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toysoldiers-rwby · 4 years

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[SYT] 5. the leading lamb

Show Your Teeth

Characters: Fiona, Winter, May, Robyn, Joanna Rating: Mature Tags: implied abuse, hurt/comfort, parental sibling, confessions, fluff Word Count: 7,219

Summary: Three Mantle Rats are invited to an Atlesian Party. What can go wrong?

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A/N: as a survive it’s very important for me to NEVER focus on the abuse itself. I try very hard to imply it and show the damage it can do but honestly I’m tired of reading stories where it’s just pain. So I try very hard to focus on the recovery and healing. I’d love feedback on this. Also check Ao3 for NSFW art lol. i forgot tumblr hates links so i think i’ll just edit it back in after a week or something to keep things organized.

Some how a shopping trip also turned into a raid on the local arcade. Fiona was winning despite what all the leaderboards was saying. Winter was cheating, she had to be. Robyn and Joanna was the better shot, they were the only ones that used range weapons a regular basis! Still Winter came in first. May should have won the batter’s game, her favorite weapon was a staff. Number One? Winter Schnee. The other three loudly cheered Fiona on as she adjusted her grip on the hammer.

The last game was a the gold on ‘Test of the Strength.’ Sure, some of was actual strength but almost all of it was leverage. Fiona loved stealing… borrowing! Loved borrowing heavy weapons. Axes… Elm’s hammer. She almost got Marrow’s boomerang and still had two years to do it. A worker quickly stepped in as Joanna was some how about to convince the man they’ll settle the matter like adults.

Several minutes later they had enough tickets to buy all the giant stuff animals on display. Like adults, everyone gave their tickets to the children nearby.

Like an adult, Fiona slammed her fist on the counter and demanded the giant lion.

“By the brothers, Fi…” Robyn mumbled a little embarrassed.

It was the fifth time she’d manage to surprise and fluster the women. Fiona wasn’t counting the smirk tugging at her lips and cute mole on her chin. The fluttering in her chest wasn’t getting worse and her hands didn’t feel cold and empty when she looked at Robyn. Fiona only hugged her stuff animal tighter.

“I won and Winter cheated! I deserve a trophy!” Fiona argued sticking her tongue out at them. In truth she just needed something to desperately keep her hands occupied. Joanna was the only one that smiled fondly at her and ruffled her hair. The other three acted disappointed.

And to be extra annoying she refused to absorbed it and forced the group to return to Robyn’s apartment. Fiona dumped several bags of clothes onto the living room floor and then took the couch with her new best friend. May took the time to choose to pick out everyone’s outfit and will most likely buy a few more accessories when they head up to Atlas.

“What should I name it?” Fiona asked with a grin, ears wiggling happily.

“Childish,” Robyn said with a soft teasing bite. Fiona didn’t notice the way her eyes light up, all bright and unguarded. Or noticed Robyn’s habit of blowing her fringe out of her eyes.

“Deviant,” May said slowly shifting through the bags. Eventually the others helped her but Fiona stayed on the couch.

“Selfish,” Joanna added.

“You all suck,” Fiona mumbled. She fell back, laying down on the couch and not even taking up all the space. She held up the stuff lion above her, playing with its tiny round ears as her own fluttered happily.

Today was the most fun she had in years. And not because of the sex. A sudden shiver rolled through Fiona’s body, a flash of heat dried her mouth and warmed her cheeks. The sight of Robyn stretched out before her… The sweetness rolling off her tongue and down her chin and neck. Her ears fluttered, remembering how Robyn screamed Fiona’s name.

Fiona buried her face against the muzzle. Trying not to groan at the memory. Robyn was her teammate, going to be her huntress partner. Not… Fiona tried to shelved her dancing heart. It was just… stress relief between friends. Casual hookups and friends with benefits weren’t unheard of when majority of Atlas’ population was asexual.

Robyn will be her new partner. They’ll pass their combat final with flying colors and… and ideally Robyn will stay. Fiona swallowed her racing heart back down to her chest. She’d get to see those stupid eyes everyday.

“I’ll name you… Spring.” Fiona said cuddling her trophy. Robyn glanced at her with a smirk and raised brow. “For new beginnings!” Fiona huffed and pouted at the women. Robyn’s smile eased the tension from her shoulders, looking… a lot how like Winter looks at May. Stupidly fond and earnest and Fiona had to look away with ears fluttering about.

“You have competition now,” Joanna teased, elbowing her partner. Fiona saw a light blush on Robyn’s tanned cheeks for a second. They all turned back to the elites, noticing May holding up an outfit that wasn’t for any of them.

“They won’t be able to do any compression for awhile,” Winter said. They, meaning the Thief. Fiona sat up, resting her chin on her trophy’s shoulder. The two elites picked out an outfit for the Thief on their last shopping trip. May shifted a little more, looking away uncomfortably.

Fiona realized that she never saw May in anything that she didn’t want to wear. She switched between the boy’s and girl’s uniform according to her mood, wore makeup whenever she felt like it and never because it was required. Fiona always thought it was May being May, a rebellious brat tired of all the rules… the rules just never applied to her in the beginning.

Fiona touched her ears, only being able to relate on a different level. “Scarf’s are good too,” Fiona said. Her teammates gave her a pointed look with a soft sneer. Fiona pouted at it back before Robyn playfully sat down next to her and tugged at the scarf around her neck.

“Are you ever going to give it back?” May tried to be teasing but was still a little tense.

“Maybe… not?” Fiona mumbled, an idea hitting her. She blushed and looked away. It was stupid and humans always got the wrong impression but it was true. “Maybe we should give it to the Thief-”

“Glade,” May gently reminded.

“We should give it to Glade,” Fiona corrected. “They responded pretty well to me and May so it might calm them down.” Joanna and Robyn glanced at each other a little confused. “Um… Faunus are wired differently,” Fiona answered, fidgeting a little in her seat. She never actually had to explain it to May and Winter. The pair picked up on it because they’re secretly super attentive and sweet. “We’re not hunting dogs, it works on a subconscious level and we don’t really notice it.” Fiona said. She was dancing around the subject a little because her nose was a little more sensitive than the average Faunus. Everyone had their own unique scent. Winter smelled of cool fresh air, like fresh dawn and a new beginning. May smelled of flowers, so soft it wrapped and cuddle Fiona from the inside.

Robyn and Joanna smelled like the forest of Mistral. Deep and rich, the kind of ground you could really set roots in and grace with flowers. Every bit of them was different parts of a home Fiona would like some day. No wonder Glade snuck in earlier.

Robyn and Joanna raised a brow. The slight movement helping Fiona realize she was quiet a little too long, “People just smell nice,” Fiona blurted out with a blush. “Familiar smells are calming while strangers are…”

“Upsetting?” Robyn asked.

“Kinda? It’s why May cuddles me when we need to sleep in hotels.”

“And why they practically dragged you into Robyn’s room last night,” Joanna said with chuckled, “That’s adorable.” The three students blushed softly.

The little lamb grumbled and shifted in her seat. Fiona didn’t tell them it was a sign of trust and acceptance in Faunus culture. So when they dropped off the clothes at the clinic and the Thief- Glade, walked into the clinic’s staff lounge with the scarf wrapped around their neck, Fiona smiled brightly, ears wiggling happily.

They chose the grunge outfit her elites bought, subtly turtling into the scarf as they tucked their wavy pale green hair into beanie… Keeping their eyes closed until they slipped on the dark reflective shades. Was their Faunus trait their eyes? Where they nocturnal or did they have non-human eyes?

“Thanks,” The Thief. said with a soft smile.

“Yeah, of course,” May tried to act like Winter, stoic and aloof. It was an adorable failure that had Fiona and her group of mismatched friends snickering. She grumbled at the mismatch group and looked focused on Dr. Pietro, “Are you attending the Schnee recital tonight?”

“Perhaps, Young Glade here has offered to help me finish my work but I will definitely attending Silvio’s birthday later this week,” Dr. Pietro said with a smile while the Thief frowned a little.

“Glade? What am I a stray dog?”

“We even got you a collar,” May taunted, pulling at collar of their flannel shirt. Glade only scoffed and quickly retreated back into the clinic, favoring one side over the other. Everyone noticed and gave Dr. Pietro a worried look.

“A broken leg that never healed right. Completely unrelated to what happened this morning.” Dr. Pietro said. " We had a close call with Ms. Goodwitch and Silvio earlier but they’ll be safe. If they stay here," He stressed the last bit loudly and pointedly.

“I promise I’ll keep you all out of trouble,” Glade yelled somewhere in the clinic.

“Not reassuring!” Fiona yelled back as they left. She took a few dancing steps in front of the group, smiling up at her friends, “So we ready to head back to Atlas?”

“Let’s see… Glade? Treated and recovering. Window. Fixed. Weapons?” Robyn asked.

“Check!” Fiona smile with a flick of her wrist, a switchblade was suddenly in her hands and flicked open. The others seemed to falter a little, a quick blush appearing on everyones face and Robyn looking particularly… bothered. Fiona only brightly smiled at her until Winter cleared her throat.

“Atlesian lesson 101?” The Schnee asked next.

“They’re bitches,” May and Robyn answered at the same time. Fiona giggled as Winter lightly glared at them both. “Public opinion is everything,” Robyn answered. “And 102, deliver what they think they want.”

What the Atlesians wanted from Robyn wasn’t far from who she actually was.

Joanna cleared her throat, “An average civilian, rising to the occasion to save a brilliant mind during a sudden attack on Mantle, the charismatic hero who always gets the girl in the end,” she narrated the hard-light poster dramatically before throwing her head back and laughing.

Thank god Winter had the foresight to drag them to Schnee Manor before the actual recital started. The only people around were servers, security, and fiends. It gave time for the Mantle Rats to get used to the environment, to the disgusting show of wealth. They had space for real trees in the city. Gated behind a wall with security cameras pointing out in every direction. Marble, chrome, rich dark oaks constructed the building and hard-light lamps advertised the Schnee emblem and tied it all with a soft blue glow.

Then there was the hijacked hard-light poster.

It was suppose to be displaying the poster May showed them earlier today, Weiss sinking on stage. Instead it was Robyn. Valiantly fighting Grimm in the foreground, fending off those creepy long fingers and giving Fiona time to grab Silvio as the ground erupted beneath them. Fiona tilted her head.

It looked like a movie still.

A very hot one Fiona would probably take for herself later but it didn’t feel right. “Is this what people see when they watch Huntsmen and Huntresses fight?” She asked softly. “Just action and adventure? Not, y’know… helping people?”

“It always seems like saving people is the ultimate form of help. It gets rather tiresome.”

The group turned around to see Goodwitch approaching. Her usual wear was formal enough, a lot more than the group’s casual suits and dresses. Robyn’s tie was purposely loose the top two buttons left open for that perfectly clean your-not-important-enough-for-me-to-care persona the group decided on. Just thinking about it made Fiona’s hand twitched. She wanted to pull at it for a while now. She enjoyed Robyn’s shock and flustered face and that tie… Robyn’s her teammate, not a casual fuck.

Fiona took a slow breath and looked back up at Goodwitch who eye did bounce between the gold bird pin everyone wore on their body.

“I’d like to formally apologize on Qrow’s behalf,” Goodwitch said a bit reluctantly. “Though I do not apologize for his absence. He’ll probably just puke all over the floor or hassle the servers.”

"If you want to apologize stop bringing up that drunk," May said, her arm leaving the small dip of WInter’s back. Winter tried to stay relax but was glaring hard up at the Vale huntress.

Goodwitch smile, “Best idea all day. Worse being people sneaking Grimm into the city,” She finished looking at Robyn and Fiona. The words made Fiona’s heartbeat leap into her throat. There… that was one explanation. The only reasonable. May did say something about a greater plan. Glade was the only one that acted- No. Fiona looked at Robyn, Glade was the only one that had the skill and resources to act. “James has told me you’ve looked into previous cases, Detective Hill?”

Detect… Detective?! Fiona tried not to sputter at the title. She tried to relax her ears, stop them from sticking straight out from the sides of her head. Joanna chuckled softly beside her and ruffled her hear, unfreezing her muscles.

“Fighting rings have started to bring in small non-Atlas Grimm to spice things up,” Robyn said. Fiona pulled her head out of the gutter, trying to focus on the conversation. Joanna set a hand on her partner’s shoulder, calming her down enough to continue civilly. “We’ve been trying to get the military involved for months.”

“Do you think these events are related?” Goodwitch asked.

“We put a dent in the major rings so I hope not,” Joanna whispered. “If Atlas gangs figure out how to turn Grimm into weapons…” Fiona didn’t want to think about those Imps agains.

“We’re already seeing some bandit tribes in Anima use similar tactics,” Goodwitch informed. One reason why Atlas was so crowded and industrialized was that Solitas made living outside of proper settlements difficult. Normal citizens without a protective Aura can’t even leave the kingdom without expensive equipment. “Extort them for protection by leading the Grimm to them and leave them once the main horde arrives.”

“They can’t all be connect,” Robyn said firmly shaking her head. “Twisted mines follow the same path every now and then.”

Goodwitch stared at the group for a long while, then smiled sadly, “I don’t suppose I can steal you from Atlas, can I?” Goodwitch asked.

“She’s mine,” Fiona blurted out, heart skipping a few beats as panic filled her for a second. She was so close to making things up to Winter and May. Just one last thing before they all continue with their training and studies, two years until they graduation. Robyn nudged her out of it a playful smirk comforting the little lamb. “She’s my partner for our combative final.”

“Ridiculous,” Goodwitch said with a deep scowl, “With how you all fought, I’ll see ensure James pass the three of you and accept you two into the Academy,” She looked at the students then at the detectives. The group blinked stunned until Goodwitch raised a brow.

“Thank you… ma’am,” Winter said softly. Even her eyes were wide.

Goodwitch only nodded. She turned on those high heels and practically marched away, “I look forward to working with you ladies again.”

“As long as that creepy as bird doesn’t break my shit!” Robyn called out after her. Robyn was practically bouncing, a large smile on her face as grabbed Joanna’s hands and practically bounced, “Heard that Joan! We’re Atlas students-”

“Your an Atlas student.” Joanna said pulling her hands free and pushing them firm on Robyn’s shoulders to stop her small bounce. " We don’t have the money for both of us to attend."

Fiona winced in sympathy, “I’m on almost five scholarships and it’s… not easy,” Fiona said softly. She needed to write essay’s attend tournaments, her workload was nearly tripped the average student’s. Another reason why she was so desperate to stay with Winter and May, another team would just hold her back. “I’m lucky i got teamed up with a perfectionist and a competitive idiot.” She nodded to Winter and May, both avoiding their gaze with an uncomfortable look. This wasn’t a conversation her elites usually hear.

Robyn scowled, gritting her teeth. Joanna smiled and patted her head like a she was pouting puppy, “We’ll figure something out Rob… Today is still our day off, right?” She looked at May who nodded.

“Would you two like a small tour of the manor?” Winter ask, already leading the group out of the foyer. They headed to the kitchen first, trying to walk past all the giant paintings of her family but Robyn stopped at the giant portrait. Winter tried to encourage the group to walk past but Joanna eyed the giant suit of armor and sword next to it. “My grandfather, Nicolas Schnee.”

“I read about him,” Joanna said, “When Robyn first suggested we go to Atlas Academy I laughed at her.”

“Yeah, I was so hurt I almost kicked you out,” Robyn mumbled. She turned towards Winter, “But you three know why we want to become Huntresses now.”

Fiona looked at Winter who pressed her lips tight. She only turned and walked deeper into the manor, forcing the group to follow. May didn’t leave her side, pressing into her shoulder every time a server passed with a tray of empty wine glasses. Their hands brushed every so often but neither of them made a move to hold on.

It was obvious why May joined. Winter was hung up on the fact that they only met their new friends yesterday.

“Same as you but a little different,” Fiona said, wiggling her ears for effect. “To help everyone, Mantle is just the start-” Suddenly hear ears perked up, flicking in the direction of the private area of the manor. It sounded like glass breaking.

“Damn it…” May mumbled. This time her hand finally slid into Winter’s, “I’ll check, you stay.”

“No.” Winter said, voice brittle and body so taunt it was ready to snap. Fiona hung back, letting May try and calm her not-girlfriend teammate. She also stopped Robyn from springing into action.

May stepped close, their heads leaned together to whisper as soft as possible. Fiona tried to ignore it but it was impossible with how quiet the hallways were. “You come, they come.” May said. Then her voice soften, “Please… Don’t put this all on me, Win.”

Winter blinked. Blue eyes shinning and cracking. Fiona would never say tears were in her eyes. After another squeeze Winter finally relaxed and let go of May’s hand. “Alright… Let’s go-”

“Stop! Please!” Silvio’s voice broke through the thick walls.

Immediately the group broke into a sprint. Winter was the fastest and Fiona was trailing behind her after absorbing her heels. A Glyph light the hallway. Before Fiona could stop her, a Beowolf roared, crawling out of it and slashing the door opened. She could hear two kids scream and another glass breaking.

Fiona only had a moment to take in the scene before the two kids ran towards them. Three adults and thanks to Fiona’s sensitive nose she could smell some alcohol on all their breaths. Weiss was in Winter’s arms in seconds and once Silvio stumbled out of Author Watt’s slacken grip, he was behind May.

“Let’s go.” May shoved Winter out of the room. She fought it, eyes on her mother and father. The Beowolf slowly growling.

“Please,” Weiss whispered. That finally broke Winter’s furious trance. She stepped back but left her Beowolf growling viciously it made Fiona’s ears twitch painfully low.

May lead them back to kitchens, Fiona could tell by the delicious smell and the clanking pots. It was the only life in the manor, the staff singing loudly and enjoying their work until the rich snobs came in and they’d have to act pleasant. When the group came in they immediately froze, nervous. They took one look at the kids and quieted down. The singing wasn’t as loud but still lively and cheerful.

Fiona watched some energy and return to the kids, a small weight lifting off their shoulders as Klein quickly appeared. His light brown eyes shifted from them to Winter, “Oh dear… what happened now-”

“Nothing.” Weiss said softly.

“Nothing new,” Silvio said with a scoff. He sat at the table, taking a dessert and stuffing it in his face before retreating into his Scroll. Klein sighed and replaced it with a fresh treat from the counter.

Fiona looked at Winter and May who gave her a gentle pleading look. The little lamb grabbed both Joanna and Robyn’s hands, leading them out of the kitchen. “Come on, their garden has real flowers in them,” Fiona said, trying to sound cheerful for the sake of the kids. Weiss didn’t smile and Silvio didn’t look up from his Scroll.

No one wanted to speak until they got the garden. Even then the heavy silence lingered, growing heavier as the trio watched the sunset on a bench. Finally Joanna sigh let out a loud sigh, leaning heavily into Fiona and pushing her into Robyn who easily bore the additional weight of two people.

“Maybe we should take Goodwitch’s offer and go to Vale?” Joanna mused softly. “It’d be cheaper too. Warmer. Friendlier.”

“But they don’t need us,” Fiona said softly.

Robyn came back to reality. Fiona and Joanna had to right themselves as she leaned forward and rubbed her face. “That is so messed up… Not even the rich has it easy in this fucking kingdom,” She was trembling. Voice on the verge of breaking and so damn angry. When Fiona tried bending down Robyn harshly turned away.

“I can smell you crying… sensitive nose remember?” Fiona whispered. She moved, taking Robyn’s other side so her and Joanna could sandwich Robyn in. Her hand hesitated, hovering above Robyn’s knee. Just as she was about to pull back Robyn uncurled and grabbed her hand. She held onto tightly as she leaned her head on Joanna’s shoulder and whipped away the tears with her other hand. “Now you know why they’re so protective of me… And why Winter wants to become a huntress.” Fiona said softly, rubbing comforting circles on Robyn’s skin with her thumb.

“What’s good is being an officer if I can’t even arrest a drunk huntsmen, let alone those three,” Joanna growled. She took a deep breath. Her arm was long enough to rest heavily on Robyn and Fiona’s shoulder. It was like a loose hold, so Fiona snuggled into both of them. For a long moment they all just sat there, letting their brains turn off.

Winter was the first to find them with a tray of food and drinks. She looked guilty but smiled seeing Fiona’s and Robyn’s hand tightly intertwine. Fiona haded how soft Winter’s voice came out, “I’m… I’m sorry you three had to see that.” She said. Fiona got up, passing the tray to Robyn and wrapping her arms tight around Winter.

“I’m sorry we can’t do anything they deserve,” Joanna said back. The three Mantle Rats invited Winter to sit with them on the bench but Winter politely refused, withdrawing a little instead. But she was here… and May asked her not to put it all on her anymore.

Fiona extruded a picnic blanket for them to sit on. Joanna and Robyn looked comfortable on the bench looked relaxed stretched out on the ground. After some thought, Robyn dropped her head onto Fiona’s lap. The little lamb smiled down at her, both enjoying and needing a sense of touch. Fiona selfishly let her heart beat faster, eyes wandering to Robyn lips and eyes as she played with the platinum strands of hair.

The cowardly part of Fiona wished Robyn didn’t relax the way she did, closing her eyes and humming softly in approval. At same time she’d hope to see it more. No wonder her two elite always got grumpy whenever their morning routine was interrupted.

“We’ve dealt with families with… similar situation,” Robyn explained, slowly turning her brain back on. “I can recommend some good therapist for your sister. Silvio too.”

“That’d… that’d be much appreciated. You’d have to talk to May about Silvio, she’s already helping him with… other things.” Winter said softly. She hide half her face behind a drink, her eyes meeting Fiona’s for a moment then down to Robyn and Joanna. “Thank you,” She whispered into her drink.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Robyn said with a small smile. She rolled onto her stomach and Fiona missed the warmth of her scalp and softness of her hair. “One more thing. Just pin May to the wall and fuck her already.” Winter blushed hard, coughing softly and trying to clear her throat. Joanna patted her back while Fiona giggled.

“I… I can’t-”

"Can’t? You practically fucking her through me," Robyn continued to press. Winter blushed harder, completely off balance and embarrassed by the topic. It was rare a sight, one that only May pulls off on a good day so Fiona jumped in.

“Technically, I was fucking you,” Fiona corrected, lightly flicking Robyn’s nose. “Because Winter’s too sweet on May to actually fuck another person,” She leaned forward and grinning at the Schnee. Winter tried to get Fiona to submit with a hard look. When Fiona started wiggling her brows a little Winter was forced to set her drink down or risk spilling it all over their semi-formal clothes. She barely remembered they were here for an Atlesian party.

“I don’t know if I should be upset that you two noticed before May did,” Winter grumbled softly. “But I didn’t think she liked me back until this morning.”

Fiona tapped her chin thinking back on their years together. “Honestly… I didn’t either. You? You were so obvious! The morning routines with the hair, how protective you were over her!” The pair might have edged each other to the extremes but that also meant they were always softer and much more relaxed when together.

“I have been hinting at it when since we were young,” Winter confessed. All the Mantle rats flinched. Joanna ran a hand through her hair, messing up the gel the Marigold styled it with.

“Well of course May don’t realize it!” Joanna said with an annoyed sigh. “You’ve been giving her mix signals-”

"How was this morning mixed signals?!" Winter hissed with a deepening blush.

“Just tell her,” Robyn said waving her hand.

“Tell who what?” May asked rounding the corner of bushes with another tray of food. “Klein wanted to make Fiona’s favorite since we haven’t snuck back in awhile.”

“Yes!” Fiona cheered taking the tray of fruits and sweets, strawberries covered in chocolates to fluffy cream stuffed puff. After throwing one in her mouth she teasingly dangled one in front of Robyn’s face. The women rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the strawberry and watching as Fiona finished it off.

May sneered, “Glad I haven’t missed much.”

“They’re trying to convince me to tell you about my undying love for you,” Winter said, in her default tightly controlled and dry tone. Before anyone could act surprised May threw her head back and laughed so hard her face went a little red.

“Yeah! Do it after Weiss’ performance.” May said with a bratty cute grin. Fiona tensed, a smile plastered to her face as she tried not to scream. Damn it May! “Announce our engagement so your father and my cousin can die of a heart attack!” She bent down, taking Winter’s hands and gently pulling her up, “Come on! Show’s starting soon and Silvio wouldn’t shut up about us grabbing front row seats.”

Within a few minutes the the theater was full and the lights dimmed to darkness. Fiona looked around. Her eyes spotting most of the military in the booths above the crowd. Goodwitch sitting irritably next to General Ironwood. Across from them senior Clover Ebi was sitting next to the freshmen Marrow. The other Faunus was busy looking around the theater too, a determine look on his face.

“There’s a lot of Atlas students here…” Fiona whispered a little uneasily.

“We do have two Atlesian scientist and the one visiting from Vale with his family,” Robyn said. Fiona looked back up the balconies. Sure enough she spotted the Vale scientist with his Faunus wife and daughter.

Unfortunately due to May and Robyn’s hassling each other, they didn’t get center seats, but from this angle Fiona was able to see just behind the curtains. At the side of the stage was a hooded figure in robs… Weiss next to them with Silvio a little ways off. Fiona strained her ears but it was too far.

The hooded not-Schnee figure took the center of the stage and from his Scroll Silvo activated the music. A slow piano piece fitting for the rich audience. Slowly the stage lights turned on, letting Fiona’s sensitive eyes adjust while gradually getting brighter for the humans to see, piano growing louder, picking up tempo.

“You are an ocean of waves, weaving a dream like thoughts, become a river stream,” the mysterious stranger sang. Her voice was lower than Weiss. A shock mummer spread across the crowd but the opening act wasn’t phased even as Fiona watched the military in the booths grow a little tense. They only relaxed when they realized another voice would join occasionally, Weiss standing beside Silvio, harmonizing into her mic. “Yet may the tide every change, flowing like time to the path, yours to climb.”

Fiona turned back to the stage, ears flinching a little whenever the music was too high for her sensitive ears. Whoever the mysterious singer was, she knew how to entertain walking the stage, posing and gesturing to the audience until the easily swayed like Marrow was at the edge of his seat and the reserved ones like Vine was absolutely enthralled. Robyn looked amazed, beautiful lavender eyes wide.

“Thou seek the light with an outstretched hand,” Slowly the opening act’s voice faded. Weiss’ voice growing louder but she hadn’t walked on stage yet, “A divine blade lies before you so command the wake of dreams, to restore the world, cut 'way the seams,”

Then the tempo picked up yet again, a drum encouraging Fiona’s heart into a powerful and steady beat. The mysterious singer reached out the audience, “Join in our prayer, in our song of birthrights and love,” She sang loudly. Weiss’ voice slowly appeared again, matching harmonizing so perfectly it had Fiona’s ears shuttering in pleasure, “Come the sun, illuminate the sky. Pray that we may quell the dark. Light take the throne. Lost in thoughts, all alone.”

Then the lights dimmed, the music slowed to pause. Fiona heard Robyn and Joanna catch their breath next to her. Fiona saw the mysterious singer rush to the side, encouraging Weiss onto the stage. She vigorously shook her head for a moment until Silvio whispered his own words of encouragement, gesturing to where Winter was sitting.

With a huff and a stomp she rushed to her position, the opening act helping her on the left and then rushed to their own position on the right side. It was then she noticed the slight shaking in her hands. As Silvio increased the lighting, Fiona could see the redness in her eyes she missed before.

Poor kid. Still having to preform after the bullshit three adults put her through. Fiona heard Robyn gasp softly, “This is all improved…” she muttered.

The verse repeated but this time the music didn’t slow. The drums became louder, drums and violins filling Fiona with a rush as she listened to every word, “Thou seek the dark with an un-sheathed blade,” Weiss’ voice was beautiful, it sent chills down her spine and the haunting familiarity of her assistant pulled everyone in like it was story, “Now a white ivory throne beckons so obtain the fate you sow on this path be wary friend and foe.”

The way they moved on stage, circling each other or stepping close and matching their steps was almost poetic. “May thy chosen path lead way, and grace you with virtue but surely balance awaits,” Slowly Weiss took the lead, the opening act smiling as Weiss’ hands stopped shaking. She looked directly at her sister in the front row, “So be it bliss or pain you gain beyond the route-way’s end. You’ll gain resilience and weakness. The trials, the thorn in your side becomes the greatest strength, in you.”

The song was a message to her sister, Fiona realized with a happy smile. She looked at the older Schnee. Winter looked proud. She reached over to her partner, grabbing her hand giving it a thankful squeeze. Fiona glanced at Robyn her own hand feeling stupidly empty. Until she notice Silvio and the hooded singer nodding at each other.

“Descend into the abyss thou see- Hey!” Weiss screamed as she was suddenly shoved into the orchestra pit. One of the musicians threw their instrument aside to catch her. The crowd gasped, all the military huntsmen and students shocked in their seats. The music changed, suddenly blaring through the speakers but the volume wasn’t enough to make Fiona flinch.

“The future is bulletproof the after is secondary!” The opening act sang. Finally the hooded opening act ripped off their hood. Fiona’s mouth hung open as a familiar helmet and gold horns standing on stage. I promise I’ll keep you all out of trouble, Glade said before they left Mantle. “It’s time to do it now and do it loud!”

“Are you serious!?” May screamed in the theater. Fiona looked at her elites. May was almost pulling her hair out and Winter jumped into the orchestra pit to check on her sister. Glade grinned, hard-light ears taking shape and floating above their helmet.

They pointed at May, “Kill joys! Make some noise!”

“Your fucking dead-”

“Na, na, na, na, na!” Glade stomped their feet in time with the rock music. Fiona barely pushed May back into her seat as the military moved in. Thankfully it was the students first. Vine swinging in with his semblance and Elm’s massive thighs launched her off the balcony and towards the stage. But Glade only smiled, never missing a beat, “Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs, I don’t need it but I’ll sell what you got,” The pair was only able to make an entrance. The Dust in Glade’s clothes glowed a bright purple. A low warping sound ran deep in the room. Vine gasp a sudden weight pulling him down with Elm. It was enough force for the pair to crash through the stage.

The crowd sneered and laughed. “Bring what Rat in and they all come,” Someone said behind them. Fiona was pretty sure it was May’s cousin but she wasn’t about to ask the Marigold to check. Fiona only kept watching. Winter had snuck Weiss back behind the curtain and was now glaring at Silvio. It looked like she was trying to lecture them but the kids were smiling, busy watching Marrow clumsily climb onto the stage while Harriet appeared with a trail of lightning behind her.

Fiona laughed at the nervous looking boy, “Come on Marrow!” She cheered. Glade has yet to attack anything sentient and alive so he won’t get his ass beat but humiliation can be just as painful.

“You’re looking good for someone who almost died this morning,” Harriet taunted.

Glade only smirked, “But I’ll take what I want form your heart and I’ll keep it in a bag, in a box, put an X on the floor!” They continued to sing. Glade bounced around, light on their feet and motioned for the pair to come at them, “Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more! Shut up and Sing it with me!”

“Marrow…” Harriet ordered the kid.

Marrow took a deep breath, tail straightening as he concentrated, "Stay!" He hasn’t perfected his semblance yet but Glade’s singing paused, body moving slowly but still moving.

Harriet grinned cracking her knuckles before running forward. Just as she was about to reach them, the gravity Dust glowed bright. Harriet lost her footing but the momentum continued until she crashed into the wall. The audience laughed even harder. Robyn and Joanna roaring next to her.

The poor freshmen couldn’t hold his semblance and dropped it, panting heavily. Just as Clover was about to step onto the stage the lights shut off. Glade reach over, throwing Clover at Marrow. With a sharp whistle a wall of ice rose up, blocking all of Ironwood’s favorite students on stage. Glade ran to the side, grabbing the blind Schnees and Watt and running out of the theater. Before they disappeared they gave Fiona a pointed look.

The little lamb grabbed everyone and ran to the nearest side door. Klein gasped, semblance activating with a small scared sneeze and red eyes was looking at them. “Good, good, I was worried ya’ lot wouldn’t catch on,” Klein smirked, voice gruff and a little aggressive. Fiona giggled, she always like this one the best. “You… I can’t believe you’re in on this too!”

“Don’t blame me lil’ miss,” Klein scowled and growled back up at May, “Originally we were just gonna turn off the lights and sneak Weiss out, but the lil cunt made a friend and well…” Klein gestured to the theater and the loud shouts and yells. Ironwood was demanding the lights be turned back on and the crowd was starting to panic a little, “Best get ya’ out of here, eh? Rides out back, hurry on, now.”

Fiona new the manor well enough to get the group there. Robyn tried to stop laughing. It was a good thing Fiona was still holding her hand because she was sure Robyn would have been several halls behind them. There were other security guards around but they would see a server accidentally stumble into them or slow down the cart of food or equipment.

“I’m glad Weiss is still being look after.” May muttered softly under her breath. That finally got Robyn to stop laughing a sobering smile aimed at her elite.

A chauffeur waited patiently with the door opened for them. Winter didn’t jump, only gave them a small smile while the kids giggled to themselves. May was the only one still furious, “Where’s Glade?”

“They ran off while I was lecturing Weiss and Silvio,” Winter explain. “Said something about, 'How they weren’t paid enough for that,” She finished looking pointedly at the young adopted Watts. “How long have you two been planning this?”

“Sneaking out in the middle of the performance…” Weiss blushed and looked away. “A few… weeks?”

“It was suppose to be during my party but… then… fuck my uncle,” Silvio huffed. The mood died a little but Silvio was still grinning. “It was so worth it.”

“You two should have told me,” Winter said.

“You should come around more often- Ow!” Silvio winced as both May and Weiss punched him.

Winter took it in stride. She closed her eyes, as if concentrating to break the aloof and cool facade. She smiled, gently and earnestly leaning towards her sister and the young genius, “I guess you two will need to fill me. How exactly did two brilliant kids made a fool of the military? Hm?” They both grinned up at her.

May acted like a grump rolling her eyes but leaning heavily into her partner side. Fiona grinned at the scene, ears fluttering happily. Robyn sneered and chuckled, fingers playing with the tips of her ears while Joanna had an arm slung around both their shoulders again.

Fiona hadn’t realized she didn’t let go of Robyn’s hand until she was swinging their joined hands in the elevator. May set the kids up in another suite, talking a little more with the kids. Fiona and Robyn naturally gravitated to the balcony while Winter and Joanna collapsed onto the king sized bed with a deep sigh.

“What a day…”

“I’ll say. Fighting Grimm, sex in the changing room, a picnic and a show,” Joanna teased. The trio blushed hard and Robyn still made no move to pull their hands apart. This time she caught the women glancing at her lips. Fiona tighten her grip, fighting the urge to pull at the loose tie.

“I’m going to live variously through you two again.” Winter said. Fiona nearly jumped and the pair looked at Winter, lounging like a cat next to a bear that was Joanna. The Schnee looked pointedly at their hands, “Just make out already.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Robyn whispered, voice husky and slow. It sent a shiver down Fiona’s spine and she realized the women was quiet for awhile now. Fiona could almost feel just how long Robyn was holding herself back. At first the kiss was desperate and almost vicious. Fiona gasp softly when Robyn bit her lip and her tongue danced against hers. Both of Fiona’s hands was held in Robyn’s against the railing, as if this is how she wanted to take Fiona during their two rounds this morning.

With a dazed heart Fiona followed whatever mood Robyn wanted to give. Meeting her energy as best as possible. The frenzy kiss slowed to a passionate one. Finally Robyn let her hands go and Fiona let them wrap around her neck. The kiss might have slowed but it didn’t die. Fiona only felt the warmth in her chest spread, the cold metal of the rail worth the feeling of Robyn pressed against her.

“There’s no way you’d kiss May like that,” Joanna mumbled next to Winter. “It’d be a lot more sweet and chaste.”

“Shut up,” Winter mumbled softly. Robyn and Fiona broke apart giggling at their banter and at each other. Fiona swallowed trying not to think too much about how she wanted to keep those lavender eyes for longer than their academic years. How Robyn’s sweetness reminded her for her elites or how that Mantle attitude reminded Fiona that she wasn’t alone in their fight.

She didn’t want to fall but Robyn and the others were making it tempting.

Robyn leaned in again but not for a kiss, her nose nuzzled Fiona’s cheek trying to push her head to the right but Fiona fought it for a second and took a deep breath. Lavender and a fresh spring fields filled her nose, clouding her mind in a happy daze and settling her heart into a slow dancing rhythm. When Fiona finally opened her eyes she saw May on the balcony next to them. Face red and gold eyes wide.

“I want to do it right because…” Winter’s soft words floated through the open air. Robyn and Fiona giggled, watching May blush so hard it must have been painful but the smile on her face didn’t make her worry. Instead Fiona pulled gently pulled on that loose tie around Robyn’s neck and pull her down for a kiss.

This kiss was slowest yet. A practiced and gentle dance as Winter continued to speak, “Because I’ve loved her since I can remember.”

#robyn hill #springthyme #rwby #rwby7 #winter schnee #may marigold #fiona thyme #joanna greenleaf #happy huntresses #very happy huntresses #hellbore #Show Your Teeth #very seasoned huntresses

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peacedolantwins · 5 years

Text

Third Time’s the Charm

A/N: takes place before Family. You dont really need to read that one for this to make sense, but its there if you want it

You were looking through the pasta section of the aisle when you heard a child crying further down the aisle. You didnt give it much thought, assuming it was just another toddler throwing a tantrum in the store but after they hadnt quieted down after a few minutes you looked around to see where they were. There was only one other person in the isle and they didnt seem to even care there was a sobbing child near them so you assumed that wasnt their parent. Were they lost? It was a big store and to be completely honest, with how often they rearrange the store even you get lost. Maybe their parent was in the next aisle looking for them? You kept an eye on the small girl as you looked around into the next aisle but no one was there.

What were you supposed to do? Well other than find their parent, but were you supposed to just take her and go look for them? Leave her here and find an employee so they can do that thing where they call them over the speaker? Take her with you to find an employee? Sit and wait with her and hope her parent shows up? This was taking too long so screw it.

“Hi honey,” you made your way to the small girl who couldnt be more than two and was crying and sitting on the floor. When she looked at you, you felt your heart break for her, she looked so scared and sad.

“Are you lost?” She kept crying but it was less sobbing and more just tears, but she nodded her head.

“Did your mommy bring you?”

“Daddy,” her little voice was so shaky. Okay, shes looking for her dad.

“I’m Y/n, what’s your name?” You wanted her to feel a little bit comfortable with you, especially with how scared she seemed.

“Sky,” she mumbled back at you.

“You have such a pretty name Sky. Can you tell me what daddy looks like?”

“Tall and he has pictures on him,” Pictures? Tattoos? Okay so you were looking for a tall guy with tattoos. But was he tall or just tall to a little girl?

“Do you know your daddy’s name? What other people call him?” Considering her description of him you were going to need a little bit more.

“Um, E? I fink?” She still couldnt pronounce her th’s yet and you thought that was so cute but now wasnt the time to focus on that. So a tall guy with tattoos whose name starts with an E. You realized trying to help her on your own wasnt going to work so you knew you would have to take her up to the front to an employee so they can hopefully call him over the speaker.

“How about we go to front so they can call your daddy? I’ll stay with you until he gets there okay honey?” You gave her a small smile and felt so relieved when she nodded her head. You helped her stand back up and offered her your hand but were surprised when she lifted her arms wanting to be carried. You placed her on your hip and heard her starting to cry again.

“No, no its okay, were going to find your daddy okay, you’re okay,” you were trying to soothe her the best you could, not sure if you could handle a full meltdown from the small child. You walked quickly because the faster you could get to the front, the faster she could find her dad.

“Hey!” You felt a hand grab your arm and yanking you around to face them.

“You think you can just take someones daughter? Give her back to me!” This guy tried to grab her from you, but you moved out of reach. While this seemed like her dad, you couldnt be too sure.

“What do you think you’re doing? Give me my daughter right now or I swear-”

“Hey, you’re scaring her!” You felt her tiny sobs shaking her body on your shoulder. You knelt down and put her on the ground next to you. “Hi honey, it’s okay. Is this your daddy?” She turned around and looked up at the man next to you.

“Daddy!” She immediately ran to him and he picked her up just as quick. “See Y/n! He has pictures!”

You did notice his legs seemed to be covered in different tattoos. And he was pretty tall. You also noticed he was very attractive. You shook that thought out of your head. He probably had a girlfriend anyways and he did just accuse you of trying to take his daughter. Now wasn't the time to be thinking that at all.

“I do see! I told you it’d be okay. Hey Sky, I’m gonna leave you with your daddy okay?” You gave her one last smile before turning away.

“Hey, Y/n right?” To your surprise this guy was now walking next to you.

“Something with an E, right?” Now he was the surprised one.

“Ethan actually, and I just want to say thank you for helping her. And also sorry for how I talked to you when you were just trying to help.”

“It’s okay, I get it. I know how it might have looked so it's okay, really. Just try not to lose her anymore, okay?” He gave a small laugh at that.

“Yeah, never again. Worst ten minutes of my life, I was so scared something bad happened to her,”

“Hey its okay. Shes okay. Maybe just take her home? She looks about ready to pass out there,” you pointed to her with her eyes slowly closing as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Right. Again thank you so much,” he waved at you before completely leaving.

It was barely eleven in the morning and so much has already happened. All you came to do was buy more pasta.

~~~

Fall was your favorite season to go out picking new candles. Everything smelt like apples, cinnamon, or pumpkin and you loved it. New season meant new candles. Especially when they were on sale. There was no getting between you and the hundreds of candles that lined the shelves of the store.

That morning you walked into the mall and headed straight towards the candle shop already knowing your bank account was going to be crying by the time you were done in the store.

You quickly grabbed a convenient basket and started looking around. There weren't too many people in the store and was thankful for that. Crowds weren’t your thing at all.

An hour later you were heading to the checkout counter with your baskets that were filled and made your arm feel as if it were about to fall off but it was worth it. Why are candles so heavy? There was only two people in front of you when you felt something grab onto one of the baskets you were carrying.

“Sky?” The little girl simply looked up and smiled at you while waving.

You looked around hoping to see her dad somewhere in the store but nothing. Where was he? Maybe her mom brought her to the store? No one seemed to be looking for a small child in the store.

“Hi honey, where’s your daddy?” You crouched down in front of her.

“Fhere!” She pointed to one of the stores across the candle shop. So she did run off again. Sighing you thought about what to do. At least she found someone she knew right? Better than going off with a complete stranger.

“Next!” The cashier called you up.

“Sky can you help me with these?” She nodded her head and started handing you the candles but not before smelling each one which you couldn’t help but smile at. Apparently she didn’t like cinnamon but she did like the vanilla marshmallow one. She put it off to the side next to her legs before giving you the other ones instead.

“Do you like that one?” Again she nodded her head while clutching onto the candle. “How about I let you take it?” You couldn’t help but smile as her eyes got wide and she had a giant grin on her face. You gently took it from her to pay for it before asking the cashier to put it in a separate smaller bag.

You handed her your card and chose not to think about how much you really just spent on scented wax and oil. She handed you back your card and two giant bags filled with candles and one smaller bag. You were definitely going to need both hands to hold the bags but you didn’t want to lose the little girl.

“Hey Sky, can you hold on to my pocket while we go wait for your daddy?” She nodded her head but not before pointing to the smaller bag. You handed it to her, watching as she practically dragged the bag from how little she was.

You found an empty bench to wait, really hoping Ethan would come out of the store to look for her. The bench was right across the store so it shouldn’t be hard to find the two of you. You sat with the little girl for a few minutes while she kept playing with the candle and she was telling you a story you didn’t quite understand but nodded along anyways.

“Found her!” You looked up from Sky to see someone who looked almost exactly like Ethan but only… bigger and with less styled hair. He seemed relieved but also upset, which is understandable. You could see Ethan following behind him but the other one got to you first.

“Skylar! You can’t just run off like that!” You saw he was about to grab her arm and while you were sure he wasn’t going to hurt her, his size scared you to be completely honest and you pulled the little girl closer to you.

“Excuse me? She isn’t yours so do you mind-”

“Gray! Its okay, Sky come here sweetheart,” he held out his arms to her and she quickly wiggled out of your grasp and ran to him before he picked her up.

“Daddy look!” She pointed towards you.

“I see! Y/n, I’m so sorry, I swear she just snuck off,” he was trying to explain himself to you.

“I thought you weren’t going to lose her again?” You smirked at him. This is now the second time you ended up with his daughter and you really hoped it would be the last. Not that you didnt like the little girl, but you were just worried about what would happen if she ran off at the wrong time.

“Again!?” The one who looked like a bigger version of Ethan spoke up again. “You lost my niece before?”

“Dude, it’s fine, she was okay, calm down.” he brushed off who you were assuming was his brother. “At least she found someone she knew?” She was okay after all.

“Well now that she’s back with you, I should probably get going.” You stood up and went to grab your bags.

“Wait, can I get you a coffee or something? Im sorry this keeps happening, I promise I’m a good parent.”

“I’m sure you are, I’m not judging. Just keep an eye on her? And it’s okay, I’m trying to cut back on the caffeine actually but thank you.” You didn’t need something for watching the little girl for a few minutes.

“Can I help you with your bags then? I’m not saying you can’t carry your own things because you definitely can, I’m just offering-” You couldn’t help but laugh at his rambling.

“I would love some help with the bags actually,” you smiled at him.

“Great! Gray, grab her bags, lets go.”

“Bro you offered not me,” he saw just how many candles you had in your bags and knew they weren’t going to be the lightest things to carry.

“Wow Grayson, you’re really not going to be nice and help the girl who kept your only niece safe while she ran off? Thats low,” he pointed out as his Grayson rolled his eyes.

“I can take them, it’s okay, don’t worry,” you went to grab them before his brother stopped you.

“No, I got them,” he grabbed them and was surprised as to how you had even managed to carry these bags out of the store. He fixed his grip on them, not expecting them to be as heavy as they were.

You started walking towards the exit while Sky kept talking to you about something with her stuffed dog she had at home. Ethan watched as you chatted along with his daughter even though you had no idea what she was even talking about. Either way, you seemed just as excited as she was about it.

You reached your car and opened up the trunk for Grayson to place the bags in. As you closed the trunk you remembered the small bag you had ended up carrying when Sky ran to her father.

“Oh hey, this is for Sky,” you held out the bag.

“Y/n no, its okay, you dont have to,” Ethan tried to stop you.

“I know, but she really liked it, and I think I already have enough for myself,” you heard Grayson mumble something under his breath as you said that and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Here, at least let me pay you back for it,” he went to put Sky down so he could grab his wallet.

“You don’t have to, its okay, really,” you handed him the bag.

“I’m going to feel really bad about this, let me get something for you,” not only did you help his daughter but you also gave her a candle which he knew wasn’t cheap.

“How about I just give you my number? In case she runs off again and you’re there, of course,” he offered to you instead.

“I- of course.” You felt your cheeks heat up and looked away to grab your phone. You handed it to him after you opened up a new contact for him to fill out. He handed it back and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh after seeing it.

Ethan (loses his daughter) Dolan

“Fitting,” you mumbled as you sent him a quick text just so he has your number. “I really should get going,” you weren’t trying to leave so fast, but you had a day full of errands to run.

“Oh right, of course, I’m sorry and thank you again for staying with her.”

“Don’t worry, I dont mind at all.” You went to get into your car when you heard Sky call after you.

“Bye bye Y/N!”

“Bye bye Sky!” You waved goodbye to her and you drove off.

Grayson came up next to Ethan and swung his arm around his brother.

“So,”

“So what Grayson?”

“So that’s Y/n huh? The one you said you met at the store and wouldn’t shut up about?” He teased his older brother.

“Dude shut up.” He headed back into the mall and knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it. It was going to be a long day.

~~~

It was Wednesday, which meant it was brunch day with your friends. You all liked to pick new places to try out together just to switch things up for fun.

You were listening to Brenda tell a story about what happened at her office when you heard a tiny familiar voice.

“Y/n!” You looked towards the door where you heard it coming from and saw Sky trying to drag an older blonde woman towards you. You were surprised by how much this little girl was able to drag her.

“I am so sorry about her,” the woman nodded down to her.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled and waved to Sky.

“Hey mom, I got this,” Ethan came through the door and took her from his mom and she tried to go back to you.

“Skylar relax please,” he picked her up and placed her on his hip.

“I just say hi daddy!” She pouted as she faced him.

“I know, but you can’t be dragging grandma to go say hi, okay?” She mummed a quick ‘sorry’ to him.

“Y/n, hey,” he finally turned his attention to you and your friends hid their laughs when they saw your cheeks heat up.

“You didn’t lose her this time,” you nodded to Sky on his hip.

“Well it’s a good thing she already found you for me then,” he smirked at you.

“Bro were waiting for you to order can you hurry up?” You heard his brother call from another table and saw their mother swat his arm.

“You should probably get back to them,” you didn’t want to hold up anyone.

“Yeah… it was nice seeing you again.”

“You too,” you smiled and said goodbye and waved to the little girl who looked torn between staying with the two of you and going back to go eat.

“So,” And here it starts. “So that’s Ethan? The guy who’s kid you keep finding? You never said how hot he was!”

“Shh!” You were quick to quiet down your friend not wanting him to hear considering he was only a few tables away.

“And you didn’t say there were two of them!”

“Brenda just shut up oh my god,” you put your face in your hands when you saw both of the twins smirking out of the corner of your eye.

After you managed to get through brunch and kept Brenda quiet with a few “accidental” kicks under the table, you were getting ready to leave. You said goodbye to her outside the restaurant and went to grab your keys from your bag when you heard someone call after you.

“Y/n! Hey, could I talk to you?” You were surprised to see Grayson coming outside after you.

“It’s about Ethan, see he gets nervous talking to girls and I-“ he was cut off by Ethan shoving him back into the restaurant.

“I don’t get nervous-“

“It’s okay,” you laughed it off and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Now that you’re here, I wanted to ask you something.” You nodded for him to continue.

“We keep meeting and I just- do you maybe wanna go out sometime?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smiled up at him.

“I’ll call you? And we can set it up?” He looked so hopeful.

“I’ll be waiting,” you waved your phone at him. “Goodbye Ethan, hopefully I’ll see you soon,” you waved at him and walked back towards you car not fully believing he just asked you out.

What you didn’t know was that he was thinking the exact same thing and he couldn’t believe you said yes.

@dolandolll

@dolanshellyes

@mysecretsaremydemons

@mmmmmgd

@ethandolxns

@dolantwinsfavss

@pgm-dolan

@knee-deep-in-feels

@godlydolans

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins fic #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins imagine #fic #mine

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byjove-cannibalcove · 5 years

Text

Hannibal AU for @pragnificent

will is called in to find the person responsible for the murder of roughly 15 people over the course of a single weekend up in new jersey The killings were really brutal, and disproportionately targeted a home where a party had been taking place, as well as a single police officer who had arrived to check in on them preliminary assumption is that it was a large group of people, possibly an occult ritual slaying of some kind, especially because it happened on friday the thirteenth and the teenagers had been having a scary movie watching party for some reason so anyways they get up there and are looking at the carnage and trying to figure out how the hell most of these murders were even pulled off, since it includes things like 'cut a head from someones shoulders' and 'a 6'4" football player was thrown onto a spike' and shit like that naturally they look into it and find out that there has been large scale killings in this general area every ten years or so for 30 years or so that the first one was the only one where the killer was caught (a little old woman, motivations unknown) and that while there is usually at least 1 survivor of each attack the survivor is in all cases driven too insane by the events to accurately describe anything that had happened (though for what its worth they, for the most part, do not tell cohesive stories, so you cant listen to them anyways) so anyways will is out here trying to get a vibe, get a feel for the person that did this, trying to understand why he targeted these people hes fifuring out shit like 'yeah this cop was a serial abuser' and 'a lot of these teenagers show evidence of having been having a lot of sex and underage drinking and drug use beforehand, all of which appears consentual' that the kids with records of wrong doing and bad reputations were killed most violently, that those that seem like good kids were mostly killed quickly and pretty painlessly and wills preliminary feelings are 'this killer was... driven... but not calculated... almost childish.. ' this leads team science to be like 'okay so like a fellow teenager?' and then argue like 'only if they are a GIANT teenager, we are talkign 6'5" based on some of these swings" and wills like no no not a teenager, like, an actual child, think Home Alone, a child with no concept of torture but who just wants to make the bad people go away, who feels like hes defending his home which leads the group to be like 'okay potentially a giant disabled person, cant be too many of those secreted away in the area' wills going out to sit by the lake days later and thinking how beautiful it is, how peaceful, serene, like you could just float out into the water here and stare at the moon and never look away he finds a used condom in the reeds by the dick, curls his nose in disgust, imagining them fucking in the water, or on the dock, how vulgar it would be there are homes along this lake, not here exactly but visible in the distance at the far other end. this is a big long lake with many nice little divots like this one, so many people live along it and have never been hurt, many families, lots of vacation homes. the only families that were ever killed on this lake usually lived there for a decade, more, before it happened, kids that were raised in those homes only killed during a party when they were vulgar when they disrespected the lake disrespected nature ruined it with their noise and their wild parties, drug use just the sort of thing a little old lady in 1979 might find worthy of death, might be driven mad by it takes a while but eventually they will dig up the information of the little old lady having had a disabled son, jason, who drowned in the lake a few years before Mrs vorhees went on her rampage, the information that he had drowned while attending a summer camp, while the teenagers on duty werent watching him hes long dead btu will latches onto it, that it fits perfectly, they tell him hes losing it will starts channeling mrs vorhees, wandering around the lake, whispering to her boy, cleaning up trash he finds on the lake shore mrs vorhees was by all accounts an incredibly kind woman, a bit of a radical even, very environmental, a bit of a hippie, kind to strangers, lover of children, cherished and adored her disabled son, wouldve loved this lake and the clean air, the beautiful nights would have wanted the lake to be clean, to stay quiet will spends all night cleaning the lake for no reason at all other than an odd compulsion to see at least one small section of it be as nice as it would have looked to Mrs vorhees eyes how she would have taught it to her son, to cherish that will is sort of losing his mind, snapping at everyone, he hates loud noise and drinking right now, doesnt like how careless it makes everyone, is avoiding drinking himself for now at least but the clarity hurts, he is staying up at night in dirty hotel rooms and wishing he was outside under the clear sky, he buys a tent and puts it up down by the lake, in the area he cleaned he knows he shouldnt, there is a killer on the loose in the area, but will knows he isnt what the killer is looking for in the night he sees a shadow go over his tent, thinks he hears the crunch of a boot in the leaves, he holds his breath, cant move he sees a knife cutting through the fabric and tenses but when he looks again the tent is fine he realizes hes sleep paralyzed and sits up suddenly in burst of motion, throws open the tent flap, stumbles into the clearing its empty the lake reflects the white face of the moon at him. their eyes meet and it is beautiful he returns to the hotel room with the sunrise and as he climbs the stairs the phone in his pocket rings, the door to his room is wide open, jack stands inside with the phone to his ear he sees the tent under wills bag he thinks will is losing it, it is insane to camp by the lake when there is a killer on the loose there will doesnt have an excuse jack tells him that they found the cemetary that jason was buried in (very difficult because records from the time are so fucking spotty and it was a tiny family cemetary for a family that no longer exists) and that he was clearly marked as a drowning victem, dead at age 10, so no, its not mrs vorhees son, and there are no relatives, so scrap that, they are back to square one jack orders will to go home and talk to hannibal because being here is not very helpful right now if hes gonna do crazy shit like camp next to the murder lake will talks to hannibal about it, with as much honesty as possible, and how certain he is that its jason hannibal convinces jack to exume jason. there is no living family to protest and it will settle will enough to get will back on track and stop focusing on it. jack agrees in a very irritated way they go to do it (jack team science will and hannibal as well, as support for will) and... yeah there is no casket in that spot. empty grave. a marker and nothing else. holy shit somethign something something eventually they manage to link shit up like 'okay maybe it was jason that killed the second camp full of counselors in training-- the person was described as a teenager, small in stature with a bag to hide their face. the killer in the 3rd instance was a grown man who slaughtered a fuckton of people over the course of a FEW days, and then was killed by a small child who fucked his head up so much that there was nothign identifiable left, not even teeth, so no one ever knew their identity, it literally might have been jason, it totally could have been a huge disabled man living in the woods and no one ever knew about it ((we are gonna pretend 'jason lives' didnt happen)) anyways its basically decided that 'yeah it literally might have been jason vorhees, growing up alone in the woods, who committed most of those murders... but hes dead now so this is a new killer' and its a very frustrating thing because jack is like 'cool we just answered some cold case files btu we still dont know wtd happened last weekend' and will is like NO I SWEAR IT STILL FEELS LIKE THE SAME GUY And is trying to claim that 'maybe the person that was killed by the kid was someone else' 'an accomplice?' 'no no this person-- jason-- he is entirely alone. only the memory of his mother. only her touch guiding his hands, only her words in his ears, he cant listen to anyone else, he cant... he cant collaborate' and hannibal sits with him out on the lake, lets will row out in a boat with him Will imagines Mrs Vorhees, feels the way she must have felt, looking out at this beautiful lake, the one that nearly her son from her, beautiful and calm and tranquil, while the teenagers behind her loudly partied, drank, didnt have a care in the world, and his teeth bare at the idea, and he hates them too, hates the way they would look at her son if they knew he was alive Hannibal, sitting across and watching him, tells will thatthe lake is beautiful ((of course hes looking at will rather than the water haha)) will tells him its deep and cold will looks deep into the water and sees the drowning boy. blinks to wash the image away. blinks again. again. "Hannibal??" hannibal asks what will sees will jumps in the water reaches for child jason snags the hand of an adult dragging him down its beautiful here one blue eyes looks into his, startlingly clear hannibals arms snag will around the middle and pull him back to the boat jason lets go without fuss ((he just wanted to touch wills hand, will who for a few moments had looked, to jason, like his mother)) back at shore will tells hannibal this, and he is shakign and shivering and frightened of the lake and of himself, because he must really be fucknig losing it asks for comfirmation that hannibal didnt see anyone in the lake hannibal does not give will that confirmation he asks if will is seeing ghosts will says its more like spirits "a lake spirit, then?" its such a silly thought but somehow will ends up out at the lake the next night, hannibal at his side. hannibal has dressed down, a warm cream sweater over his dress shirt for the late october chill, will in flannel, and they set up wills tent and clean the area around their campsite meticulously. hannibal warms food he brought from home over the fire and will fishes, cleans and guts his catch, the knife catching the white face of the moon as it flicks over the scales in the dark night will stands, jus tinside the circle of light by the fire, and channels mrs vorhees "Jason... jaaaasonnn" nothing he thinks hannibal will laugh at him, but he doesnt he concentrates more on the image in his mind, the kindly smile she wore in the photos he saw of her, the fierce protective instinct that lay behind those eyes, the fact that jason is out here, alone, confused, scared, and he feels protective of him too "Jason.. come here" a tiny intake of breathe behind him, and wills blinks his eyes open and Jason stands before him. not a child. a man. Tall. huge. a giant he is wet, the only sound he makes the slow dripping of lake water from his clothes onto the ground below. his clothes are ragged and encrusted with leaves and dirt. his face is covered by a battered hockey mask. the skin beneath it is grey the image is a terrifying one, the stuff of nightmares but he isnt a monster he is wills son will holds out his arms "Jason, come here" jason is still for a time, tilting his head only slightly as he tries to work out what will is, who he is but he comes slowly he is so much larger that will, but he kneels, down on one knee, looking up at will one blue eye shining, searching wills face for something will wraps his arms around him "My special boy" jason shudders and melts into the hug, mask pressed to wills stomach the machete drops to the ground, huge hands press to wills back, so gently, like will is made of glass, something too precious to jason to risk hurting will tells him that he knows he was scared, was confused, was lost and alone for so so long that he thought he had to be that way but he doesnt that he can come home with will he doesnt have to stay here anymore, he doesnt have to wait Jason makes a sound, the first sound he has made so far, a small, a tiny little sob, and his shoulder loosen, like a great weight has left his shoulders he seems to shrink in wills arms, and for a moment will is holding a child and then his arms are empty but not cold there is a warmth in him, something between his lungs, love, peace, hope, life in a way he has never before experienced it will wants to cry but it feels more like happy tears he holds them at bay, sniffles once, wipes his eyes with sleeves filthy with lake water arms wrap around him from behind, and it is hannibal again, pulling at him, and will turns, melts into hannibals hug, lets himself cry they dont stay the night at the lake, they pack up their campsite, put out the flames, walk through the darkness to the car, will being led behind hannibal by the hand like a child, too shaky and full to do it himself later, in therapy, they talk about it, briefly, and agree that jason is somewhere better now, that the killings will stop, that they dont need to tell jack about this, that jason was a special boy, a good boy who loved his mother very much, that maybe they are together now, somewhere and when will looks out at the moon from his porch that night, he feels a presence just behind him, a warm, protective presence, who is looking up at the moon with him, and he knows its true

#friday the 13th au #will graham #jason voorhees #hannibal #My writing

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spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia · 4 years

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Christmas Gift for

@tuthemurphy

“Ok, so it’s just a quick trip to aisle 3 to get him that Captain America action figure, then a dart to the counter, pay, leave and hopefully not get trampled!”

Zack clasped his hands. “If we’re lucky, everyone forgot to tear a page off of their calenders!”

“Zack, not only do people use phones nowadays, but this is Christmas shopping. How is this scary?”

Melissa Chase-Underwood had never truly understood her husband’s fears.

Well, that wasn’t true: She understood many of them (especially the “please let’s not be killed by this weird thing” ones).

But Christmas shopping? He wasn’t a sitcom character for crying out loud!

Standing in front of the toy store in the mall, bells jingling all over, Zack and Melissa Chase-Underwood prepared for what was easily a parent’s least favorite bit of Christmas shopping: The actual act of Christmas shopping.

Even Melissa, who found said fears unfounded, thought it was more fun to plan the list rather than actually go out and buy shit.

But well, someone had to give Percy Chase-Underwood a gift!

And Santa couldn’t! He was busy fighting off the Krakenn, and he had personally requested that she and Zack make it up for the boy!

An explosion sounded and Zack leapt into his wife’s arms, shaking.

“Zack, for crying out loud, it was the explosion shop!”

The store owner waved. “You want a little excitement in your life?”

“I’ve had a heart attack, I wouldn’t recommend.”, Zack barbed, and Melissa put him down.

“Look, honey, let’s just go in and out, it’s real easy! I promise it’s not scary!”

She then smirked. “And if it’s SOOO hard, I’ll hold your hand.”

Zack chuckled nervously. “The hand holding I like, it’s the fate tempting that I’m not fond of.”

Walking in, they were greeted with a surprisingly empty store.

Aisles and aisles of toys, board games, video games and assorted copies of the Fedralist Papers could be found. Truly, wonders of childhood!

Clean floors, wide open spaces, no bodily wounds…

“Am… Am I dead? Is this heaven? Where’s the real store?”, Zack asked, disbelieving.

Melissa laughed warmly. “See? What did I say? Nothing to be afraid of.”

Zack rubbed the back of his head. “I guess you’re right…”

Zack sighed. He was always so scared. So worried.

How did someone so brave like Melissa ever go for a weakling, a wuss like him?

Could he ever protect her like she did him?

Could he ever be good enough?

Melissa, sensing something was wrong, grabbed his collar and neared him to her. “Well, I’m always right. Like how this is the perfect moment for a kiss…”

Despite his previous concerns, the promise of a kiss melted his fears away and Zack closed his eyes and neared his lips.

But before anyone could smooch, a sound, most inhuman, could be heard from outside.

“Wait, what’s going on?”, Zack asked the counter lady, who was hiding behind her cash registor.

“Dude, you really think this place was empty? They all left for 5 minutes for dramatic tension!”

“WHY?!”

“ASK THE WRITER, NOT ME!”

Zack then glared at me, but dude, trust me, this pays off in the end!

“It fucking better, you…”, Zack started, but he couldn’t finish because my self esteem didn’t need the hit. That, and people were trampling over him.

Struggling in a sea of background characters, Zack went up for air after breathing in way too many wallets (more than a doctor advises, I assure you!), and shouted out for Melissa.

“Melissa! Where are you?”

Waving from the Barbie aisle (to her great displeasure), Melissa waved. “I’m ok! But what about you?”

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO TALK TO MY ELBOW? IT HAD COMMITMENT ISSUES!”

“No, I am not ok! Someone’s elbow is cheating on them, and frankly, it’s just really upsetting me now!”, Zack shouted back, and he tried to swim towards her, but instead got sweapt by the current towards the counter.

Melissa, realizing this was on her, tried to tarzan swing from the lamp, but it being a lamp in the real world and NOT A CARTOON (DOI), it broke and she fell into a ball pit.

“MELISSA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, Zack screamed dramatically.

“Calm your tiny tits, Underwood! I’m fine!”

“They’re not tiny, they’re petit!”

Melissa was, unfortunately, blocked by a really big capri Sun.

“You’re going to need to get there yourself. I’m not puncturing this thing and getting covered in factory grapes.”

“I mean, anything factory is disgusting, so…”

Zack looked down at the wave of people, chomping around like sharks.

Zack looked up at the rickety lamps and ladders, knowing they would spell disaster.

Zack looked at himself and realized…

He wasn’t good enough.

He couldn’t do this kind of stuff, this was a Milo thing, a Melissa thing, maybe even a Cavendish thing, but definitely not a Zack thing!

“I BEG your pardon?!”, Cavendish protested, but he was removed from the story, so we can continue with no further interruptions.

Zack shuddered as he held himself, realizing that he was a failure as a husband and a father.

Looking at his wife, who was still underneath a giant capri sun, he apologized.

“I’m sorry, Melissa! I can’t get our son his toy! I’m a failure!”

He went down to his knees. “A FAILURE!”

Seconds passed as Zack felt like crap.

And then, his dear beloved passed on some words of wisdom.

“…Zack, are you kidding me?”

Zack looked up to see Melissa doing her best to keep the capri sun up.

“Honey, this low self esteem thing is unnecessary! You’ve faced off against way harder stuff than this!”

Zack considered her words as she continued to say them, fighting her hardest to encourage the man she loved.

“You’ve faced off Pistachions, aliens, hemerraoids, and more weird things I don’t have the will to say!”

Zack began to stand up, feeling a little more confident.

“I believe in you! Why do you think I married you?”, Melissa shouted out, now submerged underneath capri sun.

Zack was willing to try…

But still, he was afraid of failing his son.

Continuously hesitating to make the jump, it seemed hopeless.

That is…

Until he saw that there was one Captain America left…

And someone was reaching for it…

Eyes turning red, and breath turning slow, awesome action music began to play as Zack realized he was one step away from truly failing his son…

And he was not ok with that.

“OVER. MY. DEAD. BODY.”

Suddenly leaping in inhuman speed, Zack swung on the rickety lamps onto the ladders, as if they weren’t going to break because he willed them not to.

The people tried to eat him up, but he distracted them with coupons, and using his hands, he actually flapped them enough to fly through the sky towards the Captain America toys.

Landing gracefully, Zack observed his surrundings: The toy was in reach, but the hand, which now has a handlebar moustache, was reaching closer.

He was above it, standing on the shelf, but would it be enough?

“MWAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”, The hand somehow laughed. “You lose, Underwood! I have the high ground!”

Zack didn’t even bat an eye as he grabbed the toy easily.

“BUT HOW?!”, The hand cried.

“Ok, first of all, if anything, I had the high ground. Secondly, it’s right there. And thirdly…”

He whispered in its ear.

“NO ONE FUCKS WITH MY BOY AND GETS AWAY WITH IT. THIS TOY IS HIS.”

Easily walking over all the heads of the sea of customers, Zack bought the toy and extracted Melissa from the Capri Sun.

“You did good, Underwood… You did good…”, she complimented as they walked out of the mall.

“I did, didn’t I? I guess you are right, there really is nothing to be scared of…”, Zack started, before suddenly seeing a squirrel.

“AAAAAAARGGHGHGHGHG! OH MY GOD NO! DANGEROUS! DANGEROUS CREATURE! ARF! ARF ARF, I SAY!”

As Zack chased the squirrel away, Melissa rolled her eyes affectionately and kissed his cheek.

“My hero…”

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noxus-the-venomous-blog · 5 years

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Part 3 The Noxious Agenda

“Um...hello?” Ed’s voice broke as he tried to speak; his throat had dried in the long walk through the desert.

He had found himself at a small shack that gave him a heavy ‘get off my lawn’ vibe. But he had followed the directions to the letter and was convinced there was more to this place than he was seeing. He took a few steps slowly towards the door. With each footstep he shifted his weight slowly, checking for pressure plates in the ground or beneath the scattered wood scrap. When Ed reached the door he placed his hand gently on the doorknob and slightly wiggled it to check for traps. He rubbed his thumb along the mechanism. The more he stared, the more he prodded, the more slight movements he made the more he slowly realized that he was wasting his time fondling a perfectly normal door knob, and with the correct amount of shame and embarrassment he sighed and went inside.

The shack looked somewhat lived in. There were a few fake dead fish on the wall, although the smell of the room itself made you consider the possibility they were still alive. A coffee table bearing an amber ashtray sat in front of a small TV made to accept antenna signals the world no longer offered. But this couldn't be it. Ed wasn't new to this type of world and began to search the place for whatever he thought might open it up. A secret ladder under a carpet, or maybe a fake vent with a crawlspace. As his search turned up nothing he decided he’d even be satisfied with a spinning bookshelf, but everything he touched was dull and ordinary. Pictures of family, fishing magazines, television remotes that outnumbered televisions, but no buttons switches or mechanisms. He stepped outside in frustration and then saw dust on the horizon. A small snake of raised dirt signifying someone was approaching. He sat on the porch to act casually and began to think up lies to explain why he's there.

He was a traveling salesman. Since this land clearly belonged to a dirt farmer he was obviously there to sell shovels. Why does he have no shovels you ask? Because they would be heavy and hard to carry but he sells a service to help people order the shovels. Why does he not have the paperwork and order forms? Did he say he sold shovels? No he means he repairs them. In our modern day too many people buy new things and throw the old away. That’s why he’s here to offer cheap repairs on shovels and all dirt farming tools. Where is his equipment you ask? He is an all natural smithy who uses sand and rocks found in yards to help his trade instead of spending money on fancy tools. Edward decided this was an easy lie to argue, and that was a good thing, since by that time a small shabby car had made it to the stoop he trespassed on. Time to sell some shovel service.

The window rolled down. “Get in quick scrub the homeowner is on his way!” The side door opened. Ed was elated to see the masks he had familiarized with Noxious agents. Without fully understanding what was happening he quickly jumped in the car and sped off. The driver started laughing and the passengers, Ed included, contagiously joined in. there was an air of excitement in the vehicle.

“That was damn close. Thats old man Adam’s house and he's really big on the no trespassers lifestyle. You went left at the giant V shaped rock instead of right didn't you?” the driver said glancing from Ed to the road and back.

“Yes sir,” Ed confirmed.

“I swear we’re handing out the wrong directions to potentials. Last three new agents went the same way and caught a fate worse than death. Name’s James by the way,” the man introduced himself as he began to loosen up his shoulders and his driving habits.

“A fate worse then death?” Ed asked as he felt his stomach sink into the seat as some form of near death car sickness.

“Yeah. I heard they got converted into nationalists and are made to hand out anti-Jewish pamphlets at the mall,” james said with a sarcastic smile. He was a sturdy looking guy but had a soft face. His purple medical mask hung from his ear, allowing him to smoke a cigarette. His well-worn green hoodie hung off the back of his head as it draped over a semi ripped black t-shirt. He seemed to take the uniform as seriously as he took his driving considering he continued to make great eye contact with the conversation while pretending to watch the road.

“I heard they missed Adam’s house and wandered through the desert and got lost and eventually became coyotes. That’s how all coyotes are made!” a woman in the passenger seat exclaimed, turning her body to look back at Ed. Her mask was pink and she had a loose hood hanging from her shoulders. The theme was becoming apparent. “My name is Misty. Not really but get it?” she said enthusiastically while leaning in towards him, then leaning further.

Ed had concluded that if he did not answer she would soon be in the back seat. “Yeah I get it,” he lied, “so you guys work for the Noxious Agenda? Venoms right?”

“Toxins,” the young man to the sharing the back seat with him clarified. He seemed to be the only one with the uniform in order as the hood met a pair of goggles both a seemingly unintended shade of black. He mask secured tightly, a white scarf of some sort. “Rank one, name’s Oin. Like coin without the C,” he said before pulling out a phone and focusing in on it.

James again recklessly glanced back.“Yee Venoms are rank two. They’re the paper pushing assholes we all hope to be one day. Were called Toxins, rank 1, and we do the real work! The stuff worth bragging about! The front line adventures!” he said proudly, describing what clearly seemed like disposable heroes. “Youll learn all of this in orientation. What made you join?”

“People. The way they act. I saw a speech from Noxious online describing the problem with negative mentalities and I was inspired. I hit the world with a smile and motivation but felt like it gave me nothing but hostility in return” Ed continued his somewhat rehearsed speech, as he expected this and a few other basic questions and wanted to seem enlightened on the matter, “then the speech made sense to me. The people who met me with hostility would have chosen positivity if they just saw how it could help them. Lord Noxious would have them breathe in positivity and see how all of us would be happier,” he explained, hoping all important notes were mentioned.

“Wow Lynn would love you. You could be a star in the propaganda department with a backstory like that sheesh.” James looked back at him with a humble smile. He sighed, “so the reason HOLY CRAP NO!!!” he shouted as he swerved to not hit a small family of daring rabbits jetting across the street, “poor little dumbasses. Anyway I dig ya story. It’s intense. I’m only here ‘cause Noxious personally gassed my dad and he quit drugs and i was like omigosh that’s the answer, sign me up,” James explained, glancing back having not learned his lesson.

“Fight drugs with drugs,” Misty added while leaning her chair back slowly, stealing the precious few inches of room Eds knees was resting at.

“Hey it worked. Ok we’re almost here so get good,” James said as he pulled his mask up and secured it. Him and misty seemed synchronised in pulling there hoodies up and like that both of them were transformed from a car full of menacing young adults into a band of knaves with concealed features. Ed felt exposed with no mask but he was somewhat prepared. He pulled a scarf out and wrapped it over his mouth then covered his head with it. It was black and lime green, his attempt to fit in better with the color scheme he had seen on tv. They pulled up to another random shack not too unlike the one he had just been whisked away from.

They parked the car and all walked cautiously towards the door. Ed was stopped in mid step by James who pointed to the ground in front of him. Ed peered at the small plank by his feet as James’s hand held him in place. When he squinted he finally saw it. A very small wire peeking out of the side of the wood. A tiny glimpse of a mechanism. Ed was as happy as he possibly could have been. THERE WERE FLOOR PAD TRAPS! No one had ever been so excited to almost be murdered by a machination. It made him feel terrified and yet reaffirmed. He passed over it with the rest of the group, careful to only step on visible dirt and not trash or any stray objects. When he got to the door he began studying the doorknob, this time with gleeful excitement. He turned it slightly and felt around it till he found a small opening on the top of the brass sphere. He faced away from it, covered his mouth and nose with his elbow and gave it a full turn as gas suddenly shot out of the hole to where his face would have been. He looked back at the other agents. James was soundlessly clapping and giving obnoxious thumbs up gestures. Ed could see a smile behind the mask, warping its shape.

Ed entered the small shack. Deja vous. On the wall were pictures of the fat man prototype nuke from WW2. This felt better he thought. He walked over to the small coffee table and felt under it... There it was. A small toggle switch. He flipped it and heard machinery as the room adjacent to him began lifting, revealing a stairway below the floor.

“Took me ten minutes to find it when I was first here, what about you?” Misty asked, walking in with Oin.

“Way less,” Oin replied, “the coffee table is out of place, there's nowhere to sit near it.

“JAMES HURRY UP!!!” Misty yelled then looked towards Ed, “hey go rush him he's behind the car.”

Ed made his way out there but then slowed down as he heard the streaming sound of James relieving himself.

James looked at him. “Hey i'm on my way. You might wanna use the tree next, once we go underground there's about a ten minute walk down till we get to a bathroom”

“Yea that would be best...” Ed said, walking over to the tree. Ed started to play with his zipper then looked back at James who was leaning on the car. He looked again at his zipper and again at James.

“Nervous wee wee. Gotcha,” James said before walking away.

Ed waited a moment till James was out of sight then pulled a small sphere out of his pocket, making sure to keep it in front of him and out of view. He pressed a button on it and the sphere blinked twice. He knew this meant the tracking functionality was working. He then hid it in his pants and made his way back to the shack. The day didn't start well and clearly bad intel was shared but at the very least the button to release the hidden stairway was right where his boss had said it would be. He only hoped everything else in this infiltration would go as smoothly so he could get away from this cult as fast as possible.

#oc #original content #original character #Noxus

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

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OUAT 2X06 - Tallahassee

Who’s ready for a vacay?! I’m thinking Florida!

...I was kind of hoping for Disney, but *shrugs* whatever.

Anyway, under the cut for my thoughts on this OUAT vacation.

Press Release With the hopes of finding a magical compass that could help her and Mary Margaret get back to Storybrooke, Emma takes a journey with a not-too-trustworthy Captain Hook up a treacherous beanstalk in an attempt to steal the item from a murderous giant. Meanwhile, Emma’s past is revealed to be anything but magical when she meets up with a fellow thief who wants to make an honest woman out of her. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past This was a really well put together segment! What makes it work for me is the care they brought to Neal while constructing his backstory in regards to Emma. It’s actually been a while since I’ve watched an episode with Neal in it, and I forgot about a lot of his charm and dedication. At the same time, the episode doesn’t make Neal perfect at any point, showing him be a thief and getting angry, exasperated, and even a little stupid. That stuff makes the betrayal of Emma’s trust, for as saddening as it is, feel like something that could feasibly happen, especially as the audience can interpret to some extent (Until it’s explicitly laid out a few episodes later).

I have an unpopular opinion among my fellow Emma fans. That is, I feel like she’s a character that doesn’t necessarily need a ton of backstory. That’s because episodes like these are so impactful for the exact reason that they're rarities. when someone lets Emma down in just one flashback, we understand how important that moment was to Emma and how it shaped that one facet of her personality so specifically. well, I feel like had they had too many Emma flashbacks, they wouldn’t have been as effective because they would have been akin to laying on a bed of nails: An overabundance of sob stories just makes one feel exhausted more than sympathetic and so much more of Emma’s depth is revealed from the parts of her that are not spoonfed, such as her one off lines about the effects of her lonely upbringing. Present I’ll go over this soon, but trust is a big theme of this episode, and Emma’s trust for Killian in the present is framed to be at a contrast with her trust for Neal in the past. And to a degree and not a small one, that does come through. There are a lot of subtle moments that show growth (Killian being able to read Emma, Emma confessing that she was in love once, Emma’s concern for Killian’s wellbeing). However, I feel like for in order for Emma’s betrayal at the end to make more sense as a move that frustrates but is still understandable, they should’ve shown a bit more growth in Emma’s trust for Killian. As it stands, their interactions feel like they more or less reset at the start of every new scene between them. Emma makes her distrust for Killian clear, the two of them do something (Climbing, knocking out Anton, exploring Anton’s castle), one of them gets in physical danger or something is otherwise exposed, and 1% of trust is added. I really feel like there should’ve been a bit more warmth or more obvious progress because not only on its own, but especially when compared to Emma and Neal’s story, it’s not as effective when Emma locks him up because I can’t help but feel like that’s something she probably would’ve done at the end of “The Doctor” too. What changed and does she regret her choice? It doesn’t seem to be the case because there’s not much within the segment itself to compare the moment to.

On a more positive note, in addition to just Killian’s interactions with Emma, we get a lot of insight into his character on his own. For instance, Killian, despite working for Cora, doesn’t trust her, adding to the later-on emphasized concern for self preservation. We also see the first of Killian’s signature impatience. It’s weird. After over 100 years in Neverland, Killian has definitely shown how patient he can be, but as his revenge gets closer, practically insight, we see how that patience just drops to nothing. One could conceivably even call that a fault in his character, but I’d argue against that given how we've also seen later on instances where Killian has had no patience with his revenge right in front of him, so it does make sense. It's also very interesting parallel to Rumple, who in later episodes is shown to experience similar behavior. All Encompassing The issue and theme of trust (Or rather, destroyed trust) is prevalent through the two main segments. In the past, Neal betrayed Emma’s trust, and taking from that experience, Emma betrays Killian’s trust (And to a smaller extent, Snow’s trust through not telling her about her favor from Mulan). This episode also has a really nifty parallel to its own predecessors. Now, in a lot of episodes of season 2 thus far, we’ve see characters internalizing a bad lesson in the past, but rejecting it (mostly) in the present (Rumple being more cooperative with Belle’s needs, Regina refusing to inflict the same pain on Henry that Cora inflicted on her, and Regina being able to let go of Daniel). However, for the first time this season, we see a character who internalized that lesson in the past (protect yourself because you don't know when someone will betray you, even if you trust them), but actually refused to move on from it in the present. Emma, despite seeing and even acknowledging that she does to a large extent trusts Killian, still leaves him cuffed atop the beanstalk (“I can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about you.” Insights - Stream of Consciousness -I love Killian in his robes! He just looks so snuggly, even more so than usual! -”Bad form” makes what I believe is its first appearance! -Killian, watch that! That’s your soon-to-be mother-in-law talking! -I like how the mythology of the giants factors into the present story. Keeping in tune with one of the secondary themes of the episode -- that things are never what they seem -- the giant’s were described as brutes (As per Killian’s story), they were (As we later learn) more like isolationists and he war of giants and men was flipped from the known storyline. Watching this episode with the knowledge from “Tiny” already in mind makes all the scenes where the giant’s history is described so gruesome. -Has anyone ever written a fic where Cora actually does accompany Killian up the beanstalk? -”Emma Swan. Good name.” Am I the only one to connect this to Rumple’s “Emma. What a lovely name” line? -I know Neal gets a lot of flack for the “women” line, but I’m not entirely convinced that that was what he was going for. Instead, I feel like he’s playing to the cop’s sexism. I feel this way both because of the really over-the-top-but-in-a-way-that-one-can-tell-it’s-fake weasel-y smile he gives the cop and the “we” he says regarding his and Emma’s escape once the cop goes away. -”You’re not gonna argue with me?” “Would it do you any good?” I like that subtle display of Emma and Snow’s growing bond! -”Well, you never forget your first.” Now I really want to know what Killian’s first beanstalk was like! -Does anyone know what an Apollo bar is? Like, I know that it’s a fake candy bar, but what’s inside? -Random dude in the shop: Just yell “He’s stealing!” And why did you guys not chase after them?! -”Are you sure? Is this...what you really want?” MY POOR EMMA!!!! She’s been let down so many times! -I just realized that after the events of “Awake,” everyone in town had nightmares for months! How much you want to bet there was an Insomnia Club that was formed afterwards? XD -I like how Aurora’s grown to trust Snow so much given their rocky start! (Sleeping Snow, anyone?) -”It’s where the Final Battle was.” I know A&E had absolutely no knowledge as to the Season 6 finale, but I can’t help but snicker anyway. -”It’s rum, and a bloody waste of it.” I feel like this line would’ve worked better with that deleted scene from when they were climbing the giant’s beanstalk. -”Maybe I was once.” I find that this is such a good acknowledgment of trust that Emma now has in Killian. -How strong is Killian that he can get such a loud sound out of that simple pounding with a bone? -I love Anton’s costume! It’s so cuddly! -”I’m the worst human around!” I wonder how much Killian truly believes that. Like don’t get me wrong, Killian’s a baddie and a bad baddie, but does he consider himself worse than Rumple or was that line just part of the ruse? Because it’s Killian, I could honestly buy either. -Jack is so fucking extra. Who puts their own name on their sword?! -Emma just has the most beautiful hair ever! -I love seeing how much Emma’s willing to fight for her happiness when she knows she has it. As soon as Neal tells her he can’t go to Tallahassee, but instead needs to go to Canada, Emma’s all ready to go! -I sometimes forget just how Neal and Baelfire are the same person. It’s not like it’s executed badly or anything, but it’s such a change. -”You know your rights?” I’m not a cop by ANY means, but I’m pretty sure the cop has to actually say the rights (Correct me if I’m wrong). -”We do it side-by-side and fast.” Another line that shows Emma’s increasing trust for Killian! -”You gotta promise that you’ll be there for me.” “I promise.” LIAR! -”Money’s not what she needs.” August, she has roughly ten years left before she can break the curse AND she’s an ex-con. She might need that extra money! August, I’m not liking you in this episode! -How did August send Neal a postcard in his wooden form? -*Bites Anton to get freed* Emma, I don’t know what your dental plan (Or lack thereof) is, but stick with it! Also, more characters should bite to solve their problems! XD -Emma’s gotten so comfortable with a sword! -”You’re wrong.” [About all humans being killers] Emma, saying that while waving the sword isn’t helping your case. -”Now go before I change my mind.” Anton, you precious bean! You can see him trying and failing to be a badass! -”A jump from a beanstalk.” You’re one hell of a daredevil, Emma! Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? Emma and Snow getting back to Storybrooke - We get both half a means of a return journey as well as a future means of communication between the realms. Favorite Dynamic Emma and Anton - I honestly stuck this here because I figure I have talked (And will talk) about the other main dynamics, so why not go a touch more obscure?! So, what I like about Emma and Anton’s connection is something that connects her to both Neal and Killian, but gets its due emphasis here: Emma and Anton believe themselves to be alone and have learned not to trust others. And Emma, after understanding Anton’s story, position, and his victimization at the hands of those who bastardized his history, she shows him understanding and compassion, and Anton returns that. Writer We’ve once again got one new writer (Christine Boylan) and one old writer (Jane Espenson). It’s a pretty decent premiere! The past segment especially was fantastic, painting a story about Emma and Neal that was simple, but it worked for that reason. The present segment, well I have a bit more issues with it. I feel like there was this tug of war. they wanted to keep the characters consistent but also tell a story about trust and how Emma’s past ruined that growing trust, and while it’s possible to do that, the journey needed more room for more overt growth. Now, I like the more subtle shows of growing trust (As I said before, confessions of love from the past and concern for each other), but it also felt like those subtle bits didn’t really move Emma and Killian anywhere meaningful, making the climactic moment fall flat, and that’s frustrating because I can't help it feel like this was easily fixable. Why couldn’t Emma and Killian have a moment where they were talking a bit more comfortably, perhaps right before the scene before Anton re-enters the castle, and Killian says something that echoes something Neal said to her in the past segment (Think like when Felix called Calhoun a “dynamite gal” in Wreck It Ralph)? It would’ve contributed more to the crossroad that Emma found herself at the end of the episode and would make her decision (Again) more understandable for as frustrating as it is. Rating 7/10. I really hate giving this episode this score. It’s an okay score for an okay episode, but after the first five episodes of the season scored 10’s or Golden Apples, it feels worse than it actually is to have to put that number down. I loved this walk through of Emma’s experiences with trust. It paints this really vivid image of the types of disappointments that Emma has seen through her lifetime of abandonment, but gave a good deal of nuance and understanding to Neal, someone who ordinarily may have been just straight up villainized. I took points because I felt that there could’ve been just a bit stronger of a growing trust between Killian and Emma. I felt it, but to be a parallel to what Neal and Emma had, I just wish it was stronger because it really just feels like Emma did exactly what she would’ve done to Killian in the previous episode. I want to see her journey and previous experiences shape her actions and while I felt like it was done okay, it was still too weak to contribute to what should’ve been a more tragic payoff. Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Captain Swan - “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.” “I’d despair if you did.” Those two lines are just the best! Everything one would want from chemistry to animosity is there and it’s just fantastic! The same goes for the famous “I love a challenge line!” Also, in two weird CS/SF parallels, (1) Neal calls he and Emma a we, whereas Emma calls she and Killian “we,” and (2), Neal calls their escape “home” to Emma in the past and Emma does the same with Killian in the present. Also also, I just genuinely love the way Emma worries for Killian after the giant falls, shouting “Hook” as loud as she can. Also, also, also, “Everything we need is right in front of us.” Note how the two of them were looking at each other. Swan Fire - I like how in Emma and Neal’s first scene, Emma raises an impressed eyebrow to Neal as he’s lying to the cop. It’s such a sign that she’d found a kindred spirit! It’s also reinforced when Emma smiles at Neal’s second request for drinks. I like how Neal upgrades their lied about relationship from “girlfriend” to “wife,” subtly signifying how their relationship has truly grown. Also, “this little guy saved us!” I know that was totally not intended to be about Henry necesaarily, but fuck it, I’mma imagine it! Also, the kiss afterwards was adorable as all hell! As was the conversation in the hotel room, and it makes their tragic downfall all the more tragic! Also, there’s a Snowing parallel I just noticed! In the hotel scene in the flashback, Emma talks about how dreamcatchers (Which is kind of her thing with Neal) kept the bad dreams away. Meanwhile, Charming used a candle (Fire = Balefire) to ward the nightmares off from Snow. Also also, “what you want” seems to be a bit of a line between them, akin to “I will always find you” and “I’m a survivor,” said twice by Emma -- once to confirm and again to reaffirm her dedication to Neal! Finally, I just love how Neal initially stands up to August on Emma’s behalf when he says he’s her guardian angel. ()()()()()()()()() Thank you for reading! And to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales to putting this project together and helping me keep the lights on!

Next time, let’s hang out with some moon kids! Season 2 Tally (57/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (20/60) Jane Espenson (17/50) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (10/50) David Goodman (10/30) Robert Hull (10/30) Christine Boylan (7/30)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 2x06 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat #ships mentioned #swan fire #Captain Swan

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silver-spider-art · 6 years

Text

Okay... so I had horrible writer's block and couldn’t work on the other projects I had going so I decided to make this self-indulgent AU that no one asked for. All because I had a really good idea for Rhys and the other story is a Tim story. I’m going to actually try and finish the whole thing before posting it to AO3 for once, but I thought I’d put a teaser up? Maybe if someone is interested in being a sounding block for ideas hmu. I love talking this stuff out with fellow fans. ^^;;

It's going to be a modern AU (slightly future tech), domestic, assassins/spies, transgender coming out story, autistic characters (POV who doesn’t know he’s autistic yet), fake marriage, pinning, slow burn, awkward flirting, secrets and betrayals, faked deaths, misunderstanding... basically just all the shit I love combined with a stupidly personal exploration of my own identity issues. I’m by no means an expert but the aspects relating to autism and transmasculinity are based on my own experiences and research. I say this because they both will play major roles in later plot points. I have everything but the ending plotted out.

This will eventually include Rhack (fake marriage), Rhysothy (pinning), Rhysha (pinning), Okay Dad Jack, Trans!Tim, Trans!Rhys, Atlas!Rhys, Dark!Rhys, autistic teenage Angel, side characters or cameos from most the rest of Tales, BL1, BL2, and the PreSequel

Anyway... for your interest:

a teaser that is 4k words >_>

tw for death, blood, and dubious morals

featuring Rhys, Zer0, and Sasha

(the title comes from The Village by Wrabel)

unbetaed, edited while tired

Written In Blood

Ch 0.5 (there's something wrong with)

Rhys really did love his work on days like these. It certainly wasn't what his parents had wanted for him when they'd dreamed up the future plans for their rosy-cheeked child. Hell, it wasn't even what he'd wanted for himself when he'd gone off to college to get his double major in business and computer science. Back then, fresh-faced and full of hope and ambition, Rhys had dreamed of owning his own company. He’d practiced inspiring speeches into the mirror and designed business cards for his future company, dreaming of tech mobiles or ambitious startups in Silicon Valley. So full of boundless ambition and idealistic dreams. Even as the reality of it had set in, unpaid internships and a soul-crushing entry position in one of the big five, he’d still longed for more. That one day, if he worked hard enough, he’d be the one making decisions in the huge cushy corner office with a view over the entire city instead of filing meaningless paperwork… or getting his boss coffee… or fending off lewd sexual advances…

But life tended to take strange turns. Back in those days, this had been one of the companies he’d applied to. In another life, he could be on his way to one of the many cubicles right now. Funny, how life goes.

Leaning back against the elevator wall, Rhys inspected himself in the mirrored surface, smoothing back a few stray strands of auburn hair that had escaped the expensive product holding it all into styled perfection. Sharp and dangerous, if he said so himself. And he did. Rhys didn’t care what Yvette said, he looked cool. His charcoal suit fit like a glove, all long lines and tailored seams, making his already long legs even longer. Heeled boots pushed him just over six feet and frankly made his ass look great. Carefully he adjusted his skinny tie (which was also very in style, thank you very much Yvette), focusing on maneuvering his prosthetic arm through the sensors attached to his chest and shoulder. The best money could buy and it had been worth every penny. None of the other arms he'd ever owned could come close to matching its fine motor control and while some were put off by the obvious robotical nature of it, Rhys reveled in it. It was more than human. A symbol of how he was rising above the limitations of his own body. Function and beauty in one. Exactly the aesthetic he was striving for. Unlike his left eye which was entirely cosmetic. A vanity purchase his *supposed* best friends still mocked him for. The iris of the prosthetic eye was inhumanly blue made tiny sapphires set in a gold ring. It twinkled and sparkled under the harsh fluorescent light as Rhys smoothed down his suit jacket, eyeing the elevators numbered lights. As the doors opened, he was moving before they’d even stopped, sliding out into the group waiting to descend.

Keeping a sneer etched into his face, Rhys passed men and women in corporate approved orange, blues, and greys who peeked nervously up at him as he strode past their cubicles. A raised eyebrow and his clearly too important for this building wardrobe sent them hurriedly back to work, trying their best to avoid his further attention. No one wanted to make eye contact for fear he was the boss's boss or some other unknown overlord. Rhys really did feel he had the look of it, with the Maliwan tie clip and crisp orange waistcoat. He’d never minded Maliwan’s colors, he would have fit in well here… in another life. But never one of them, he overlooked the terrified office drones with a frown, eye scanning the room for his goal. He was made for more than that unappreciated drudgery in too loud and overcrowded spaces.

It had been quite the wakeup call during his first internship out of college, to discover just how grey the morality of the corporate world really was. He knew the giant megacorps didn’t value human life, not when there was money to be made, and Rhys had wanted that money. He really had. But it had been something else entirely to realize that competition amongst his fellow workers not only included manipulation, bribery, embezzlement, and social backstabbing… but literal backstabbing as well. Anything went… as long as you increased the quarterly profit margin and met your deadline (and didn’t get caught). Rhys’s moral might have been loose, but that was a step further than he could handle. When his internship had ended, he hadn’t sought employment.

How funny, the way things could change so quickly.

Weaving his way through the sea of cubicles, Rhys neared the corner office. He couldn’t afford to linger long. The security clearance badge pinned to his vest had easily passed a cursory inspection and his hacking program had gotten him added to the list of visitors for the day, but the longer he stayed the greater the chance he’d been seen through. Pausing at the water cooler he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to fetch the lock picks stored in his arm's hidden compartment, barely able to contain the smug grin that fell over his features. He'd beeped, of course, when he'd passed through the metal detector so many floors below but wouldn't he, with that obvious metal arm. He'd laughed and flirted with the guard while they'd hand scanned him with the wand, with them apologizing but, "rules are rules, you know?" Rhys sympathized with them in easy comradery, showing off his technological wonder of an arm for their amazement before being waved on through. Really, it was all too easy sometimes. Maliwan should be ashamed of themselves.

Letting his eye wander the room to make sure his path was clear, all that remained between him and files worth a very cushy paycheck was one locked door. If everything had gone to plan, Mr. Vertis would be tied up downstairs with Sasha for another hour at least, leaving Rhys plenty of time to get through whatever paltry security protocols where in place. Sliding in close to the door and blocking the lock with his body, he kept his shoulders relaxed. Nothing to be alarmed about, nothing out of the ordinary. He hoped if he chanted it in his head loud enough, somehow all the eyes in the room would remain at their computers. He strained to listen for any approaching footsteps over the click-clack of typing all around him. As he worked his picks into the lock, he felt more than heard, his phone go off, vibrating against his leg. Cursing under his breath, Rhys focused on twisting the lock open with deft movements, all was still within Mr. Vertis’s darkened office so whatever issue Sasha ran into could wait until he wasn't in the open. God, he hoped they hadn't miscalculated the mark's tastes. He still recalled all too vividly the time he'd been flat out rejected by a previous mark for being a twink. As much as Rhys had been relieved to stop flirting with the asshole, the mistake had cost them over five grand as they’d scrambled to improvise.

~*~*~

As the lock finally clicked open, Rhys slid gratefully into the darkened office. His sigh of relief, however, was cut abruptly short by the knife suddenly pressed against his throat. Behind him, he heard the door seal once more, blocking out prying eyes… and escape.

"Uninvited guest, you just set off my trap card. Your death approaches.”

The cooling body slumped over the desk with the dark stain seeping ominously into the carpet should have been enough to quell Rhys’s fool mouth, but he *knew* that voice. Or at least the trademark speech pattern tinged with a robotic warble.

"Oh- ooh my god," Rhys whispered, his heart pounded loudly in his ears, "I... um..." he fought to keep still as his body went to war with itself. Fear dropping out his stomach even as he felt his face heat, "I just- I just want to say, I think you’re really cool."

That was probably the least professional thing he could do in this given situation... but Zer0 was a *legend*. The mysterious assassin, known only as a number, lived and breathed aesthetic. It was anyone’s guess if Zer0 actually was Japanese, but the assassin certainly borrowed heavily from the culture, wielding a chokutō inspired sword and speaking in haiku. According to rumor and fan site gossip (which Rhys in no way followed at all), Zer0 was skilled in complicated origami and could write kanji. Even Zer0's gender was hotly debated by fans. Everything about the person beside him, Rhys admired.

But truthfully, right now, he really wished the assassin hadn’t snuck up on his blind side. It was making getting a good read on the killer quite difficult. The blade shifted, making Rhys’s breath catch. As quick as his reflexes had gotten over the past years, there was no way he could pull out the hidden knife from his prosthetic and turn before Zer0 opened veins. It had barely touched him but the finely honed edge simple exuded sharpness and death. This is why Rhys avoided combat in general. Being one-eyed was a fatal disadvantage in situations like this. Actually, there wasn't ever a good time to lack depth perception. But there was a time and place for cursing his body and this really wasn't it. Not when it felt like the blade might nick his throat with every shallow breath.

“Praise won’t stay my blade, bathed in blood is just as good. Fool to be a fan.”

"Fan? Oh god, no" Rhys squeaked, cursing his vocal cords for their utter betrayal. He forced laugh that sounded too harsh. He wasn’t an obsessed fan… it was… professional interest, "I just admire your work is all, your craftsmanship. I mean, everyone in the business knows of Zero," his laugh pitched up, was that blood running down his chest or sweat? His hand trembled, the flesh betraying him in a way that the metal never did. His mouth joined the betrayal as he babbled, words flowing out without filter, "Not that I’m even close to being in your league.”

He must sound like a panicked idiot. Which... he was. He was going to embarrass himself *and* die. Rhys wasn't entirely sure which one was worse. And Zer0 hadn't said anything or moved. Was he just going to stand there? This was lasting too long. His shirt was already sticking to him with what Rhys truly hoped was just sweat... though that was bad enough. And the walls. The walls were too thin, Rhys could hear the oblivious idiots on the other side of the wall still typing away on their keyboards, the sound burrowing its way into his skull as he strained to get a read on the assassin.

“I mean-" Rhys blurted, "I’m just here for the computer. No mind to me if the guy is dead right? I mean… my client won’t really be happy… but it doesn’t bother me,” he quickly assured, unable to stop the stream of words from leaving his mouth, “Ha ha, I’ll just hope he pays me in full before reading the new, right? Have to roll with the punches in this business,” Rhys’s awkward laugh trailed off as he tried to catch a glimpse past his own nose of the assassin that held his life in judgment. His phone vibrated against his thigh like he didn’t already know that the plan had crashed and burned horribly.

The blade at his throat lowed an inch and Rhys sucked in a greedy lungful of air, turning his head enough to finally glimpse the near featureless black helmet that covered Zer0’s face. A red [ . . . ] glowed faintly within the dark mask, changing into [ ? ] as Rhys watched.

"Such a gilded thief, shadows could never hide you, you are not common."

“Thank you? But I’m not a thief,” what was he supposed to say to something like that. The robotic pitch made it that much harder for him to tell if the tone was sarcastic or accusatory or simply observational. Rhys moved to cross his arms over his chest, brows furrowed, but the shimmer of light flashing off the dark blade as it was flicked back up, aborted the motion leaving Rhys’s arms hanging uncomfortable outstretched and decidedly uncool looking.

Uncertain if it would actually help his case, he filled the potent silence regardless, “I’m an assassin. Like you? I mean, obviously not as awesome as you are. And I don’t just do assassinations… but…” his left hand gave a nervous twitch as he resisted the urge to tug at his hair. He finished lamely, “…yeah… I steal stuff… sometimes,” or most of the time.

The blade swished through the air and clicked back into its sheath leaving Rhys’s legs feeling like they were made of jello. Sagging, Rhys hurried to put distance between himself and the dangerous assassin before him.

"Has anyone told, it’s a fool who runs his mouth. Prattling on and on, benefit to me alone. I claim the victory here."

He really didn't need Zer0 to tell him that. Rhys was painfully aware of his flaws. If he wasn't already, he had Fi and Sash to point them out regularly as reminders. He scowled in what wasn't a pout no matter what anyone said. He still felt off kilter. If anything, being free from the blade only made it worse, the adrenaline leaving his limbs shaking with nothing to do. Rhys carded his fingers through his hair, the gelled locks breaking apart under his fingers, but the simple repetitive motion did more to calm him than anything else could.

"I shall have your name, if trust is broken after, I shall hunt you down."

Damn this was still going sideways but he couldn't think fast enough to work out any other options. Scowl deepening, he complied, “Rhys Oliver, of Atlas.”

The [ ! ] that appeared on the assassin’s mask filled Rhys with a modicum of smug satisfaction. Five years ago Atlas was all but a footnote in history. Yet now Rhys, with the help of his friends, had raised it like the proverbial phoenix. Slowly but surely, the name Atlas was becoming relevant again. Though… maybe admitting to being from what could be seen as a rival organization wasn’t the *best* move Rhys could have made in this moment. If Fiona was here she would have smooth-talked her way out of revealing so much, she was always better at improving than Rhys was. Or she’d have gotten shot at already. That was nearly equally likely some days.

“I have heard of this, its corpse thought rotten away. Yet you claim it yours?”

“Atlas was never dead,” Rhys huffed defending his tiny operation, “We’re small right now but growing,” did he just volunteer too much? Ugh, he wished he had Yvette on a radio line but they hadn’t been able to get the headset past the security checkpoint. He felt naked without his support line. Her calm reassurance and direction in his ear.

Zer0 tipped his head, only serving to remind Rhys how much taller the lanky assassin was comparatively. Idly he wondered what was under that suit… Rhys bit his lip, his mind trailing back the myriad of speculation he’d read on that subject. Sucking in a sharp breath, he snapped his eyes back up, feeling his face heat. This was so not the place. Real spies never bought their way out of death by offering sexual favors. Or at least Rhys was fairly certain that was the case. He wasn’t going to risk his neck offering. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, a protective barrier to his own wild imagination. Which hurt more than it should… that could cause issues if they did fight. But at least his hand was nearer to his weapon now.

“Atlas is reborn, this I must see for myself. You’ll introduce me?”

“What? Oh, I mean, yeah, sure. Anytime,” Rhys stammered. This was so not good. He was acting like a blushing teenager. Maybe it was actually a good thing no one had eyes on him. Sasha would never let him live this down.

“An intriguing talk but time presses ever on, I shall leave you now.”

Zer0 turned toward the large window behind the desk, a sheer drop down 53 stories, and glanced back only briefly. [ <3 ] lit up on the helmet as Zer0 gave Rhys a cheery, “Goodbye.” The assassin’s suit seemed to shimmer, an active camo making the edges harder to distinguish in the dark. Taking a half step forward, Rhys could still track Zer0’s movement as the assassin pushed open the window and dove out. Gripping the edge and peering down was enough to seize Rhys’s stomach into knots. Too high. He squeezed his eyes shut and staggered back like the fucking armature that he apparently was. He was never going to be as cool as someone like Zer0. It was hopeless. Just a dork dressing up and pretending to be James Bond.

Running his left hand, Rhys sighed heavily. When that didn’t work, slapping his own cheek, Rhys berated himself, “Focus, you still have a job to do, dum dum.”

~*~*~

With a great deal of distaste, he nudged the cooling body aside. That was certainly unfortunate. Fi would have her work cut out for her, but with luck, the data might be even more valuable to the right buyer because of the inevitable shift in power dynamics. If they acted fast enough. They might even get more than originally offered.

Careful as he tried, Rhys couldn’t get to the computer terminal without stepping in the blood. The carpet squished wetly around the slick soles of his leather boots. He wasn’t dressed for bodily fluids today. It was going to stain. Or worse seep into his socks. He was not walking around with wet socks. It was bad enough his shirt was binding up and clinging to him with drying sweat making just standing unbearably uncomfortable. He took a deep breath through his mouth, trying to ignore the ripening scent, and plugged in his flash drive to activate rhys_winz.exe. While the hacking program did its thing, he browsed through the unsecured files for important keywords, copying anything that looked promising. He could sort through it all at leisure later when he wasn’t hovering over a smelly corpse. Preferably with a cup of coffee or some ice cream. No, definitely ice cream. Today deserved ice cream.

God, the smell really was unpleasant already. This is why he refused jobs that required handing bodies after the fact. Speaking of which, he took it all back. He hated this job. This wasn’t supposed to *be* a messy mission. Yet because no one in all the city had worse luck than he did, here he was, standing in blood and the download *still* wasn’t done. Rhys was sure even the corpse would agree that Rhys’s luck was worse. The dead guy didn’t have to deal with his own stink.

His endless list of complaints stalled as the popup informed him of the download’s success. Slotting the drive back into the watertight storage in his arm, Rhys was left with only one pressing problem… bloody footprints. His bloody footprints. He hated that there was really only one solution. Standing at the door, he held his bloody leather boots in hand. Real leather, mind you. He’d had to import them! Real leather was so rare nowadays. And even if they hadn’t been god awful expensive, he couldn’t just leave them at the crime scene either.

Rhys walked out of the office distinctly less cool than he’d entered. Face beet red, he prayed no one questioned the garbage bag clutched in his fist… or his brightly colored fish socks now on display. God, how many people were *in* this damn building? Every set of eyes crawled over his skin but he refused to meet their questioning gazes. It was probably all in his head anyway. Either that or security was going to be waiting with an armed escort when he got off at ground level. He jabbed the elevator button with prejudice, shoulders tense.

~*~*~

Fuck. His phone. He’d forgotten all about it after the Zer0 debacle. He pulled out the disposable burner, opening up the deluge of texts he’d gotten from an unsaved number.

>> greet & meet failed >> still no luck, be safe!! >> getting odd looks, have 2 bail >> where r u? >> Hey dork, u alive??? >> if u r making me worry for nothing I’m going 2 kick ur ass >> if ur dead im taking ur pc >> don’t be dead, I dont know ur password

Cradling his bagged boots to his chest, Rhys chewed his lower lip, chuckling under his breath. I’d been just over three years now since he’d first run into Fiona and Sasha but now he couldn’t picture his life without them in it. They could be brash and rude… but they really did care. In their own way. He liked to imagine it was what having a sibling was like. Yvette seemed to think so and Rhys took her word for it seeing as both he and Vaughn were only children. But Sasha, Rhys was especially fond of her. Fond was likely underselling the soft feeling that curled in his chest when he thought of her, but Sahsa had made it abundantly clear that she wasn't interested in anything serious. Which… which was fine. Good even. It meant that Rhys didn’t have to worry about any awkward explanations or reveals later down the road. Just friends was fine. They clicked and she was fun to work with even though she terrified him at times.

One handed, he typed out a quick reply. Left thumb moving with practiced ease.

<< not dead, call off the funeral << done & done but messy << so ready to bail

He watched the eclipses dance as the other side of the conversation typed. Sasha must have been waiting for his reply. With luck, she’d already fetched the car.

>> tnx 4 the heart attack dork!! >> outside

Never trusting their messages not to be intercepted, they always avoided anything incriminating or too descriptive. You could never be too safe, after all, but he had to laugh that their secret agent spy code was just vague text speak and knowing each other well enough to read between the lines. It really dispelled the glamorous spy mythos. Real life had far more bloody shoes and aching ribs than cocktails and fast cars.

~*~*~

As it turned out, clutching a trash bag and brooding in an elevator didn’t gain as many strange looks as he’d feared. A woman in a crisp suit gave a snorting laugh as she entered the elevator with him, though Rhys wasn’t sure if it was his face or his socks that drew her humor. And that had been the most notable reaction. Most simply turned a blind eye to him. The purposeful sort or ignoring that likely meant they were filing away future blackmail (what little good that would do them) but it served Rhys well enough. Apparently leaving a head office in an embarrassing state wasn’t all that surprising. All the more reason to be glad he’d missed out on such exciting corporate affairs.

It was a struggle to remember to walk as he exited the elevator, pulling away from the business men and women. Security was going to be a whole new issue. They *would* open the bag. Then they’d see the blood. Then there would be questions he couldn’t flirt his way past. With a heavy heart and cursing his completely shit luck, he turned toward the ground level food court. Selecting a very full trash can he stuffed his bagged boots deep into the mess of greasy burger wrappers and paper cups. Rhys said a brief farewell to his boots, parted from this world too soon. His closet would be all that much emptier without them. The world that much colder. He blinked back a tear.

~*~*~

“Nice socks,” the guard’s barely held back smirk was beyond punchable. They were the same two guards as when he’d entered the security checkpoint what felt like ages ago. The other leaning casually back on their shared desk.

Holding his arms up, Rhys breathed through his nose. He was almost out, “Thanks.”

The other one had the audacity to wink, “Maybe if you’re naughty next time we can have a cavity search.”

What even was that? Was that supposed to be a pickup line? His head frazzled from the careful plan falling apart, Rhys was too tired to piece out what the hell was going on. He scrambled for some semblance of a script and hoped the flirty executive role still worked sans boots, “Next time, cowboy.”

It seemed to work. At the very least they laughed and released him. He couldn’t be bothered to care more than that he was leaving. All that much closer to his own room and chocolate cookie dough ice cream. After he cleared the obstacle that was his concerned friends… he sagged, staring down at his toes as he exited onto the city street. His socks really were ruined at this point. There was going to be no salvaging them from the sidewalk dirt, not when he could feel the grit from the office building still clinging to them. The purple and red fish mocked him as he glowered.

“I gotta say, that’s quite the fashion statement you got going there, dork,” a punch to his fleshy arm signaled Sasha’s arrival.

Her words mocked, but he knew her well enough to understand that she really cared. It was unlike any of the friendships Rhys had previously, but it felt stronger for it. Besides, he often felt sarcasm was greatly underappreciated and Sasha always seemed to get when he was joking. Unlike Fi. She was just scary mean sometimes.

“Ha ha,” Rhys rolled his eye, “Come on, I’m starving.”

“Uh, huh. Don’t pout, it couldn’t have been *that* bad,” Sasha pointed out.

He was in one piece so she was right on the account. But he wasn’t going to admit that, “I’m not pouting.”

“So is that why you could land aircraft on your bottom lip then?” her laugh was utterly fake, though Rhys doubted anyone who didn’t know her would be able to tell. It’d taken him long enough to learn the difference.

She steered him easily through the crowd and into the twists of side streets to their getaway car. Casual as could be. Just two friends giving each other shit. Rhys followed without thought, it was so much easier to navigate when someone else led and he could follow her anywhere.

“I hate you,” he didn’t.

~*~*~

#rhys the company man #zer0 the assassin #tales from the borderlands #fanfiction #my writing #wip #sasha the kid sister #borderlands

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iv-kplpt · 7 years

Text

charlie’s series of one night stands: gotham city

ao3 rated m. my oc gets to bang telltale version of penguin. woo-hoo.

She was in a bar in Canada, somewhere around Winnipeg. The day was cold and cloudy and all she wanted was a beer and a break – so she headed to the nearest bar, a tiny, crowded place, filled with smoke, voices and cheap booze.

The bartender's name was Evelyn – „Evie for friends, but these days we all gotta stick together, so call me Evie, love” - as she told her, as soon as she sat down.

„So we're exchanging names?”, she asked, smiling lightly. „Fine. My name's Charlie.”

„That's a lovely name, darling. So, Charlie, what can I serve you?”

„Whiskey on rocks.”

„Your accent says you're not from around here.”, Evie said, pouring her drink. „Where do you come from?”

„How do I sound?”

„Well, you sound like you're from that godforsaken hellhole of a city called Gotham.”

„Fuck, seriously?”, Charlie sighed, tapping on the countertop with her long nails – today they were painted black. „You wound me. Do I really sound like I'm from there?”

„You do. I would know, I grew up there.”

„Huh.”

Charlie took a sip and smiled, shaking her head. She put the glass down and once again looked at Evelyn, brushing some loose auburn curls away from her face.

„Funny thing, I was there recently.”, she admitted, tapping her foot to the tune of the song playing in the background. „A month ago, I think.”

„Did you like it?”, Evie asked, with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. Charlie laughed quietly, already knowing the right answer – it was in Evie's eyes, in the way she moved, in the way she rolled her eyes a bit when she mentioned the city.

„It sure is one of a kind.”, she said. „I never saw so many criminals in one place, and I'm travelling all over the globe.”

„I heard it had gotten much worse lately. Ever heard of the Waynes?”

„Oh, please.”, Charlie snorted. „Half of the city belongs to them, not to mention that giant tower AND that golden plaque. Is it really pure gold?”

„So I heard.”, Evie nodded, looking at something – someone – behind Charlie. „Calm down, gents, or I'll kick you out!”, she said suddenly, in a tone much louder and harsher. Suddenly it became crystal clear why she's the bartender – something in her voice made the arguing men calm down instantly

Maybe she has a superpower, Charlie thought. Maybe that's why she left Gotham.

„Why did you come to Canada?”

„Well, for starters, it's not United States and I didn't have money for any other plane ticket.”, Evie said, shrugging nonchalantly, her silver hair glimmering in the dim lamplight. „Fresh start and all that crap.”

„Fresh start from what?”, she asked, sliding her finger around the rim of her glass.

„From an asshole named Tony. Those Gotham boys...”

Evelyn paused for a moment, shook her head and sighed.

„Those Gotham boys shouldn't be kept around for long. They are all the same – all flash and no substance, will make you scream at night, and then cry in the morning, when you realize your wallet is gone, along with your fucking heart.”

Evie sighed again and started to wipe the counter with a piece of cloth. Charlie nodded, finished her drink and set the glass down.

„Well, my Gotham one night stand didn't steal anything from me. He was incredible in bed and I wish he gave me his number, but I guess I was lucky.”

„Who knows, maybe in turn you stole his heart.”, Evie said, smiling lightly. „Maybe he'll come barging through the door, looking for you.”

„I wouldn't mind another night, yes.”, Charlie said, winking at her. „But that's unlikely. He was... Deeply rooted in that city. I don't think he's going to ever leave it.”

„He sounds half decent. Maybe he should leave that city.”

„Yeah? Why?”

„Ah, that's one hell of a story. I'll get back to you in a moment.”

She stepped away, to take care of some other thirsty patrons. Charlie looked at her absentmindedly, not having anything better to do.

Despite her age – Charlie decided Evie is probably around sixty – she was moving gracefully, there was spring in her step. She kept her head high and her back straight - „head up, boobs out”, like Charlie's old roomie used to call this posture. Her silver hair were long and thick and her sharp, narrow face was just straight up gorgeous. Evelyn was a beautiful woman – and Charlie knew she's going to hear one hell of a story, judging by the spark in her amber eyes.

„So.”, she said when Evie came back to her. „What's going on in the city of heartbreakers and assholes?”

Evie laughed, poured her another drink – and another one for herself – and pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening some news app. She handed the phone to Charlie and winked at her.

„Just because I left doesn't mean I don't read Gotham Gazette from time to time. Go on, read... Read the ten latest articles.”

Hiding her slight disappointment – she was hoping for a juicy tale – Charlie picked up the phone and started scrolling through the app, filtering out the stuff she already knew about Gotham. Batman... Filtered out. Massive spike in crime... Filtered out. Upcoming elections... Triple filtered out, she didn't care about the local politics. A man called Penguin... Not filtered out.

„Holy fuck!”, she said, smiling widely and enthusiastically tapping the photo of a masked man in a suit. „I know this guy!”

„Well, you should call the Gotham police then. He's a wanted criminal.” „No, you don't understand. I know him... In the biblical sense. We fucked. He's my one night stand! The one who didn't steal my wallet!”

„Wait, darling, are you sure?”, Evie asked, leaning towards her, visibly intrigued. „ That's him? You definitely should call the cops. Who knows, maybe they'll pay you.”

„Yeah, and tell them what exactly?”, Charlie snorted, still staring at a photo, remembering how the man looked without his dead-bird-shaped mask. „Hello, yes, I have a valuable info on the Penguin. I know what his dick looks like. It's PIERCED. I repeat: the Penguin pierced his DICK!”

Evie snorted, covering her mouth and waving the free hand. There were tears in her eyes, Charlie noticed with satisfaction; good. They were on the right track to becoming really good friends.

„Oh, I want to know all the details.”, she said finally, after calming down a bit. „Hang around for a while, would ya? I'm closing in a few hours and then I'm all ears.”

„No problem, I love to talk about my conquests.”, she said with a smirk. „In the meantime though can I get some fries? I'm starving.”

„Honey, you're the girl who fucked the Penguin of Gotham City. This is going to be the best story I've heard in a long time. I can get you anything you want.”

Charlie grinned in response and stretched out, yawning loudly. She needed attention – and Evie was giving her just the right kind of attention.

She spent the next few hours catching up with events in Gotham, looking around and dismissing various drunk Don Juan wannabes. None of them was her type, except for one – the dark skinned, lean woman in a business suit; but she was drunk and Charlie wasn't that kind of person.

When the closing hour finally came, she helped Evie with kicking out last of the patrons, cleaning up the tables and locking the place up. Finally, they sat in her small living room – which was just above the bar – with cups of hot cocoa with marshmallows in hands. It wasn't the first time a total stranger was completely charmed by her, and she was sure it wasn't the last – but it sure as hell was the most pleasant one.

Plus it felt nice to be able to gossip about sex with someone like Evie – someone with their own fair share of adventures.

So she started talking, pausing from time to time to take a sip from her huge mug – and judging by Evelyn's face, she was indeed telling one hell of a story.

***

She arrived in Gotham shortly after leaving that small, weird town by the river, the one famous for its maple syrup production. Her leads that made her show up there turned out to be cold and useless – and the only good think to happen to her during her stay there was a long night with a certain biker. A handsome man, bit of an asshole, but with his heart in the right place – exactly her kind of man, in all his leather loving ruggedness.

So when she showed up in Gotham – the biggest city she visited in a long time – she was kind of pissed off. Tired. In need of both distraction and motivation. She was desperate for a lead – any lead, really – and she vaguely remembered that piece of shit Harry talking about having a cousin in Gotham.

She knew her name and what she did for a living, so she decided it's just a matter of miraculously coming across a good and cheap private eye, willing to help her out – nothing too complicated. Charlie decided it's time to give herself a short break – unwind, have some fun, maybe buy some new shoes, because her old boots were starting to fall apart.

She heard Gotham has much to offer in terms of night life – a lot of clubs and bars, drugs, liquor and sex costing about the same; though she wasn't sure whether „the same” meant „dirt cheap” or maybe „who even can afford that?!”.

So she wandered from club to club, looking around, sometimes admiring the – mostly crumbling, but still breathtakingly beautiful – architecture, wondering why Gotham feels so wrong during the day and so right during the night. Night was her time anyway; she loved its sense of mystery, anonymity and danger. Well, okay, Gotham was equally dangerous both during the day and during the night, but Charlie always had a flair for the dramatic.

One night though she somehow wandered into a place she wasn't supposed to be – again. That was her superpower – always finding that one place that's not going to welcome her with darts, cheap booze and comfortable stools. She heard about this place from a drunk man in another part of the town – it was well hidden, so most people didn't know about it. What he didn't tell her though – and what she didn't figure out until the last minute – was that it was hidden for a reason.

„Reason” being, obviously, being mafia occupied.

Well, fuck, Charlie thought, as the bouncer put his hand on her shoulder and started dragging her in a direction that most definitely was not the exit. Well, shit.

And then – he showed up.

„Hey, mate!”, she heard a man calling out after the bouncer; he had a thick, british accent. „Leave my friend 'ere alone, she's with me.”

The bouncer stopped, but he didn't take his hand off her shoulder. He turned around to face the man, forcing her to turn with him.

The British guy was tall, rugged and handsome, very handsome. Exactly her type of handsome. He reminded her of her previous adventure – but this one was a bit younger, and was wearing a trenchcoat instead of a leather jacket.

„I was looking for you!”, she said to him, hoping he'll play along. She gave him her most charming, genuine smile, noticing his eyeing her up and down, pausing for a moment – of course – at hear cleveage.

„Paul, be a darling, let her go.”, the stranger said finally, returning his attention to the bouncer, who – hesitantly – let her go.

The stranger continued.

„It's been a while since my last tête-à-tête with Charlie” - she blinked quickly, hearing her name spoken by this man she never met - „so please, kindly do fuck off.”

The stranger put his arm around her waist and started leading her between the tables, ignoring all the stares and whispers.

„Do we know each other?”, she muttered to him under her breat; in response he tightened his grip a bit.

„Not now, darlin'.”, he muttered. „I have a private room reserved on the back.”

He smelled of cologne – of course he did, they always smelled of cologne – whiskey and smoke.

When the door to his private room closed behind them he let go of her; she fixed her hair and straightened her dress, as he – mockingly gallantly – bowed, taking her hand.

„Oswald Cobblepot.”, he said, lightly brushing her hand with his lips and looking into her eyes.

„Well, my name's Charlie.”, she said cautiously, watching as he takes off his coat and throws it on the floor. „So, I have a few questions for you, Oswald.”

„And I'll gladly answer 'em, considering you now have to spend some time with me.”, he said with a devious grin, falling onto the nearest chair. „There's no escape.”

„Ha-ha, very funny.”, she sighed, rolling her eyes, and sat down on the opposite side of the room.

Just as she was opening her mouth, there was a knock at a door. Oswald sighed with annoyance.

„What?!”, he snarled, as the door opened and a waiter entered the room.

„Is everything alright?”, he asked calmly, glancing briefly at Charlie and focusing on Oswald. „Do you need anything?”

„I could go for a martini.”, Charlie said, crossing her legs and grinning at Oswald. „Your treat... Friend?”

„Everything for you, darling.”, he said carelessly, looking at the waiter. „You heard the lady! A martini for her and a bourbon for me. Take your time.”

When the door closed, he returned his attention to her.

„Do we know each other?”, she repeated her earlier question, playing with the hem of her dress. „I don't remember you.”

„Oh, I have friends all around the world, Charlie.”, he said calmly, winking at her. „I know a lot about you.”

Seeing her surprised expression he laughed and shook his head.

„Nah, I'm just fucking with you. That was a lucky guess. Never seen you before, but hey – I'm a gentleman. I just wanted to help.”

„I'm not a damsel in distress.”, she retorted, way sharper than she intended to. „I had this under control.”

„Sure you did, darlin'.”

He shot her a quick grin and she instantly knew where exactly this situation is going.

They received their drinks and were left alone again. She moved to another chair, one standing a bit closer to where he was located.

„So, Charlie.”, he said after trying his drink. „You're not from 'round 'ere, are you?”

„If I was from around here I wouldn't be in this bar, genius.”

„That was a rhetorical question. I know you're not from around 'ere, so the question is... Where are you from?”

„Why do you care?”, she asked in return, taking the olive from her glass between her fingers and squeezing it gently.

„Well, I want to get to know you, Charlie. I thought that's obvious, me taking you to my private room and all.”

She laughed and batter her long lashes at him, finally looking at him properly, one final moment of hesitation before making a decision.

„Okay, Oswald... Fuck, is there a shorter version? That's a mouthful.”

„Oh I'm a mouthful alright.”, he said nonchalantly and she groaned. „But sure. You can call me Oz.”

„Alright, Oz. Ozzie.”, she said, still playing with her olive. „Let's get to know each other.”

Before long, they were in a cab, on their way to get to know each other. She couldn't decide what was the deciding factor – his grin? His face in general? His hands? Or maybe his scars? She didn't know and she didn't care. Another one to her list of enjoyable evenings. Another lost piece of underwear. Oswald Cobblepot wasn't a patient man – and she liked that impatience. She was sure their driver appreciates it a lot less, with all the feeling up going on in the backseat of his cab, but they tipped well. Back in the room, between a kiss on the neck and a hand sliding up her thigh, they decided on his place – he was taking care of his friend's luxorious flat, plus there was something he wanted her to see. She agreed. With his hand under her dress she'd agree to everything.

He wasn't lying about the flat – it was luxurious; but she only cared about the amount of flat surfaces – she was getting really impatient and really, really into it – and the mysterious thing he wanted her to see so badly.

It was... Disappointing. Not at all what she expected; she was hoping for something useful in their situation, maybe for some custom made luxurious toys, not a gas mask. It was shaped like a bird skull, sure – he informed her it's shaped like a penguin skull – but it was not at all relevant to why she came here with him.

„Oz, I don't care.”, she said, interrupting him. „Don't ruin the mood.

She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him closer. The mask fell to the floor and rolled under the bed; he put his hands on the mattress and leaned in, pushing against her chest; she started to ruffle his hair lazily, feeling some old scars on the back of his neck under her fingers.

Rest of the evening – and the night, and the morning after – was both a blur and one of her sharpest, most distinct memories. Everything was both fuzzy like the hazy view outside and sharp like her nails on his back. It was impossible to focus on just one sensation; he'd make her feel like she's dissolving with his teasingly gentle touch, only to bring her back with a sudden pinch or with a light bite.

He had long, slender fingers, marked with scars here and there. In the back of her head – when she was still able to form coherent thoughts – she concluded he probably used to be a pianist; and his firm grip on her wrists kept her from further scarring his back. He was covered in scars, old and new – and she very much enjoyed the vision of him covered in smudged blood.

He eventually did draw her blood – he bit her collarbone just a bit too hard and she winced, torn between the stinging pain and the feeling of his fingers inside her. He smiled and winked at her, his lips covered in her blood.

„You alright?”, he asked, and lazily brushed her neck with his bloodied lips. She felt the warm stickiness and sighed deeply, closing her eyes.

„I'm trying to come, you know. You're not helping.”, she eventually said, her eyes still closed and her wrists still in his iron grip. She bucked her hips and groaned.

„Oh, I can help with that.”

„Well, what are you waiting for?”

He was lightly tapping his fingers on her abdomen, distracting her from her own train of thought. She opened one eye; he was looking at her with a grin on his face, visibly waiting for something.

„Oh.”, she finally realized. „You fuck.”

„You're not helping.”, he muttered, planting a lazy kiss on her neck and brushing her sensitive skin with his infuriating stubble. „Come on, Charlie, say it.”

The light tapping turned into gentle massage and she let out a moan.

„Okay, okay...”, she breathed out, trying to concentrate. The touch ceased. „Please.”

„See? That wasn't so hard.”, he whispered and let go of her wrists. With a grin and a series of quick, light bites and kisses he lowered himself and put his hands on her thighs, gently pushing them apart.

The world quickly turned into a blur when his lips – and his wicked tongue – found her center.

She could feel his hair under her fingers – and when he made her scream for the first time, she in return made him wince in pain by pulling his hair. He grabbed her wrists again, pressing her onto the mattress.

„Oh, did that hurt?”, she gasped out, staring into his eyes. „Poor thing.”

„Shut up.”, he responded; he let go of her wrists – she was started to think he has a thing for holding his partners like this – and pulled away.

He was looking for something in the drawer of a nearby nightstand; rumaging furiously through its contents. She giggled.

„What, you lost something?”

„Take a wild guess.”, he said, with one hand on a zipper of his pants.

She stretched out lazily, enjoying the way he looks at her breasts, now covered in bitemarks and love bites.

„Get back here.”, she said eventually, looking at him with her eyes half closed. „I have an implant for that. Way ahead of you, Scruffy.”

He smirked, got out of his pants and came back to her, to her embrace, to her skin, and rest of their time together was a blur only filled with not so tender touches, bloody kisses and moans and sighs muffled by the other one's skin. Oz was a man of many talents, and he put almost all of them to use during that long night.

When she woke up he was still asleep. He looked almost peaceful – his scars and her blood smeared on his face ruined the illusion. He was still very handsome though, and she almost regretted she can't stay longer. She left him a note – a really genuine one. One last time she ran her hand through his hair and just like that she was out of that flat, and out of his life.

*** Mentally back in Canada Charlie finished her cocoa and put her mug down. Evie let out a satisfied sigh.

„So you really fucked the Penguin.”, she said, shaking her head. „Holy shit.”

„I know, right? I'd stay longer if I knew what's going to become of him. Maybe I'd blow him.”

„Is that what you're into? Criminals?”, Evie asked, raising her eyebrow. Charlie laughed in response.

„Not really, but it would be one hell of a story. And a cool new nickname. The Birdblower.”

„That sounds absolutely terrible.” „Yeah, it does. Still better than „that heinous bitch” though.”

Evelyn stretched out and put her legs on the couch, still staring at Charlie.

„I wonder if he remembers you.”, she admitted suddenly. „Don't get me wrong, darling, he's definitely not a romantic hero, but here we are, chatting about his pierced junk. Do you think he tells his friends about you?”

„I don't really care.”, Charlie admitted; she wasn't telling the truth, but she wasn't lying either. „Maybe I'll find out some day. We'll see.”

She got up, picked up her backpack and put on her jacket. It was time for her to leave; not this particular town, no – she had some unfinished business here – but it was time for her to go to the motel and get some sleep.

„Thanks for the nice evening, Evie. I might drop by later this week to say bye.”

„Well, I hope so. Take care, kid.”

She left Evie on the couch in her living room, absorbed by memories of all the men she treated same way Tony treated her once, all those years ago.

When she was outside, in the cold, she pulled out her phone and went to Gotham Gazette webpage. In the meantime they published a new story on the Penguin; for a moment she considered reading it, but eventually she closed the page without opening the article. The past should stay in the past – there's no point of living in it; though she really wondered if he kept her note for some reason.

She hoped not.

#ff #eng #telltale batman #oswald cobblepot #pinnguin

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

Link

Every week, critic at large Todd VanDerWerff and internet culture reporter Aja Romano get together to discuss the latest episode of HBO’s sci-fi drama Westworld. This week, they’re discussing the second season’s eighth episode, “Kiksuya.” Spoilers follow! Proceed with caution if you haven’t seen the episode!

Todd VanDerWerff: “Kiksuya” could have — and probably should have — gone so, so wrong.

For as much as I admire Westworld’s attempts to depict a kind of uber-struggle for respect, autonomy, and self-definition that represents every oppressed person in the history of humanity, by using the hosts to stand in for all of them (and often explicitly coding them as such), there have been plenty of times when the show has tossed these balls in the air and then had no idea what to do with them, just barely catching them on the way down instead of starting to nimbly juggle.

When you mix that with the idea of an episode about the Native American “Ghost Nation” hosts, performed almost entirely in Lakota, there are so many places where the whole enterprise could absolutely shatter into tiny pieces . That’s before I even start in on some of the episode’s creative decisions, like the fact that it’s basically an episode-long flashback ostensibly delivered as an expository monologue to a young child (who is actually an ancient host, but you know what I mean).

Yet when you consider that Westworld’s primary storytelling mode is, “Here is what’s happening and why,” it’s not surprising that an episode that is mostly exposition works as well as this one does. I wouldn’t call “Kiksuya” perfect, but it does fill in some gaps in the Westworld timeline, occasionally too conveniently — see also that encounter with Logan out in the wilds of Westworld. It also offers a couple of terrific scenes, including a nighttime meeting between Akecheta (Zahn McClarnon) and Ford (Anthony Hopkins) that takes place amid a gruesome tableau of Ghost Nation hosts frozen in place and has more of the horror and eeriness of the “creation meeting the creator” feeling the show strives for than almost any other scene of its ilk. I even liked the sense that Ghost Nation had adapted the circumstances of what happen to hosts after they die into its mythology.

All told, it’s a little languid and could have lost 10 minutes without too much trouble. (There are a lot of gigantic landscape shots, which eventually grew repetitive.) But “Kiksuya” has the visceral emotion that the series often lacks, and McClarnon is a terrific leading man. This is probably my favorite episode of the season so far, which I would not have expected going in. What did you think?

Lots and lots of wide shots… HBO

Aja Romano: I definitely agree. McClarnon is a superb actor and this episode could have fallen flat in multiple moments, but I felt like it was all held together by his dawning realizations and the tremor of understanding in his eyes.

The moment in the scene where he meets Ford, when Ford orders him to analyze and he realizes that he can’t fight his own programming, is as close to pure horror as Westworld has ever gotten for me, and the writers (Carly Wray and Dan Dietz) get there mainly by reliance on character and emotion. That’s a strong choice, and shows just how much they had to work with in McClarnon, because the narrative of this episode otherwise gives us more of Westworld’s tendency to really drag out explanations and plot reveals. But ultimately, even when I noticed the lagging pace and the redundancy of the exposition, I just didn’t care because I was enjoying the characterization and the emotional impact of the story so much.

I think where this story loses a little bit of momentum is in how it ultimately connects with its two contemporary tentpoles — Emily’s love/hate relationship with her father, and whatever the hell is going on with Maeve. Akecheta’s encounter with Emily felt anticlimactic and cryptic, and it didn’t tell me anything new about either character. (She’s definitely a hybrid, though!)

I feel like the reveal that he was attempting all along to protect Maeve’s daughter, not steal her, is too easy, sidestepping some of the the complicated implications of how season one habitually framed his actions as threatening. And it implies that Maeve may have somehow had racial biases programmed into her reactions to him, which is a huge thing to hint at but gloss over.

Of course, his framing of the narrative could well be false, especially given what we see of Maeve at the end of the episode. I’m not entirely sure what to make of their exchange, mainly because I’m not sure what he gained from it. She gained a new ally, and he gained the chance to explain himself. But it didn’t seem to move the plot forward at all. What did I miss?

Take my heart with you when you go. HBO

Todd: I guess the implication here is that Maeve and Akecheta now form an axis of power devoted to escaping the park before “the deathbringer” (Dolores) destroys everybody. As story development goes, this isn’t bad, but it relies too heavily on us thinking Maeve might really perish, a victim of Delos’s disinterest in preserving anything but her rogue code, and I just don’t think for a second Westworld is going to unceremoniously kill off its second lead.

One of the things that frustrates me about “Kiksuya” is the way in which much of it seems to exist solely to prove to skeptics that much of the story was planned out from the beginning. That made for some gorgeous imagery — Maeve confronting the maze in the dust chief among those images — but the way that Westworld can feel a little schematic, like assembling a piece of furniture where it’s not quite clear how everything fits together until the end, is heavily tied to this sort of planning. I haven’t quite been able to escape the idea that the show thinks its core audience is everybody who reads the Westworld subreddit. And, honestly, maybe it is.

Still, I have to agree that the episode came as close to being a horror tale as Westworld ever has, rivaling even some of the darker moments for Dolores in season one. Akecheta’s journey to the underworld in search of his disappeared love was weird and gorgeous and mythic, one of the few times this season that the mash-up of very old stories and very new technology has hit its true potential to reveal the messy underside of both aspects of the show. When he came across her frozen, empty body, standing amid so many other decommissioned hosts, boy, McClarnon makes every single second of that revelation play. It’s horror and myth and tragedy all at once, hitting the sorts of heights I wish the show was able to attain more often.

There’s been a lot of speculation that Ghost Nation would tie a lot of this season’s mysteries together once its backstory was revealed, and I guess “Kiksuya” sort of does this. Now that we know the maze is something Akecheta and those he “woke up” are deliberately spreading and that he’s come to think of his “tribe” as encompassing all awakened hosts around the park, certain aspects of the series make more sense. And I love that he’s the one who first came up with the idea of a “door,” when he saw a massive construction project and realized he lived in the wrong world. I just wish the maze felt to me like something more than a cool image, that it felt like an actual symbol for something deeper than a riddle.

But that’s all quibbles. The idea that the world is wrong has always been a potent one on this show, and season two has drifted from it just a tiny bit. I’m glad it had such centrality here, and even if I’m not sure why Maeve and Akecheta are teaming up, I’m glad they are. Somebody has to stop the Deathbringer. We’ve only got two episodes left, Aja, so where do you think all of this is headed? And is there any way to redeem my onetime favorite Dolores?

Aja: I think if we keep thinking about the mythology of Westworld, we end up where we started, enmeshed in cyclical pathways, probably with a giant inferno in the bargain, given how much fiery foreshadowing we’ve been treated to this season. Given where we seem to be headed — a giant cast reunion in the Valley Beyond — my speculation is that the question of Dolores’ redemption might be answered through the maze itself.

At this point, the only thing that could really redirect her course is to be faced with a direct threat that requires her to join forces, with the other hosts or the humans or both. And we know that at the center of every proper Grecian labyrinth is a proper Grecian minotaur. It seems to me that the best method to bar the way out of Westworld, introduce an escalated conflict for season three, and give Dolores a chance to redeem herself, is to unveil the bull at the center of the maze in the final act — whether it’s Ford 2.0 or something new.

Of course, this could also be a feeble attempt on my part to play Westworld’s game of catering to its subreddit. I hope not, because the lovely thing about an episode like this one is that its emphasis on character development reminds us that the emotional and socially conscious core of Westworld is much more rewarding than the endless gamification of its story about gamification.

Season two has been steadily leading us toward an intersectional awareness of systems of oppression, in which we see characters like Akecheta — and Lee, whose abrupt tearful apology to Maeve I didn’t wholly buy, but which seemed in keeping with the episode’s theme — becoming aware that their problems aren’t solely their own.

That intersectionality is almost certainly going to end up manifesting physically in the final episode. Whether Dolores gets on board or not, it seems fitting if, ultimately, we learn that the only way out for the characters we’ve met along the way is to wage an even bigger power struggle against a monster yet unseen.

Original Source -> “Kiksuya” is Westworld season 2’s best episode so far

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BEFORE THE NERDS

The more labels you have for yourself, the dumber they make you. It's dangerous to design your life around getting into college, because the way software actually gets used, especially by their authors. If the aggressive ways of west coast investors are confident enough of their judgement to act boldly; east coast investors, the balance of power is slowly shifting towards the young. Most hacker-founders would like to solve the money problem in one shot instead of getting paid gradually over a conventional working life. People frightened by Lisp make up other reasons for not investing, look at your startup and ask if they're right.1 I went straight to grad school. How can you tell if you're up to this challenge? And as technology becomes increasingly important in the economy, nerd culture is rising with it.2 They lived in houses full of servants, wore elaborately uncomfortable clothes, and travelled about in carriages drawn by teams of horses which themselves required their own houses and servants. Of course not all startups can make it to ramen profitability before Demo Day, I told the audience that this happened every year, so if they saw a startup they have neglected the one thing that's actually essential: making something people want, and b if you seem desperate.

If we were talking about the designer. Sometimes the changes are advances, and what I've read about hunter-gatherers accords with research on organizations and my own experience how much faster investors could decide, because we've brought our own time. But raising money from multiple investors, as most VCs say, they're more experienced than you.3 Technology Will technology increase the gap in income, there are ways to decrease its effects.4 But if you find yourself in a position where a little more power than other members of the tribe, but they need you to come in for one meeting to meet some of the partners, tell them no, if you're going to be hearing in the press about what Jessica has achieved. What's different about religion is that people don't feel they need to have any particular expertise to have opinions about it. Especially if till recently no one wanted you. We do this with YC itself. Not at all. Some want to believe this comes from the controversial topic of wealth, no one would be able to push back in the matter of control, because they get their pick of all the startups. But though it can sometimes be annoying to be surrounded by people who only think about one thing, it's the company's growth rate. I don't know, Maybe you're right, and of all the departments in a university.

How dangerous they are.5 There is more to setting up a company than incorporating it, of course people want the wrong things. If so, this is exactly what you'd get on noticing that some people work honestly at, so they're worth doing, especially if you can afford the risk.6 Does that make written language worse? A design choice that gives you elegant finished programs may not give you an elegant design process.7 And after high school it was probably understood that you were supposed to go to college. Flying a glider is a good metaphor here is angle of attack, build up speed, and we're willing to do something, you either have to spend a lot of people in their early twenties. These guys are not the root cause of variation in income would be bad. If some new technique makes solar cells x% more efficient, that seems strictly better. You can use that target growth rate to make all your decisions for you; anything that gets you the growth you need is strong convictions.

The dangerous thing is, art isn't apples.8 The general argument is that new forms of communication always do.9 I suspect the human brain is just as true today, though few of us create wealth directly for ourselves except for a few vestigial domestic tasks. At the beginning of a relationship.10 This may sound like bullshit. He thought for a second, and said ok.11 Depends on what you mean by worth. You don't have to do is smack hackers on the side of the ledger; if you make a valiant effort and failing, maybe they'll invest in your next equity round. Except when they raise money they don't have a lot more in common than this, of course.12 Society.13 It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.14 And while they probably have bigger ambitions now, this alone brings them a billion dollars a year.

The reason is other VCs.15 On, noise.16 That's not the worst thing we make in America. But Apple created wealth, in the worst case it won't be for too long. One reason is that they deal with questions that have no definite answers, like how much a new government policy will cost.17 But since for most of the things that surprises founders most about fundraising is how distracting it is. Sometimes because they are the page views that Web sessions start with. There's no precise answer to that is obvious: from a job.

The meaning of interest can vary. You can recognize this contemptible subspecies of investor because they often talk about leads. Originally a startup meant a small company doesn't ensure freedom. You don't have to wait till I'm 23? It was the perfect quality to instill in startups.18 Or consider watches.19 Having skill is valuable. And they either don't work for the big companies in the first place; if we could handle the detail, we could just program in machine language.20 There is such a thing as good taste is that it will seem ostentatious. This too is a trend that will last.21 The venture capital business is pretty incestuous, and there was still that Apple coolness in the air, that feeling that the show was being run by someone who really cared, instead of learn a lot about things that matter, I wrote become good at some things than Jessica, and she's better at some things than me.22

If you don't put users first, and if you get an infusion of real money from investors at all, if you're determined to spend a lot of valuable lessons about the software business.23 But the next step, which is like reverting to high school, I now realize, exactly the right thing. I can think of several heuristics for generating ideas for startups: what do people who are really committed to what they're working on. But she did not contradict them. The picture is slightly more complicated than that, because in the middle of getting bought, we discovered that one of our people had, early on, been bound by an agreement that said all his ideas belonged to the giant company that was in a terminal decline. We couldn't believe large numbers of people would want to stay in his position? How do you judge how well you're doing with an investor who will only invest once other investors have is worthless initially.24 One of the most important thing that the constraints on a normal business protect it from is not competition, however, but the Internet got me because it became addictive while I was using it. They might even be better off financially. Sometimes when you're raising money from investors when you're not working, your competitors will be.

Notes

If an investor in!

That way most reach the stage where they're sufficiently convincing well before Demo Day. Some want to turn Buffalo into a form that asks for your pitch to evolve. You can safely write off all the returns may be to write every component yourself, if the selection process looked for different things from different types of people.

But iTunes shows that people will pay for stuff online, if you threatened a company they'd pay a premium for you? For a long time. So during the war had been campaigning for the next round, no one who's had the discipline to pull it off.

Quoted in: Life seemed so much a great reputation and they're clearly working fast to get endless grief for classifying religion as a constituency.

The bias toward wisdom in ancient philosophy may be some part you can use to develop server-based alternative to Office may not understand you at all. That is where the recipe is to say hello on her way out.

The expensive part of your identity manifests itself not directly exposed to competitive pressure. Source: Nielsen Media Research.

Good news: users don't care about valuations in angel rounds can make offers that super-angels.

It's not the second type to. Design Patterns were invisible or simpler in Lisp. In judging both intelligence and wisdom the judgement to know how many computers the worm might have 20 affinities by this, I can't tell if it were.

Exercise for the board to give them sufficient activation energy required to switch.

As always, tax receipts as a whole department at a critical period. I don't know how the courses they took might look to an investor is just about the new top story. The reason for the explanation of a safe will be very hard to do that. If you invest in so many trade publications nominally have a lot of companies used consulting to generate series A termsheet with a face-saving compromise.

Consulting is where all the East Coast VCs. Do College English 28 1966-67, pp.

If someone just sold a nice thing to do as a cause them to make it a function of revenues, and that he could just use that instead of uebfgbsb. If you have to make software incompatible. Put rice in rice cooker and forget about it.

Cit. Within Viaweb we once had a tiny.

On the other meanings.

No one understands female founders better than their lifetime value, don't destroy the startup is rare. In fact, change what it can buy. The attitude of the economy. Patrick Collison wrote At some point, when I was living in a spiral.

If they were forced to stop raising money in order to make a fortune in the woods.

If you want as an example of computer security, and wouldn't expect the opposite. There's no reason to believe your whole future depends on the cover story of creation in the world of the company will be near-spams that you can't easily get a sudden rush of interest, you have to disclose the threat to potential speakers. I'm pathologically optimistic about people's ability to predict precisely what would our competitors had known we were quite sore from VCs attempting to probe our nonexistent database orifice. Some founders deliberately schedule a handful of lame investors first, and don't want to start over from scratch is not to feel guilty about it.

If not, bleeding out invites at a particular number.

So how do they learn that nobody wants what they meant.

What should you even before they've committed. No one in a safe will be lots of customers times how much of the biggest winners, which is the proper test of investor quality.

Don't be fooled by grammar. Robert V. It's possible to bring to the table.

Few can have benevolent motives for being driven by the time of day, because even if they seem pointless. In fact, we could just expand into new markets. But the result is higher prices. But his world record only lasted 46 days.

But you can remove them from leaving to start a startup at a 5 million cap. It's a strange feeling of being absorbed by the investors. But the change is a scarce resource. Though it looks like stuff they've seen in the general sense of things economists usually think about so-called lifestyle business, which a seemed more serious and b when she's nervous, she expresses it by smiling more.

Siegel, Jeremy J. They bear no blame for any particular truths you'll learn. When you fund a startup in a place to exchange views. If big companies funded 3/4 of their pitch.

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