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mara-xx217 · 1 year

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(One of) Their First Gifts [Dbd The Twins Commission/OC]

This is a commission for @hexheathen! I hope you enjoy this fic cause I enjoyed writing it~

No Warnings Apply

They told her that it was pointless, but Hex couldn't help herself! Once she sets her mind to something, it's only a matter of time before she gets her desired outcome, no matter how long it takes! (or how many times her face is mauled-)

Hex’s breath came out in short, visible puffs as she struggled to find her bearings in this not quite right rendition of an average suburb, Somewhere U.S.A. She was supposed to find… generators, she thinks? But she couldn’t even find another person as of yet. There were supposed to be three others, right? And someone that’s supposed to hurt you all? It put Hex on edge more than a little… In fact, she was nearly vibrating out of her skin. She’s quite literally a rainbow target… The others that you briefly met were- more or less- dressed in dark colours they could use as a sort of impromptu camouflage while she was here in her neon pink and blue hair and her yellow, midriff jacket and lime green striped socks…

A stray piece of drywall skid across the floor as her foot made contact with it. It was so loud that it echoed in the mostly empty school building. Hex cringed and hissed between her teeth. That, too, bounced off the peeling walls and made her screw her eyes shut. Is she always this loud? She never really thought about it until now. Hex can be clumsy at times but now that it’s quite literally a life and death scenario, it’s really evident and something that’s got her feeling more self conscious and aware than she’s ever been in her entire life.

O-kay… Let's try downstairs…

If someone- or something- is here, it should have heard her by now, right? Even as Hex carefully made sure to not drag her feet across the floor, every step she took was accompanied with a near deafening crunch and the sliding of bits of dirt and debris against the sole of her boots. Something made her stop mid cringe- something large and shiny and sort of box-like in shape-

A generator!

The apprehension and fear that Hex felt suddenly shifted into giddy excitement. As dizzying as the change was, it didn’t stop her from sprinting- and sliding rather loudly- over to the hunk of silent metal. She looked it over, standing on her tiptoes and hunkering down low to look at some of the various knobs and wires that were sticking out of the machine.

Uhh… What exactly is she supposed to do with this?

All that was said to her was ‘fix the generators’. No one ever really told her how to do this. Hex reached out, then pulled away, then reached out one again. Um… Why are there so many things here…? She twisted a knob and jumped as the generator began to hum and chug very softly.

Oh-! Is she doing it?!

She twisted another knob and everything was okay. Then she knelt down and began to examine the wires. Yeah, she’s clueless… But Hex still decided ‘screw it’! She pressed some of the bare wire tips together, bracing to be electrocuted or blown up or something… but nothing happened! The generator sounds like it’s picking up speed so she’s obviously doing something right! Feeling confident, Hex reached up to twist another knob but stopped as something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

It was something small. Maybe… she only thinks she saw something. Right around the corner from where she crouched in front of the machinery. It was only for a second… but Hex was sure that she saw someone. But someone very, very small… A child? There wouldn’t be a child here, right?! The thought alone was enough to get her to let go of the generator. Which promptly exploded in her face with a loud POP!

Hex recoiled and shielded her face from the bright sparks. Oh shh… ! She really, really hopes no one heard that! Talk about embarrassing! Still… that little dude that she saw was what she was truly worried about. This is a big, scary place with too many hazards for a little kid! She got up and started to fast walk to where she thought she saw the child peek out from. Rounding the corner, Hex saw…

Nothing.

I need to at least check the school…

There’s no way in hell she could think of anything else other than that little guy that she saw… Hex cleared the basement twice, finding no trace of anyone else other than herself down there. Maybe upstairs? She checked the section that she entered from and found nothing. The room across? Nothing… The little reception area? Nothing… There’s only a few rooms left, so Hex doesn’t have a lot of options left. Will she look everywhere for this kid…? Probably. She can’t help it! The poor thing must be cold and hungry and scared… Like how she is now! Probably a lot more than she is, actually! So she looks in the final three rooms.

Nothing.

Nothing…

Ah-

Yes! There is someone in there! In a corner, Hex sees a very small lump in the corner, seemingly shivering and hunkered over. It looked like a child- Yes! A very, very small and young child- practically a toddler!- that wore not a scrap of clothing on their person. Poor little baby! Hex didn’t hesitate to take her own jacket off as she rushed over to the trembling child.

“Aww-! Shh… Shh… It’s okay, little guy… Or girl- It’s going to be okay! I won’t let a thing happen to you…” She fell to her knees and prepared to drape her jacket over the child… and sort of paused as she saw how different they looked.

Poor thing… Were they abandoned? They were dirty- is that blood?- and clearly had some deformities. Sharp little teeth poked out of their cleft lips and talon like claws were curled up on their fingers as they held their arms to their chest. Rather than making Hex feel fear, she felt even more determined to help the child. She could tell by looking at them that they didn’t have it easy… As she gently cooed at them and prepared to cover them with her jacket-

They shivered and turned to look at her. Hex gave a gentle smile. As she was about to reassure them that she was there to help-

-they pounced on her face.

Hex didn’t realize what even happened at first. The ear-piercing screech the little guy released when they leapt at her face completely disoriented her, and that’s not including the weight of a whole toddler clinging to her face, completely blinding her and slightly suffocating her while their little claws dug into the back of her head and threatened to rip her hair out by the little handful. Hex fell backwards and released a cry of her own, completely muffled and drowned out by the kid’s own battle-like cry to war. She didn’t notice when another person entered the classroom she was currently flopping around and writhing in.

One moment, Hex’s face was being bitten and kicked by a kid who had a surprising amount of strength, the next, there was a brief tug and she was free. The kid wasn’t removed, but rather, someone had kicked them off of her face. Hex was taken aback, completely shocked and horrified, nearly forgetting how the very child that collided with a nearby wall had suctioned cupped themself to her face and had tried (and nearly succeeded in) to take several chunks out of her poor, abused cheeks. Someone grabbed her underarms and helped her back to her feet.

“Are you okay?! Victor is such a little shit…” The young woman muttered under her breath as she helped steady a shell-shocked Hex, who could only blink and stammer unintelligibly.

“T-The- T-The k-kid…?” The woman scoffed and shook her head. Her short hair was mostly covered with a beanie that held it in place.

“Nah… Victor ain’t a kid, if you catch my drift. He and that sister of his are the killers of this trial. You’re lucky I was able to find you before she did.” After a moment of pause, the woman quickly added-

“Actually, we should probably move. Just in case she checks in here-” She pulled Hex along, who still was totally dumbfounded.

“W-Where did they go? Th-The kid…?” The woman waved off her question.

“Hey- Look, I’ll answer any question you got after we leave here alive. How’s that sound?” Hex nodded, still processing what the hell just happened to her. The woman turned to face Hex with a smile.

“I’m Nea, by the way.”

Nea, along with several other survivors that made sure she didn’t woefully misinform poor baby Hex, explained to her the new world she had found herself in. And… it definitely wasn’t great. The possibility of actually dying was terrifying, along with the various ways in which she could die in any given trial. The small child that she found, ‘Victor’... He was twins with a woman named Charlotte, who definitely would kill both Hex and Nea if she caught up with them. Especially after what Nea did to her brother… But for some reason, Hex couldn’t exactly blame either of them…

What if they were- or still are- as scared and confused as she is? And even if they weren’t… Hex still feels really, really bad for what happened to Victor! Sure, he latched himself onto her face and tried to rip it off, but Hex wasn’t mad about it! Maybe she came on too strong… Maybe she confused him! She is brightly coloured, after all… Nea punting him into the wall left a bad taste in Hex’s mouth… Wasn’t it a bit… excessive? It must have been terrifying and painful for Victor! And poor Charlotte, too! Oh… Hex can’t allow this to stand! She’s gotta make this right! …somehow. It’s not going to be easy, but she’s already made up her mind! It’s only a matter of time now until she figures out how to show the Twins that she means them no harm and that she doesn’t want to hurt either of them!

God, it was going to be a monumental undertaking, the likes of which Hex has never seen or experienced before in her entire life! She knew that she had her work cut out for herself, but the amount of times that she was mained, mauled, cut, stabbed in the shoulder and sacrificed to the Entity was unprecedented. Even other survivors were at a loss to the sheer number of times that Hex died and suffered injury in trial, even as a newbie survivor. Still… no one could deny that Hex was as stubborn as a mule and twice as durable…

Upon the next trial, Hex was told that it was highly unlikely that the Twins would be the next killer. They seemed to be two that were rarely seen in trials at all, let alone twice in succession. Yet in this trial, it was the Twins once more! Hex was excited while everyone else groaned in dread. She has a chance to make things right! It didn’t take long for her to find little Victor, scampering around while quietly muttering and growling to himself with his cute little arms close to his chest. Is he cold? Hex began to speak in a soft voice as she crouched down to his level.

“Hey little guy… I think we had a little… misunderstanding the last time we met.” She cooed. Victor suddenly turned to face her, his beady little eyes shining in the light as he narrowed them at her. Hex couldn’t help but to sweat, but she kept herself outwardly calm as she reached out to the little guy.

“Maybe we could-” Before Hex could finish what she was saying, Victor crouched down low. The words died in her throat as she tilted her head to the side, confused as to what he was even doing. When he suddenly went soaring through the air with a screech, she then knew that things had, once again, taken a wrong turn.

Victor was pried off by another survivor, in spite of Hex screaming over both Victor’s ear splitting war cries and her own cries of pain that “DON’T- I GOT HIM, I GOT HIM-!” No, she did not have him. Victor left deep scratches along Hex’s jawline, one that would vanish upon the trial’s completion but she would still feel the phantom pains of them long after they were gone. The others were sure this would deter her from going out of her way to make friends- most of them had fallen into the ‘there’s gotta be some humanity left in them’ line of thinking at least once, so they couldn’t really blame Hex… But if anything, this only made her more determined to make peace with the Twins.

Hex, again, tried to reach out to Victor. Not only did he pounce on her, but Charlotte found her before another survivor did. Only… she didn’t attack Hex. She merely watched for a few brief moments (that felt like an eternity to Hex as she was being mauled) before she called Victor back over to her and left a disoriented and winded Hex on the ground where she lay. This was something different! Charlotte didn’t attack her like everyone said she would! It’s gotta mean something, right?!

The next time, Hex found Charlotte first. The other woman wasn’t aware of her presence, not yet, anyway, and she still had Victor on her person. Literally. Hex wondered if it was painful when he would hop out of that hole in her torso… It had to, right? It looked painful, or at the very least upsetting to her, as she always placed a hand over where he once was and would look down as though lamenting his absence. It made Hex… sad. She frowned as she watched Charlotte stand around, seemingly lost without her twin brother’s hand in her own. Hex wanted to step out and speak to Charlotte… She wanted her to know that it would be okay- that Victor was a ridiculously strong little dude that has no trouble taking care of himself… But before she could even take a breath to speak out-

Victor tackled her from behind and latched onto her head.

This wasn’t working! Hex was beyond frustrated, yet this only made her more stubborn and determined to get her point across! If actions weren’t getting across and words were failing her, then Hex has no choice but to use her final, backup, super secret and failsafe plan to show the Twins exactly what her intentions were: She would give them gifts!

Flowers were the most obvious first choice. There were everywhere and many of the survivor’s offerings were flowers! Before she could get close enough to Charlotte to give them to her, however, Victor once again came to his sister’s defense and pounced on Hex before she could get too close to her. Okay… fine. What about Victor, himself?

It seemed to annoy him… or maybe he didn’t get the purpose of Hex waving flowers in between the two of them. Like a matador swinging red cloth in a bull’s face, Victor charged at her and proceeded to take a chunk out of her browline while screaming bloody murder. Or was it Hex that was screaming? It was a bust, so she abandoned the ‘flowers for peace’ endeavor she was on.

Chalk? Maybe they would like to draw with it! Victor bit her fingers when she presented it to him and Charlotte seemed to be like a deer in the headlights- unmoving, unwavering, not even acknowledging that Hex was presenting her a gift in her hands. Or was she just too shy to take it? Hex could have sworn that Charlotte had looked at the little bag in her hand for a split second before looking away, only to do a double take once Hex didn’t immediately run upon seeing her. They were so close to having a connection! Hex just knows it! But Charlotte ended up walking away, calling over a crouched and ready-to-pounce Victor who seemed to be lining up his sight to tackle Hex once more. But he didn’t! They might have left without taking her gift, but this is progress if she’s ever seen it! Hex has begun to get through to Charlotte… now she only needs to get little Victor to understand that she was friend and not foe… or food…

Hex asked for help, knowing full well that the other survivors wouldn’t really do much to help her. They made their stance very clear when it comes to the killers: ‘they worry about themselves and we worry about each other’. Still, when asked, advice was given and it was something that surprised her greatly. Sometimes, the Entity will gift survivors with things they desire. Some said they just thought of the items and would later find them in their pockets or in other places around the survivor’s camp. Others said they actually prayed to God for it and they received it. Whatever the case… Hex is desperate enough to try anything once….

So she prayed. And to her surprise…

The Entity answered.

It wasn’t something grand, but Hex had a feeling that what She answered would be something of interest to Victor and even perhaps to Charlotte as well. A little wooden figure of a princess, not exactly pretty or well carved, but strong and sturdy without being heavy or cumbersome. The paint was well worn and chipped but it was of little consequence, Hex thought. Something about the figure was familiar… but Hex still had a feeling that it wasn’t familiar to her. If that made any sense… It was a strange feeling, but one that she shook off as she became excited for the upcoming trial where she could give this to Charlotte and Victor.

For the first time in a while, Hex happened upon the Twins when they were still conjoined. Charlotte was already on edge and Victor was practically frothing at the mouth as he anticipated attacking Hex with his little teeth and sharp claws. Before Charlotte could set Victor down, Hex cried out-

“W-Wait!”

Charlotte instinctually held Victor close and took a step back while her brother squealed and screeched as he flailed in her grasp. Hex felt bad for making Charlotte and Victor so uncomfortable… All this time, they didn’t know that she was trying to make friends instead of hurting them in any way. She would have liked to make a special, grand gesture out giving them this gift, but Hex didn’t think it wise. So she carefully presented her closed hand, the head and legs of the princess figure sticking out of her closed fists.

Instantly, Victor was interested in what she had. Charlotte, though, was clearly on edge and untrusting of Hex and her intentions. She whispered quietly to Victor, who seemed to disregard what his sister said in favour of reaching out one of his small hands in Hex’s direction as he squealed in delight. She raised her other hand in a ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ sort of way.

“H-Hey-! It’s okay… I-I just want to give you both this…” Hex opened her hand to reveal the wood carving, which not only made Victor more excited, but it seemed to get Charlotte’s attention as well.

Hex didn’t know it, but Charlotte never really had any toys… She had a precious few that her mother made by hand, but Victor would always get jealous and mean when she would play with them. She didn’t really mind though. Victor was just… Victor. He was needy and loud and toys helped pacify him with nothing else would work. That little toy soldier of his, the one that their mother stole for him, became his absolute favorite. It’s one of the only things that remains of their past life. Of their mother… Charlotte was always a bit envious that Victor had this one little thing. She didn’t have anything like that… but Victor would share when she would get particularly sad. The little soldier was nice… but Charlotte wanted something else. She always wanted a cute little dolly of her own, and while what Hex had wasn’t exactly that….

It still was what Charlotte always wanted.

Charlotte shifted from foot to foot as she focused on the wooden princess. Victor incessantly tugged on his sister’s cheek as he pointed at Hex, crying out in frustration as his sister only stared at the figure longingly. Maybe she didn’t understand that she was giving it to them? Again, she presents the doll, this time smiling as she holds it out towards Charlotte and Victor.

Hex can tell that Charlotte so badly wants to reach out and take the figurine from her, but she’s still hesitating, uncertain and possibly a little frightened of the gesture Hex presented to her. So Hex decides to gently set the doll down on the ground and she takes a few steps back from it and the Twins. Hex pretty much expected that they wouldn’t go for the gift until she left… but to her surprise, Charlotte stepped forward and leaned down to scoop up the little toy in her dirt covered hand.

The look of wonderment on her face made all the failed attempts so, so worth it. Victor’s little fingers wrapped around his sister’s larger ones as she inspected the figure. It was too small for her… nearly too big for Victor, yet they both loved the little gift. Charlotte couldn’t believe that Hex was just… giving them the toy, but the strange woman didn’t even attempt to take it back from them, only smiling warmly as Victor moved the doll's arms and legs around while giggling to himself.

Both of the Twins were transfixed by the little toy she gave them. It didn’t immediately fix the tension between her and them, but now, whenever they saw her in a trial, they didn’t shy away from her or try to attack her! Victor approached Hex in a more friendly manner, not jumping on her face but rather attaching to her leg as she walked around the realm as she looked for his sister. Charlotte was still a little aloof around her, but she allowed Hex to approach her as she allowed Charlotte to take her brother off of her leg- or she tried to. Victor would hold on and dig his nails into Hex like he was a koala and her leg was a tree trunk!

But this was a good start, Hex thought. Charlotte would listen to her talk, Victor would babble enthusiastically in agreement or disagreement… The Twins even started to accept the other gifts that Hex failed to give them before! Charlotte still wouldn’t allow Victor to get too close to Hex… but she would allow her brother to hang around the other woman and play with her while observing them both closely. Charlotte has even begun to play with them both, too! It made Hex happy… She hoped that the three of them would get even closer as they got to know one another better…

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd the twins #not my oc #hexheathen's oc #not a slash fic #paid commission #enemies to friends #light violence #canon typical violence

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radiant-fanon-maker · 1 year

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?: Big tough guy? Not anymore, it seems.

Purple Yam: Hey! I-

?: Shut it, bitch

?: Crying? wow you really-

Milk: Stay away from him, jerk.

M: Let me bring you home.

[bonus, PY with a teddy bear ^-^]

#RFM Post #RFM Art #RFM Comic #Cookie Run #Purple Yam Cookie #Milk Cookie #Cookie Run Agere #Cookie Run Age Regression #Little Purple Yam Cookie #CG Milk Cookie #Caregiver Milk Cookie #swearing #tw swearing #minor swearing #light violence

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dreamer213 · 1 year

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Broken Machines: Lights the Dark

Chapter 28: Masquerade of Madness!

After the butterflies began fluttering throughout the halls and the reveal of the Grand Mystère’s date, Whitley opened his invitation as the staff tried to chase the insects out. Unluckily for him, his gift was far messier than Penny’s; once the top was pulled up, a switch was triggered, and it popped off with a haul of white and silver glitter. The brilliant glitter fell similar to snow and added shine to the arctic white wolf fur that lay inside the box. It would be a beautiful sight if not for the mess and headache induced by the event it was tied to. Speaking of the event, from that day, the two teens spent the week preparing for the ball. For Whitley, that meant picking out their attire, helping schedule transportation, and rescheduling work while Penny reviewed all the material she’d need for the party.

It was quietly intense as both spent more than a week embroiled in work. For Penny, it was almost a welcomed distraction from everything that had been going on recently. The uproar, the thefts, the truth about the Schnees, and so much more had been weighing down on her greatly, so having something as big and important as this to take her mind off those things was a small relief. But still, Penny couldn’t shake her lingering worries about Whitley. Every time she saw him, she’d find another indication of his dysfunctional family situation. How little he’d eat even when there was plenty of food to share, his daily consumption of coffee, and the egregious amount of work he seemed to be tasked with despite only being a child.

The saying ignorance is bliss was always an odd one to the young soldier, as a lack of awareness of their own situation only meant the person didn’t know to feel negatively about it, oblivious but not blissful. But now she understood why it was a saying. Before, she could only innocently guess what could be happening and hope that it was something minor. Now she could face the truth with no way of confronting it, and every time she looked at her love, she’d wonder if there were more wounds on his spirit, she couldn’t see. And so Penny poured herself into preparing for the ball.

Now the Grande Mystère Ball, as Whitley told her, was the most fabulously dramatic night of the year for elites. And after seeing their invitations, he knew that would be absolutely overwhelming, and Penny would need to be at her best to survive the night. However, due to the event's prestige, the only real choice he has is to prep her carefully as they readied themselves so as not to impede Penny’s recovery. It was a hard decision to make, especially with Jacques breathing down his neck about making sure the “military dog” didn't embarrass them. Still he didn’t want to risk Penny’s health for one night so he did his best to light the load on her where he could. Despite that, Penny still pushed herself to improve her etiquette before the party. Using proper table manners every time she ate, practiced her expressions in the mirror as she got ready in the morning, and shadow-danced whenever she found the chance; regardless of her current mental state, the ball was too momentous of an event for her to falter.

When the night of the Grande Mystère finally came, the manor was in an even greater frenzy the night of the concert. Julia handled her directly this time, guiding her through the mayhem and to the guestroom. This time, however, once inside Julia led Penny to the bathroom that now had a powder room stool sat next to the tub. She draped a towel over the front of her before going over to the tub and turning on the water. Once the water was warm enough, Julia sat Penny down in the stool and washed and conditioned her hair. When she’s done, Julia grabs a blow dryer and dries Penny’s hair diligently before getting to the style. This hairstyle is both simple and intricate as after a good brushing, Julia took a section of hair from both sides of Penny’s head, braided them, then tied them together at the back, styled them into a flower-shaped bun, then interweaved the rest of the braided into one trialing braid and tying off the curled ends into an upside down heart shape. And to add a little polish to the look, she also re-curls the ends gently with a curling iron and gives each a spray of hairspray to add some bounce.

With the hair done, the two leave the bathroom and head for the vanity for makeup. Tonight’s makeup is a far cry from the usual, as Julia uses a glittery black eyeshadow as a base, then hot pink on the outer edges of both lids and blush pink on the rest. To highlight the pinks, Julia also applies a small amount of mascara to Penny’s top lashes and draws a thin cat’s eye wing with a black eyeliner pin. For lips, she gives her a layer of magenta lipstick than a coat of transparent pink gloss over it for shine. Her light coat of blush was a softer pink and was brushed on closer to her cheekbones, highlighting her face’s overall structure. And as a final little touch, Julia gives Penny’s wrist and shoulders a light spray of lavender and cheery blossom perfume.

On to the nail art, her fingers and toes nails were painted a glitter-filled black and decorated with silver and white lace detailing. With all the cosmetic work done, Julia leaves to let Penny get dressed in peace. Penny goes over to the bed to retrieve her ensemble for the evening; it's the pink and black gown she received at Stellar, the one that captured her the most. She takes her time putting on the dress, only calling for Julia when she can’t close the corset back. As Julia fastens the corset, Penny makes sure the dress covers her lower and middle back while she’s behind her. Despite the fact Julia won't see anything if she looked nor knew what to look for, Penny couldn’t help but worry about the what-ifs. As she feels the ribbon corset are tightened near her spine, Penny holds her breath as she tries to hold back the chill of discomfort the feeling gave her. Once the gown is on, its time for the accessories; her shoes were a pair of black open-toed heels with embedded sliver sequence and a bow on that vamps. For jewelry she wore a two strand black pearl necklace with a silver pampel shaped brooch with a small diamond at its center enter connecting the strands and the pair of diamond earrings Beaufort. Finally, Penny clips the hair accessory, made of hot pink lace and decorated in black pearls, into place right under her bun. Than she slides on the thin, baby pink gloves and their black pearl bracelets, placing her necessities into the matching pink clutch, then picks up her mask before taking in her full image in the vanity mirror.

Looking at herself was like gazing into a magic mirror; she had never looked this different before. She looked mature but delicate in an elegant way, a far cry from her normal self. It was almost theatrical how much she’d changed hearts to suit the situation. But then again, the mission itself was predicated on her pretending to be something she was not and letting others believe in her façade.

Penny: A wordless lie, so easy to believe it feels impossible to clarify.

She muses to herself as she raises the butterfly mask to her face. But before she can, Julia intervenes.

Julia: Hold it! Don’t you dare put that on until I get a picture!

Penny opens her mouth to protest but immediately relents and grabs her scroll from her bag. She set it to the camera and hands it over to Julia before stepping back to give her space. As Julia lines up the shoot, Penny's unease gets the better of her, and she can’t help but question her.

Penny: Is this really necessary?

Julia: Yes.

Penny: But you’ve already taken pictures of me two times?

Julia: Yes, but that was then, and this is now. Besides, I like having lasting evidence of my work for clients to look back on. So they always remember how beautiful they can be. Now put your hands together, rest them on the top of your skirt, and look forward.

She asks cheerfully, to which Penny obliges. After a few clicks Julia takes one last look at the pictures before handing the scroll back to Penny, gathers her tools, and tells Penny that Hannah will take her to the car soon before heading back out into the halls. Penny bids her farewell and thanks as she leaves the room. Now alone, Penny dawns her mask and begins her usual prep for elite events, strategizing her movements for the evening.

Penny: This is completely new territory, the elite event of the year, the Grande Mystère Ball. From what Whitley’s told me, most of my suspect list will be in attendance. With that many people to watch, I’ll have to be careful with how I spend my time. Since three out of the eight have already been proven to have some ties to thefts, I should focus on the five unconfirmed to see if I can confirm or disregard anyone. But since this event is supposed to be highly festive; I might have to switch between my targets to avoid suspension. But to what existent?

Penny ponders her situation for a while but eventually recognizes that she’ll just have to wait and see. Not long after that, Hannah arrives as promised and takes Penny back to the main entrance. As Hannah opens the front door, they see the Schnee family’s white limousine departing from the driveway. Penny holds back a pout as they watch the limo drive away. She had missed her chance to see Whitley all dressed up before they left. And even though they were going to the same place, he’d no doubt be swarmed by girls again, and she’d be busy investigating.

Penny: Aw, I really wanted him to see me in this.

Penny laments to herself as Hannah walks her to her mode of transportation for the event. Oddly the enough, this time, it wasn't the usual black luxury car but a white limousine, one without the family crest on its grill. Godfrey opens the door for her, and Penny waves goodbye to Hannah before she gets in. Once both driver and passenger are safely buckled in, Godfrey puts the limo in drive and pulls off onto the road.

The ride is a bit more scenic than usual as they travel to the residential areas of Atlas’s most wealthy. Eventually, they reach a large gated community; Godfrey shows the guards his credentials, and they are allowed passage. After driving past a dozen or so mansions, Penny sees spotlights coming from the furthest part of the community. As they get closer, a large mega mansion comes into view. The exterior was marble and extremely lavish; it almost rivaled the Schnee Manor in the sense of style. However, the mansion was much smaller and had much more modern architecture. The place is surround by limousines and even a few horse drawn carriages, some dropping off others staying, as the elite pour through the mansion’s entrance. Godfrey gets in the drop-off line with the others, and after a small wait, they arrive at the front.

Godfrey: Here we are. Be safe and have fun at the party, Ms. Penny!

Penny: Thank you, Godfrey, and I’ll try!

She says with a smile and a wave before getting out of the limo. As soon as she’s out, Penny takes stock of her surroundings, their people talking out front, large armed guards around the entrance, and a few service vehicles heading around back. Normally enough for a large party. Seeing nothing odd nor spotting any of her suspects, Penny heads inside. She followed the laid by the long red carpet and guards, who were dressed like knights, strangely enough. Once at the entrance to the ballroom, she stands in line with many others awaiting entry. At the doors, there was a man at a podium dressed in what appeared to be royal announcer regalia and two guards on holding the handles of the doors. Each time someone approaches, the man holds out his hand for their invitation, inspects it thoroughly, stamps and returns it then nods to the guards. The guards nod back and then open the doors, and the guests enter. The guards close the doors, and the announcer says something into the mic on his podium, which is followed by some commotion in the ballroom. After a long wait, Penny finally makes it to the podium.

Announcer: Invitation, please.

He asks. Penny pulls out her invitation and hands it to the man. He looks it over before stamping and returning the black card to her.

Announcer: Thank you, my lady, and Welcome to the ball.

Penny: You're welcome, Sir. And thank you for having me.

She chirps sweetly, eliciting a small smile from the announcer as he signals the guards to open the doors. Penny walks through the door and steps onto the top of a grand staircase; the click of her heels against the hard marble floor is only softened by the red carpet lining the stairs. She doesn’t get the chance to look around before the announcer’s voice comes booming out rom an unseen sound system.

Announcer: Lords and Ladies, presenting Lady Penny Polendina!

At that announcement Penny hears applause and finally takes in her surroundings. There are guests standing and seated in ballroom, many were standing near the ends of the staircase. It looked like a scene from a fairytale with the pearly white walls trimmed in the same brown marble as the floor and covered in ornate designs and the lavish curtains on the stain glass windows. The golden chandelier’s light seemed to make everything gem and jewel on the guests look dazzling. It was so beautiful it was almost overwhelming.

Penny calmly walks down the stairs to the applause, keeping her composure despite the many stares on her. As she descends, she can hear whispers from the onlookers. “Who is that?” “Never seen her before.” “How did she get in?” “So plain.” are just a few of the quiet criticisms Penny catches as she walks. She pays them no mind and enters the ballroom smiling confidently. This is it; this place will be her battleground for the evening as she investigates her suspects. Hors d'oeuvres were being served, bands of violinists were playing soft music, drinks were being passed out freely, and the chatting had begun long before she entered.

Penny: Alright, time to look around and find my suspects.

Penny states confidently to herself as she strides through the crowd of people. She looks around for a while until she spots a familiar profile near one of the buffet tables. Despite her face being covered by a sparrow mask, her green hair, now in a low braid, and her soft voice were unmistakable.

Penny: Esther?

The utterance of her name causes Esther to turn and see she catches sight of Penny. She stops filling her plate, picks up the skirt of her tan and brown ball gown, and quickly walks over to her.

Esther: Penny?

She soft coos in response to her call as she takes a spot next to her. Her disposition is completely different from the last time they met, though her shyness is still prominent. Penny offers her a hug, to which Esther politely rejects, and they begin to converse.

Penny: I wasn’t expecting to see you again soon, especially not at another event.

Esther: Well, it is the Grande Mystère; I couldn’t not go unless my life depended on it, or else my parents would never forgive me.

Penny: Oh, you came with your family?

Esther: Yeah, but my Mum’s already run off to find her gossip pals, and Dad’s stuck in the bathroom.

Penny: Is he sick?

Esther: Not really, but the ride here was long, and he gets car sick, and when he gets car sick, his IBS flares up.

Penny: Oh, that’s very unfortunate.

Esther: Yeah, but it does put me off socializing duty for a bit. (giggles)

Esther jokes gleefully, her spirit lightened by lower social pressure. Penny laughs, too, happy to see that her little friend has recovered from the awful incident. Esther offers Penny a mini quiche from her plate, which she obviously accepts. It’s bite-sized, so Penny pops it into her mouth whole. It’s a savory delight filled with a nice blend of cheese, some spicy sausage, and a bit of spinach. As Penny swallows, Esther continues the conversation.

Esther: So, what do you think of this whole setup?

Penny: I think it’s beautiful; it feels like I’m standing in a storybook!

Esther: I guess you could say that. But don't get fooled. This party always turns into a disaster.

Penny: Really? Have you been to a Grande Mystère Ball before?

Esther: No, but I do know that the host always picks his guests in a way that produces the most drama.

Penny: I also heard that, but I understand how that would work and haven’t seen anything that could be classified as dramatic yet.

Esther: That’s because you’re probably a reactor.

Penny: A reactor?

Esther: Yeah, people like you and me aren’t the one who starts the drama, but we're the ones who react to it and make it spiral. Like gasoline on a fire.

Penny: Oh, so what do you call the people who start the drama?

Esther: That’s easy, they’re called-

???: PENNY!

Esther is interrupted by the South someone shouting Penny’s name, and the two turn their gaze toward the noise. Walking towards them, wearing a baby pink ball gown with a layered ruff skirt and puffy sleeves, matching heels, a diamond tiara, a small white purse hung from her shoulder, and a white cat mask was Octavia. As so as she’s close enough, Octavia wraps her arms around Penny in a big hug, the scent of rose and peppermint wafting off of her.

Esther: -the brazen.

Esther completes her sentence while taking in the sight, confused. Meanwhile, Penny, who’s starting to get used to her energy, returns Octavia’s hug and gently pats her head, being careful not to knock off the many white pearls in her updo. Once the girl had her fill, she pulls back and greets her friend properly.

Octavia: It’s so good to see you; I missed you so much!

Penny: It’s nice to see you too, Octavia.

Octavia: I can’t believe you got invited! Beaufort never invites kids to his parties, so I thought there’d only be a few and no newcomers, but here you are!

Penny: Here I am.

Octavia: Eh! This is gonna be so fun! We can spend the whole party together and-Oh, whose this?

Octavia inquires as she finally notices Esther and points at her. Esther stumbles a bit at the sudden question, avoiding eye contact as she stutters out an answer.

Esther: Oh! I’m..Uh..Esther, Esther Hel-Hellebore. C-charmed to meet you.

Octavia: Aw, what such a cute accent; l love it. (giggles) Hi, I’m Octavia, Penny’s friend. Are you her friend too?

Esther: Not really...She just saved me from…a hassle, and I still kind of owe her one. So at best, I’d say we’re acquaintances.

Octavia: Ah, well, I’m sure you would be great friends if you want to!

Esther: I guess so, if that’s okay with her?

She says, looking shyly in Penny’s direction, who smiles at her warmly as she replies.

Penny: Of course, I love making new friends.

Esther: Oh! O-okay, if that's what you want.

Octavia: Yay, now we’re both her friends! Hey, if you become my friend too; then we can be a friend group. Like three Musketeers but with girls in cute dresses!

Octavia twirls around, accentuating her point and causing Penny and Esther to giggle at her silliness. But for Penny, a sigh follows the giggles as she laments about her situation. Though a night having fun at a party with friends was the stuff of dreams to her, Penny had more pressing matters to attend to. She’s about to reject the offer when suddenly, the lights dim, and the music stops. There’s confused murmuring from some of the guests while others look amused, but soon everyone’s attention goes to the grand stair case as spotlight shine on the top, the door of the ballroom swing open as a man walks through. He’s dressed to the nines in a three-piece suit that seems to change color in a gradient rainbow under the light, gold-colored shoes, a gold cape with white fur trim and golden threading, many rings, a fine gold watch, a gold and diamond brooch, and what look to be an honest-to-goodness king’s crown with accompanying scepter in on hand and gold diamond studded microphone in the other. The man seems delighted with the scene before him, playfully straightening his shiny multi-colored bangs as the announcer pipes up again.

Announcer: Lords and Ladies of Atlas, presenting His Most Fabulous and Gloriousness, His Majesty Edouard Beaufort, The Daring!!!!

He cries, voice booming through the ballroom, followed by thunderous applause. Beaufort stands proudly, soaking up the attention for a moment, then raises his mic to his mouth and speaks.

Beaufort: Thank you, thank you all. You’re too kind. I hope you’ve been enjoying the evening thus far because the night has only just begun! Oh, Mes chéris!

He’s before clapping his hands together, turning the open entrance doors. Suddenly, music started playing, and several women came dancing down the stairs into the ballroom. They move beautifully in sync as they make their way to the circle dance floor near the back of the room. At the center of the dance floor, all but one of the dancers kneel, facing the crowd. The lead dancer remains standing, one hand outstretched towards Beaufort. Beaufort raises his microphone again, pausing for a moment to build tension, then, with a big grin, gives her the queue.

Beaufort: Welcome to the Grande Mystère Ball, Moi Menagerie Masquerade!

He shouts with glee as he descends the stairs while the dancers start their performance. Now the party had really started, the excitement in the air was palpable as guests go to greet the host, grab more drinks, or head to the dance floor to watch the show. Swept up in the excitement, Octavia takes Penny and Esther by the hand and drags them to the dance floor to watch the dancers. Penny’s thinking of excuses to get away until she spots Alejandro Altissima, bear mask resting on his forehead, sitting at a table near the dance floor, readjusting his necktie, watching the show.

Perfect.

Penny speeds up to match Octavia’s pace and leads them to a table not too far from Altissima’s. The girls sit, and Penny alternates between watching the dancers and watching Altissima. She times herself, switching between the two, every few minutes so as not to seem suspicious or get sucked into the show. And what a show it The first number is a mixture of Vacuo belly banding and rhythmic gymnastics. The dancers’ sequins-covered golden customs and jewelry shine brightly under the lights, making every movement look breathtaking. By the fourth dance, nothing of notice had happened with Altissima until Joseph, and Juliette Speedwell, clad in bronze boar masks and matching blue and gold attire, approached him. Joseph takes a seat next to him without asking, which makes Altissima grimace for a moment before he pulls out the other chair beside him for Juliette. She thanks him as she sits while looking pointedly at her husband, and the two businessmen share chatting. Penny checks over to see that her companions ’ attention is still on the show so she can get up and move closer to the conversation, but as she does, she sees a man in a white hair mask standing behind Octavia!

She tenses up for a second and is about to when she notices the man’s attire, a pink suit with a white dress shirt and white dress shoes, a match set to Octavia’s dress. His posture was also non-hostile; instead of looming over her, he looked comfy and familiar with her, a kind light shining in what she could see of his gray eyes. Penny’s still unsure and is about to move to grab him, Octavia looks up at him and squeals in surprise.

Octavia: Daddy!

Sylas: Princesa!

They squeak at each other as Sylas wraps his arms around his little girl.

Sylas: So this is where you ran off to? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to watch the show?

Octavia: Because I went looking for my friends, not the show, Daddy.

Sylas: Friends?

Octavia: Yes, this Esther-

She points to Esther, who shyly waves at the man before quickly averting her gaze.

Octavia: And Penny!

She points to Penny, who takes a step back right as they turn their attention to her and waves to Sylas.

Penny: Hello.

Sylas: Ah, so this girl you’ve been talking about? Nice to meet you, dear. I am Sylas Foxglove, this little princess’s Papa.

He declares with a smile as he holds out his hand for her to shake, which she does, keeping her grip soft as possible. The man’s grip is surprisingly soft and loose as though he’s trying not to hold to tight. When they let go Sylas continues.

Sylas: Thank you for being so kind to my baby; she doesn’t have many friends, so her Mama and I were very happy to see she warmed up to someone so quickly.

Octavia: Daddy!

Penny: It’s fine. Octavia’s a very nice girl, and I enjoy her company, so being her friend has been quite fun!

Sylas: I’m sure it is; my sweet little gatito has always been a playful one!

Octavia: Daddy, stop!

Octavia grabs his arm and starts jostling it to get him to stop talking. This doesn’t faze Sylas in the slightest and he responds to her fit by pinching her cheek. As the father and daughter pick with each other, Joseph and Altissima walk over to their table. Penny’s the first to notice them and sits down quietly, wanting to see how the situation would unfold. Sylas catches sight of them right after Penny; the playfulness in his eyes burning away into contempt, and his loose hold on his child grew tight and protective. And lastly Octavia and Esther notice the two men standing next their table. Esther looks slightly confused while Octavia’s face goes pale with horror at the sight of Joseph; she looks down at her hands, hoping to hide her panic. Despite the drastic shift in the atmosphere, Joseph greets his long-time business rival cheerfully.

Joseph: Evening there, Foxglove!

Sylas: Speedwell.

Joseph: Good to see you out and about again, heard you’ve been locked up in your office round the clock for weeks now.

Sylas: I was busy.

Joseph: Could’ve guessed that! What with all that product going missing, I bet you’ve been having a Hell of a hard time keeping things running!

Sylas: Excuse me?

Sylas, Octavia, and Penny tense up, the man’s gaze turns vinous as he tries hard not to show his anger and his daughter grips his arm protectively, her fear rising. Meanwhile, Atlissma looks surprised by Speedwell’s words but stays silent, and Penny notes his reaction and takes a second to thoroughly look Speedwell over. The air of cockiness around him was punctuated by the scent of wine, and the look of satisfaction on his face made clear to her that this was an act of drunken maliciousness. An act that only just began as the greasy man resumes the conversation.

Joseph: Well, Altissma and I were just talking shop and realized when all this mess with those rats from Mantle started, you got hit first, and we just want to make sure you and yours were doing alright.

Sylas: (sharp inhale) I’ve been doing what I can to remedy the situation.

Joseph: I sure hope so cause with the way things are right now, your whole business could go under if you get a handle on it soon! And I hated to lose my favorite little compadre to thieves and embargoes!

Sylas:…You know what? I think this is a bit too heavy a topic for tonight. We’re at a party, aren’t we? Why bog down the atmosphere with this business talk?

Joseph: Um, I wa-

Sylas: Instead of stressing ourselves over company issues, why don't we go have a few drinks, maybe light up some cigars? I brought a few of my favorite brand.

He says with a tremendous amount of fake enthusiasm and an almost strained smile. This surprises Atlissma and confuses Speedwell for a moment, but the older blonde calms quickly at the offer of cigars.

Joseph: Well damn, if I knew you had ‘em, I would’ve started with that!

Sylas: Fantastic. Girls, why don’t you go get some food, huh? They should be serving dinner by now.

Octavia: B-But we were watching the dancers.

Sylas: Por favor, ve por ahora, tengo que encargarme de.

Octavia:…Sí, Papá.

Octavia sighs, Sylas kisses the top of her head before stepping back so she can leave. She gets up from her chair and calls on her companions.

Octavia: Come on, girls, let's go.

Esther stands immediately, and Penny almost hesitates but grabs her clutch off the table and stands up with them. It would be no good for her to stay behind with this type of tension between the men. Besides, she'd already heard enough from them to move on. The third teen girls take their leave as the men go back to the other table, Speedwell throwing his arm around an irritated Sylas as they walk away. The group of girls walk in silence as they journey to find the food tables; once they’re a good distance away, Esther finally speaks up and asks a question.

Esther: What…what was that all about?

She inquiries softly, a mix of confusion and concern in her tone. Octavia doesn’t look back as she thinks about what to say. Uneasy and unsure, she tries to articulate her words in a way that doesn’t cause worry, but her heart quickly fails her as opened her mouth only to stammer.

Octavia: T-that was…it was..ah-

Penny: An adult conversation on an issue that shouldn’t be discussed at a party, especially in front of children.

Esther: Oh, but-

Penny: And it would probably be best not to speak about it and cause more unnecessary discourse.

Esther: Understand, never mind.

Hint taken Esther stops talking about the issue, the tension drops with the conversation, and Octavia gives Penny a look of relief and thanks, to which Penny smiles back at her. After a little more walking, the girls find buffet tables, each having its own selection, and are decorated to match. The seafood platters are have mermaid silhouettes craved into serving platters, trays of beef dishes are decorated with minotaur imagery, many of the desserts are topped with sugar glass or chocolate fairy wings, and so on. Bottles of expensive wine, rum, whisky, and other varieties of alcohol were readily available, being served alongside nonalcoholic beverages by servers dressed in old servant garb.

The girls grab some plates and scatter as they go and partake in the banquet before them. Esther prioritizes the lobster, while Octavia goes straight for the desserts, most likely trying to soothe her worries with sweets. On the other hand, Penny keeps things balanced by getting a small cut of wagyu steak, three shrimp, and a small side of grilled asparagus. As she grabs a drink to pair with her meal, Penny spots a familiar white wolf mask and icy blue eyes by the seafood tables. Carefully loading caviar onto a large plate alongside many other delights, Whitley seemed bored, if not annoyed, by the situation he found himself in. Playing errand boy for his father while he chatted up the host at an already irritating party was a headache in and of itself but knowing how grave his punishment would be if he faltered kept him from audibly sighing. As he turns to walk back, Penny takes her glass of sparkling grape cider and follows him.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she wanted to check up on him and make sure he was doing okay. After Mary’s story and seeing how much the preparation for this night stressed him; Penny needed to ensure he wasn’t pushing himself passed his limits. She keeps a reasonable distance as she trails him but stops when she notices another one of her targets. Sitting at a table, honey bee mask under her elbow, looking at her scroll, and practically inhaling a bottle of sauvignon blanc by herself, Regina Holly looked absolutely miserable as she texted someone at a rapid pace. Penny looks between the two for a second, before heading toward Holly, slightly pained to let Whitley go as she treks on. As she approaches, Penny watches the people around; most are wrapped up in their own conversations, but others periodically look over their shoulders at Holly and snicker before re-engaging with their peers. Internally sighing at their coarseness to a clearly struggling person, Penny minds her manners and walks up to Holly to ask for a seat at a the table.

Penny: Pardon me, but may I take a seat at this table?

Holly doesn’t respond nor acknowledge that Penny is standing right next to her; she’s too absorbed in her scroll to see anything else. Take another look around to ensure she’s in the clear Penny quickly looks over Holly’s shoulder, activates her advanced sight, and zones in on the phone screen. Sure enough, the caller ID was simply R, and the number matched to the other suspects. And much like her other conformed suspect, it seemed Holly’s deal had turned rotten, the screen showed at least an hour of her begging and threatening texts to the thefts but no reply to her. She disengages her detective mood and pulls back when Holly takes another swing of her wine before sloppily texting her co-conspirator.

With her suspicions confirmed and little to gain from talking to a desperate drunk, Penny gives a faux look of discomfort at Holly’s silence and walks away. Those who caught her walking off quickly commented on how inelegant Holly must be to have children running from her. Penny ignores the gossip as she returns to Octavia and Ester. The girls find a table and enjoy their meals, Penny taking the moment as a break from the investigation and actually enjoy the party. The steak is so tender practically melts in her mouth, and the rich flavor of meat and its juices are cut above anything she’s had before. The meat pairs well with the savoriness of the grilled asparagus and the slightly sweet but salty and tender flesh of the shrimp. Every bite is absolute bliss, and as she washes it down with a drink, the bubbles in her sparkling grape juice send a new cold ting down her throat. By the time they all finish their food, the dancers had left, and a group of magicians had taken their place.

As soon as Octavia takes notice of the new act, the group is off again. It’s rather convenient, as Octavia’s curiosity and Esther’s aversion to drama gave Penny the perfect excuse to roam around the party and leave an area quickly with suspicion. As the three watched the parade of performances, overheard hot gossip, and dodged some quiet but nasty fights, Penny remained vigilant for any information on her suspects. But after a while, all she had learned was that many were having problems dues to the thefts or were almost blackout drunk on fine wine somewhere. Despite this stale in progress Penny’s resolve was never shaken. She’d already seen and heard enough information to bring some people in for questioning, which was plenty good.

Penny: I just need a little more evidence to cover all my bases. Just enough so we can finally question someone and get to the thieves.

Penny thought to herself as the fire breathers finished their set and left the ballroom. After the fire breather act left, Beaufort returned to the mic and made a new announcement.

Beaufort: Lords and Ladies, I hope you’ve been enjoying this ball of mine.

The room responded with a row of soft applause, which Beaufort laps up. He listens to the clapping for a good long while until the room is quiet again before continuing on.

Beaufort: Thank you, you’re all just too much. Malgré tout, we’re almost halfway through the evening, and the dance floor hasn’t been free to guests all night! And what is a ball without dancing? So for now until the ball's end, I hereby declare the dance floor open! Musique!

He cries, and all the classical instrument bands in the room beginning to play a set list of formal dance music in harmony. It’s a surprising transaction as couples walk toward the dance floor and people start looking for a partner. It doesn’t take long for the dance floor to be filled with dancing people. Octavia was asked to dance by several young men in a manner of minutes, and Esther ran off to the bathroom to avoid the whole thing; this leaves Penny alone on the sidelines. Sitting in a chair on the edge of the dance floor, she watches out for Octavia as she dances and periodically looks out for her suspects.

Meanwhile, Whitley’s standing at his father’s side as he chats with yet another wealthy business owner about nothing in particular. Jacques chuckles at his own joke behind his dusty orange fox mask as his colleagues laugh along with him. He flings the long flowing sleeve of his fox fur coat t coat as he gestures, hitting Whitley in the side of the head. Whitley doesn’t look bothered by this. Instead, he quietly sighs and looks around the area; he had been so bored that he hadn’t noticed they’d managed to walk all the way to the dance floor. As he looks on, some girls pass by, notice his gaze in their direction, and giggle happily before waving to him. He waves back, and they squee before running off. Whitley tries hard not to scowl and looks back to his father to make sure he didn’t see that.

Whitley: The last thing I need is him trying to arrange something. Especially now.

He muses to himself, thought going to certain red head before something else catches his attention; it was Beaufort looking amused and heading straight towards them. The boy prayed the man would turn in any other direction so he could avoid the incoming painful conversation but to no avail. Soon Beaufort was striding right up to Jacques, flashing that billion lien smile and waving him over. As soon as someone points him out, Jacques immediately turns to greet the party host.

Jacques: Edouard!

Beaufort: Bonjour, mon ami, how have you been?

Jacques: I’ve been grand, as always, but tonight has put me into a particularly good d mood. (chuckles) Great party Edouard; you’ve really outdone yourself!

Beaufort: Oh, but of course, how could I not make this night absolutely fabulous after all that’s been happening?

Jacques: I agree; with this blasted embargo and lockdown, a ball like this was precisely what Atlas needed.

Beaufort: I know; that’s why I widened up the guest list to include the youths this year! I’m sure the young ones needed to have some fun, too, after being cooped up for so long. And I thought, “better to have them here than running in the streets. (Chuckles) Speaking of.

Beaufort twirls his specter before pointing at Whitley’s face, the large diamond tip a near inch from his face. Whitley tries not to flinch and forces a smile as he’s dragged into the conversation.

Beaufort: What’s this little wolf pup doing here, mucking about with the adults? Shouldn't he be chasing around the pretty little does on the dance floor?

Whitley: I prefer to watch rather than participate.

Beaufort puffs up his cheeks and pouts, unsatisfied with Whitley’s explanation.

Beaufort: I know that out of all three little Schnees, you were always the most astute. But still, you’re far too young to be sitting on the sidelines while there’s fun to had!

Whitley: I appreciate your concern but I-

Beaufort: In fact, why don't you go dance while I have a little business chat with your daddy, hmm?

Whitley: Excuse me?

Beaufort: Won’t it be just delightful? Putting those legendary dancing skills of yours to work will surely send the little ladies into a frenzy! Wouldn’t you agree, Jacques?

Whitley looks at his father, but his cold gaze only confirms what he except. Between his son’s comfort and the chance at profit Jacques would always choose profit. Without a word, he shoos Whitley toward the dance floor, and the boy obeys without complaint. The young man garners stares as people recognize him and where he’s going, he can already see some girls touch up their makeup as he approaches. This was so bothersome. To be forced to interact with these people at their most chaotic. And to dance with one of them was a chore with risk of vomit and unwanted affection. Then again that’s how it had always been for Whitley; dancing was about stature and aggrandizement, never an act of enjoyment. Except for the night he was announced as heir, the night he met her.

Whitley: I wonder where she is now; I haven’t seen her all night.

He thinks to himself as he gazes around for a suitable dance partner; when he sees a familiar head orange hair near the edge of the dance floor. He walks toward her without thinking, and as her visage becomes clearer, he’s certain it’s her. He stops a few feet behind her and takes a moment to gaze at her. She looks enchanting, like a fairy sneaking about the human world, trying its best not to be noticed. Innocent and gentle with an air of mystery that could lead to all sorts of mischief. But that was her charm; she seemed too good to be true in so many ways. And Whitley was glad to have gotten the chance to know her strengths, flaws, and oddities in the way he did. These warm thoughts and the sounds of music playing gave Whitley to an idea, a very bold idea. With one final, glance back to see if his father is serviceably distracted; he closes the distance and walks up behind her.

Penny feels someone tap on her shoulder and whirls around to face them, only to see Whitley standing behind her. He looks fantastic in his white and royal blue suit, the wolf fur clipped to his navy blue pants, smooth black gloves, and the shine of his silver brooch gives him the allure of some gentleman trickster wolf from a fable. The type that played tricks on children to teach them manners and swindle greedy nobles of their money for laughs. It’s oddly fitting for him, as it puts both his charm and prestige on display. But Penny didn’t care about that. She was just happy to see him. She’s tries to speak, but Whitley holds up a finger to her lips and silences her. He walks around the chair and stand in front of her, flashing a coy smile and bowing to her level.

Whitley: Excuse me, Miss, but may I have this dance?

He says with a devilishly alluring smile as he offers his hand to her. Penny’s mind goes blank for a moment, and she can feel her face heating up. This was too unfair; Whitley knew exactly what he was doing, and it was utterly underhanded, to say the least. Penny knew she wouldn’t say no, not to this, not to him, even if that meant taking some time from her mission. It wasn’t what she was supposed to do, but she couldn't help it, nor did she want to. Whitley and his charm were one of her weaknesses, one she loved to indulge in. She takes his hand and stands up, holding it gently as he guides her onto the dance floor. A new song is playing, a lovely waltz on the more complex side, waltz of the flowers. The two get into position and, with hesitation, start to dance in harmony with the music. It’s a far cry from the last time they danced together; Penny doesn't look down for a second, confident in her moves. As the music swells, it gets the section with multiple twirls and a small dip at the end. Whitley feels slightly concerned for her, worried the pressure to perform in front of so many people after practicing privately would get to Penny. But this worry is quickly replaced with pride as Penny executes the moves without fail, not a single misstep on the twirls, and she flashes him a cheerful smile as he dips her gracefully. When he pulls her back up, Whitley can’t help but smile with her. His little student had surpassed his expectations with flying colors! He chuckles and starts singing her praises as they continue to dance.

Whitley: You really have come a long way, haven't you? From dodging my feet to perfect twirls without a hint of hesitation. You’ve become quite a good dancer, Penny.

Penny: Of course I have; I practiced well, and I have a very good teacher.

She retorts back, her smile turning into a smirk. This gives Whitley pause for a moment, a tinge of blush burning onto his cheeks. She’d actually had the nerve to fluster him in public like this and at a party, no less! In an instant, she had triggered something in him, something that lacked fear or shame. His smile became flirtatious, and his eye shone with mischievous glee as he replied to her sly praise.

Whitley: Oh really? Well, I’m sure he’d be very proud to see you like this. Moving gracefully and without fear, confident and capable in your beautiful gown and looking absolutely stunning under the ballroom lights.

Penny: I…I’m sure he is.

Penny says softly, blush deepening as she finds herself unable to withstand his flirting. This gathers another chuckle from Whitley, who looks at her fondly. She could never beat him when it came to flirting, and her adorable reactions just egged him on. Feeling particularly amorous, Whitley keeps at it as they dance.

Whitley: You look beautiful, by the way. With the mask and all the embellishments, I almost didn’t recognize you when I walked over.

Penny: Then what made you recognize me?

Whitley: The dress and that lovely bright orange, along with air of innocence you always have. Hard to mistake you for anyone else with that kind of charm.

Penny: Thank you, you look amazing too.

Whitley: Really, in what way?

Penny: In the same way, you always look amazing, princely.

Whitley: Oh, you mean handsome and dashing?

Penny: No, actually.

Whitley: Huh?

Penny: I think you’re more beautiful than handsome. Like a painting or a marble bust, lovely but fragile and very precious. It makes me want to hold you and protect you from all the bad in the world.

Whitley doesn’t retort, truly at a loss for words and thoughts. Yet again, she had touched a nerve that he didn't even know existed in him anymore. Part of him wanted to breakdown and himself into her arm, lay his battered and torn heart bare at her feet to cradle. The other wanted to kiss her silly for saying something so sweet and see if the vessel of those honey-soaked words tasted just as sweet as they sounded. Unfortunately, these thoughts cannot be realized as the song nears its end. From there, Whitley stays silent as he focuses on finishing the dance. Penny follows suit but does so reluctantly; she doesn't want the dance to end so soon, even if it has already been a long one. She wanted this dance, this moment, to last forever and in truth, so did her partner, but for better and for worse, it was not to be.

The song swells for the final time and soon comes to an end; the two are still in each other grasp when a loud pop from behind them catches everyone’s attention. Through the large stained glass windows that covered the rear wall of the ballroom, bright, beautiful fireworks can be seen. First, a large white barcode crown burst into the air, next bright gold dahlia, then a succession of falling leaves. Soon it breaks into a full on display, White and gold fireworks peeper the sky before them and some guest stop their tracks to watch while others walk out to balcony just beyond the far wall to get a better look. Penny is dazzled by the light show and lets go of Whitley, rushing toward the balcony. Whitley follows her out, and soon they’re both standing by the railing watching fireworks rain down. The young man was impressed by the display, noting the tremendous effort it must have taken to set up the launch and obtain the pyrotechnics.

Whitley: A dramatic show-stopper in the middle of the party? That’s so on-brand for him.

Whitley jokes to himself while shaking his head; he turns to Penny to ask her opinion on the display.

Whitley: Quite a grand display for the middle of a ball, wouldn’t say Pen-

But the words turn to dust in his mouth, and the world seems to stop when he looks at her. She was breathtaking, eyes glimmering with excitement and joy and a soft smile on her lips as a light wind blew her hair. Whitley stared transfixed for what felt like an eternity, then, without thinking, he reached over and cupped her chin in his hand. The contact takes Penny’s attention away from the show and to Whitley’s sparkling eyes. His face was so close she could feel his breath on her face, and the warmth in his gaze was too strong to pull away from. So she didn’t. Penny doesn’t move an inch and waits for him to close the distance to kiss. But just as her eyes fluttered shut and their lips were near centimeters away from each other, a loud shout broke through the romantic atmosphere.

Datura: YOU GREEDY FUCKING BITCH! YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS?!

Matthew Datura shouted drunkenly into his scroll, clearly agitated. People start to stare at the shouting man with discomfort and disgust, but Penny quickly recognizes him as one of her suspects. Datura, noticing the eyes on him, retreats back into the ballroom, and Penny follows, not before giving Whitley an apologetic look. He nods, knowing she has work to do, and watches her give chase. As Penny trails Datura, she watches him continue to yell and speed walk toward the main entrance without watching where he’s going. The man’s so preoccupied that he slams right into Holly, and both fall to the floor. The older man grumbles in pain before realizing he’s lost his scroll and stumbles around to find it. But just as he spots, so does Holly, and once she looks at the screen and recognizes the number, she immediately grabs it and takes off running. Penny stops and helps the man off the floor, but he pays her no mind as he yells after Holly. Now Holly’s the one shouting accusations at the caller as Datura chases after her, with Penny not far behind. The three make it all the way to the front of the ballroom, where in another unfortunate turn of events, Primrose spots her colleagues running towards the exit. Confused by the women’s behavior, Primrose runs up to Holly as she’s trying to get the heavy entrance doors to open with one hand.

Primrose: Regina! What the hell are you doing?! Stop that, you’ll break your wrist!

She tries to chastise her but to not respond, so she grabs her hand and tears off the door handle. Holly struggles against her, causing the scroll to fall, and when Primrose looks down and sees her eyes go wide. Her bewilderment quickly turns into anger and blind rage. She grabs Holly by the hair, pulling her away from the door, then shouts in her face!

Primrose: YOU BITCH, I KNEW YOU PLOTTING AGAINST ME! I’ll FUCKING KILL YOU!

The whole room gasps at the declaration and watches on in horror as the two women begin to fight. After weaving her way through the crowd, Penny makes her way to the front, followed by and out a breath of Datura. The man catches sight of his scroll and stumbles forward to get it, and Penny steps forward to stop the fight. But before she can, someone calls out to her.

Octavia: Penny!

Esther: What the hell’s going on?!

The two teens cry out as they rush to Penny’s side, Octavia holding Penny’s forgotten clutch in her shaking hands as she clings to the girl's side, terrified. This distracts the young soldier moment, and she doesn't see Sylas hurrying past them to break the women up, Speedwell and Altissima following close behind. Sylas takes hold of Primrose, and Altssima grabs Holly; they pull them apart just as Primrose starts clawing at Holly’s throat. She’s still flailing as Sylas pulls her away and holds her back by her arms.

Sylas: Páralo Parada! What the hell has gotten into you?!

Primrose: THAT BITCH SOLD ME OUT!

Sylas: What?

Primrose: SHE SOLD ME OUT THOSE THIEVES! SHE THREW MY WHOLE OPERATION TO HELL!

Sylas: W-what? N-no. Come on, Julia, there’s no way any of us would ever do that to each other, even if you’re rivals!

Sylas tries his best to keep his composure and diffuse the situation. In his desperation, he looks to Speedwell for support in his claim.

Sylas: Joseph, back me up here! You know neither one of us would-

But when he looked at, the nervousness and fear on the older blonde man’s face crushed what little faith he had in him and confirmed the suspensions he’d been boiling over all night.

Sylas: You don’t…You-You- Bastardo sucio!

He shouts, letting go of Primrose and launching himself at Speedwell! The two men start to have it out while Primrose continues her attack on Holly; Datura’s stuck on the ground between the fighting clutching his scroll. Altissma is shocked still for a moment, but when the implications finally hit him, his face contorts in rage, and he jumps into the fight. He joins Sylas in throating Speedwell, tackling the man to the ground and kicking him while Sylas repeatedly punches him in the face!

Penny: This is getting out of hand.

Penny states before grabbing her clutch from Octavia and fishing through it to find her scroll. Once she’s got it; she dials her direct emergency number and calls for backup.

Operator: Altas Security, What is your emergency?

Penny: This is Penny Polendina; I need officers and ambulances at my location immediately. There’s been an interaction involving several people, two of whom are likely injured and over 50!

Operator: Pinning your location now; authorities will be there shortly.

Penny: Thank you.

With that, she puts the scroll back in her bag, takes off her heels, and hands them to Esther. Before Esther can question what she’s doing, Penny activates her aura and runs into the fray! Taking on the easier target first, Penny runs up behind Primrose. She grabs her by the left arm, and uses her other hand to grab the sash on her dress. She swipes her feet while pulling the sash off, making Primrose to fall to her knees. while she’s down, Penny uses the sash as a rope and ties Primrose’s arms behind her back. With her subdued, Holly collapses onto the floor, a crying drunken mess, and Penny moves on to the men.

As Altissma kicks Speedwell in the ribs, suddenly, he’s pulled back, his arms are pulled behind him, and a knee digs into his back, forcing him to the ground. He tries to struggle against his attacker and protests.

Altissma: GET OFF ME!

Penny: Not until you stop struggling, and if you don’t, there will be a charge is resisting arrest added to the list of charges against you.

The man’s surprised by the young tone and firmness of the voice of his assailant and even more so when he realizes how strong she is. Unable to fight her off, Altissma eventually gives up and submits; Penny takes this chance to reach up and undo his necktie, using it as a makeshift restraint and binding his arms with it. Finally, she gets off him and runs to stop Sylas; as he’s about to bring down another punch, Penny grabs him by both arms. She forces him off Speedwell and onto his feet. He tries to pull back against her, but Penny holds him firmly in place, and he starts to scream!

Sylas: LET ME GO; THAT BASTARD STOLE FROM MY COMPANY! HE TRIED TO RUIN ME!

Penny: Mr. Foxglove, please stop. You're only making this worse.

Sylas: NO, THAT SON OF A BITCH DESERVES TO DIE!

Penny: Please stop, don’t do this in front of all these people and in front of your daughter.

Sylas: MY-M-My, my daughter?

He stops moving, the mention of his child pulling him out of his rage spiral. Penny turns him around and makes him face the crowd. The first thing he notices is Octavia, his precious daughter, hands covering her mouth as she cries. Her eyes are full of shock and fear as she stares at her father, and soon the man’s vision blurs with tears of his own as he realizes what he’s done.

Sylas: Oh my God. Oh god, what did I-Perdóname, Tavia.

He begs, going limp in Penny’s hold as he cries out. Seeing no more fight in him; Penny lets go of Sylas and kneels down next to Speedwell. The blonde man was bleeding and had at least a few fractures, but still breathing. She put him in the recovery position before getting up and walking over to one of the server stations to grab some towels and napkins to make bandages.

Penny: If you have any bandages, rubbing alcohol, or sterilizing wipes, bring them to me. I need to dress the wounds until the paramedics arrive.

She tells one of the terrified staff, who runs off to comply with her order. From there, Penny tends to the wounded, and the guards help take everyone involved with the scuffle into the foyer. Penny retrieves her things from Esther before joining them and gives Octavia a reassuring hug before she goes. Under stain, the party continues with the fight and the indomitable young redhead who stopped it single-handedly becoming hot gossip among the guests. When the authorities and ambulances do arrive, Datura, Holly, and Speedwell are taken to the nearest hospital, and Primrose, Sylas, and Altissma are hauled to the police cruisers. Penny’s giving her statement to an officer and is asking to be taken directly to Ironwood when she sees Primrose fighting against her cuffs as being put in the back of an officer’s car.

Primrose: THAT DAMN ROBYN! IF IT WEREN’T FOR THAT BACKS STABBING BITCH NONE OF THIS WOULD'VE HAPPENED!

She screeches as another officer comes over and pushes her into the cruiser’s backseat. Well, there was the answer she’d been searching so long for. The ringleader behind all this madness finally had a name.

Penny: So that’s their name, Robyn Hill.

Penny ruminated on that name, burning it deep into her psyche. Her chest burned with ugly heat; she wanted-needed to remember that name. That way, when she finally puts a face to it, she’ll know precisely where to point the aching rage that’s been brewing in her since she saw that truck overturned on the icy roads, and her fellow soldiers blooded and half dead. A feeling that permeates through as she gets into the passenger seat of one of the police cars and rides toward the nearest station.

There were still questions that needed to be answered, and tonight she had plenty of cause to get them.

#rwby fanfiction #fanfic #penny polendina #rwby #beta testers #whitley schnee #broken machines #fanfiction #cute #angst #oc #fluff #light violence #jacques schnee #this took way longer than it needed to #but it turned out pretty good

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mamamittens · 2 years

Text

A Prize to Die For

Spooktober day #11

Fandom: One Piece AU

Ship: Lightly Thatch/OC (Nikia)

Warnings: Murder, light description of blood and a corpse, as well as mention of hypothermia.

Word Count: 6,138

Sometimes Thatch made good investments. Little favors he cashed in at the most opportune times. Favors like convincing his brother, Teach, to accompany him to Winter Isle instead of the neighboring Summer Isle. Mostly for company and as a safety buddy when he gathers local ingredients. It is a perpetually frozen island after all. As strong as he is, he’s still just a man.

And he'd rather not experience frostbite or hypothermia for himself, really.

Thankfully, there was a veritable bounty of unique ingredients he could gather himself both in the market and in the wild. At this point, Teach was just there to look pretty for his own personal cherry pie later. It was nice to not be alone during his exploration though. While there were plenty of booths filled with locals willing to offer advice or explain things, having someone more familiar with his cooking needs was quite helpful. Not that it stopped him from making notes for personal experiments.

The locals were, surprisingly, some offshoot of Skypieans. Their wings were larger and clearly fluffier than any Skypiean Thatch had seen. Personally, he assumed it was because of the year-round climate on Winter Isle. Most Skypieans he’d seen tended to live in warmer climates, even their other counterparts the Shandians lived in tropical locals. Thatch imagined having wings was a hazard in below freezing temperatures, but making them denser and able to hold in heat would be a blessing.

Of course, that wasn’t the only thing he noticed about them either. They tended to be quite watchful of others. Both their own neighbors and the newcomers that explore the island or are there for the hot springs. Likely as a way to thwart unnecessary deaths if someone wanders too far afield. Apparently they even have a team of capable locals that do rescue work when the weather turns suddenly. Knowing how many foreigners are around would be quite helpful if you needed to make sure everyone was indoors suddenly.

Like, for example, the rowdy group of sailors that Thatch and Teach had seen across both islands for some time now. Once twelve men who traveled together and gawked at the unique landscape and people as they wandered around. Occasionally flirting with a few in a fairly obvious ploy to attract a one-night stand during their stay. No one seemed to take them up on it though, which Thatch put down as a consequence of their heavy-handed flirtations and stares. Not many people like being treated that way in Thatch’s experience. Especially when it was obvious the focus was on their more exotic features. Only half of their group went onto Winter Isles

“Would you gentlemen like to participate in a treasure hunt?” Thatch stopped in his tracks and turned at the soft, ‘customer service’ voice too peppy to be natural. It was a local woman, clearly addressing the six sailors with a fixed smile and large, round glasses. Dark brown hair pulled back with a ribbon to reveal a short undercut beneath it. Pale and freckled, she was bundled up in the usual thick jacket he’d seen around the island, a large emblem of wings over a cross on the front—the symbol of the rescue team Thatch assumed. But the most eye-catching detail about her was the massive wings.

Most of the locals had wings that went from head to waist or midthigh, usually in white or a color close to their hair. But this young lady had massive wings that partially dragged on the ground despite being held back and away from her body. From a fair bit over her head to the ground, the feathers were so long. The fluff thick and crowding her shoulders in a sea of white with dapples of gray, not unlike a barn owl. Thatch’s first assumption was that she had a devil fruit. An especially rare one since very few produce wings of any kind. Marco’s devil fruit being an obvious part of that exclusive group. But aside from their massive size, they looked just like everyone else’s wings.

Maybe this young lady was just lucky?

The men goggled at her with obvious interest that made Thatch wary.

“Ooh, a ‘treasure hunt’, huh? Are you the prize?” One of them cackled, his friends jeering with rude laughs.

The lady’s smile turned a little sharp as she held up a bright yellow bag and opened it.

“No. But this is.” She plucked out a massive fruit from it’s depths. Purple with sharp leaves and scales coming off of it, Teach sucked in a sharp breath behind him. The men she was addressing gasped as well, attention instantly moving to the devil fruit. “It’s a bit risky, but for a rare prize, I figured it would be worth it.” She declared. “I’ll hide this fruit near my house and whoever finds it, keeps it. And in case anyone gets lost, a rescue crew is able to be dispatched in short order. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

Obviously, the men would be stupid to turn down such an offer.

“Hey, Thatch… do you think she might need help?” Teach asks behind him. Thatch was a little surprised by the statement but, considering the borderline predatory behavior of the group they’d both witnessed… he probably wasn’t wrong. Personally, Thatch wasn’t that interested in the fruit. There was no telling what it was or what it would do—there was a lively debate in the medical community about whether or not the fruits affected people’s personality or thoughts. And Thatch didn’t much care to find out himself if the fruit turned out to be particularly morbid. What if it was a poison type fruit and made everything around you poisonous?! How would he be able to run his division focused on food preparation for their massive crew if his presence made every meal deadly?!

“…Maybe. You want to participate in the hunt?” Thatch asked, turning his head enough to properly address his brother while keeping an eye on the men.

“Yeah. Worse case scenario, nothing happens. Something does happen and Pops gets good press when he asks the locals if they want to fly his flag.” Teach grinned. Thatch nodded, approving of Teach’s foresight. Considering how much fun the crew has had here and it’s unclaimed status, it wasn’t a stretch to think Pops would offer his protection. They may not need it much considering the incredibly peaceful lifestyle the locals enjoy, but it couldn’t hurt.

And Thatch knows they make their own local brew that Pops would enjoy holding over Shank’s head, not to mention desserts you wouldn’t find anywhere else to tease Big Mom with, so there was also that.

“Let Marco know where we’re going and I’ll see if I can’t slide us into the event.” Thatch said before slapping on his most charming smile.

Thatch walked over to the young lady and waved. She seemed startled, blue eyes wide as she turned towards him, careful to put the fruit back in the bag.

“May I help you?” She asked politely, head tilting to the side with slightly narrowed eyes. It didn’t escape his notice that the locals had eyes on him, and the group of men were scowling.

“Is there room for two more in the hunt? My brother and I would also like to participate.” Her face fell a little as she frowned, looking away to nothing in particular as she thought for a moment. “I know six is a lot for one person to look over already, but I’m just in it to support Teach.”

She looked back at him for a moment longer, and suddenly she recognized him.

“Ah! One of Whitebeard’s crew? Isn’t this kind of thing a bit… boring for pirates? It’s not exactly a race or a fight.” She frowned, pushing her glasses back up her nose delicately. The men behind her began to look nervous suddenly. A-ha. So there was definitely some plan of foul play involved.

“Not at all! I’ll probably look for fresh ingredients while I’m ‘hunting’. And if there’s any injuries well, I’m not exactly certified but between Teach and I, we can at least carry them inside for medical attention!” Thatch offered, laying on the charm just a bit more than necessary. After a moment, she huffed and smiled reluctantly.

“Alright. I guess I’ll just have to hide it extra well to challenge eight people. I’m Nikia by the way. Premier Rescue Ranger. Where’s your brother so we can make our way up the mountain?” Nikia asked. Thatch looked around and found him a few feet back fixing a bag to his side. Probably supplies. “Oh, goodie. Well, let’s get on our way. I want plenty of daylight for the hunt. If it lasts until sundown, you’re all to immediately return to my cabin. If you think it’s cold right now, you’re in for a nasty surprise at night. Same goes for sudden weather changes. If I tell you to return, you return. No one can help you in a whiteout.” Nikia warned them in a frosty voice.

Thatch knew she was serious. Even as a commander, Thatch had to put on several layers and made sure Teach wore appropriate clothes. Thankfully, the clothes offered in the local stores were top-notch for heat insulation. No one on the ship was particularly prepared for long-term winter weather after all. Occasional blizzards on the grand line? Sure! Regular below freezing temperatures? Not so much.

“Alright, you heard the lady, Teach. Try not to get lost in your head and have to make an igloo to survive the night.” Thatch teased, smacking Teach’s back as they made their way up the mountain. Eyes still on their back as they left.

It was quite a walk up the mountain to a large cabin with a perpetually flashing red light on the roof. There was, thankfully, a path, though it was buried under snow. Nikia lead the front and ensure the way was clear for the group to proceed with little difficulty. Mostly by pushing snow out of the way with her wings. Thatch was very grateful when they reached the enclosed porch with stacks of wood lining the interior. Opening the door, Nikia did a verbal head count of each of them, patting them physically as they went by to warm up from the hike.

“—And eight! Alright, that’s everyone. I’ll restart the fire and bring in more wood. Bathroom is in the back, door’s labelled, and the sauna and hot spring is past the showers. If you want to use it, slide the plaque to warn others and thoroughly wash yourself up as they’re intended to be used naked.” Nikia explained efficiently as Thatch gamely picked up split logs to bring inside while she held the door open in surprise. “Oh. Thanks. Anyway, you’re all going to warm up for an hour while I hide the fruit. When I return, I’ll do a head count again before releasing you all to start the hunt.”

Nikia restarted the fire in the fireplace with practiced motions, packing in balls of old newspaper to catch for the logs. The men eagerly shed their coats and put them on the hangers to dry as they waited.

“I’ll make something warm to drink if you don’t mind me using your kitchen?” Thatch offered, eager to get some more feeling back in his hands. Nikia looked over her shoulder as the fire roared with a smile.

“Sure. Kitchen and pantry is stocked but keep in mind that snowstorms can last several days here.” She warned before going back to the door, bag in hand.

Thatch had a blast exploring the cozy kitchen and whipping up warm drinks for everyone huddled around the fire. One of them downed the drink in one go and made a bee line for the back of the cabin, a brief burst of cool air rushing around Thatch’s ankles as he opened a door. For the bathroom, Thatch assumed, but Teach checked not long after to use the toilet himself and laughingly discovered the man decided to use the sauna instead.

“Zeh-haha! I guess he couldn’t handle the walk up here! Better chances for the rest of us, eh boys?” Teach guffawed as he settled back onto the cushions set around the fireplace. One of the men scowled at the window seat bracketed by massive bookshelves.

“…I thought I saw him outside though…” He muttered before shaking his head and moving away from the chilled seat.

“Might be our host. She’s got… another fifteen minutes before the hours up after all.” Thatch mused as the group of now seven waited. “Hope the guy doesn’t stay in the sauna too long. Bad for your health.”

“Pretty nice digs though, huh Thatch?” Teach accepted a second cup of hot chocolate. Thatch nodded.

“It is. I guess the light on top of the cabin is in case people get lost after nightfall. If you start to get too cold, let me know and we can come back here. There’s no point risking our lives for a fruit. Or our fingers.” Thatch wriggled his around the handle of a mug pointedly. Teach grimaced.

“Yeah, I like my hands as they are.” Teach grumbled, drinking some more with a sigh of relief. Heavy boots knocked on the front porch as Nikia returned. Covered in a fine dusting of snow and shaking. Face red but pleased.

“Alright. Give me a bit to warm up and go over the safety guidelines again and I’ll release you… hey, where’s your friend?” Nikia asked with a scowl, shaking her coat on the porch to remove the snow, a chill wind sweeping through the cabin.

“Sauna, apparently he couldn’t take the cold.” Nikia paused and cocked her head with narrowed eyes.

“…The sauna? Hold on a moment.” Nikia removed her boots and hung her jacket up before stalking to the back of the cabin. Without the jacket, she looked even smaller than before, slight frame eaten alive in a warm sweater and jeans. Thatch felt more than he heard the door being opened. “For fuck’s sake!” Thatch jumped at the loud curse.

“What?! What happened?” Thatch asked, hurrying down the hallway to find Nikia scowling into a room with a ‘occupied’ plaque on it. Ducking his head he found a spacious room with a tile floor built around a natural hot spring. A glass door lead to a sauna on the side. There was a partially opened door at the very back, reinforced but useless as it was clearly left open. Nikia huffed.

“Fuckin’ cheater. Well, I hope he’s happy with himself. What a mess.” Nikia grabbed a small broom and forced the pile of snow back outside before closing the door and forcing the wooden barricade into a locked position. “For that, he can walk around to the front like a proper, responsible adult.”

Nikia rolled her eyes and moved the plaque back into the ‘open’ spot. Thatch couldn’t help but click his tongue.

“He didn’t even take his coat.” Nikia paused and looked at him with a frown.

“Then he’s also stupid.” Nikia dismissed, “He’ll probably come running back when he can’t move his fingers.”

Nikia counted the men still present with a scowl and shook her head, sneezing briefly as Thatch gently braced her. Her wings puffing up with each violent motion, much to his amusement.

“Well, someone got a head start.” Thatch explained when Teach gave him a curious look, handing a warm mug to Nikia to help warm up. She sniffed gratefully and took a sip.

“Yeah. Idiot. Anyway! Onto the safety rules! When you start to lose feeling in your fingers or toes, come back here. If it starts snowing steadily, come back here. If you hear an announcement to return, come back here. Hypothermia is a bitch and snow can quickly pile up and obscure your path back. The boys higher up the mountain are good at predicting the next snowstorm too, and the odds for one tonight is high. So absolutely do not stay out when the sun goes down.” Nikia declared. “The intention of this hunt is for some fun. If you think you or someone else is getting too cold, come back here to warm up. The fruit isn’t going anywhere and if you stay out too long, neither will you. I’ll be here keeping an eye out for the weather and starting dinner. Remember, I only had an hour, so any further out than half a mile and you’ve gone too far. I didn’t go to a hot spring. It’s not at anyone else’s house. It isn’t in a cave or in town. That’s as much as you’re getting out of me… go.” Nikia grinned, waving to the front door.

The men scrambled off their seats, abandoning their cups as they shoved on their boots and jacket before racing out of the cabin. Teach was among them but was meticulous in ensuring Thatch was handed back his cup and that his clothes were properly put back on. Within a minute, Nikia and Thatch were the only ones left.

Nikia gave Thatch a questioning glance but he merely smiled and took his time finishing his hot chocolate. He wasn’t in any rush.

When he finished his drink, he made sure to put his gear back on securely, grabbing a bag for any fruit he finds to experiment with. Nikia was a bit flush and still cold but otherwise quite industrious in starting a base for stew.

“Alright, I’m headed out… hey, is the fruit still in the bag?” Thatch asked, looking back at Nikia from the doorway. She snorted.

“Yeah. Had to or I’d risk an animal eating it by mistake. It’s specially scented so any wildlife thinks it smells foul on top of being water proof. We use them to store medical supplies at way points in case of emergencies.” Nikia explained before pausing and smirking at him with narrowed eyes. “Now go on! No more sly tricks from you!” She huffed.

Thatch couldn’t help but laugh as he left.

Clearly, she hadn’t meant to reveal that, even if it was obvious she’d have to keep the fruit in the bag.

Over the course of a few hours, Thatch ran by several of the group as he pilfered wild fruit and berries. Even found Teach a time or two scowling at bushes and trees. If Thatch had to assume how the fruit would be hidden, it would likely be hanging from a tree branch somewhere.

When the sun started to go down, Thatch made sure to find Teach and drag him back to the cabin alongside four others. The sailors were visibly shivering after spending so long in the cold, their jackets not quite up to par with the ones sold on the island.

The cabin smelled divine. Stew and fresh bread spread through the area alongside the warm fireplace. There was a note on the counter explaining that she didn’t feel well and to help themselves.

No one else came in as night fell. Not the man that left out of the sauna and not the missing sailor. When it started to get too dark, one of the men nervously got up and explained that he was going to try looking for his friends while Teach was hogging the hot spring.

He didn’t come back either.

Grimacing, Thatch busied himself with dishes and tried to find where Nikia was. Her bedroom had to be somewhere, but aside from the occupied hot spring, all the rooms were empty. There was a cold breeze across his bare ankles as Teach came back to join them, Thatch sparing a glance at the high ceiling to roll his eyes at the utter satisfaction of Teach’s face. Then he noticed the loft above them.

“Oh!” Thatch looked to the side and noticed the ladder installed next to the coat rack that he’d missed. Thatch waved Teach away with a blush, a little embarrassed he didn’t realize there was a loft above them the whole time. “I’m coming up!” Thatch called out, climbing the ladder in hopes of checking on their host.

Maybe she was outside a bit too long?

The loft was pretty large, taking up half of the room where a mound of pillows and blankets rested. There was also a window on the far side, large enough to exit through if the cabin was buried in snow. Perhaps even for small deliveries from news coo? But the important part was the glasses set on a self with a avian shaped helmet next to the blankets.

The loft had enough space for Thatch to stand as he checked on Nikia. Buried under the blankets as she was, he still managed to hold the back of his head to her forehead. As he suspected. A fever. Gently, he shook her awake. Blearily and with a noise of complaint she scowled blindly at him.

“W’at?” She mumbled. Thatch gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry to wake you up, sweetie. Did you eat anything? I can make some light soup.” Thatch offered before adding on, “No one found the fruit yet by the way. Three men are missing though…” Thatch gave a worried frown.

“Mm… I ate. Thank you, though. Give me a minute and I’ll call the others and put a look out alert.” Nikia huffed, wings stretching out as she sat up. Behind her was a den den mushi, nestled in a heated terrarium. “Up ‘n at em, Sheldon. Just for a bit I promise.” Nikia tapped the snail gently. As sleepy as his owner, the snail scowled as it woke up long enough for Nikia to report the missing men.

“—Alright, we’ll make note of that. The storm is well under way though, so there won’t be many people able to search. It’s going to get nasty out there. Stay safe!” Nikia sniffed.

“You too.” Nikia glanced at Thatch, retrieving her glasses with a scowl, “Head back down, would you?” Nikia asked and Thatch obliged, exiting her space carefully.

To his surprise, she was only wearing a tank top and sweatpants, thick socks the only real concession to the cold as she padded around the room. It was warm enough in the cabin but still… maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise she was sick. Thatch resisted the urge to smack one of the sailors as they gawked at her cleavage.

This? This was why it was a good idea him and Teach came up here. Rude ass men.

Actually, to his surprise, there was now only two other men besides Teach and himself.

“Did another one of you go outside?!” Thatch asked, shocked at the reckless behavior as he checked the bathroom and hot spring area. The back door was closed but unlocked. The two men grimaced sheepishly. Teach gave a dramatic sigh and stood up.

“I’ll go look for the idiot. He couldn’t have gotten far, zehaha!”

“Don’t stay out too long or go far! The wind’s picking up something fierce.” Nikia called out as Teach left. As she said, the snow and wind were falling harder with every passing minute.

Thatch could hear Teach call outside for several minutes around the cabin. Pausing for a few moments before hollering louder just in case. When he came back in, he was covered in enough snow to turn his hair as white as Pop’s moustache and shivering with a scowl.

“Not a damn sight of the fool!” Teach reported.

Nikia sighed and shook her head, wings puffing out.

“Alright, no one else leaves this cabin until the storm breaks. I’ll keep an eye out just in case.” Nikia threw on her jacket and dragged in several more bundles of wood that Thatch quickly helped her with to lessen the amount of frigid winds she had to put up with. “It’s going to be a cold bitch tonight. Better bundle up too.”

They all curled up in the thick blankets as Nikia lit a candle in the window and read to herself on the window seat. After an hour and a complete whiteout surrounded the cabin, she sniffled and fixed up a special hot chocolate to help everyone sleep.

When Thatch woke up, the fire was roaring still to combat the cold.

And another man was missing.

Predictably by now, the back door was unlocked again. Thatch figured there was a break in the storm and the sailor went out to look, taking his boots and jacket with him.

Thatch shook his head and kept an eye on Nikia, hoping she didn’t blame herself for the reckless behavior of the rapidly dwindling group. Surprisingly, she was in the same mood as the day before. A bit distant but polite and cheerful.

She did sigh though as she repeated the safety warning and allow them to leave the cabin. This time, there was snow up to their knees. The storm having dropped several inches overnight.

It was, much to Thatch’s horror, only an hour after they were let loose that Thatch realized something was horribly wrong.

Picking more berries, Frostburn this time, Thatch marveled at the pristine white among black leaves speckled blue. And then saw one with a dark brown coating. Several, actually. Brushing them firmly with his gloved hand revealed it to be ice. Glancing around the suspect berries, Thatch realized there were several patches of coloration on the snow-covered bush. His stomach dropped as his gaze traveled up the tree the bush was under, following dark smears of frozen blood.

It was one of the sailors from the day before, chest pierced with a broken branch about twelve feet above him. Eyes fixed in shock at the sky, likely frozen quickly after dying.

Thatch knew damn well there wasn’t any animal on this island capable of doing this. He’d specifically asked after local hazards. There were bears and wolves for sure, on top of the dangerous climate, but this? This was something else.

“Shit!” Thatch cursed, turning around and running back to the cabin to report the murder. Snow began to fall slowly, then in thick waves as he made his way to the porch, Teach scowling at the woods.

“Oh! Hey, Thatch! Any luck—what’s wrong?” Teach stopped and frowned in concern. Thatch dragged him inside and closed the door. One last sailor was huddled before the fire.

“There’s been a murder.” Thatch whispered before making his way to Nikia, who was busy making lunch in the kitchen. “Is your snail upstairs still? Who do I call to report a murder?” Thatch asked softly, not wanting to spook the surviving sailor.

In light of the new discovery, the disappearance of the other sailors was… suspect.

Nikia froze, eyes wide in surprise.

“Oh shit… yeah, it is. Here, take over while I call it in. W-Where did you find him? Who did you find?” Nikia asked.

“One of the sailors from yesterday. Stuck on a tree branch through his chest.” Nikia grimaced.

“Yeah, I’ll let them know we need a cleanup. Preferably before a predator finds him and gets a taste for people.” Nikia sighed, scurrying up the ladder.

“H-He’s dead? A-Am I the only one left?!” The sailor leapt up and swore, grabbing his things. “Screw this shit—I’m out! No one said anything about this when I signed on! Just about making good money on—fuck!” Before anyone could stop him, he was running outside and into the growing storm.

“For fuck’s sake! I’ll go get him!” Nikia called out, leaping from her loft and efficiently suiting up in seconds as she headed out the door. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

Thatch wanted to follow but considering her profession, Nikia was a better bet to tracking down the panicked sailor. Considering the worsening weather, the murder isn’t likely to be outside any longer either. There really wasn’t anything around for a good distance to provide shelter, and they’d had to have left fast to not die or be found already. And if they were responsible for the last sailor disappearing, they’d have left by now to prevent getting caught in the growing storm. Instead, he finished the food prep. Nikia returning just as the food was done shaking violently and panting.

“Are you alright?!” Nikia nodded.

“Yeah, just fucking cold. Idiot went running back to town. Might even make it if he slides, but there’s no way I’m catching up to him now.” Nikia swore. “I’m going to call it in so they expect him and warm up in front of the fire… why don’t you enjoy the hot spring? We’re not going to be leaving for at least another day at this rate. Just don’t go outside.”

Thatch was a bit reluctant to leave in light of the murder but Teach grinned at him and winked.

“I’ll keep an eye out, commander! Zehahaha!” Thatch relaxed at that. While not particularly motivated, Teach was no slouch.

And he had been interested in trying the hot spring while he was here. Washing up proved to be an almost religious experience after the last two days spending hours in the snow. The last of the chill dissipating as he sank into the hot spring. The large basin of water had been carved to provide a natural seating around it while remaining deep enough to submerge in.

Thatch almost screamed when something soft brushed his foot. The room was fairly well lit, but the steam gathered along the surface of the water obscured his vision. Even still, Thatch could distinctly see a bright yellow bag in the water. Snorting, Thatch dived in and grabbed it, lifting it above the water to confirm his suspicion.

It was the devil fruit bag. To think they were traipsing about the winter landscape when the prize was literally in reach the whole time.

Well, it seems as though he won. A cold breeze swept through the room.

“Zehehehe… I wondered where she hid it!” Teach laughed behind him. Thatch, a little shocked, turned around and looked. Teach stood in the doorway to the outside with a knife in hand, quietly walking further into the room to close the door behind him. “No need to startle our host! Shame you had to be surprised by the murderer that took out all those sailors. This will be a bitch to clean I’m sure.” Teach mused as Thatch moved to the back of the hot spring. Naked as the day he was born, Thatch had nothing to defend himself with.

If he called out, he risked Nikia getting murdered as well.

“How will you explain your absence?” Thatch asked, hoping to buy time to think of something. Teach shrugged.

“She went back up to her loft to nap. As far as she knows, I’m still eating.” Teach bragged.

“Wow… you’re really going to kill your brother like this, Teach? Over a fruit? I’m literally stark naked here!” Thatch sputtered. Teach frowned.

“Yeah… now that you say that, it seems a shame to kill you like this. You could at least wear some pants… Tell ya what, I’ll throw something on you before your seen. For old times sake!” Teach threw back his head and laughed, a flurry of snowflakes bursting behind him as something slammed into his body, sending him flying into a wall.

Teach was knocked out cold, the door slamming shut with a soft huff.

“Sorry about that. Noticed he left and got nosy. Want me to tie him up? He’ll be out for at least a few minutes.” Nikia offered, eyes fixed away from Thatch’s shocked expression.

“Y-Yeah… holy shit.” Thatch muttered, covering himself a bit so Nikia could work in peace.

As Nikia predicted, it was another day before they could leave, Teach spitting mad as he wriggled in his bonds. Thatch felt conflicted about the recent events and decided to turn his attention to the murders.

“I’m sorry Teach ruined the event like this. I… I can’t believe he killed them.” Thatch murmured. Nikia patted his shoulder with a soft smile.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s over now and that’s all that matters. What’ll happen to him?” She asked.

“Well, trying to murder me alone is enough for an execution. Pops doesn’t mess around with betrayal like that. Taking out the other sailors is icing on the top. At least one got away though.” Thatch sighed. Nikia gave an awkward smile and shook her head.

“All this over a fruit… what are you going to do with it?” Nikia asked. Thatch checked over Teach’s bonds and shrugged.

“Maybe eat it? After I figure out what it is of course. Can’t risk messing with my career for a shitty fruit. You only get one shot after all.” Thatch frowned and hugged Nikia close, marveling at the soft embrace of feathery wings. After a long moment, he pulled away. “But maybe next time be more careful about setting up events like this on your own, yeah? Thank you for having us, Nikia.”

Nikia grinned.

“Anytime!”

The trek back to the town was a bit long and awkward, Teach being thoroughly uncooperative about the affair. But between Nikia and Thatch, there was nothing he could do but squirm and think about his impending death. Thatch hadn’t been kidding when he said Pops wouldn’t take it well. Naturally, the locals had questions when they saw him.

“Uhm… what are you doing?” A man asked with a raised brow when they finally arrived at the town.

“Dragging a traitor. He took out all but one of the sailors we went up the mountain with Nikia. For the devil fruit hunt?” Thatch explained awkwardly. The man frowned.

“Are you sure?” He asked before waving his hand, “I mean, it’s just that I heard about that and… none of the sailors made it here. Is he traveling with you?”

Thatch paused.

He was so sure the murder had to have ran off before the first storm came in but… a man did disappear at night. Likely froze to death really. And he knows for a fact that Nikia said the last one would make it to the town before the storm. It was much faster traveling downhill than up after all.

“No… No he’s not.” Thatch explained, looking back up the mountain.

“Ah. Well, I suppose that’s for the best. They’d been… a bit too interested in our people you know. We usually only see that with undercover slave traders.” The man mumbled before walking away.

Thatch’s head spun.

Teach literally couldn’t have killed the last man… and actually, he couldn’t have killed the man in the tree either. How would he have put the body up there? How would he have killed the men on the first day as he looked for the devil fruit? Or the one that left in the middle of the night?

Thatch looked at Teach with growing horror.

“You didn’t kill any of them, did you?” Thatch asked. Teach paused his struggling to shake his head. He didn’t necessarily believe him of course but… “Then who did?”

Was it possible anyone could have camped around the cabin in that time? Thatch explored the area pretty thoroughly. There really wasn’t anywhere to find shelter in a whiteout. It couldn’t have been the sailors either. At least not all of the kills. And the last one definitely didn’t realize there was any murders happening before he left. Teach was the only one it could be, the only one that Thatch didn’t see long enough to get rid of most of them…

Teach and Nikia.

Thatch didn’t usually sleep that deeply either, how did he miss someone leaving at night? Unless Nikia drugged their drinks save one.

That still didn’t explain the tree… except it really did.

If Nikia could fly with her massive wings.

Thatch realized it was a set up. The whole time it was a set up.

The man just now… he mentioned under cover slavers. Thatch knew some islands suffered from groups of slavers secretly taking people, even this close to Pop’s territory. And no one came up to the cabin as they disappeared either. Nikia went to report a clean up but Thatch only saw one conversation on the den den mushi. Most damning of all, no one was surprised it was just Teach and Thatch returning.

Just that Teach was tied up.

Shockingly, it seems as though Nikia wasn’t in any real danger at all. And neither were they.

Just the undercover slavers the locals picked up on… Thatch wondered if the six that stayed on the Summer Isle were still around. Or if they also suddenly disappeared.

#spooktober #one piece #thatch one piece #one piece oc #what if I told you this is actually how they deal with this problem?#my best attempt at a murder mystery #sfw #light violence #offscreen murder

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weepingfireflies · 1 year

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"Where did you first hear about the word "aromantic"?

I went into the forest and lay on the ground until it got dark. The tree goblins slowly approached my unbreathing body. They watched me until a young one got the courage to throw a rock at me. Blood trickled down my face and into my mouth, and the Earth shook. My breath started. My eyes glowed. I was...aro.

#aromantic #aro #shitpost #blood mention #light violence #violence #funny #my posts

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signs-of-spring · 2 years

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memories of an old friend - whumptober day 21

prompt ; "you're safe now" fandom ; life series / hermitcraft rating ; teen warnings ; light violence summary ;

The last thing Martyn remembers is blood.

They had been in the midst of battle defending Dogwarts when it happened, when Scar ran him through with his blade. He didn't even have a chance to react to the blinding pain rippling through his body before he disappeared in a flash of white and his consciousness faded away.

After that? It's all a blur.

That is, until he wakes up in the middle of what looks to be some sort of shopping center.

---

or; martyn finds himself on the hermitcraft server after the events of third life and prepares himself for a new, more peaceful life. fate has other plans. fulfilling the prompt "you're safe now" for day 21 of whumptober 2022! link ; https://archiveofourown.org/works/42536319/chapters/106840713 extra ; woodland posting two days in a row? more likely than you think!

#you're safe now #whumptober2022 #no.21 #hermitcraft #life series #fic #light violence #trafficblr #hermitblr

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latenightdaydreams · 28 days

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I can't stop thinking about Mafia Konig who never let his wife wear bras because once she complained about how uncomfortable her bra is. And he just loves to circle his finger on her nips through the fabric whenever they have meetings with allies, in front of everyone! But if any guys dare to make dirty jokes about her body (how plump her ass is, how round her breasts are, etc) he will shoot that mfker in the middle of his eyebrows in a heartbeat. That's so disrespectful respectfully 😩😍😍 thank you for accepting a lot of my previous requests, love youuuuu🎀🎀🎀

Ofc!!! 🩷🩷 I love breast man König

Mafia!König x Braless!Wife (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw fem/afab, blood, gun violence, groping

1.0k word count

König has always loved the fact that you are a curvy woman. When he first saw you, you were dating one of his associates. He charmed you with his Austrian accent and icy blue eyes. Soon he had you coming to his office late at night, buying you expensive gifts, and bringing you home. One day, your ex showed up at a meeting with his boss, König, to just see you sitting on his lap. Your breasts were so large and filled his hands, and he knew you were his. Your body is just perfect for him. He can never keep his hands off of you; no matter what. That’s why he married you after only six months.

Your breasts are so large, bras are very uncomfortable. The underwire is always digging into you, the straps never feeling right on your shoulders. Sports bras never fitting right, always too tight. That’s when you approached König about the idea of giving up bras all together.

Obviously, he agreed quickly. Bras were only another barrier in between him and those bouncy, perfect pair of tits. König bought you light colored or sheer fabric tops and dresses. Your breasts are marvelous and deserve to be shown off.

König, seats you on his lap, you’re wearing a cream-colored shirt that clings to the curve of your breast naturally sitting on your chest. One of his hands is busy sifting through papers. The other squeezes your breast. Fingers slowly rubbing circles around your hardened nipple. You squirm over his erection as you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“Sit still, Liebling.” König whispers into your ear, his warm lips kiss your neck tenderly before looking away.

The table you’re sitting at has seven men seated, associates of König. They all look at your breast, watching as König’s finger begins to pinch and tug at your nipple that is visible through your shirt. They all share glances with one another; eyebrows raised with cheeky smirks across their lips. Some men had to adjust themselves as they watched König’s display of affection.

One man clears his throat. König’s eyes shoot in his direction. His gaze bore into the man waiting for him to speak.

“-Uh, sir, we have a shipment coming in from Hungary on Wednesday.” His eyes glued to your breasts as he speaks makes him forget his train of thought. “There are no set plans on who will be at pick up.”

“Mein Gott, your breasts are perfect.” König ignores the man to focus on you.

The man looks around at everyone’s eyes glued to you. “Sir?”

“You. Take Johan as well.” König’s attention shifts from you to the men. He notices their lustful gaze.

An awkward silence falls across the room as König pulls your shirt from the back as he looks over your shoulder at your breast. He perfectly sees the texture and color of your areolas and nipples. Perfection.

He continues to hold the back of your shirt with one hand. The other comes around and squeezes your breast. Cupping them in his hands before running them over your nipples, making you moan quietly. You turn your head to him and lift his hood slightly to kiss the pale skin of his neck. His cock is painfully hard. He cannot wait until this meeting is over so he can fuck these beautiful fucking breasts.

“Is that all we had to discuss?” König asks in a snappy voice.

“I can’t blame the guy; I’d want to hurry this up too.” One associate whispers to the one sitting next to him.

König hears him and smiles. His smile quickly disappears once he hears what the other man’s response was.

“I’d love to squeeze those massive breasts.” He lets out a low whisper before they laugh together.

König’s eyes fall on him, the both of them, and just glares. They don’t notice his gaze just yet, so they continue.

“Yeah, well, she was Christoph’s before, so we might get our turn.” They chuckle between them.

“Excuse me, my love.” König gently takes you off of his lap.

You stand and look up at König. His large hands come down and caress your face gently. “Take a seat Maus.”

König slowly walks past you around the table, his footsteps loud as he walks. He stops right behind the two men that were talking about you. Everyone at the table had eyes on the two men. Their fear was palpable.

König leans down slightly before whispering, “You know, this table isn’t big at all. And my hearing is wonderful.”

“Sir, I was just-”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before König quickly withdrew his gun and shot the man in between his eyes. His body lingered upright for a moment as everyone stared with wide eyes. Finally, the body fell forward onto the desk, causing a loud thump.

There was shock written all over the face of the man, sides of him that got all the blood splatter. König then turned the gun to the man that said he might have a turn with you in the future. His icy blue eyes bore into the man’s soul, almost.

Shaking, the man got out a short sentence. “I- I didn’t mean it…She’s your wife…”

“She is.” König nods and looks over at you sitting in his seat.

Your nipples are still hard and your breast jiggle lightly as you breathe rapidly from everything that just happened. My god you’re so perfect.

Without looking back at the man, König shoots him too. He puts his gun back into his holster and looks around the room.

“Anyone else have anything to say?”

A unanimous “no sir” breaks out across the remaining five men. All of them are too scared to look at König or me, so they keep their gaze down at the wooden table. König scans the table and looks at how they cower in fear.

“Gut.” König begins to walk back over to you. “Now, where was I?”

#tw: gun violence #tw: blood #konig #konig x reader #konig cod #könig #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #cod smut #konig x reader smut #könig x reader smut #light smut #x reader #konig x you #könig x y/n

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ruija · 2 months

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youtube

CONTENT WARNING FLASHING LIGHTS, blood, violence, disaster twins having a bad time.

So, about a month ago I picked up @remedyturtles 's fic Firefight and binge read it late into the night. The next day while listening to my playlist, I love you but I'm Lost by Tears for Fears came on and it just immediately clicked.

Despite feeling inspired, I felt very daunted by the idea of making a whole animatic. Nevertheless, I decided to try how far I'd get, and soon I just became very determined to make a cool thing I could show to people. It served as a great practice for animation stuff too.

Thank you for writing beautiful stories, Rem. I hope you and your readers enjoy my rendition ✨

#rottmnt #tmnt #leonardo #donatello #animatic #animation #firefight #remedyturtles #flashing lights #blood #violence #kraang #rottmnt movie #fan animatic #Youtube

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

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(TW POLICE VIOLENCE)

France has been feeling like a police state this week, there were 5000 cops deployed in Paris yesterday (watch this video and tell me this is a normal amount of cops and they're behaving normally) and they keep acting like they have total immunity*, to beat up protesters, to arrest protesters, or just random people walking in the vicinity of a protest. My 70+-year-old dad tried to go to a peaceful protest and had to abandon the idea because of all the tear gas being used by police.

*Which they do—as Le Monde pointed out, the cops who are violent risk nothing because they can't be identified because almost none of them wear their identification number even though it's supposed to be mandatory. They're not being penalised for not wearing them, so why should they?

If you can stomach it, please have a look at the photos and videos on this Twitter account documenting French police brutality against protesters—as I write this, the most recent tweet is about a journalist who was beaten up by a BRAV-M cop* using his steel baton; he had his head cracked open and his hand broken.

(* BRAV-M is a motorised repression corps—cops on bikes—a unit that was dissolved in 1986 after some of them beat a student to death, who wasn't even attending a protest but walking near one. Macron changed the unit's name, from Voltigeurs to BRAV-M, and reestablished it to suppress the Yellow Vests protests. This week, a BRAV-M cop deliberately drove over a 19-year-old's leg at a protest after chasing him on his bike. The victim said he heard a cop say to others "Smash him." Another BRAV-M punched a protester unconscious on March 20. And today Le Monde published an article about BRAV-M cops being recorded bragging about "breaking elbows and faces.")

In Paris last week the CRS arrested a 14-year-old kid because they took him for a dangerous black bloc protester I guess?? A child spent a night in police custody without knowing why. They've also arrested several 15 / 16 year-olds. Let's teach the youth what happens when you exercise your right to protest!

On March 16th in Paris, within one evening, they arrested 292 people, and 283 were released without charges, which means they're mass-arresting people for peaceful protests as a strategy of intimidation. The student I mentioned in my post the other day, who spent 48 hours in custody and was eventually charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken and filed, asked the cops why they were arresting him + 4 other people who were walking down the same street and they said "Because you look like fucking leftists."

The government tells us "We fully support our brave police forces" when the cops are arresting people for "looking like leftists." How are we still a democracy? The guy also mentioned that during the time he spent at the police station, the police was mostly arresting Maghrebis, though they made an exception for him, a Black guy. There are videos from the past week of cops beating up women, tear gassing protesters in the face from 20cm away, kicking protesters in the face when they're already on the ground, crushing their heads under their boot, brutalising a homeless man and old ladies, tear gassing crowds with young children in them. I'm having trouble finding links to these specific incidents I remember because there are so many videos circulating.

Look at this video, they're violently striking the back of people's heads with steel batons even when the protesters are already going in the direction they're told to. The little old lady shoved around and trying to protect her head from the strikes is breaking my heart.

Surely at the point when enforcers of state authority are arresting middle schoolers, beating up citizens for exercising their rights and gassing and pepper spraying elderly people, children and babies in strollers, the government might want to make some sort of statement condemning this state of affairs, but instead they have been telling us they're proud of & grateful for their police forces, which of course angers people and makes protests more violent. The Minister of the Interior, who supervises the police, praises them wholeheartedly and excuses all instances of deliberate brutality as 'isolated incidents' due to 'tiredness'.

Here's a thread in English describing a protester's experience—"Yesterday (March 23) the level of arbitrary police violence clearly leveled up. I was tear gassed three times without being able to move in a very dense crowd; policemen took advantage that people were unable to move more than 20cm to pounce on us and bludgeon us in a totally arbitrary manner." (you can see an example of this behaviour in this video from a different protest)

Yesterday, after a day of nationwide protests that brought a fresh new wave of video evidence of cops beating up protesters and making reckless use of tear gas—at the end of a day when a special ed teacher at a protest got her thumb torn off by a tear gas grenade—this is what the French Prime Minister said:

They're not even trying to play it off like "both sides made mistakes" they're telling us they condone everything the police is doing, that this is what they're deploying them for:

(screencap from this video)

(this is from this video, in which you can hear a woman screaming "Stop it! You're strangling him! You have no right! I'm filming you!" The cops don't seem to care about being filmed. They're beating up citizens with the government's full blessing after all.)

Macron's government is trying to intimidate people into giving up their right to protest, by deploying cops in huge numbers and publicly voicing complete support for their behaviour, by allowing them to beat and arrest hundreds of people and to use tear gas indiscriminately. Tear gas has been completely normalised as a means of state violence, it's very practical that it doesn't leave traces of blood or broken bones I guess, but it's still violence, it burns, it's a chemical whose effects on people's health we don't know a lot about.

^ Paris (from this vid; caption: "one tear gas grenade after the other")

Macron condescendingly told us there's no "magic money" which is why the pension reform is needed, but he did find the money to stockpile these apparently unlimited amounts of tear gas grenades to suppress protests against his reform to make poor people work longer.

^ Nantes (screencap from a vid in which the cops throw three or four grenades at once and you can hear people say "oh come on, seriously? this is crazy. Why? go fuck yourselves" in a tired tone)

We've also found out yesterday that three Corsican MPs were pressured not to support the Assembly's no-confidence vote against the government—by being told if they didn't vote it, a teaching hospital would be built in Corsica.

The island of Corsica is the only region of France that doesn't have a teaching hospital; due to lack of medical resources Corsicans often have to travel to mainland France for healthcare. Just last month the Minister of Health said sorry, still no teaching hospital for Corsica, it's just not possible right now. Then last week some "magic money" was apparently found to build it but only if the Corsican MPs didn't support the no-confidence vote. I know this kind of thing isn't exactly unique in politics but Macron has been slashing hospital budgets to the point that 20% of French hospital beds are closed due to lack of staff, and he used the health of 340,000 French citizens as a bribe to save his ass. The three Corsican MPs ended up voting in favour of the no-confidence vote despite of that, as it was what their constituents wanted (honour to them). Macron's government survived the no-confidence vote by only 9 votes.

Whatever legitimacy Macron has as a President right now is being clung to by MP corruption and police repression. How do we move forwards knowing that, I don't know. How does he have legitimacy to govern on any issues after the way he handled this reform and the following protests? His police forces are drowning city centres in tear gas, a chemical whose effect on birds and other fauna is not known, and we're supposed to listen to him talk about the environment? They're wasting thousands of litres of water using water cannons to disperse protesters, and we're supposed to listen to him talk about low groundwater levels and how we need to save water? I was going to say, what about his legitimacy abroad but other Western governments don't seem too bothered so far by his handling of the protests—though I'm grateful that Amnesty International did condemn it, and that a Belgian deputy made a speech in Parliament this week asking his government to condemn Macron's use of violent police repression.

[Wait, I just saw that as I was writing this post, the Council of Europe condemned the "excessive use of force" in France. Saying that 'sporadic acts of violence' of some protesters can't 'justify the excessive use of force by agents of the State' or 'deprive peaceful protesters of their right to freedom of assembly'. This is the opposite framing as the one our government is standing by—sporadic acts of violence by cops that are either justified or excusable—it's refreshing.]

Between that and Charles III cancelling his visit (and lots of tourists cancelling trips to Paris which is bound to piss off the tourism industry) and our own media waking up and starting to talk about the government's brutality, I hope Macron starts being held accountable. He has been fanning the flames of this crisis at every turn, by telling us that the crowds protesting in the street have 'no legitimacy', by sending cops to break strikes even though striking is a Constitutional right (but the only part of the Constitution he cares about is the one that starts with 49.3), by condemning the protesters when asked to condemn police violence—saying "When [protesters] use violence, unregulated, absolute, we're no longer in a Republic." I agree, but he's describing himself.

When you resort to using article 49.3 to bypass the National Assembly for the 11th time this term to impose a reform that 70% of the country is against (and 93% of working people) that will force the poorer classes of the population to work longer, and your only response to people's distress at being told to work until they die is to force them to accept it by allowing your police forces to beat up protesters, to arrest them and to gas them, you have failed as a democratic leader.

The next organised protest and strike is next Tuesday (if you want to give something to the strike solidarity fund, here it is); in the meantime spontaneous protests are still erupting pretty much every day and cops are getting burnt out (good! There are fun videos from yesterday's protests of cops accidentally tear gassing one another, or a police car accidentally running into another as people laugh and clap.) And yes some protesters are getting more extreme and destructive, but Macron is the one choosing to stand by his reform at all costs and let this country burn. And when I look at what we're being expected to tolerate and to normalise, I'm kind of proud that French people's gut reaction was "burn it all."

Some popular Twitter hashtags for the protests:

#ToutCramer - Burn everything #CensurePopulaire - People's no-confidence vote #MacronDémission - Macron resign #OnLâcheRien - We won't cede an inch.

#frpol #i know french people who aren't following this closely aren't aware of how bad things got #as i said our media is finally commenting on CRS and BRAV-M behaviour but seeing the videos #for the protests is kind of necessary i feel to see how omnipotent the police feel thanks to macron #his ''fuck you i've already passed the reform idgaf about your protests'' attitude in the face of all this is unforgiveable #even if he somehow sees the light it won't erase all the violence and destruction that he caused #and that he doesn't care about #not to mention the damage done to democracy

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