casket, in the ground, inside of the Framework. She wasn’t surprised at all to find herself there, there was only two things she ever regretted. This regret Y/N had was one she always kept to herself, for reasons as to not hurt the ones she loved. She took a deep breath.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered to herself. 

She put her hands on the top of the casket and focused. The purple energy quickly glowed from her hands, blasting forward to free her from the ground. She crawled out of the hole, analyzing her surroundings. Arlington Cemetery in Virginia, just outside of Washington DC. Looking down, she realized she was in an old, warn out, military uniform. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the headstone. Turning to look at it she wasn’t shocked to see what it said:

Y/N Rogers

July 4th, 1918 to November 1945

A Hero Of World War 2

A Champion For Women

“Okay,” she whispered to herself as she stood up, brushing herself off, “If I were SHIELD, where would I be?” 

Raking through her mind, it didn’t take long for her to come to a conclusion.

“The base.”

~~~

When Daisy woke up in the Framework, she was shocked to find out that here she was working for HYDRA, her powers weren’t active, she’s was still Skye, and that she was dating Grant Ward. HYDRA had taken over the world, SHIELD had fallen. Trying to find Simmons without the rest of HYDRA, she’s followed by Ward.

Simmons woke up in a mass grave of SHIELD agents, her Framework double having died in the fall of SHIELD. She eventually came across Coulson on her way to find Daisy. Here, Coulson’s a teacher teaching a HYDRA-approved curriculum that warns against the dangers of inhumans. Simmons tried to convince Coulson that he’s inside a virtual simulation, only to fail and have him call HYDRA on her.

When Daisy and Simmons finally met up, they tried to exit the Framework using a safeguard they created. They realized they were in over their heads in here and they needed back up. Unfortunately, Aida, the Director of HYDRA, blocked their way out. Ward then revealed himself to be a mole in HYDRA for the Resistance, out to protect Daisy since she’s inhuman.

On the run from a HYDRA attack, Simmons explains what happened with Coulson. This caused Daisy to go visit him, where he remembered her name. Ward took Simmons and Coulson to the Resistance, though he wasn’t so sure to believe the story Daisy and Simmons were telling. The Resistance is the remnants of SHIELD, led by inhuman Director Mace. 

Daisy went back to HYDRA to find Radcliffe, hoping he could help them escape. But May, now a top HYDRA agent, gave her a new mission on the orders of Fitz, lead HYDRA scientist, and Aida, though she goes by Ophelia or Madame Hydra in the Framework. Daisy sent the information to Simmons on Radcliffe’s whereabouts before going with May to arrest Mack and his daughter Hope. May forced Mack to trick Daisy into confessing her true allegiance. Daisy gets placed in a cell and tortured. Mack, after him and his daughter are freed, joins the Resistance, having felt bad about what he did to Daisy.

Ward, Simmons, and Coulson find Radcliffe living in seclusion with Agnes Kitsworth, the woman he based Aida off of. Radcliffe explains that him and Agnes cannot leave the Framework since both of their real bodies have died. Fitz and Madame Hydra arrive. Radcliffe attempted to appeal to Fitz, though Fitz seemed to already know of the “other world” and believed that Radcliffe had enslaved Aida there. Fitz killed Agnes and takes Radcliffe as a prisoner, all while Ward, Simmons, and Coulson watch. 

Ward, Mace, and Coulson then infiltrate a HYDRA “Enlightenment Camp” to free an undercover agent, Antione Triplett. They are tracked there by May, who uses a super serum to fight Mace. Coulson attempts to save one of his former students who he sees being held in the camp. Mace followed him into the building to help free all the other kids. HYDRA brings the building down with a missile. Entering the rubble to ensure Mace is dead, she finds him stopping debris from crushing a student, with Coulson and Tripp helping other children escape. May is horrified to find children being victimized by HYDRA. With the others having escaped to safety, Mace is crushed beneath the debris, dying in both worlds.

Through the vents of their holding cells, Daisy learns from Radcliffe about a backdoor he installed to escape that Aida is unable to disable. Turning on HYDRA, May sneaks a terrigen crystal into Daisy’s cell so she can gain her abilities within the Framework. The two women work together to escape HYDRA, with Daisy using her abilities to break Ophelia’s back.

Ophelia insists that Fitz, her lover, complete the work on their secret project, Looking Glass, after which her Framework body will no longer matter. Fitz then, with his very much alive father, becomes the head of HYDRA.

~~~

Y/N knew that it wouldn’t be smart to just appear in the base, so she showed up at a known SHIELD meeting spot. Appearing, she saw May and Daisy get out of an old car.

“I saw the building collapse on him,” May stated, getting out of the car. “I have the body-cam footage to prove it.”

“A building collapsed on who?” Y/N asked, worried.

Daisy spun around. “Y/N?” She questioned.

“You were taking too long.” The two women rushed into a hug.

“We tried to get back out to get your help, but Aida—“

“Stopped you. I got it.”

The three women pressed themselves up against a storage container.

“That’s not possible,” May whispered, staring at Y/N. “You’re Y/N Rogers. You died in World War 2, in the plane crash.”

“That, let me guess, my brother survived,” she responded.

They heard a security drone whirring near them and they pressed themselves up further against the storage container. May glanced around the corner to see the drone fly away.

“This is our window,” May stated.

The three then walked around the corner, Daisy leading the way. They were all on high alert, two of them now being considered terrorists. Daisy knocked on the red door of the building. A man quickly appeared, gun out.

“Get out of here,” he ordered.

“Hey! Hey,” Daisy exclaimed, hands up in surrender. “We are friends of the Resistance.”

“I know who you are. There’s chatter all over the police hand.” The man kept switching who his gun was pointed out.

“We weren’t followed. We were careful.” Then tires screeching were heard.

“Not careful enough,” May said. 

Daisy and her quickly pulled out their guns. They took cover behind a trash can as those in the speeding car began shooting at them.

“Milkman, I have contact!” The man shouted into a walkie-talkie before getting shot down.

May and Daisy were firing back as Y/N pulled the man into the building.

“Come on!” She shouted. May followed.

“Incoming!” Daisy yelled, seeing a bomb thrown their way. She stood up and quaked it back into the car. She was shutting the door to the building as the car exploded.

“I’m going to be honest,” Y/N began, “I have not missed getting shot at.” Y/N began pushing large things in front of the door.

“He’s still breathing,” May said checking on the man. “But we’re gonna need to find another way to get out of here.”

“How long before HYDRA busts down the door?” Daisy asked.

“Not long. They’ll be following SOP for a hostile inhuman. Six teams to sweep the area. And if the hostile’s taken cover they’ll call in an air strike and sort through the rubble later.”

“Like what they did with the Patriot?”

“What I did. That air strike was on my order.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Doesn’t change what I did.”

“I’m sorry, who’s the Patriot?” Y/N asked.

“Director Mace,” Daisy answered.

“So, he’s…” Daisy nodded. “Oh, gosh.”

“May, you can’t blame yourself for their lies. Once you learned the truth, you fought back. That is what we need.”

“Daisy’s right. If more people see what you saw, they’ll probably start fighting back too.”

The three of you froze, hearing the HYDRA agents break down a door down the building. The three women hid, waiting for the agents to come to them. When they did, May jumped down on one from the ceiling, Daisy took one from the side, and Y/N appeared behind another, quickly knocking him out. The three HYDRA agents were quickly finished off.

“Three down,” Daisy whispered.

“Stop right there,” a HYDRA agent ordered, aiming at Daisy.

May and Daisy held their hands up, while Y/N’s hands slowly started glowing purple. Before any of them could do something, Mack showed up from the side, knocking the guy out with his guy.

“Mack?” Y/N and Daisy questioned. The three headed towards him only to freeze when he aimed his gun at May.

“Mack,” Daisy called.

“I’m here to help you,” Mack stated, “not the woman who held my daughter hostage.”

“May is the only reason I’m alive. She helped me escape. HYDRA messed with her head, but she’s fight back now.”

“How do you know she’s not lying?”

Coulson and a SHIELD agent ran in. Assessing the situation, Coulson stopped between May and Mack. Y/N was relieved to see her long time friend.

“Not a good time to be holding guns on our allies,” Coulson said.

“Alpha One, report in,” a HYDRA agent requested from outside. “What’s the situation down there?”

“We have to go, now.” Coulson slowly walked towards Mack. “Mack, I get it. These wounds don’t heal overnight. But for reasons I can’t fully explain, I trust this woman. And so should you.” Mack put the gun down.

“This place was originally build during the prohibition,” the SHIELD agent explained. “We have a secret tunnel out of here.”

“Lead the way,” Y/N said.

Mack grabbed the SHIELD agent from before and they all jogged towards the secret tunnel. Coulson moved so he was beside Y/N.

“Y/N? Right?” He questioned.

“You remember?” She asked.

“Little things. But you’re also known here. Not necessarily in a good light, but you are.”

“I’ve missed you, Phil.”

“Weirdly, I’ve missed you, too.”

“Y/N?” Daisy called. “Do you think you could just portal us there? It would be faster and safer.”

“And miss all this fun?” Y/N smirked. “You kidding?”

~~~

“Welcome to SHIELD,” Coulson said as the group walked into the base.

“So the secret base is the base,” Daisy said. “Probably should’ve guessed that.”

“I did,” Y/N said. “I just didn’t want to scare everyone.”

“Been looking for this place for years,” May said, looking around.

“I got to go find my little girl,” Mack stated, leaving.

“Thanks for your help,” Coulson said.

“Thank goodness you’re alright,” Ward said, coming towards them. “We’ve been combing the streets looking for you.” Y/N clenched her fists and they slowly began to glow purple.

“I can take care of myself,” Daisy responded.

“And you are?” Ward looked at you before noticing your hands. “And what are you doing?” He went to grab his gun but Daisy quickly stepped between the two of you.

“Woah, woah, woah.” She had her hands out. “Stop. Y/N,” she turned to her friend. “This is not the same Ward that shot you.”

“I shot you?” Ward repeated.

“Yeah,” Y/N responded. “I almost died.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Y/N…” Daisy called. “Calm down.” Y/N looked at her friend and nodding, powering down. “Now, you want to explain the purple hands?”

“It’s complicated,” Y/N answered.

“How about we go take a look at that body-cam footage,” Coulson suggested. “Could really hep the cause.” May and Coulson left, leaving Ward, Daisy, and Y/N.

“Y/N and I are gonna go talk to Simmons,” Daisy said.

“She and, uh, Agent Triplett are on a recon mission,” Ward said, stopping them.

“Tripp?” Y/N repeated.

“Mm-hmm.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in weeks,” Daisy smiled.

“What’d you need to talk to her about?”

“It’s not exactly—“

“She told me about the other world.”

“Ah.” Daisy nodded. “Right.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“Yeah. And I need you to trust me. I know a way for us to get back home.”

“By ‘us’, you don’t mean me.” Y/N stepped back, feeling the tension. “I guess I was holding out hope that Simmons was wrong and that you’d still be… the girl I knew… I’m glad you’re safe, Daisy.” Ward walked away.

“Well that was…. Weird,” Y/N said. “Do you want to tell me—“

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

~~~

Y/N and Daisy walked in as Coulson, Ward, and May had just finished the body cam footage of Mace’s death.

“Getting this footage out isn’t enough to make up for what I did in HYDRA,” May spoke up. “But it’s a start.”

“Changing people’s hearts and minds is great,” Daisy said. “But I know a way to destroy HYDRA for good. Remember the place Simmons and I were trying to find? Radcliffe told me where to go, how to find it.”

“The way out of this?” Coulson asked.

“Yes. If we can get there, all of our problems go away. We just— we need all the help we can get.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” May stated. “THere’s no magic bullet against HYDRA.”

“Yeah,” Ward agreed. “This footage is a close as it comes. I mean, people will finally wake up.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Daisy said. “None of this will matter in the long run. It’s— it’s… Coulson, this is the only chance to actually wake people up.”

“Maybe the only way to solve our problem,” Coulson replied, “is to solve their problem.”

“What does that mean?”

“Getting to Radcliffe’s coordinates right now is next to impossible. We need a way to divide HYDRA’s forces.”

“To save ourselves, we need to save the world,” Y/N said. “Well, I’m in. But I guess none of us really have a choice, do we?”

~~~

Using both Y/N’s and Daisy’s powers, a small SHIELD team broke into HYDRA’s broadcasting center. All their people hand their hands held up. Bakshi was sitting at his news anchor desk. Coulson, May, Y/N, and Daisy walked up to it.

“Heard you were looking for some enemies of the state,” Coulson commented.

Y/N and Daisy looked at each other with small grins. Coulson would always be Coulson, even if he didn’t remember everything. With a nod from Coulson, Y/N controlled all the people to stay in their seats. Ward tied Bakshi to his chair.

“Stay quiet and we won’t have a problem,” Ward warned Bakshi.

“May and Coulson are getting everything set,” Daisy told Ward and Y/N.

“We’re good to go out here. No one’s putting up a fight.”

“That’s because I told them not to,” Y/N explained. Ward looked at her, confused. “I have a variety of abilities. Just don’t plan on crossing me.”

“Yes, but we will,” Bakshi said. “If you think you can force me, Sunil Bakshi, to go on air and slander HYDRA, then you’re delusional. I am the most trusted voice in journalism—“ Daisy quaked him back so that he hit the wall behind him. “Just, uh, put it in the teleprompter, then.” Bakshi was scared.

“We don’t need you to say a damn thing,” Daisy said. “The facts will speak for themselves.”

~~~

Y/N waited by herself for Coulson to finishing filming his speech. She longed to know the truth about what happened to Steve, Bucky, and Tony in this Framework. She was just too afraid. With a sigh, she looked to the side and saw a HYDR computer. Y/N contemplated for a moment before finally giving in and searching.

Steven Grant Rogers

Born: July 4th, 1918

Died: December 6th, 2007

First super soldier created. Helped defeat HYDRA. After his sister, Y/N, crashed a plane in 1945, Rogers married Peggy Carter and helped found SHIELD.

James Buchanan Barnes

Born: March 10th, 1917

First HYDRA super soldier ever created. Alias is The Winter Soldier. Still in regular use. Currently under cryo. 

Anthony Edward Stark

Born: May 29th, 1970

Died: dated unknown, during the fall of SHIELD

Former CEO of Stark Industries. Son of Howard and Maria Stark. Died trying to stop the fall of SHIELD.

After reading everything, Y/N quickly turned off the screen. She wanted it get out of this hell whole faster now. This was not the place she longed to be. She met up with Ward, May, and Daisy, right before Coulson entered the room.

“Well,” he began with a breath, “that’s that.”

“Let’s get out of here,” May stated.

Coulson noticed that Ward’s gun was on the table and he knew that Ward was planning on staying. “The Patriot would’ve been proud of what we did today.” 

Ward and Coulson nodded to each other before Coulson walked out of the room, with Y/N following. May and Daisy were close behind. Ward began the broadcast, playing it on every screen.

~~~

Daisy stood by Y/N’s side as they watched the news from the base. Everyone in the room had their eyes on the screen. Madame Hydra had sent crews to take back control of the broadcast center. Y/N huffed as she watched people getting beat up by HYDRA agents.

“She’s not subtle, that Madama Hydra,” Daisy commented.

“Yeah, just look at her uniform,” an agent said from beside them. “It’s so crazy hot.” They both gave the guy a look. “I-I mean, if you’re into the whole ‘bad girl’ vibe. Not—not me. I’m just… making an observation.”

Just then, Tripp and Simmons walked into the room.

“Tripp,” both Daisy and Y/N gasped.

“It’s so good to see you!” Daisy laughed, pulling the man in for a hug.

“Hey… person I don’t know,” he said, hugging her back.

“Right.” Daisy immediately let go. “Yeah, sorry. I-I heard about your mission. Awesome job.”

“Thanks.” Tripp looked at Y/N, studying her. “I… do I know you.”

“You might have seen pictures,” Y/N responded, thinking back to the conversation she had with the real Tripp. That seemed like so long ago. “Y/N Rogers.” She held her hand out to shake his. “I worked with your Grandfather, Gabe. He was a—“

“Howling Commando.” He shook her hand. “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t you be dead?”

“Long story.” Y/N pulled her hand away.

“Tripp,” Simmons got his attention. “Do you mind if Daisy, Y/N, and I have a quick word?”

“Sure,” he agreed. He looked at Daisy. “You can finishing hugging me later.” He chuckled before walking away.

Simmons grabbed grabbed an arm from each of the other women, pulling them to the side.

“Aida’s building a body for herself in the real world,” Simmons stated quietly. “A human body.”

“She wants free will,” Daisy said.

“Which would allow her to unplug the Framework… killing us all.”

“Okay,” Daisy sighed. “We can still stop her. Radcliffe gave me the coordinates to the Framework’s back door.”

“Will it work?”

“According to him, all we have to do is pass through the exit point, and then our minds will disconnect from the Framework.”

“So we just need to get everyone there.”

“Which own’t be easy,” Y/N said, “with May and Mack having no idea what’s really happening.”

“Well, and Fitz had HYDRA guards around him at all times.” Y/N and Daisy shared a look. “What?”

“Simmons, we can’t reduce Fitz right now,” Daisy said. “There’s no time.”

“We can’t just leave him behind. He’s part of our team.”

“And the current head of HYDRA,” Y/N reminded them.

“The Fitz in this world wants all of us dead,” Daisy added.

“Guys—“

“I know that it’s not his fault, but that is the reality that we are living in. If we don’t get Coulson, May, and Mack out of here, Aida will kill all of them.”

“I can try to get Fitz, if the time is right,” Y/N offered. “But I can’t promise anything.” She shook her head slightly. “What I can promise is that we will find a way to get Fitz out once everyone’s safe. Okay?”

“Okay,” Simmons agreed quietly.

Daisy left quickly, realizing Mack was leaving. Y/N stayed by Simmons. 

“When did you even get here?” Simmons asked.

“When May and Daisy were escaping HYDRA,” Y/N answered. “The Zephyr is almost dead. You guys were taking too long, draining the power. I had to jump in to see if I could help.” 

“Thank you.”

~~~

Y/N found herself mindlessly watching Mack interact with Hope. She didn't even notice that she had been staring too long until Mack met her gaze. She looked away, trying to compose herself.

“Hey,” he greeted, walking up to her.

“Hey,” she replied. “Sorry about staring. I just… you two are a good pair.”

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, looking at Hope. “Have any kids of your own?”

“I… I should have… He… there was a big fight and I lost him before he was even born.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“

“It’s no problem. Really.” She waved him off. “I’m… it’s still a little fresh.”

“Did you, uh, pick out a name?”

“Anthony James, or AJ for short.”

“That’s nice.”

“It is.” She nodded. She looked at Hope, thinking about how Mack will after to leave her soon. Even though she’s not real. “Just.. Mack, don’t wast any second. Every moment is precious.”

~~~

Y/N met up with Daisy and Tripp in the Director’s office. They were leaning over a map.

“Okay, so, Radcliffe’s coordinates should put it right about here,” Daisy stated, drawing a circle on the map. “DO you think you can fly us there?”

“No problem,” Tripp agreed.

“Great.”

“But what’s with this team of yours? A HYDRA agent, a school teacher, and a dad? Looks pretty bad news hears to me.”

“Trust us, I think they’re up to the task,” Y/N replied.

“Does this have anything to do with that other world Simmons was talking about?”

“She told you?” Daisy questioned.

“What can I say? I’m easy to confide in.”

“Okay. Yeah, you, May, Mack, and Coulson were all apart of our team in the other world.”

“So that’s why you were so happy to see me.” He smirked. “You and I,” he pointed between Daisy and himself, “we must’ve, uh, you know—

“Dated?”

“Sure. We’ll go with that.”

“Uh, no. Sorry.”

“Right. Me and Simmons, we probably—“

“Nope.”

“Agent May?” Daisy shook her head. “Y/N?”

“Sorry, Tripp,” Y/N smiled.

“Damn. And this is really a place you two want to go back to?”

“Easy, playboy. Right now, we have to round up Simmons and the rest of the team.”

“Doubt she’s back yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought you two knew. Simmons left base an hour ago.”

“Where was she going?” Daisy asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s go ask Coulson and May,” Y/N suggested. “Maybe she told them.”

The two women rushed down to find May and Coulson walking the hallway.

“Do you know where Simmons went?” Daisy asked them.

“No, sorry,” Coulson responded.

“She went to find Alistair Fitz,” May replied, like it was no problem.

“What?” Daisy questioned. “Why didn’t you come and tell us?”

“Because I don’t answer to you. Not here or any other fantasy word you three might have cooked up.”

“You told her?” Y/N asked Coulson.

“It came up in conversation,” he shrugged.

“How does the existence of an alternate reality come up in a casual conversation?”

“I’d like to think it’s because we were bonding, though I don’t really want to speak for her.”

“You’re really not helping,” Daisy said.

“Don’t worry. Melinda here said she’d keep an open mind.” May sighed.

“We can’t leave without Simmons.”

“She knows how to stay off-radar,” May stated. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

~~~

The small team packed up the quinjet. And now the only person they were waiting for was Simmons.

“Hey,” Daisy went up to Tripp in the pilot’s seat. “We all good?”

“Ready when you are,” he replied.

“Yeah. We just can’t leave without her.”

Y/N was waiting at the end of the ramp. She was the first to notice Simmons.

“Jemma!” She exclaimed rushing towards her friend. “You okay?”

“I was trying to save Fitz,” she answered, clearly shaken up.

Daisy noticed blood on Simmons jacket. “Please tell me that’s not his blood,” Daisy pled.

“No. It’s… It’s from his father. I—I killed him.”

“That’s—that’s okay. Fitz’s dad is just an avatar. You didn’t kill anyone. You just made some ones and zeroes disappear.”

“But Fitz won’t come with us now. We’ve lost him.”

“No, we haven’t,” Y/N said, shaking her head. She rested her hands on her friends shoulders. “We will figure something out. But first, we have to get back to the real world before Aida makes us disappear. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Y/N and Daisy guided Simmons into the quinjet and Tripp took off.

~~~

The quinjet landed on the roof of a steel mill. Everyone armed up and headed out, leaving Tripp with the quinjet. May led the way into the mill.

“Just up ahead,” she stated.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Y/N said, cautiously surveying the area.

“Nothing about this disgusting world feels right,” Simmons stated. “It’s hell. A digital hell.”

“Radcliffe said the back door was in a public fountain, not some creepy steel mill.”

“If only the exit beacon I brought to this world worked, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Yeah, well, if we’re gonna get out of here,” Y/N said, “this is our last chance.”

“Found the location,” Coulson called to them.

They quickly followed him. He led them to a pool of molten steel.

“This can’t be it,” Daisy said.

“Uh, the coordinates lead right there,” May replied.

“Into a pool of molten steel?” Coulson wondered. “You think Radcliffe gave us bad info?”

“Radcliffe’s a prisoner at HYDRA,” Daisy said. “He’s got no reason to lie.”

“Maybe someone else found it and took it,” May suggested, getting annoyed.

“The back door is part of the Framework’s digital infrastructure. It can’t be moved.”

“But it could be concealed,” Y/N spoke up. “What if Madame HYDRA discovered the back door and built this place as a way to prevent people from passing through?”

“Wait a minute,” Mack interrupted, confused. “What is this back door everyone keeps talking about? I thought we were here to take out Madame Hydra.”

“Let me guess,” May started, “no one told you about the other world.”

“The other world? What?”

“So what does this mean for us?” Coulson asked, ignoring Mack and May.

“It means Aida’s won,” Simmons stated.

“You seriously believe that there’s some magical back door that will transport us to another world?” May wondered.

“It’s not magic, May. It’s science.”

“Then where’s your proof?”

“We just have to trust Radcliffe,” Daisy said. “He said when a person passes through the back door—“

“That they wake up on the other side. This is what you really believe?” May asked Coulson.

“Admittedly, it doesn’t sound great when you say it like that,” Coulson admitted.

“You lied to me,” Mack said to Daisy.

“Mack—“

“No, don’t try to talk your way out of this. You’re a damn liar. My daughter looks up to you, and for what? SO you can bring me out here on some wild goose chase?”

“Daisy was only trying to help,” Simmons excused.

“How?” By taking me away from my kid? What the hell is wrong with you guys?” Mack pointed at Y/N. “And you? You’re willing to let me feel the pain you felt. That’s… that’s cruel.”

“Mack, you don’t understand,” Y/N began. “It’s different. So, diff—“

“No it isn’t.”

“Hey, guys, maybe we should start thinking about a plan b,” Coulson tried to cool everyone down.

“Glad you’ve finally come to your senses,” May said. “We need to get out of here.”

“Actually, I was thinking we might try to find another way through the back door. I still believe Daisy’s right.”

“Wake up!” Mack exclaimed. “There is no back door, just like she’s not Moses about to take you to the promised land."

“That’s it,” Y/N whispered. “Daisy, quake it.”

“What?” Daisy questioned. “What do you—“

“Quake the damn thing, Daisy!”

Daisy held out her hand and quaked the pool of molten steel. It revealing the backdoor beneath it.

“HYDRA!” May shouted, as bullets came at the group. “Take cover!”

The small team took cover. HYDRA started shooting more and Y/N caused them all to drop to the ground, unconscious. Daisy went back up to the platform and quaked the steel again, uncovering the backdoor.

“It’s real,” Coulson said.

“It could be a trap,” May suggested.

“The time for doubting’s over. We’re going back to our world.”

Coulson got up from where he was hiding, heading to the platform across from Y/N, Daisy, and Mack. Unknown to the team, HYDRA agents were below them. Shots were fired, hitting Coulson.

“Coulson!” Y/N screamed, quickly appearing at his side. She had watched him die once, she couldn’t bear to do it again. “We have to get you up.”

May and Mack began firing at the lower agents as Y/N helped hoist Coulson up.

“This feels oddly familiar,” Coulson grunted, blood covering up his chest.

“Sadly, it is,” Y/N replied.

“You were there… I think I remember that…”

“We need to get you patched up,” May said, coming from behind.

“No, it’s too late for that. Help me to the edge. It’s the only way.”

“Daisy!” Y/N shouted. “The door!”

“On it!” She replied, quaking the door open again. May and Y/N helped Coulson to the edge.

“Hey, come with me,” Coulson told May.

“How can you be sure it will work?” She asked.

“I can’t. Guess it’s gonna be a leap-of-faith type of thing.”

“It’s not that simple for me.”

“Yes, it is… Just follow my lead.”

Coulson pushed himself away from Y/N and May, falling back into the door. He disappeared, causing a wave to ripple out through the Framework, showing that it wasn’t real.

“They were right,” Mack whispered. “It’s not real.”

“Go May,” Y/N urged. “He’ll be right there when you wake. And we won’t be far behind… Go.”

Giving Y/N one last look, May took that piece of faith and jumped. Y/N sighed in relief. Two down, just 5 more of them to get through.

“Simmons, you’re up!” Daisy shouted.

As Simmons headed towards the platform, a gun cocked behind her. She looked back to see Fitz pointing a gun at her. Radcliffe was handcuffed behind him.

“Hello, Jemma Simmons,” he greeted. “Seems you finally found me.”

“Fitz—“ She tried to rush towards him.

“You don’t get to say my name! Not after everything you’ve done.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Simmons shook her head. “Aida, she took you from me, and I cam to rescue you.”

“So you kill my father? Right after he tells me that he loves me, you murder him in cold blood as I listen.”

“I am so sorry,” Simmons cried. “I was an accident.”

“Nothing that you’ve done has been an accident! You want to destroy this world! To destroy me! You want to destroy the woman that I love!”

“That woman is lying to you! None of this is real! She’s not real! Aida’s just a robot yo and Radcliffe created.”

Outside the small room Fitz-Simmons was in, Y/N was wondering what was happening. So she slowly walked over, ready to attack.

“Her name is Ophelia,” Fitz defended.

“It’s name is Aida,” Simmons responded. “Artificially Intelligent Digital Assistant. And stop making excuses for it!”

“She’s right, Fitz,” Y/N cut in, bringing the attention to her. “Radcliffe, Simmons, and Daisy have all told you the truth.”

“Y/N?” Radcliffe quietly wondered. “Wow, they really called in the big guns.”

“Please… Fitz,” Simmons pled. “You have to wake up.”

“Get on your knees,” Fitz ordered Simmons. 

“No.” Fitz shot Simmons in the foot causing her to fall to the ground.

“You don’t get to touch her!” Y/N screamed freezing Fitz in place. “You don’t.”

“Let me go,” he growled.

“Fitz, listen to me,” Simmons begged. “I love you.”

“And you mean nothing to me.”

Suddenly there was a gun shot. Y/N turned to see that Radcliffe was out of handcuffs now and had shot the agent with them. He pointed his gun at Fitz and took Fitz’ gun away. Radcliffe looked at Y/N and she let her hold on him go. Radcliffe hit Fitz on the side of the face, pushing him towards the door and the platform.

“This was never my intention,” Radcliffe stated. Y/N quickly went to Simmons, helping her up. “The Darkhold corrupted my mind. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

“Go,” Simmons nodded at Daisy. Daisy quaked open the back door.

“It was all my fault.” Radcliffe pushed Fitz through the back door. Simmons caught Radcliffe before he fell in too. “Bringing Fitz here was the only way I could truly save him. I know I can’t make everything that happened in the Framework right, but at least— at least this way, Fitz gets to be his old self again.”

“Simmons,” Y/N called. “Go.”

Simmons nodded, limping forward and throwing herself through the doorway. That left Mack, Daisy, and Y/N.

“Now it’s your turn,” Daisy told Mack. “You said it yourself, this world is not real. And in the real world, you’re in danger right now.”

“What about Hope? Is she in danger?” He asked.

“No,” Y/N answered, appearing beside Daisy. “Things are different there.”

“Different? How?”

“Hope… she isn’t alive in our world. I’m so, so sorry. I… I don’t exactly know what happened. It’s not something you talk about.”

“No, no. That— on, the doesn’t make any sense. She’s alive here. Why would it be different there?”

“Aida,” Daisy answered. “She made changers in this world to keep us from fighting back. So fixed your biggest regret.”

���Then I’m staying.”

“Mack—“

“I don’t want to live in a world without Hope.”

“But it’s not real,” Y/N argued. “You saw it with your own eyes it’s a computer program. All of it. Even hope.”

“She laughs at my jokes. We watch movies together. And when she’s sad… when she’s sad, I hold her. So, she’s real to me.” Mack looked back in the eyes. “If you had the chance to be with AJ, would you stay?”

“I know the truth, Mack… And I know that AJ is safe where he is. Loved and protected. Here…. Here’s not that. Here’s not real.”

“I have to stay.”

“I understand,” Daisy replied. “And I know how hard this is, but you have people who really care about you,” she began crying, “who love you very much.”

“Tell them I’m sorry.”

“Mack, please… I don’t want to lose you.”

“Good luck. Both of you.”

With a deep inhale, the two women looked at each other, both shedding tears. They turned away from Mack. Not wanting to force him into anything. Daisy grabbed Y/N’s hand, quaking the door open as they jumped together.

next chapter >

I know I said that Agents of Shield would end with this chapter, but that ended up not being the case. We will see our Agents of Shield team for the last time in chapter 125 and Infinity War will start in chapter 126.

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