In order to fill in a minor/huge plot-hole in the RWBY story (depending on your view). I decided to ask my viewers (anyone, really) to vote on Ruby's days back in Signal academy. Because I find it really strange that she never once mentioned any of her classmates or other faculty members (besides Qrow) during her time at Signal indicating that she kept to herself (loner) or she's probably a sociopath. Either those 2 or CRWBY is a hack! This is the kind of questions that kept me up at night btw.
One logical conclusion I can take from this is that Ruby was "bullied" back in Signal and thats why she never mentioned or even bothering contacting anyone in the academy. This explains why Ruby was so eager to leave everything behind the moment an opportunity arise. And also why she wanted to make as many friends as she can in Beacon. And why I think Ruby's personality is the way it is. Her happy, bubbly personality is actually a facade to hide her depression...
Anyway I want y'all to choose which one do you like the most? And yes, this will connect to my main RWBY fic.
Why Ruby never mention her time in Signal Academy?
Ruby is hated by everyone.
Ruby can't connect to anyone.
Everyone is jealous of Ruby.
Everyone is weirded out by Ruby.
Ruby is betrayed by her closest friends
Voting ended onOct 30, 2023
And not to worry Ruby will get her "vengeance" so to speak in the end....
This Valentine’s fic was also written for the Tumblr Valentine’s prompts back in 2018. This one was day 8: First “I love you.” I don’t know if this qualifies as canon or canon divergent. I think of it as “filling in a plot hole.” Dark Hook’s words to Emma in Broken Heart about how he always said it first made no sense to me. After all, from what we saw on screen, Emma said it first and Killian had only ever said it indirectly. I know some people explain it by saying the darkness twists the truth, but I got to thinking . . . In Operation Mongoose, all Emma said was that she never told him how she felt. Maybe he threw the “L” word around all the time. I know people have very strong feelings about this topic, but this isn’t me portraying Killian as “taking away Emma’s agency” (because that would imply a man can never say “I love you” first, which is ridiculous, or that saying the words at all are somehow manipulative, which is also ridiculous). This is just me doing what fanfic writers do - taking canon and going, I wonder . . .
Can you tell I had to delete a nasty comment about this fic back in 2018? I still love it, though, and wanted to share it again.
Summary: Three times Killian Jones tells Emma Swan he loves her, and one time he doesn't.
The sea always calmed Killian, and while calm was an odd way to feel when he was finally on a date with Emma Swan, it was the best word he could use to describe how he felt right now. Despite his worries over his supposedly cursed hand, despite the ice witch who was out there somewhere, Killian felt deliciously content in this moment. Emma’s hand was in his, he could hear the soothing beat of the waves beneath the docks, and Emma’s hair glittered like gold in the moonlight.
She let go of his hand to lean against the railing of the boardwalk, and as she did, he noted the elegant curve of her neck, the way her ponytail swished against her shoulder blades, the almost girlish way she popped her foot and dug her toe into the old, wet boards. She shivered, and he inwardly berated himself for not thinking of the dropping temperatures or her bare shoulders (aside from admiring her soft skin, that is).
He shrugged out of his leather jacket and quickly draped it over her. “Here love, you have more need of this than I do.”
Emma accepted it gladly with a soft thank you, slipping her arms into the sleeves and hugging her torso. She was uncharacteristically vulnerable tonight, and he hoped that was because she felt safe with him.
She shivered still as she drew the jacket tighter around herself, and Killian came closer to wrap his arms around her from behind. She sighed and leaned back into him. Words didn’t seem necessary for the moment as they simply stood there, wrapped up in one another, gazing at the stars. Killian lowered his head to nuzzle into her neck, the scent of her shampoo making his heart thud loudly in his chest.
“I love you,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if it was the quiet, or her softness in his arms, but the words just slipped out.
She stiffened slightly, and he held his breath, fearful that he had spoken too soon. She turned, still in the circle of his arms, her face flushed, eyes shining and darting to and fro. The moment stretched out, marked by the undulating sound of the waves below.
Finally, she raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him. He kissed her back, knowing it was the only answer she could give. At least for now.
Two: Valentine’s Day
“Swan!” Killian shouted, as he burst into the loft. His fear ratcheted up a few more notches when he saw that the place was empty. It had been weeks since the Crocodile left town, and therefore weeks since there had been a crisis, but Emma’s text message had him falling right back into that mode. He glanced down at his screen to read the message again.
Come to the loft. Hurry.
He heard a laugh from the top of the stairs, and when he lifted his gaze from his phone, he saw Emma standing there, a bright smile on her face. Killian let out a huge sigh of relief as he pocketed his phone.
“Bloody hell, Swan, you scared me to death!”
“I scared Captain Hook?” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head. “Yay me. Now get up here, pirate.”
Killian did as she asked without further complaint. Belle had teased him about being whipped, and when she explained to him what that meant, he couldn’t really argue. He’d traded his ship for this woman, jumped through a time portal for her. Anything else was a trifle, really.
When he reached the second floor of the loft, Emma stood in front of her bathroom door with her hands behind her back grasping the doorknob. She wore an eager grin and there was delight shining in her eyes.
“Do you know what today is?”
Killian scratched his jaw with the curve of his hook. “Aye, Valentine’s Day, a holiday which requires Granny to decorate the diner with tacky red hearts and naked babies with bows and arrows.”
Emma chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, I know, it’s kind of cheesy. But you’ve done so much for me, I wanted to do a little something for you . . . so . . . “
With that she flung the door open, simultaneously grabbing his hook and pulling him through the door. The claw foot tub in the corner was filled to almost overflowing with big, frothy bubbles.
“It’s a bubble bath,” Emma explained, shaking his arm excitedly. “You were so thrilled with showers, and my parents said there were no bubble baths in the Enchanted Forest, not like this, sooo . . ta-da!”
Killian grinned at the thought she had apparently put into this. He approached the tub cautiously, dipping his hand in to find the water invitingly warm. It was difficult to keep water at such a perfect temperature back in the Enchanted Forest. He glanced around and also saw candles burning all over the room.
“Come on,” Emma said, yanking on his arm, “before the water gets cold and the bubbles disappear.”
She had already yanked off his jacket and tossed it on the floor. He was blushing, which was slightly embarrassing. “You, uh, talked to your parents about this?”
Emma rolled her eyes as she unbuttoned his vest. “Are you kidding? My dad would have a coronary. After he pulled his gun on you, that is. I just asked for a few hours without the baby. I think mom suspected something, but my dad seems to be a little clueless about that sort of thing. Or at least when it involves me.”
Killian’s vest was cast aside, and he watched Emma as she worked on the buttons of his shirt. Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she worked them. “How do you do this with one hand?” She muttered. “These buttons are tiny.”
Killian cleared his throat nervously as he closed his hand around Emma’s, “I think I can handle it from here.”
“No way, sailor,” Emma corrected him with a heated stare, “that tub is big enough for two.”
His blush only increased as he gazed into her eyes. Not only was this a new step in their own relationship, but it was a level of intimacy he had never shared with anyone after losing his hand. Sex became nothing more than a rough, quick release with nameless, faceless women who craved a night to forget just as much as he did. While some women had seen him without his hook, no living person had seen him without his brace since that horrible, painful day on his ship so long ago. And he hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was ashamed.
“Emma,” was all he managed to choke out as he rubbed his thumb nervously along the inside of her wrist. He wasn’t sure how to put what he was feeling into words. He just stood there, staring at the floor and clenching his jaw.
“Hey,” Emma said softly, reaching up with both hands to cup his face. She eased his chin up until his eyes met hers, and what he saw there stole his breath. Understanding. Patience. And above all, acceptance. She ran her thumbs wordlessly across his cheeks for a moment, then her hands drifted down to finish the buttons. She eased his shirt off his shoulders and one arm, then carefully worked the other sleeve around his hook. Then she ran her hand over the leather straps, almost as if she were admiring them.
“It’s okay,” she whispered as she unbuckled them. Her voice soothed him, but he still closed his eyes as she eased the brace completely from his torso. He kept them closed as her hands mapped his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Then she was cradling his stump in both hands, running her thumbs over the scars. His eyes finally opened to see her do what he had thought was unthinkable. She lifted his arm to her lips and placed a soft kiss at the end of it. His own breath came out in a shaky hiss.
“It’s okay,” she said again, pressing his stump against her to rest between her breasts. She stepped closer, her free arm encircling his waist, her cheek pressed against his chest, his bad arm wedged between them.
Killian, almost overcome with the tenderness of the moment, brought his hand up shakily to run his one hand through her hair. He lowered his face to breathe in the softness of her hair. “I love you so much,” he told her huskily.
She lifted her head to look at him, her mouth agape. Her eyes were awash with intensity, and he waited with bated breath for her words to come.
But Emma’s expression changed to a smirk as she yanked at the zipper of his jeans instead.
Three: The Cabin in the Woods
He stands there, simply gazing at her in amazement. He can’t believe she doesn’t know. Tears prick at his eyes. Is it that hard for her to believe she’s enough?
“Don’t you know, Emma?” he finally manages to say around the lump in his throat. “It’s you.”
The look on her face almost kills him. So shocked and full of wonder. They are drawn together slowly, tenderly, and as he kisses her, he can taste a tear in the corner of her mouth. He turns to kiss the salty path on her cheek.
“I love you,” he breathes against her petal soft skin.
She just buries her face in the crook of his neck and sighs.
Four: The Loft
One moment, lowly deckhand Hook feels cold steel slice through skin, muscle, and sinew. He reaches his one hand out to Emma Swan, regretting that he hadn’t grabbed hold of the moment offered him earlier. That he hadn’t leaned down and kissed her. Because no one has ever looked at him that way before. And no one has ever looked as devastated as Emma Swan does right now as he falls to the ground, the life bleeding out of him.
The next moment, his eyes are opening and he’s on his back on a hardwood floor. He’s Captain Hook again. No, he’s Killian Jones, hero and the man who loves Emma Swan. He smiles. They did it. Henry and Emma did it!
Henry! He leaps to his feet, ignoring the groans of Snow and David still on the floor behind him as he races upstairs to be sure the lad is ok. He doesn’t even have time to look for the boy when Emma bursts in, “Hook!” the first word on her lips.
He can tell she’s frantic and distraught, so he plays cocky and comedic. It was the right choice, as her face lights up with joy. She comes racing up the stairs, his given name now spoken with delight as she tackles him with a hug. It takes him by surprise when she tumbles with him onto the bed, knocking the breath out of him in the process. But he delights in the weight of her pressing him into the mattress and he enjoys it even more when she pins his arms on either side of his head, propping herself up to grin down at him. He really wishes her parents weren’t right downstairs.
“Didn’t mean to frighten you, love,” he tells her, “when I woke, I came up here to check on your boy.”
“He’s fine, Henry’s fine . . . “ She trails off, her smile faltering, and her eyes getting a sort of far-off look.
Concerned, he sits up, his forehead creasing as he searches her suddenly pale expression. “What is it, love?”
“It’s just . . . when I saw you die . . . I was afraid I would never get to tell you . . . “
Killian thinks he knows where she’s going with this. He understands her walls, her fears, her insecurities. Mostly because he’s felt them too. He tries to encourage her, but feels he only succeeds in plastering a ridiculously broad grin on his face.
“To tell you . . . thank you.”
For a brief moment, his heart drops all the way to his stomach. He died for her, and still she holds back. But he swallows down the hurt and disappointment. It has to be on her terms, he only wants it on her terms, and so he smiles. He barely hears the rest of her babbling thank you.
“All in a day’s work for a hero,” he tells her when she finishes. She presses her forehead to his, burying her fingers in his hair. He wonders if she expects him to say it like he always does: I love you. But this time, he can’t.
Killian Jones is a patient man. One day, perhaps, she’ll simply say it. Those three little words he longs to hear from her lips.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Loki (TV 2021)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Loki & Sylvie (Loki TV)
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Sylvie (Loki TV)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e03 Lamentis (Loki TV), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Fix-It of Sorts, loki deserves better, Competent loki, Loki Lies (Marvel), Sylvie Needs a Hug (Loki TV), Sylvie is also compensating, Plot hole patch, Loki's pocket dimension
Summary:
Loki comes across as completely inept and quite useless in his own TV show. Here is an alternative scene where a self-taught woman who grew up on the streets isn't better at everything than someone near her same age with a full formal education. Also plugs a few plot holes. As always, you can't trust everything Loki says, but you can trust Loki's actions (mostly.)
Thanks to @worstloki and @lotus-eyedindiangoddess for all the rants and discussions that mutated this plot bunny into its current form. It has many cousins sitting in my Scrivener WIP folder.
Howl lives in a tundra. Howl considers feeling cold a weakness. Howl has no weaknesses / / First new character in a couple years. Feels good to add characters in for a change.
So instead of Nocturna sending only two time traveling charms she will now send three, with either one or two of them becoming damaged so that they can’t be used. It’s a really straightforward solution to a stupid plot hole. Bye
Reconciling the fact that Penelope was vaguely alluded to being a Muggle-born in Chamber of Secrets with the fact that Hermione Granger pretends to be Penelope Clearwater, a half-blood who would not have been wanted by the Ministry, in Deathly Hallows.
Penelope Clearwater grew up in a Muggle family in the Muggle world, never knowing anything at all about magic until shortly after her eleventh birthday when an official from the Ministry of Magic showed up at her family's flat and explained that Penelope was in fact a witch. This shocked the Clearwaters, who had thought they'd adopted quite a normal little girl, and had spent the last ten years overlooking the occasional oddity with affectionate bemusement.
Being academics by nature (teachers in fact, the both of them; one for a local grammar school and one for a nearby university) they immediately set about researching everything they could about raising a magical daughter, which turned out to be a subject about which there was a lot less information available than they expected--the Wizarding World not being a place where one found a lot of "self-help" parenting books, and furthermore not being a place entirely keen on the idea of Muggle-born witches and wizards in the first place.
The Clearwaters decided to remedy this lack themselves, and made writing such a book their after-school hobby while Penelope was at Hogwarts. She wrote them weekly reports on her observations and opinions so that they could incorporate those into the book--and fortunately her brief Petrification was not long enough for her parents to worry, since they simply assumed she was too busy studying for her end-of-term exams to write to them. Penelope briefly entertained the idea of not sharing that particular story with her parents, but eventually decided that it merited addressing, and the book became a much more serious project that was not completed until years after Penelope graduated Hogwarts. At that time Hermione Granger herself wrote the forward, and was quite unstinting in her praise.
However, in the interim--inspired by her Petrification, the trauma of being attacked, and the prejudice that she hadn't realized was quite so entrenched until the year the Chamber of Secrets was opened and the Ministry and Hogwarts itself both decided that it was all right to risk a few Muggle-born students' lives for the sake of maintaining a normal academic year for everyone else--Penelope had become curious about her origins, one of the few topics the inquisitive girl had never bothered to research before. It took some effort, but she eventually discovered that she was not, in fact, a Muggle-born witch; her mother on the other hand, had been.
In 1976 when Penelope was born, the First Wizarding War had been in full-swing, and attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns were commonplace. Penelope's mother was one of the victims of the Death Eaters, and since her family had cast her off for being magical, there were no next-of-kin around to take her daughter in. Any friends who might have stepped-up were wizarding, and perhaps skittish at the idea of adopting a Muggle-born's child during Voldemort's reign; of course since it had been Muggle authorities who took charge of Penelope, perhaps her mother's friends simply didn't know what had become of her daughter and thus couldn't have made the offer even if they'd wanted to. Either way, it was the Clearwaters who became her parents, and Penelope never regretted that for a moment, despite the difficulties that being a (perceived) Muggle-born sometimes brought.
Penelope never did manage to figure out who her father had been, or even whether he had been a Muggle or a Wizard, because nobody whom she tracked down to ask about it could remember her mother ever having a serious boyfriend, let alone a partner or husband. But Penelope did discover her own Wizarding origins, which meant that when the Ministry went the way of the Death Eaters, she was safe...or at least, safe from being persecuted over her blood-status, anyway.
