#I don’t remember any of these fuckers names except ruby

[jokerfan99]

Slideshows (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

Inside the Blue base, Mess Hall

Gary: It wasn't my fault. I only help, Wyoming kidnapped the alien. Tucker: Junior! His name is Junior, asshole! Church: Not your fault, huh? What about that time when you tried to blow me into pieces, you lying jackass! Gary: Knock knock. Caboose: Who's there? Gary: You are all dirty dirty Shisnos. Ha Ha Ha. Caboose: You're mean!

The atmosphere in the mess hall is filled with insults and anger, both from the Blues and Gary. They traded words like ' Dirty Shisno' and 'Backstabbbing AI' at one another. Church said this is supposed to be an interrogation but look at the results on the reunion of two enemies. Weiss and Blake can see the whole situation and think that: "Yep they know each other." They turned away and continued to where their conversation had left off.

Blake: So, Ruby and Yang, are here in this canyon? Weiss: Yes. Blake: And they're still not happy to see you. Weiss: Sigh. Yes and... Blake: Wait don't tell me. They attacked when they saw you. Weiss: Well, Ruby didn't attack me and I was the first to punched her. But Yang, she almost tried to tear my head off if it wasn't for, Caboose! None of this wouldn't have happened, we would... Blake: Weiss, you don't have to remind me about it. Look you can't just keep hating each other forever. The past is the past. How about just give yourselves a chance to talk with each other and settle aside your differences. Weiss: Except that won't work like how you did with, Sun. The last time we met was when Ruby tried to hit me with a drip stand. Anyways, why are you doing here exactly? Another Xenotarian aid assignment? Blake: Before that, yeah. The ship I was in was flying was running out so I had to stop by here to fuel up. I found a base but the inhabitants there are... Weiss: Let me guess, they're all dead. Well we're in a war, after all. What did you expect? Blake: War? Weiss: Oh right, you may not have heard about this. We're currently at war with the Red army. Not sure why they're called that but I've been told they're a bunch of arrogant Insurgents that needed some discipline. Atlas sent me to aid the Blue Army as a support. Blake: And the Blue army are? Weiss: They're an independent military force from a neighboring colony. According to Atlas intelligence, they got a huge disagreement with the Reds to decide which property they own. Blake: That seems understandable. But I taught you can't enter the Atlesian Army after you... Weiss:... Blake: Sorry to bring that up. Weiss: None taken. Nah I still couldn't. But out of the blue, they decided to give me another chance by performing an assignment. If I transfer myself to another army, live through it and won the war, I can finally get into the Atlesian army like I wanted to! Plain and simple. Blake: Really? Wow, that's something I've never heard, Atlas would do. It's a very good second chance for you. Though I've never of any war in this sector. Weiss: Hmm, maybe the White Paw forgot to update about it. Church: Ahem!

Blake and Weiss turned to Church.

Church: Will you two shut up? We're interrogating here. Blake: Is he always like that? Weiss: Oh don't mind him. He's always a jerk. He's name Church. "Leader" of the Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. If you ask me, he's the most incompetent team leader in this base with a hair trigger temper. Still waiting for Command to accept my request to becoming leader. The dark blue one's, Caboose or Michael if the name's too weird for you. He's lacking some brain cells. Probably from a bullet to the head, but he's alright when he gets the job done. The bright yellow is Kaikaina. Now keep your distance from her, she's a disgrace to women everywhere. The only thing she talks about is having sex. But not as worst as the aqua guy named... Tucker: 'Sup. Weiss: Sigh, Tucker.

Tucker approached the two, with his eyes fixated to Blake since the time she arrived here. She looks like the type whom he can hooked up her with her easily. He delivers his signature one-liner.

Tucker: Hey, baby. Never met one with cat-ears before. Maybe you can hear the cry of nature through them asking you to... Blake: I'm married and have two children back at home, thank you very much. Tucker: Fuck... do you still wanna hang out? Church: Alright, Gary, enough with the insults. Let's cut to the chase. First off, how did you survive the blast and more importantly, where's Tex? Gary: I would  tell you, once Caboose stops attempting to punch me. Caboose: Take that! And that! And that!

Caboose's fists passed through, Gary's holographic body to no effect at all.

Church: Stop it, dumbass. Caboose: Okay. Church: Now will you explain? Starting from the time when Andy blew up. Gary: As you wish. Luckily I've prepared a small presentation designed to easily explain my creators to what had transpired from the base I was in. Caboose: Oh give me three minutes, I'll get the popcorn. Kaikaina: Wait, we have popcorn? Tucker: Of course we do. It's popcorn, not a strip club. Kaikaina: Sigh. Someday.

Three minutes later and Caboose returns with the bowl of popcorn.

Blake: I only got here and met these people an hour ago, and I don't understand what's going on. Weiss: Me too. Hey Church.  Would you mind telling us the whole story here? Church: It worked with a guy named, Wyoming and tried to kidnapped Junior. That's all. Weiss: Gee, you're helpful. Caboose: Don't worry, I'll tell you the story. Weiss: Thank you, Caboose. Gary: As you all already know, I am the one who tricked you all into thinking that I'm a computer intelligence made a dead alien race which never existed and in reality worked with Wyoming to use the alien to manipulate his race as a savior and win the war. Church: Duh, who else doesn't remember that? Blake: Uhm... Weiss: Ahem. Church: Oh except for these two.

Gary creates a holographic screen big enough for the Blues to see. There's a title at the left upper corner which reads: "My Story: A PowerPoint Journey". The first slide he showed is a crudely drawn scene as if it was made by a three year old kid in his first attempt on Microsoft Paint. This made some of the Blues to laugh, Caboose makes better art than this! It depicts what looks like the pelican flying toward a base with an unknown trifoil logo on it. The Blues have never seen it, but Blake has. It was the same design she saw from the base she landed at.

Gary: Moments after, Andy exploded. The ship veered off course and coincidently crash landed on the Project Freelancer Operational Command Center. Kaikaina: Project Freelancer? Tucker: Aw crap... there's a base full of those fuckers?! Gary: Yes. Church: What about, Tex is she alright? Gary: She was dead when it crashed. Church: Sigh... crap.

The second slide shows Tex lying on the ground with a black box written with the words... well... "Black Box" on it.

Gary: The staff managed to recover Tex's corpse and the black box containing Sheila, Omega and me. They stored us inside containment before the Director decides what to do with us. Church: Director? Who's that? Gary: He is in charged with Project Freelancer.

The third slide shows, white armored soldiers running for their live as something, what looks like a generator,  behind them gets blown up or catches fire. Drawing's aren't so detail don't blame me.

Gary: Few days after the crash, one of the base's generators overheated, causing a chain reaction that freed me and Omega. No one knows how it happened but it is suggested that this wasn't a coincidence.

The fourth shows one of the soldiers laughing evilly over his dead comrade as the base behind him was on fire.

Gary: After we were freed, Omega started possessing the staff and killed them off, one by one, until Utah was left alive. I hid within one of the computers to hide from the chaos. For days I've waited for rescue until I met Blake. Does that answer your question?

Everyone are silent by Gary's story. Some don't believe him since his a liar, others were wondering whether he's really telling the truth. But the one thing that they all agree, is that Omega is back and is now somewhere on this planet wrecking havoc. Weiss and Blake, on the other hand, was not getting any sense of this.

Weiss:... Caboose: I like the last part. Kaikaina: O'Malley's back. That's bad right? Church: OF COURSE IT'S BAD! Weiss: O'Malley? Caboose: Oh that's what we call, Omega. The angry AI that tried to kill all of us. Blake: Wait a minute, you lied about being the base's computer system? Gary: Surprise, dirty shisno. Ha Ha Ha. Tucker: We told you he's a liar. So, where's O'Malley now and don't try lying this time! I'll tear of that AI chip from that armor and smash it with a hammer! Gary: Okay okay. I do not know where he is. I haven't seen him after the killing subsided. Church: Shit. Then he could be anywhere and inside any person on this planet. Tucker: But what of that 'Project Freelancer' stuff? Sounds like a military experiment. Church: I think he's referring to that classified military experiment, Tex took part in. The one where they implanted O'Malley into her armor. Weiss: AI implantation? I heard about that back at the Academy but it's very risky. What's a research like that doing on this war torn planet? Unless... this war is perfect place to run a military experiment. Church: That sounds like a plausible theory. But let's get to that later. For all we know, O'Malley's loose out there and his probably planning to take revenge on us. And the worst part, we don't know where he is. Caboose: Maybe we can ask the white guy the cat lady brought. Tucker: Hey good idea! He was from the base and probably the last person to saw O'Malley. . So where is he now? Blake: I had to lock him up in your base's janitor's closet. Tucker: The janitor's closet? Uhh... did you notice anything... off? Blake: No, just dirty mops. Tucker: Phew! Church: You disgust me, man. Well at least we got a lead. Blake: I'd advice you guys to be cautious. He's not mentally stable right now. Church: Thanks for the advice, lady. Tucker, Kai. Come with me. Kaikaina: I'll be the bad cop. Church: And NO strip teasing! Kaikaina: Pfft, asshole. Church: Caboose, Weiss. Take good care of our guest and keep an eye on, Gary, will ya? Caboose: Can I burrow your eye? Church: No.

Church, Tucker and Kai leaves the room.

Blake: I can't believe you just lied to me. Why would you do that after I found you? Gary: Well I didn't want to stay there forever so I had to use you. Blake: And that part of you going offline was a lie too? Gary: What? No. That was not originally part of the plan. I almost died if you hadn't removed me. Weiss: This is what I hate about military AIs. They're too human like to be controlled. Blake: I taught at one point you were interested in Dr. Catherine Halsey's theory of AI flash cloning? Weiss: Heh, true. But that's because Cortana was modeled after a human brain. So, Caboose. Now can you tell us what exactly transpired here before we both came? Just tell us the whole story. Caboose: Yay, storytime! This is going to fun. So you see, it started with me arriving at Blood Gulch and this tank lady named, Sheila...

Thirty minutes of the Blood Gulch Chronicles

Caboose:... and I said, "I meant why are we up here in the sun, when we could be standing down there in the shade". And then we stand under shade. The End! Weiss:... Blake:... Weiss:... This might take some time for me to process. Blake: Definitely. Though I kinda like this Doc. He's a very nice guy despite being possessed by a raging computer program.

Clearer Version: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph/art/Slideshows-RWBY-RVB-860686887

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

#weiss schnee #blake belladonna #michael j caboose #rwby #monty oum #Rooster Teeth #Red vs Blue

[razorblade180]

Black Queen

[schnee manor]

Oscar:*on the couch watching tv*

Whitley:*playing chess* I can’t believe I’m losing to you.

Ruby:Wow, wasn’t expecting a challenge? That’s a little harsh.

Whitley:You know that’s not what I meant. It’s just been awhile since I had a challenge. Several years I think.

Ruby:Weiss and Winter give you a hard time?

Whitley:Never actually played with Winter. As for Weiss, we were about even back then. She wasn’t too hard to beat though; that honor belongs to-

Yang comes barreling through the front door with Weiss on her shoulder. Blake is right behind her with Ren and Nora surrounding Jaune. Flashing lights can be seen as the door closes.

Weiss:Let me at em!!! If the paparazzi want a scoop so bad then I’ll give them one!!!!

Yang:As much as I would to see you beat up reporters, I know you’d yell at us for not stopping you afterwards.

Blake:In my opinion it would’ve been worth it.

Nora:I would’ve helped!!!

Jaune and Ren:That doesn’t make it better....

Ruby:I’m guessing the triple date was a fiasco?

Jaune:It was fine all the way until we went to grab food. Honestly we would’ve gone undetected but....

Ren:It’s like every piece of media has a radar on Weiss.

Whitley:I could’ve told you that. You think with all this snow our family would be hard to see but it’s the exact opposite.

Blake:He’s right; I’m surprised no one even cared about seeing me walk around casually. The people were too busy looking at Weiss to even bad mouth me.

Nora:I guess that’s the power of a Schnee for ya.

Weiss:I’m not even the heiress anymore! I thought the harassment would die down a bit.

Yang:Aren’t you still like an idol or something?

Whitley:Don’t forget a Beacon survivor; people eat that stuff up around here.

Jaune:We’re all survivors.

Whitley:But are you rich and caused an incident at a fundraiser?

Jaune:Fair point....

Ruby:Checkmate Whitley!

Whitley:Damnit, well played Ruby. *resetting the board*

Weiss:*slumped over* All I want is to be able to walk around freely and spend time outside. Jaune and I haven’t had one peaceful date.

Jaune:I don’t mind it. I knew what I was getting into.

Weiss:But I mind. It’s not fair to you. *pouting*

Whitley:If you don’t want to draw attention to yourself then you already have an answer.

He holds up the black queen chess piece for everyone to acknowledge. They all seem confused except for Weiss. Her face runs cold with horror as she knows exactly what that piece represents.

Weiss:How could you even suggest such an idea?

Whitley:I didn’t say it was perfect, but it’ll work like it did back then. It’s been forever since I’ve seen b-

Whitley:Bleiss Schnee can remain a fading memory for the rest of time!!!!

Everyone:.......

Nora:Uhhhh Bleiss Schnee? Who’s that.

Winter:*rushing in* Who dares speaks the demons name!? Was it you Whitley!?

Whitley:Guilty as charged. Weiss wants to go around town in disguise so I reminded her of her old friend.

Winter:I swear to god if we go down that road again I’m not dealing with the fallout this time.

Klein*from the other room* Neither am I!!!!

Ruby:Can someone explain to the rest of us what exactly we’re talking about?

Winter:When Weiss first became heiress and her singing career took off she got really fed up with the lack of privacy. So she created an alter ego that wears black.

Blake:So you named it Bleiss? Are you serious right now?

Weiss:*red* I was a child! Excuse me for not being more creative.

Whitley:Bleiss has her own birth certificate, bank account, and even a social security number. She was designed to basically be her own person. The media doesn’t pay attention to her a single bit because she has formally been shunned from the entire family and cut off from it completely. Nobody is interested in a useless Schnee.

Weiss:Ain’t that the truth; I pulled no punches in making sure she’s completely invisible as far as the media is concerned.

Yang:That’s great! Why don’t we break this bad girl out!

Weiss:*whispers*Nooooooooo it’s a bad idea...

Jaune:A bad idea? What makes it so bad.

Weiss:The “B” in Bleiss stands for black but honestly it should stand for....

Winter:Bitch, because that’s what she is. A complete bitch that’s out of control.

Nora:I need details right now.

Whitley:Her dressing up was fine at first until the freedom of being a regular kid truly sunk in. Being a nobody means nobody cares how you act. That simple fact plunged Weiss into dark temptations.

Winter:She became a wild child that refused to take off the outfit. Acting any crude way she wanted to that we literally had to get a doctor to make sure we didn’t unleash some multiple personality disorder. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Sooner or later things became sort of stale for her and being broke wasn’t fun. Next thing you know Weiss was her old self and we got rid of her clothes.

Ren:Sounds drastic.

Nora:Sounds awesome! I want to meet her!

Weiss:Have you not been paying attention!? She’s a wild child that doesn’t care about anything but herself. Honestly I can’t remember everything I did but what I do remember makes me grateful that I don’t remember everything. Besides I don’t have the clo-

Whitley:You’ll find all the clothes you own but in black inside the spare room closet. Including the contact lens and wig.

.......

Whitley and Weiss:Explain yourself right this instant.....

Whitley:What, she was fun. Chess against her was always exciting.

Ruby:Oh, she was your chess buddy? I guess a different personality would play the game in a whole new way. Like whenever Ozpin plays me instead of Oscar. Actually, could it be that-

Ozcar:Bleiss is not some secret other soul. Sometimes clothes just have a way of changing people. You should get a load of Dr.Oobleck in punk rock clothes like his younger years. It’s probably a similar situation.

Blake:Well if you have the clothes then make use of them. What are the odds you’ll act out again now that you’re older?

Weiss:I guarantee you that I will....

Whitley:Just put the wig on last and we’ll snatch it off when, and I do mean when you start to act up. Right Win-

The front door closes as Winter leaves in a hurry.

Whitley:......Well your friends have your back.

RBYJNOR:Yeah!!!

Whitley:But-

Jaune:Please Weiss?

Weiss:This is going to be crazy. I’m going to act insufferable.

Jaune:I’ll love you anyways.

Weiss:......Sigh, give me a moment.

*ten minutes later*

Weiss walks back into the living room stunning everyone. She’s wearing her volume 4 singing outfit. The dress is jet black with white speckles across it; almost looking like she’s wearing outer space around her. Sapphire earrings have been replaced with dazzling red rubies that match her contact lens. The most interesting change is myertenaster, it looks almost sold gold. All that’s the same is her hair; for now.

Yang:*whistles* this look sure feels more wild than your usual. Why that outfit?

Weiss:It’s hard to run in this so I’m confident you all can catch me if for some reason I try running off.

Blake:I might have a bias but you look good in black. I wasn’t expecting a gold version of your weapon.

Weiss:Like I said, I spared no expense fleshing this alter ego out; I even learned to do things right handed. A shame that I act like a hot mess like this. *shaking* Yet I’m oddly excited about this.

Nora:Come on, put the wig on already! I need to see this so called wild child.

Ren:I feel a rivalry brewing.

Weiss:Jaune I just need you to know that whatever I say-

Jaune:Relax, I won’t hold it against it you. *smiles*

Weiss:*puts on the wig*......

Everyone:.........

Yang:Well...feel anything?

Weiss:Actually....I don’t feel anything strange. Maybe I’m over it.

Ruby:You have white hair sticking out in the back. *fixing it* that should do- ow!

With no warning at all, her hands get smacked away like a fly.

Ruby:Hey, what’s the big idea?

“I don’t remember giving you giving me permission to touch me.”

Jaune:Weiss....? Are you- *suddenly catching her as she jumps into his arms*

Bleiss:You on the other hand, you can can touch me whenever you want. *caressing his chest*

Jaune:*blushing* What!?

Yang:Uhhh, Bleiss I presume?

Bleiss:*jumps to the ground with a smirk* Sup fuckers! Bleiss Schnee is here to shake things up.

Ozcar*getting Oobleck flashbacks*

Whitley:Hey Bleiss.

Bleiss:Sup twerp, you’ve grown like a weed. Still playing chess I see. Think you can finally beat me or am I gonna wipe the floor with you like last time?

Whitley:I’d like to see you try. I’m guessing you want to be the black pieces?

Bleiss:Hell yeah I do! *sits down*

Ren:You talk like you’ve been away a long time. I guess you treat the time spent between you and Weiss separate.

Bleiss:Duh, anything that prissy little snowflake does has nothing to do with me. *leans back stretches her legs out*

Ruby:*red* You’re wearing a dress! Close your legs.

Bleiss:Lighten up wall flower. It’s not like anybody here doesn’t know what panties look like. Except for virgin boy on the couch over there, but he’s mentally checked out at the moment.

Oscar:(She didn’t have to call me out like that.)

Ozcar:(Your time will come one day. Don’t let it get to you.)

Ruby:Whitley you’re okay with this!?

Whitley:*staring at the board* she does what she wants. I’m not looking so I’m fine.

Bleiss:He’d have to be pretty sick to want to. The only skirt he’d love to look under is yours.

Whitley:*blushing* Please stop.....

Bleiss:Awww look at that face. I wonder how many times that teenage brain of yours has been swarming with dirty thoughts of precious little girlfriend. I can’t believe you haven’t gotten his rocks off yet Ruby; scared it’s gonna hurt?

Ruby:*crimson* Out of line!

Yang:Definitely not talking to Weiss right now. She would never be bold enough to tell Ruby to have sex in front of me. Bold move...*glares*

Bleiss:Please, the only thing intimidating about you is boobs, and even that becomes underwhelming when people notice your scrawny ass.

Yang:SCRAWNY!?

Blake:*snickering*

Yang:Blake!?

Blake:I’m sorry but that was a little funny. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone call you out like that.

Nora:It is a little scrawny now that she mentions it.

Yang:Stop looking!

Jaune:*staring at Bleiss*.......

Bleiss:Hmm? Something got your attention? Not that I can blame you but I do remember me saying you can touch me whenever you want. I don’t mind if we have an audience. Let them learn a thing or to from us. *winking*

Everyone:*turning red*

Jaune:That is uhh....that’s fine.

Bleiss:Aw baby don’t be like that. I’ll do things to you that Weiss wishes she had the guts to do. All you have to do is ask nicely and I’ll get on me knees right now. Hell, you can just stand there and I’ll happily be the one to whip out your c-

Whitley:Checkmate! *quickly snatches her wig* that’s enough of that.

The room gets completely silent for a moment and just waits to see what happens next. Right before anyone can speak, the silence is interrupted by a girlish shriek from their familiar friend as she closes her legs. Her face burning with embarrassment. Without hesitation she stands up and scampers off to her room.

Jaune:That sure was an experience.

Nora:Sounds like she was about to give you a few experiences. Imagine if she was on the triple date with us. That could get wild.

Ren:That’s putting it lightly. I doubt the media would ignore extreme public displays of affection.

Blake:It’s called Voyeur and we’d definitely would’ve attracted at least one cameraman.

Yang:Maybe we should keep Bleiss under wraps unless something absolutely nuts calls for it. I’m already exhausted and it’s been five minutes.

Everyone:Agreed....

Weiss:*coming back out in regular clothes* How about we keep her locked up forever instead!?

Whitley:Aww, but I like playing chess against her. What about you Jaune; do you never want to see her again.

Weiss:*looking at him*......

Jaune:I mean...I don’t have to see her again. That being said, she seems interesting.....

Weiss:Jaune!!!

Jaune:It’ll be completely your choice though! My opinion has a bias. *blushing*

Weiss:I’ll....I’ll still keep it in mind. *blushing* just for you.

Whitley:*snickering* Predictable response. Guess that means I should set up the board again. Oh how I do love the black pieces.... *picks up the black queen and white knight*

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #winter schnee #whitley schnee #rwby klein #rwby wild rose #renora #bumbleby #rwby whiteknight #bleiss schnee #rwby blackgaurd #schneeblings #oscar pine #rwby ozpin

[dothwrites]

15.04 coda--before knowing remembers

---

Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.--William Faulkner

---

Sam’s bombshell effectively kills any conversation. Sam seems to be fine with it--he rests his forehead against the window like he’s in some kind of goddamn music video. Rain streaks past the windows and for a long time, the only sound in the car is the squeal of the wipers across the windshield and the soft hush of the tires sprinting over wet asphalt. 

What is there to say? Dean feels like a real piece of shit, but he can honestly say that it’s been...years since he thought about Jessica. Truth be told, he tried not to think about her much at all. It was one of those things--someone that he managed to be too late to save, another chalk mark on the tally of failures in his life--Except there, for the first few months that he and Sam were hunting together, back when their entire mission was We need to find Dad, he couldn’t turn his back on the idea that he’d failed. Failed Sam, failed Jess, even failed Mom in some subtle yet irreversible way. Every time he looked at Sam, it was like watching her burn all over again. Every time Sam woke up gasping was another reminder--You failed. 

So yeah, Dean tries to put Jessica out of his mind as much as possible. He’s done really well--between Madison, Ruby, Amelia, Eileen, and Rowena, between apocalypse after apocalypse, Jess got lost in the shuffle. Dean only met her the once--cute, blonde. Nice tits, if he’d been looking, which of course he was. Seemed sweet. Maybe seemed like she would have been something good. And then Dean crashed into her life and she ended up just another dead girl. 

So yeah, they don’t fucking talk on the way home. 

They get back to the bunker. Sam looks at Dean for a moment, like there’s something that he wants to say, but he can’t just figure out the words for it. He decides on silence. The last Dean sees of him is his shirttails whipping around a corner as he makes his way to his room. Dean wants to call after him, but he finds that he just doesn’t have the energy. That seems like it’s happening a lot to him lately. 

He ends up in one of the chairs in the library, glass in hand. He swirls the whiskey around, watching how it catches the light. He takes a slow sip, savoring the burn. 

It’s obvious that you’re not parents. 

That one...that one had stung. 

That kid, Billie. The way that he’d looked at Dean and knelt, so calm. Terrified. There was a look in his eyes, like maybe he wanted Dean to find a way out for him, but he already knew that wasn’t going to happen. His hands shook as he raised the machete--

Jack. Jack, looking up at him, slightly cross-eyed as he tried to keep Dean’s face and the gun in his sight. The acceptance on his face. The trust. The resignation. 

He’s like our kid, Sam said once, and Dean had scoffed. Dean Winchester, father? Yeah fucking right. But then the words had set in, and yeah. He and Sam had Lucifer’s weird little kid sleeping in their bunker. 

You’re not a parent. You wouldn’t understand. You’d die for your kid. Or kill for them. 

Dean tried to kill his kid. 

Sitting in the library, with Sam in his room doing his level best to try and disappear, it finally crashes down on Dean--the rage, the grief, the betrayal, the incessant screaming in the back of his mind--make it stop, make this stop, please, please--And Jack had just looked at him, doe-eyes blinking as he’d guided Dean’s hand toward his forehead. 

With a convulsive movement, Dean hefts the glass at the wall. In the split-second when it shatters and glass flies everywhere, he sees it--a flash of blue-white light, lightning striking, a clap of thunder and a flash of wings--And then he’s standing alone in the library, his hand bleeding where one of the shards managed to cut him. 

“What the fuck,” Dean mutters. He looks down at the blood trickling down his wrist. He presses down on the place where his skin split. Bright pain flashes through his hand and up his shoulder and the blood starts to flow with a vengeance. He remembers pressing down on the gash in Sam’s hand, when the wall came down, when...when...

Dean presses harder on the wound--What about this is real? What happened when Sam’s wall came tumbling down? Why is there betrayal mingling with his memories of Jack? What about this is real? 

We are. 

Dean rips his thumb away from his hand. His palm aches and the only sound in the library is the almost inaudible drip of his blood onto the hardwood floor. “What the fuck,” he mutters again, before he goes to wrap his hand. 

---

Sam emerges from his room around lunchtime the next day. Dean almost thinks about saying something, but decides against it when he sees the dark circles underneath his eyes. I can’t breathe, Sam had said, and for the first time in maybe years, Dean lets himself see the toll that this job took on his baby brother. Just another person in the long line of people that Dean’s managed to fail. 

Mom, Dad, Bobby, Jack, Charlie, Benny, Kevin--

There’s something else there, a name that lurks in the shadows at the back of his mind. Dean reaches for it, but it slithers away. It’s the almost, not-quite, tip of your tongue type of remembrance, where he would know what he was thinking about if he could only put a name to it, but he needs to put a name to it before he knows what he’s thinking about. 

“You have an accident last night?” 

Dean startles and looks over at Sam, who’s peering in the wastebasket. Ah. The remnants of the glass would be right on top. 

Dean forces a nonchalant shrug. “You know how it is. Butterfingers.” He waves his hands, forgetting the cut on his palm until the healing skin pulls. 

Sam doesn’t look convinced, but he also doesn’t look like he’s willing to go the ten rounds that it will take to wrestle a straight answer out of Dean. He never thought that he’d miss that pinched face and the prissy set of Sam’s mouth, but here he is. 

“So I thought that we’d take some time off,” Dean begins. He’d actually thought no such thing, but in light of last night’s conversation, it seems appropriate. 

“Actually I found us a job last night.” Sam holds out his phone and Dean scans the article. Two bodies found in Shoshone National Forest in Wyoming. Not the type of job that he would take when the temperature’s dropping, but hell. He’ll take it. 

“All right. Give me a few hours to get some laundry done, we can be on the road by 3.” After some searching, Dean finds a muffin that’s a little less stale than the others, and shoves it into his mouth. He chews around the dry texture, wincing as the lump of flour descends down his throat. 

“Great.” Sam is already half out the door when Dean calls his name. He pauses, but every line in his body screams his desire to be gone. 

“When you...” Dean scratches at the back of his neck, unsure of how to continue. In the doorway, Sam shifts his weight, taking an infinitesimal step backward. “Your wall. What do you remember about it? When it came down?”

Sam eyes widen before he squints in suspicion. The wall is just another thing in the long line of topics that they Don’t Talk About. They could fill an entire, separate bunker with the things that they choose to forget. 

“Why are you asking?”

Dean takes refuge in irritation. “It was just a question, never mind. Jesus.” 

Properly cowed, Sam’s shoulders slump. “I mean, you were there; I told you what I know. It just came down--too much scratching. I managed to wake up in time to help you stop Crowley from taking all the souls out of Purgatory, but not in time to stop the Leviathans from escaping. Took a while but I managed to patch it back up.” Sam’s fingers ghost self-consciously over his temples. “Seriously, why do you--” Sam’s eyes fall to Dean’s hand, and Dean resists the urge to snatch the offending apendage out of his sight. “Did something happen last night?” 

The scoff that Dean forces out of his throat burns in the air. “No. It was just...I was just wondering. Trying to figure out where we went right and where Chuck was just trying to nudge us along, you know?” 

The tension in Sam’s posture fades away, but doesn’t completely disappear. There’s still suspicion in his eyes as he looks at Dean. “You need to stop picking at it. Whatever Chuck did, whatever he tweaked--we’re free. Who cares whether or not he helped build back the wall? You said it yourself: we’re making our own choices now. He’s not interfering in our lives anymore.” Sam shakes his head as he huffs a little disbelieving laugh. “To think that I have to explain free will to you of all people.” 

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs. His ignorance sits on his shoulders like a cloak and he tries to shake off the feeling that he’s missing something essential. There’s something lurking just outside his awareness, something huge, something related to Sam’s wall, and Jack, and free will-- “Whatever. Leaving at 3!”

---

It’s an 11 hour drive to Shoshone National Forest. Once upon a time, Dean would have made that drive in one shot and not thought twice about it. Now, however--

Hour 7 brings a twinge to the back of his neck and a persistent ache to his lower back. His ass hurts. His 25 year old self would split a gut laughing at him. Of course, his 25 year old self never envisioned reaching the other side of 40 so what the hell does that asshole know? 

Sam doesn’t say anything as Dean pulls into the motel parking lot. He grunts when Dean says “First shower,” and by the time that Dean emerges, he’s fast asleep on the bed. 

“Asshole,” Dean mutters. He throws on some sweats and a t-shirt and pads over to Sam’s bed. Fucker didn’t even bother to take off his boots. 

Sam groans as Dean pulls off his boots, but doesn’t wake. The thought of moving that gargantuan body puts more weariness in Dean than the entire drive, so he doesn’t bother trying to roll Sam under the blankets. Let the Sasquatch figure that out for himself. 

He tucks himself under the blankets and pushes away the doubts nipping at the back of his mind. They won. They beat the ghost apocalypse, flipped God the bird, and killed the monster. 

So why does it feel like they lost? 

---

The next time Dean wakes, he’s in a dream. 

He can always tell that it’s a dream because sunlight tickles his eyelids while the scent of fresh laundry wafts into his nose. There’s no natural sunlight in the bunker and most motel sheets smell like ass. More than just the sensory elements, there’s the unreal, slow quality to his body and the world--the idea that he’s lagging, just a second behind where he should be. Every edge is muted and foggy--no one would ever run into the corner of a table in this world. If they did, their body would just slide off like oil and water. 

Dean likes this kind of dream, where he can pretend to be someone, anyone else, if only for a few minutes. He likes when he can wake in a bed that’s undeniably his, in a world where he gets to greet the dawn like any other person. A world where he doesn’t have to skulk in the shadows and feel guilty for what he’s done. A world where he gets to wake up with a warm body in bed next to him. 

At first, Dean doesn’t roll over. He used to have these dreams all the time, right around when he left Lisa. In the dream, he would wake up next to her and it would be like no time had ever passed. She’d grin at him, that huge I’m glad you’re here, I’m glad your face is the first thing I see in the morning, smile and press against him, all warm supple skin and easy laziness. Dean would wake up from those dreams feeling the ache of missing her, feeling the coldness of his empty bed even more than usual. And after all the shit had gone down, when she and Ben barely survived their encounter with Crowley’s minions, and he’d had to beg that douchebag Balthazar to erase their memories...Dean would imagine, just for a second, that he could hold her one more time. 

So he doesn’t roll over. He’s happy to linger in this moment, but only for a visit. A tourist. The hand on his upper left arm changes that. 

It’s a strong hand, capable. The fingers spread over his skin, slotting against his muscle in a predetermined way that lights recognition along Dean’s spine. A thumb strokes over a smattering of freckles while Dean struggles to breathe. It’s on the tip of his tongue, he could reach out and touch the answer. 

“Morning,” a sleep-rough voice rasps. A man’s voice. “You’re up early.” 

Dean can’t stop the roll of his body. He looks at his companion--dark, messy hair, sharp nose, light blue eyes, full lips, a jawline full of stubble. A lazy, indulgent, Sunday morning smile lights up his face. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? We can get up in a few hours.” 

Dean’s mouth opens, ready to say the name--Sam’s wall, Leviathans, We’re making this up as we go, I did all of it for you, I’ll have to watch you while you murder the world, I love you, We had a family, We Are--He’s inches away, centimeters, his heart singing because this is it, this is what he’s been missing--

He blinks, and the world...frizzes, like static on a TV picture. Dean blinks, mouth dry, and looks into Lisa’s warm, brown eyes. “Hey sweetie,” she says, thumb skating over the skin just below his eye. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

---

Dean wakes in the motel room, gasping and shaking. The dream threatens to slip through his fingers like water, so he grabs the notepad and writes down everything that he can remember--What the man looked like, the feelings that he had, the sudden realization that empty slots were being filled in his mind. 

Even as he writes, the details of the dream vanish. Within thirty seconds, he can’t remember the shade of the man’s eyes. After a minute, he’s having trouble recollecting the sound of his voice. After two minutes, he can’t remember what he said. His left shoulder tingles and Dean tries to fit his fingers to the pattern. It’s not right, he knows that, yet it feels closer to right than anything else. 

He leaves his hand on his shoulder, squeezing, throughout the night. 

read the rest on ao3!

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #supernatural #spn spoilers #15.04 coda #spn 15x04 #spn15 #fare thee well spn #welcome to the end #coda fic #dothwrites #should there be a part two #or should we leave it the way that it is #decisions decisions and all of them wrong

[the--blackdahlia]

This Life Chapter 21

Title: This Life Chapter 21

Summary:  Dean Winchester is the Vice President of the motorcycle club The Hunters. After almost 7 years in prison, he's free. But things have changed and Dean has to figure out how to put things back together.

Warnings: Language, violence, arson, murder

AN: There are only two more chapters after this one! A special thanks goes out to the beautiful @sams-serialkiller-fetish . The song for this chapter is Seek and Destroy by Metallica.

Sam called Jody, who called in a few favors with Austin PD, who released Lucifer’s body to her. So while they were working on all of that, the Wayward Sons returned to Winchester-Singer, where the Hunters stood waiting for any news. But one look at Gabriel’s face told Dean all he needed to know. It was the look of someone who had lost a brother.

“Gabriel?” Jo asked softly. He looked at her, his eyes not shining and there was not a mischievous smile on his face like there normally was. He walked past her like a zombie. Meg whispered in Jo’s ear what they had just seen, causing her to gasp. Jim pulled out a chair for Gabriel to sit down in.

“Do you want a funeral?” Bobby asked a while later, when the activity had started to pick up around the garage again.

“My family believes in cremation.” Gabriel told him. “Probably just a little ceremony when I spread his ashes.”

“Sprinkle him at Haunted Mansion?” Dean asked, causing Sam to slap his arm. “What?”

“He’d love that.” Gabriel laughed a little. “It’s against the rules of Disney. And for some reason, he’s the only person I’ve ever met that would do anything to give a big “screw you” to Walt.”

“It’s almost seventeen hours to Walt Disney World.” Charlie informed them.

“And twenty hours to Disneyland.” Ash added.

“Disney World!” Dean cheered, making Gabriel laugh. Sam shook his head.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s a good option right now.” Bobby said. “We still have two very pissed off princes out there, and we need to figure out who pumped Lucifer full of drugs.”

“I think I can help with that.” A voice said. Everyone jumped and were pulling guns. There stood Crowley, minus his Horsemen vest. It was in his hand as he raised them. “I come in peace.”

“You were there the day Azazel killed my dad.” Sam sneered. “I’m not going to trust you.”

“I didn’t want to even be a Horsemen.” Crowley said. “My mother is Cain’s sister. And before the coup, I was a prospect. Things were great until those assholes took over.”

“And why the fuck should we trust you?” Dean asked. Crowley shrugged.

“I’m not saying you have to. I just want you to listen.” Crowley said. “Please?”

“What do you think Bobby?” Sam asked. “Should we listen to him?”

“Let’s give him a shot. But the weapons are not leaving.” Bobby said. Crowley nodded.

“You can even check me for a wire.” He said, spreading his arms. Dean nodded for Kevin to check him out. Kevin patted him down. He didn’t even bring a gun with him. Just a pocket knife. No recording equipment, no cell phone, nothing. “I told you, I came in peace.” Bobby nodded and they escorted him to the meeting room. They set him down in a seat and the Hunters and Wayward Sons watched him like a hawk.

“Okay, what do you know?” Bobby asked.

“It was Ramiel and Asmodeus that ordered Lucifer to be used to send a message.” Crowley explained. “They have been in talks with this new club from north of here. Called God’s Chosen. They deal Demon Blood and some new thing called Angel Grace.”

“Angel Grace?” Dean asked. Crowley nodded.

“I’ve heard it’s a mutated form of angel dust. I’m not sure though. There’s not enough information out there yet, but I guess it’s just as addictive as Demon Blood is.” Crowley explained to them. “They got the Demon Blood from God’s Chosen. He was more than happy to oblige when he found out who it was for.”

“He? He who?” Gabriel asked.

“His name is Michael.” Crowley told him. Gabriel’s eyes darkened then.

“Gabriel?” Andy asked. “What is it?”

“That stupid fucker. He’s the one that got Lucifer addicted in the first place.” Gabriel growled.

“A dealer?” Caleb asked. Gabriel shook his head.

“No. Our big brother.” Gabriel told them. Everyone just stared. “There’s seven of us guys. Scattered all over the world. I stuck around to take care of Nick...Lucifer.” Gabriel explained.

“That’s some...really deep drama.” Cas said. “Glad I’m not apart of that family.”

“Ramiel and Asmodeus are back in Arizona, planning how to attack next.” Crowley explained. “They don’t know I’m here and frankly, I’m done with them.” He tossed the vest on to the table. “I would love to watch this all burn.”

“How do they know about everything?” Sam asked suddenly, making everyone look at him.

“They have a mole on the inside.” Crowley explained. “I’m not sure about his name, but I don’t see him here right now. I’ve heard his name thrown around a couple times, but for the life of me, I can’t remember for sure what it is.”

“Any clues?” Dean asked. Crowley closed his eyes, trying to think.

“I think his name started with a g…” Crowley said. All the Hunters looked at each other then.

“Son of a bitch.” Caleb hissed. “I’m going to kill him.”

“We have to find him first.” Bobby said. “I should’ve listened to John when he first said a freelancer was a bad idea. But I convinced him to give it a shot. And it worked for awhile. Apparently, it was working for both of us.”

“What?” Andy asked. Dean sighed.

“While I was locked up, the club agreed to hiring a freelancer to work for them. A hired gun, you can say. His name is…” Dean looked over at Jim.

“Gordon Walker.” Jim informed them.

“And he apparently was getting paid more by the Horsemen than we were paying.” Dean finished up.

“And how do we know you’re not that way?” Cas asked, looking down at Crowley.

“Shoot me for all I care.” Crowley told them. “I’m not going back there. They’ll kill me if you don’t first.”

“We’ll do protective custody for the time being.” Bobby said. “Can’t risk you running off and telling your buddies.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Crowley said. “I’m ready for it.”

“Well, there’s the room here.” Bobby said. “I’ll have Jo wash the sheets. Probably stinks of Dean.”

“Hey! I don’t stink!” Dean said. Caleb looked at him.

“Kid, have you ever been in the room with yourself when the boots come off?” He asked. Sam laughed, making Dean roll his eyes.

“At least I’m not gassy.” Dean grumbled. “One burrito and he’s toxic!”

“Whatever you say Dean.” Sam said, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Whatever you say.”

****

“Where’s Gabriel?” Ellen asked. They were settling down to dinner, both clubs and Crowley. Except Gabriel wasn’t around.

“He was here.” Sam said. “Just twenty minutes ago. I talked to him.”

“I thought I saw him leave.” Kevin told them.

“Leave?” Andy asked. “Where would he go?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“He’s going to Arizona.” Sam said. “He’s going to kill the Horsemen.”

****

Gabriel had plenty of time to plan on his trip back to Aguila. They had killed his big brother with the help of his eldest brother. He would deal with Michael later. Right now, he just wanted to make the Horsemen pay for what they had done to Lucifer. He had five gallons of gasoline and some matches. He was taking Crowley’s words to heart.

He was going to burn them.

He knew that he was getting phone calls one after another from the people waiting on him back in Wolfpine. He would call them when the deed was done. But he wanted to get it done first.

It was pretty early when he got to Aguila. There weren’t many people out and about yet, and that was perfect for Gabriel. He parked his park a little ways away from the Horsemen clubhouse and made his way around. Dropping his bag of supplies by him, he peered inside one of the windows. Ramiel was asleep on the pool table and Asmodeus was asleep on the couch in front of the TV. Gabriel smirked and reached into his bag. He grabbed some bungie chords that he had bought before picking up the gas and started securing each door leading to the outside. He made quick work of it. They were shut up nice and tight. The next thing he did was soak as much as he could in gas. He even had a bottle of light fluid if he needed it.

If the Horsemen thought it was okay to burn people, to take loved ones away in a firey blast, then Gabriel was going to do the same. Once the gas was all gone and some light fluid has been distributed, Gabriel lit a bunch of the matches and dropped them, watching the flames dance around and start to eat at the building.

“Adiós Jinetes. Manténganse calientes en el infierno.” Gabriel laughed. Four years of Spanish and he was going to use it. He made his way back to his bike. He found a place to watch as the fire consumed the Horsemen’s club. He didn’t see Ramiel or Asmodeus escape. He stuck around long enough to hear if there were any bodies recovered inside the building.

Seven bodies reported. And from the descriptions Gabriel heard, it was Asmodeus and Ramiel. With a smirk on his face, he headed back towards Texas, taking a break in New Mexico to tell the others what had happened.

****

“What?” Sam asked as he talked on the phone with Gabriel. “You’re serious?” Dean watched as Sam paced while on the phone. He had done that since he was little, getting caught up in the cords on the phone so much to the point John got a cordless. “I’ll let them all know.” He hung up.

“What’s up?” Bobby asked. Sam smiled.

“Ramiel and Asmodeus are dead.” Sam announced.

“You’re serious?” Dean asked. Sam nodded, a smile on his face. “And Gabriel did it?”

“Yes.” Sam said, a bigger smile. “He burned them.”

“So the Horsemen are gone?” Crowley asked. Him and Ruby were both bartending and they both proved to be excellent at it.

“Except for one.” Caleb said. Crowley felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. Were they going to kill him next? “Gordon. He has to be dealt with.”

“We’ll take care of it.” Cas said.

“I think this calls for a toast. Ruby, break out the Irish whiskey!” Jim called out, making everyone groan. But Ruby poured the shots and everyone drank them.

****

Gordon stood with Lilith, Abbadon, and Dagon, looking at the charred remains of the clubhouse. First, they had taken Azazel. Then Alastair. And finally, Ramiel and Asmodeus. The four of them stood there. They were all that was left.

“We’ll get revenge.” Gordon finally said. “The Hunters and the Wayward Sons won’t know what’s coming.”

“We’re helping.” Abbadon told him.

“We can’t just sit around.” Dagon added. Gordon nodded.

“Then get ready. Because we’re taking this fight to Texas.”

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @we-ride-with-the-tide @dekahg @marvel-af @feelmyroarrrr @gemini0410 @nanie5 @imboredsueme @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @strab0 @sandlee44

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles Tags: @luciathewinchestergirl @sheris532 @bobasheebaby @bella-ca

This Life Tags: @soulslaststand @jamielea81 @caplansteverogers @becs-bunker @colie87

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#this life #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #gabriel #fanfiction #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles

[essu-rwby-desu]

                                    Chapter 2: Dread in the Air Reaction  

                                                    -LONG POST-

LETTTTS GOOOOO!

GEOFFRY~ (If you’re an Achievement Hunter fan, then you know how it sounds when they say it. Also could you imagine Geoff actually voicing Wats or Arthur or whatever his name is?)

Ah I get it. Cowardly Lion. Ozpin. Glynda Goodwitch. Wizard of Oz. HARHARHARHAR- 

That being said, is Ironwood really suppose to be the Tin man? Cuz there’s two more schools left and that leaves enough room for Tin man and Scarecrow. I MEAN IM JUST SAYIN’.

-Insert anything that Geoff Ramsey might say- 

“Anime was a mistake.” I’ll just leave it at that.

“If Ruby Rose has learned to harness her gift, then you must take care to protect yours.”

We still don’t know jack shit about what Silver Eye’d owners can do, but this implies that they can do something to the Maidens power? 

Like if Ruby learns to go Full-Silver, can she suck the Maiden powers right out of Cinder? Do the power of the Silver Eyes just nullify the Maidens? Or does it just simply mean that Ruby could just eviscerate Cinder in. A blink. Of an eye? Eh? Eh?

“Tell Tyrion that I’d like to have a word with him.”

Da Smirk™

Boi is gonna get more than his tail cut off.

I’ve personally have not worn a skirt (at least not in a very long time), but. 

Her butt.

It must be cold and in pain from sitting on, what I presume, a metal container. AND ON A CARGO SHIP- NOT A NORMAL AIRPLANE. I JUST GOT BACK FROM A TRIP ON AN AIRPLANE RIDE. TURBULENCE MAN. That can’t be comfortable.

These 2 seconds of animation, pose, and lighting. Like. It’s really good. The animation felt really natural and the lighting/shadows and pose reads really well. I would recommend to watch this bit again to see what I’m talking about. 

One thing I would like to see improve is the lip sync/animation. 

She says “Where are we?” 

As odd as this is gonna sound to people who don’t animate, her lips should visually read “OoAh-Ah-OOee” than “Mah mah me.”

BUT THIS IS STILL GOOD NONETHELESS.

“Lancers. Freakin’ Lancers.”

YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN NEED TO BE GRIMM TO BE COMPLETE ASSHOLES. REAL LIFE WASPS ARE ALREADY A NEST OF DICKS.

“Officially: No. Actually: Yes.”

Time to exterminate these BAHSTAHDS.

What is this pose tho.

A very good frame.

Next to shooting elemental spells and summoning, I want to see Weiss just. Conjure a bunch of freakin’ weapons that shoot out of her glyphs. 

Weiss confirmed as the Heroic Spirit Gilgamesh.

Just look at her be magical.

Aw. She used an icy shield. What happened to her red glowy deflecting spell from the White Trailer? :<

Crater Face V2.

But seriously, just look at this screenshot; it’s like it’s from a traditional 2d anime. BUT IT’S IN 3D. Technical advances!

Damn, compared to her normal glyph, the summoning glyph has like 7 layers.

THERE IT IS YO. Though not really a knight-like stance :P

IT’S NOT AN RT VEHICLE FIGHT SCENE WITHOUT JUMPING OUT SAID VEHICLE.

K.O. - UWAH, UWAh, Uwah, uwah… -

WE’RE GOIN DOWWWWWNNNNN-

You can skip to the next image since these next couple of paragraphs are a head canon I came up with prior to V5.

I had a head canon that if the ship were to crash before Weiss got to her destination, she would have a case of amnesia; Waking up in the forest on fire, and having to make away from the wreckage, only later, at a safer place, discover she doesn’t remember who she is.

Long Story Short: She finds herself at some small village or town, cuts her hair, gets a new outfit, tries to find answers, but to make enough money to survive, becomes singer at a cafe/bar (also somehow despite forgetting a lot of things, knows how to play the guitar :P). Then she sees or hears on tv something about Haven Academy being attacked and sees Ruby and the rest on screen and be like “Hey those people are on my scroll thingy mabobber. Maybe they know who I am.”, remembers a few things everything, then yaddie yaddie yah, blah blah blah, rushes there, and then you have ½ of team RWBY back together.

Yo. Like. Fucking. Yo. I like her design very much.

YOU WERE THE CHOSE ONE. IT WAS SAID THAT YOU WOULD SAVE THE FAUNUS, NOT DOOM THEM TO A WAR AGAINST THE HUMANS. BRING BALANCE TO FAUNUS AND HUMANS, NOT LEAVE THEM IN BLOOD SHED.

God Damnit Adam.

“…they are examples of your short-sightedness.”

Well. Maybe if he took that visor off he would get a better view of the bigger picture. Haha. Jokes. Ez mode.

Don’t know much about Hazel, but I definitely like him more than Tyrion and Arthur.

Hm. What are those scars on his arm? Right where his shirt stops.

Nope. Don’t do it you fucker. Don’t get any closer.

“Humans should not just fear the Faunus, they should serve the Faunus.”

:|

Hazle: What are you doing?

Seriously. Wtf are you doing Adam.

Don’t you fuckin-

God-

DAMN IT, ADAM. First you stab Blake, then you cut off Yang’s arm, now you’re stabbing your boss? Honestly, of all the villains, I want Adam to be completely sliced the fuck up.

………..she’s so smol….

You know what. I doubt she’s actually dead. Like...

From a design stand point, they probably put in a lot of effort to design Sienna. They could’ve modeled some generic person and then killed them off, but she’s intricately designed. 

Look: She has stripes, she has a white spot on her ear, she has detailed clothes, a VERY distinguishable hair style. Like why would you put so much effort into one character you’re gonna throw away.

From a character stand point, if she survives, shes not gonna be strong after a stab straight through the stomach. Shes going to have to retreat. Find a safe place and recover. And perhaps plot revenge against Adam. Plus, she was the head hancho of the White Fang. She probably knows EVERYTHING (except her attempted assassination) about what their operations, bases, and intel are. I mean she could go to the Belladonna’s for help, despite their differences of what the White Fang should be, but it wouldn’t be to stop and change the White Fang, it’s to straight up stop and murder Adam’s  fuckboi ass.

But if she’s actually dead, then fuck me right?

“Nobody needed to die today.”

I, uh, wouldn’t be asking for help from people carrying a machete around.

Mama Bird just caught herself a nice treat.

WAIT, NO NOT THE FAC-

                                      Well alrighty then! That’s Chapter 2. 

                                                       Fuck Adam.

#rwby #rwby v5 #rwby spoilers #Essu's RWBY Reactionu #long post #image heavy #some gifs! #Essu's RWBY Commentary

[fakingitfanfiction]

Just For Me: Chapter 46

Previous Chapters

Seven years from now

What if?

Well, that’s just a loaded fucker of a question isn’t it? The kind most people know better than to ask, but knowing better and doing better… well… those are two very different things. Especially for Amy.

As we’ve established. More than once.

But that was all younger Amy and this is older Amy (though not that much older, and still looking good for her age, or any age, or so Reagan says), but, honestly, it’ll probably still take years or maybe decades for that particular lesson to really sink in and, clearly, it hasn’t just yet.

If it had… well…

Her sister would be speaking to her right now, now wouldn’t she?

There are more than a few things she’s done in her life that Amy’s second guessed. Or triple guessed (thruple guessed?) or quadruple or… ‘whatever the fuck five is’ guessed. It’s part of who she is, in her nature - right down to her DNA, and thank you very fucking much Jack and Farrah - and her nurture. Her mother (and Karma) and her disappearing father (and Karma) and, basically, the entirety of her high school existence (and Karma), at least the parts before Reagan, had her questioning everything, even her gayness and, even now, she still spends far too much time doubting her choices.

Not about her gayness, though. But, you know, about things like using (or even thinking) the word 'gayness’. And not about Reagan - who, sometimes (read: all the times) Amy’s so very exceptionally glad is fluent in speaking Amy - or her choice to forgive Jack or being OK with Karma and Lucy (or OK-ish, it’s a work in progress) or her choice to let Reagan name Katie cause, let’s face facts.

Katharine is a far better name than 'little ball of snot and poop that never lets me sleep’ even if that one might still be more accurate.

But, of all those things, this one, this very specific and very definitive and very 'how can you be so fucking stupid, don’t you remember what he did, and oh… I just called you 'stupid’ and that’s why you’re giving me that look right now, isn’t it, well… tough titty, cause I'm right’ one is so not among those things she’s second or third or fourth or infinity and fucking beyond guessed cause this one is her sister and this one is Theo and this one is so clear cut and so obvious that there’s no way even she can have gotten it wrong.

Except… you know… what if?

He cheated on her, she says. Except 'says’ was kinda only in her head and so… “He cheated on her,” she says, again and out loud this time and, apparently, much to the surprise of her wife and her brother-in-law who’s, now, her brother-in-law twice (bro in law squared?) and yeah, she knows that he knows that Theo cheated, maybe better than all of them, so “Why do you look so fucking surprised?”

Glenn shrugs and Amy steams cause that’s his default answer to everything. You want another beer? Shrug. You think the Stars will make the playoffs this year? Shrug. Is Lauren 100% the best thing to ever happen to you? Shrug.

He slept on the couch for a week after that one and, if baby Martin hadn’t developed a wicked case of 'oh, if I can’t sleep, then no one can colic’, Amy suspects - quite rightly - that Glenn’s banishment might have been longer.

Like, you know, until forever.

But, really, a shrug? For this?

“She’s going to invite him,” Amy says - and she makes sure to say it out loud the first time, this time - and then she corrects herself. “She’s going to invite them.”

Reagan eyes her across the counter, pausing in mid-sip of her way too fucking hot coffee (Amy doesn’t know how to make it any other way and her wife wishes, like with all her heart, that that might be one of those things she’d second guess), one brow lifting off just slightly at the way she said 'them’, hushed, in a whisper, like it’s a state secret she’s gotta hide away or some tiny bit of profanity she doesn’t want the baby to hear, or as if, by saying out loud, she might just magically conjure 'them’ up and make 'them’ appear.

No matter what she says or does, Reagan can never quite convince Amy that Harry Potter isn’t secretly real. It’s like a fucking religion with her, which she supposes - all religions considered - could be worse.

“Them,” Amy says, again, a bit louder this time as Glenn, apparently, didn’t reply fast enough and, Reagan knows, in the language of 'Amy’, speed often equals volume, which is annoying in conversation, but can be kinda… fun… in certain other ways. But this is not one of those ways and when Glenn shrugs - again - Amy wishes (almost out loud) that she could put him on the fucking couch.

(Not the fucking couch, as in the place of the fucking, but the other kind of fucking couch and no, she doesn’t really know how to explain the difference but see, this is what happens when that damn man gets her all worked up like this.)

(And not worked up like that and oh, that all sounded less dirty before she said it so, fortunately, she only said it to herself.)

(This time.)

What kind of couch doesn’t matter (much) cause what does matter is that “She’s going to invite her ex-husband and his wife and their kid to your son’s baptism.” Amy’s damn near yelling now and Reagan hopes Lolo stays upstairs with the baby cause, really, the silent fucking War of the Roses thing she and Amy have going on now is bad enough without Amy finding a way to make it worse.

You know, like Amy does.

“He’s her son, too, you know,” Glenn says, without so much as even a hint of a shrug and Amy immediately misses it, though she doesn’t miss the smirk on her wife’s face - Reagan loves the way her brother can get under her wife’s skin - and oh, someone’s definitely gonna be couching it tonight. “And,” Glenn adds, much to Amy’s even further annoyance, “she can invite whoever she’d like. What do you want me to do? Forbid her?” He shakes his head. “I’m not Lauren’s boss, Amy.”

That, it should be noted, was in their wedding vows.

I, Glenn Ramon Solis, promise to love, honor, and cherish you, Lauren Elizabeth Cooper, and to always remember that I am your partner and that you are not the boss of me, usually, just as I am not the boss of you.

Ever.

Amy remembers the words (almost as clearly as she remembers trying not to snort out loud at the ceremony) and she knows Glenn takes his vows seriously, like they were, you know, vows and that that isn't just because he’s (rightfully) terrified of his wife.

It’s also (read: mostly) (read: like sickeningly, worshipfully, damn near painfully) cause he loves his wife, in a way Amy didn’t know anyone could love anyone else - at least anyone that wasn’t her and Reagan - and in a way that makes her almost grateful Theo was (is) such a dirty, rotten cheating fuckwit.

If she could have chosen a man for her sister, Amy knows that man would have been a lot like Glenn.

Just, you know, a little less shrug-y and a lot more listening to her-y.

Amy hangs her head - sensing defeat, already - and curses under her breath, dropping a nearly inaudible 'mierda’ (with an almost passable accent), and Reagan smiles at the way her wife’s still stuck in the habit of swearing in Spanish, the little trick they picked up when Katie was still a tiny tiny and they were trying not to expose her to 'all the Goddamned profanity you two use’, as Farrah put it (without a single drop of irony.) Spanish - and a bit of French and a couple of really useful all purpose Portuguese cusses Karma taught them - was their compromise when going cold turkey just didn’t work.

After all, asking them to cut the four letter words out of their vocabulary was like asking Amy to cut bacon out of her diet or asking Karma to cut plans out of her… plans… or asking Lauren to stop hating Theo and… oh…

Yeah. Maybe, apparently, not the best example.

Amy knows she’s not going to convince Glenn to put his foot down and knows even better that it would only result in a foot up his ass if he did, so she tries another angle. “So, you’re telling me that you're OK with this?” she asks and Glenn doesn’t shrug (so Amy doesn't punch) but he also doesn’t say 'yes’ or 'no’ or 'not exactly’ or, even, 'Lauren’s OK with it and since I’d like to sleep in my bed sometime before my son gets to high school, yes, I’m just fucking fine with it and thank you for asking’ so, clearly, he’s somewhat less than OK and while that probably doesn’t matter, it’s still something.

Something, Reagan knows, Amy’s going to seize on and not let go and while there are certain times (read: in bed) (read: or the shower or the beach or that one time in the Planter’s parking lot) when she’s so very grateful for her wife's… determination… this doesn’t strike her as one of those times. “Shrimps, baby, maybe this is something you should leave for Lolo and -”

Remember that question? What if?

What if, in that moment, Amy doesn’t hold up a hand to shush her wife? Or, what if, she doesn’t shush her and walk right past her - like she’s not even there - crossing the kitchen to stand just a bit closer to Glenn? Or, what if, she doesn't ignore Reagan’s warning and doesn't keep right on pushing the issue and doesn’t, as only Amy can, make it even worse by not noticing Lauren standing in the kitchen door?

Well, if Amy hadn’t done any of that, then maybe she wouldn’t have had to spend an hour that night trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in on the recliner in her office cause she sure as fuck wasn’t sleeping in the bed and oh, funny thing, Reagan just happened to… suggest to Katie (the kid) and Lucky (the lab) and Ruby (the beagle) that they have a 'camping out night’ on the couch.

And oh, if only that had been her only problem. But it wasn’t - it so wasn’t - cause, see, as little as Amy’s learned about not second guessing herself, she’s learned even less about recognizing signs, like when someone knows something but, really, that something is none of your business or when, maybe, there’s a secret that someone - or a couple someones, or maybe a thruple of someones - is keeping and you ought to just fucking trust them that keeping it from you is for your own good.

Or, you know, theirs.

“He fucking cheated on her, Glenn,” Amy says, still ignoring Reagan’s frantic and almost pained and pleading 'Shrimps’. “Theo cheated on her in her bed and he broke her heart and he ruined her damn life.”

The words leave her mouth and she hears them but she doesn’t quite believe them or, at least, believe that they came from her - or that the gasp she hears behind her comes from her wife or that the 'what the fuck, Amy’ from the door comes from her sister - and Amy wants to say she’s sorry, she wants to say she didn’t mean it (she didn’t, at least not like that) and she wants Glenn to shrug, to just blow it all of cause, you know, that’s what he does, except that he doesn’t.

He doesn’t even look at her and if there was a couch nearby right then and there, Amy would exile herself to it immediately but then Glenn does look up - at his wife - and she nods, slowly and he turns back to Amy and, funnily enough, we’re back to where we started.

Back to that question.

“But what if,” Glenn says. “What if he didn’t?”

Five Years Ago

The knock comes a few days after Theo expected it would and the face on the other side of the door… well… it’s not the one (or the pair) he planned on, but he knows that he shouldn’t be at all surprised.

But he is.

(Also: he’s grateful, for more than one reason, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.)

“I thought for sure she’d send Tyson and Holyfield,” he says, stepping to one side so Glenn can come in. In truth, he’s a more than a little bit relieved Lauren didn’t send her sister and her best friend. That might have gotten ugly and painful.

For, you know, him. And, you know, more ugly and painful than this already is cause it’s plenty ugly - getting caught with your pants down is usually like that - and it's more than plenty painful cause, you know, getting caught with your pants down by your wife with someone who is so not your wife gives said wife one hell of an easy target for her very very so fucking very pointy toed shoes.

Theo walked with a limp for a week and even he knows that was the least of what he deserved.

Glenn steps into the house and it feels fucking weird, kinda like he hasn’t done it a million times before, but, of course, back then it was Theo and Lauren’s and now… it's not. Maybe it’s still the same house, with all the same rooms and all the same furniture and the same everything, but it’s not the same, not at all, and he can’t help wondering if Theo feels it too. “You do still remember I was a soldier, right?”

He doesn’t even look at Theo - he’s not entirely sure he’s going to be able to, not without getting a bit… upset or, truthfully, more upset - but he does hold up one hand, wiggling his pinky finger in the other man’s direction and he feels it, the shift in the air, as Theo leans up against the door, fidgeting just slightly further away, out of 'I can kill you with a finger’ (and would) (he absolutely fucking would, if Lauren would just let him) range and yeah…

Message received.

Reagan and Amy might have punched him (not might) and it might have hurt (oh, it so fucking would), but Theo knows he would’ve gotten back up from that - Liam and Jack did and, face it, he’s bigger and stronger than either of them though, apparently he’s also more of a fucking shit, which no one would have thought possible - but if Glenn decided to get physical?

All he’d need was someone to tell him where to hide the body. And Theo's got a pretty good inkling that Lauren would have all kinds of good ideas about that.

“Everything you’re here for is over there,” Theo says with a nod, careful to keep himself just out of reach - like that would really help - indicating the three stacks, a trio of cardboard mountains, box upon box, packing tape begetting packing tape and even though all the stacks are so very clearly - like in big bold permanent black marker letters clearly - marked 'Lauren’, Glenn can’t resist playing the asshole, just a little.

“Which ones?” he asks with a smirk that shifts to a grin - and not the 'yo, man, s'up?’ grin the two men usually shared - as he hears Theo sigh behind him. It’s settling in, Glenn knows, the slow realization that nope, he’s not going to make this any easier - though a bit potentially less physically painful - than his sister and her wife would have.

Theo points, risking his putting his arm in striking distance. “To the left,” he says.

He shouldn’t. Glenn knows he shouldn’t. He knows there’s nothing funny about this - and if he thought there ever was, the memory of Lauren sobbing herself to sleep on his couch every night for the last three weeks has easily disabused him of that - and he knows all too very fucking well that this Theo is not the same Theo he shared beers with and watched basketball with and hung out with while they both did everything they could (which wasn’t always enough or even close to it) to ignore that they were both in love with the same woman.

This, he knows, is no time for jokes. But, come on. 'To the left?’

It comes out without warning and - he’ll claim till the day he dies - without him even choosing to say it. It’s a blurt, an impulse that skips the brain and goes straight to the tongue and, before he can stop himself, Glenn’s singing (or what passes for singing with him.) “To the left, to the left,” he croons. “Everything you own in a box to the left…”

Theo snorts behind him and, for just a second, they're… them… again and, for just that same second, they both forget that they’re never going to be 'them’ again. They’ve always made an odd pair, shoved together by being the only 'boys’ in their little family and no, Liam didn’t count cause he was always on the outside looking in and Lauren may have forgiven but Theo never ever did, or would and Shane was a guy, but… well…

Shane’s a guy and a good one at that and they both love him but he's Shane.

They were brothers, of a sort, not like legally or anything - the brother in law of a sister in law doesn’t have an exact term, like an in law twice removed or some such shit - but, if you asked anyone, they’d be hard pressed to think of a Raudenfeld or Solis family gathering that hadn’t seen Theo and Glenn holed up somewhere, usually with Bruce, talking basketball and football and whatever other balls came up.

And ignoring the fuck out of the tiny blonde elephant in the room.

Theo hums a few bars and then he catches himself, realizing a few notes too late that he’s not meant to be enjoying this moment, like not at all. It feels, to him, kinda like he’s cheating all over again.

Sort of.

(Getting ahead again. Just wait.)

“Didn’t know you knew Beyonce,” he says which is, clearly, among the most ridiculous things he’s ever said cause who doesn’t know Bey?

Glenn shrugs. “Not like I’m a card carrying Beyhive member,” he says, eyeing the stacks of boxes. “But she was clearly the best of Destiny’s children, you know?”

He glances back at Theo and, not for the first time, there’s a rush of anger, of crippling sadness, of blood burning anger that comes over him and he has to look away, lest he find himself doing something about it. He wonders if Theo really gets what he’s done, if he understands just how far and how wide and how deep the damage he’s done reaches. The Theo he knew would’ve, he’d have totally gotten it.

But then, Glenn figures, the Theo he knew wouldn’t have done it in the first place. That Theo never would have brought home some skanky little… skank and he sure as hell wouldn’t have touched her or kissed her or…

Glenn focuses on the boxes, on the neatly stacked,secured, and packed away remnants of Lauren’s former life - and it is her life, that Glenn’s thinking about (mostly) - and tries not to wonder how he could have ever misjudged someone so badly.

And ignore that nagging little tug at the back of his head that just says no fucking way cause, obviously, fucking way. Lauren saw.

She saw.

Theo speaks up and brings Glenn back to reality. “I’m…” He shakes his head at the crack, the tiniest little hiccup of a thing, in his voice and God, how he’s wishing it really had been Amy and Reagan on the other side of the door cause at least maybe he’d be unconscious for this. “I’m, um, gonna grab a beer and hang out on the porch,” he says. “Better to be out of the way like that.”

Glenn nods like it’s the most logical thing he’s ever heard - and it does make sense - and keeps right on staring at those boxes as Theo slips past him and on down the hall and then, and only then, does he steal a glance at the stairs, a move he immediately (is there something sooner?) regrets..

Lauren, maybe you should wait…

What if, he wonders - for about the one zillionth time - she’d listened to him. What if she hadn’t charged up those stairs and down the short hall and through her bedroom door (for what would be the last time) and found… well…

The end. That’s what she found. The fucking end. Kinda literally.

Glenn’s tried so very hard to not blame himself, mostly cause he knows that’s just stupid - he wasn’t the one who hadn’t managed to keep it in his pants, after all - but it’s hard (absolutely

no pun intended) not to feel at least a little responsible. He’d seen the car in the drive, the car that wasn’t Theo’s, same as Lauren had. He’d heard the noises, the laughter and the moans and the voices that weren’t supposed to be there, same as Lauren had. He’d felt that sinking feeling in his gut, that sudden drop, like the world stopped turning and the gravity just fucking quit and he was left adrift, nothing to anchor him, all those things that had moored his life to normal just ripped away, even before he’d seen a thing.

Same as Lauren.

Or, you know, maybe not exactly the same, but close enough, it had all been close enough, they’d been two peas in a pod (they were 'twinning’, as his niece might say) right until that moment, right up until they weren’t. When he froze.

And Lauren didn’t.

Glenn’s tortured himself about it ever since. He’s laid awake so many nights, asking himself that same fucking question.

No. Not 'what if’.

Oh, he’s asked that too. What if he hadn’t froze, what if he’d done something - anything - other than calling out to her, so weakly, so meekly, so… so like he didn’t mean it, like he didn’t really want her to stop. And there it is, there’s the question Glenn’s been beating himself to a mental and emotional pulp with.

Why?

Why didn’t he stop her? Why didn’t he try harder? Why didn’t he do something to try and, at least, shield her from some of it? He loves her, or so he claims (in his head, only to himself, never once out loud except that one time to Katie, but who is she gonna tell?) and yet…

And yet he let her charge up those stairs - alone - and walk in on her husband with his pants gone and his mistress very much not gone and his hands on her hips and his lips on hers and

Glenn heard the muffled moan of a kiss interrupted by a scream (he’s never known if it was her or Lauren and he thinks, maybe, that’s better) and then…

It’s Lauren. You can imagine the 'and then’. Though, maybe, you might not want to.

He could have stopped her. OK… he could have tried and then, maybe, his conscience would be a bit clearer, maybe there’d be a bit less guilt and a bit less doubt and a lot more room in his head and heart for doing what he’s supposed to be doing, which is being Lauren’s friend, being supportive, and being the one (or, really, one of the ones) hating the fuck out of Theo for hurting her.

Except…

Except instead of doing what he’s supposed to be doing - literally, in this case, since he’s not walking those boxes out to his sister’s truck in the driveway - Glenn’s doing the exact opposite, instead of leaving, like he knows he should, he’s turning and walking into the house, through the kitchen, down the four stairs to the back, and out onto the porch and if Theo’s at all surprised to see him there, he doesn’t show it.

He probably expected it. A Solis staying when they should be going?

Must be in the DNA.

Glenn settles in the chair closest to the door, the one he always sits in, the only one that doesn’t have it’s back to the door and no, nobody ever asks why or what happened… over there… that left him with the unshakable need to limit the exposure cause, well, nobody ever asks anything about over there and he never talks about it.

Except to Katie on those nights when she was a tiny tiny and he babysat to give his sister and Amy a little break and he said a whole bunch of things he never should have said but, again, who is she going to tell?

(Besides, you know, her shrink when she’s older.)

“It doesn’t make sense,” he says and Theo doesn’t look at him or ask what 'it is’, though there’s a list of possible 'it’s’ a mile long. “I’ve gone over it and over it,” Glenn says, trying not to get a bit… bothered when Theo still just slowly sips his beer. “And all I ever come up with is that either you’re the stupidest fuck alive or…”

He trails off (yeah, cause the trail off ever ends well) and lets it dangle there, hanging between them, and if he’s waiting for a reaction?

He’s gonna be there a while.

'You remember the day she caught you?“ Glenn asks and yes, it is mostly a rhetorical question cause, duh, Theo’s probably got a vague recollection. "You remember where she was?”

The words 'with you’ trip off Theo’s tongue with the kind of ease reserved for basic facts of the universe: water’s wet, the sky’s blue, Liam Booker was a manwhore of epic proportions, you know, the obvious stuff.

Glenn’s surprised - just a bit - by the way it stings, by the sudden sharp pang of guilt he feels in his gut, like he’s the one in the wrong here, like he did something bad. He didn’t, not really, but he remembers enough Sunday school to remember there’s some sort of rule about not coveting another man’s wife, but coveting ain't cheating.

And rules? Don’t get Glenn started on rules.

Rule #1: Do the right thing, always, and you don’t need any more fucking rules.

Though, technically, coveting is probably not the right thing, but he’s just going to ignore that, OK?

“We had that conference,” he says, ignoring the insinuation he isn’t totally sure Theo meant to make cause, well, it’s easier that way. “The one for the mayor, to kick start his campaign for governor,” he says. “And it was supposed to run all day, remember? Till like five or six, at least.”

Theo takes another sip of his beer. A bit slower this time.

“We weren't supposed to be back,” Glenn says. His fingers are digging into the armrest of the chair, his nails chipping the wood, not that he notices. “We were supposed to be gone all day and then go to dinner after and we weren't supposed to be here then.”

'But you were’. That’s what Theo’s supposed to say. If there was a script for this -like the whole thing was some crazy ass plot twist cooked up by some whackadoo writer typing away at a tiny little computer at a tiny little desk and oh, then it would make so much more sense - then Theo’s next line would be 'but you were’ and he’d say it all bitter and angry like, as if it was Glenn’s fault that he and Lauren showed up when they did, like he was blaming everyone but himself like all the cheating asshats, like him, do.

Theo says nothing. Not a thing. Not a single fucking word and so, no, he’s not following the script, like not at all.

“She’s always figured that was it,” Glenn says, like 'always’ is 'forever’ or 'for so very long’ and not just for three tear filled weeks. “That was what made you think you could get away with it, why you thought… why you dared to bring her here.”

A schedule. A plan. A Lauren Cooper devised and laid out event (that went off without a hitch, that went off perfectly) that had a set start and end time and Theo had to know, he had to be so sure off all the timing cause, come on, it was 'Campaign by Lauren’.

Who could blame him for thinking it was safe?

Glenn stands, tugging his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his messages. It takes him a minute - his phone’s been bombarded by texts recently, the 'I’m crying and alone at two in the fucking morning’ kind in particular - but he finds the one he’s looking for and reads it and then he reads it again.

Just to be sure.

T-Money: How’s it going? Everything on track?

He tosses the phone down on the table in front of Theo, and he’s not surprised - much - when he doesn’t even look at it, doesn’t even check the reply.

Or, you know, the evidence.

“I texted you back,” Glenn says, settling back down into 'his’ chair, hands on his knees. “I told you it was all going great, so great, better than even Lauren could have planned and we both know that’s gotta be pretty fucking awesome.”

Theo sips his beer and stares straight ahead. He says nothing, still.

But yeah, he knows.

Glenn runs one hand through his hair, which is kinda pointless since he still keeps it buzzed to his damn scalp and there’s nothing to run through, but it’s a nervous habit, a tic, the sort of thing he did when he was younger and he was asking Amanda King to the prom. He’s worried… no, not worried.

He's scared.

He’s fucking terrified, worried that he’s right and maybe a little more worried that he's not and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with either, but he’s still gotta try, he’s gotta push on cause, you know, he froze.

He owes her this much.

“I told you,” Glenn says. “I told you things were going to finish up early and we were going to stop home before the dinner.” He watches Theo’s fingers close tighter around the beer. “I told you we’d be here. You knew. You knew and you brought… her… here anyway.”

'What can I say’ and 'thrill of danger, the risk of getting caught’ and 'she got off on it’ all come spilling out of Theo in a jumble, a mess of words that run together and if that didn’t make them sound rehearsed - like he’s been waiting for this - the fact that he can’t even look at Glenn, that he pushes the beer and the phone away and lets his head fall into his hands…

Yeah, Glenn can read that tell. Hell… Karma could.

“You wanted to get caught.” Glenn says - fuck 'says’, he snarls - his hands balling into fists in his lap. “You wanted Lauren to see you with her, you wanted to hurt her -”

“It was the lesser pain,” Theo blurts and then cusses himself under his breath. He didn’t mean to say it, he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t. “This is why,” he mutters, “this is why I wished she’d send them.”

Amy and Reagan wouldn’t have pushed because they wouldn’t have known and, more to the point, neither of them would have cared. They’d have punched first, not asked questions at all, loaded all the boxes second and, probably, punched again.

And he’d have deserved them. That would probably be the only thing Theo might think that they’d agree with.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Glenn snaps. He’s forcing himself to stay in the chair - not that he’d actually, you know, use his pinky (probably) - trying to give Theo a chance to explain, even if he can’t, for the fucking life of him, think of anything that could explain any of this. “You think finding you and her was somehow 'lesser’?” His fingers curl the air quotes around the word as it burns its way off his tongue.

“There’s degrees, Glenn,” Theo says. “Degrees of everything. Love and hate and… pain. And yeah, as much as it killed her, Lauren finding us that way was the lesser pain, like a thousand degree burn compared to falling into the sun. I know it sucks and it’s ripping her up, but she’ll get through it.”

He says it like there’s another option and not just some other, fucking mythical pain that Lauren couldn’t get through. There’s no such thing, no such pain or challenge or obstacle she just can’t overcome. Glenn knows that. He’s sure of very little in this world, but he's positive of that.

“She’ll get through it by hating you,” he says. “By despising you and cursing you and regretting the day she ever met you.” All of which, he doesn’t mention, Lauren’s already doing in fucking spades. “And that, all of that anger and hate, it will burn like the sun, but it’ll never last. It just can’t. Sooner or later, it’s going to burn itself out and then? Lauren will be empty. You’ll have your little whore, but she’ll be alone and that’s what’s going to fill in those hollow, empty, burned out places you left in her.”

Theo snorts - a bitter and angry grunt of a thing and, really, where the fuck does he get off with that - and shakes his head, ignoring the bits about the damage he did (he doesn’t need Glenn to remind him, the ring still on his finger does that just fine) and focusing, instead, on the one thing that he can even kinda get upset about.

“I think we both know the last thing Lauren’s going to be is alone.”

And there it is. The heart of the matter. The elephant in the room who isn’t even there but can’t be ignored any more.

“Fuck you,” Glenn says - and so much for 'brothers’ - pushing his way up and out of his chair and now he’s the one with the burning suns scorching just beneath his skin. “If you think I would ever use this to -”

“I don’t,” Theo says and the edge has slipped from his voice, the knife edged words sheathed again. He slumps back over the table and Glenn doesn’t know what to make of it, or how to process the way this guy he thought he knew so well is shifting gears right in front of him. “I’d never think that. Not of you and not of her.” He laughs again and this time it’s almost genuine and not at all bitter of angry. “Hell, if you even tried, I’m pretty sure your sister would fuck your shit up, family or not.”

He’s not wrong.

“But you’ll be there,” he says. “Like you’re always there. Like you’ve stayed all along, when you knew her heart was somewhere else and you didn’t care.” Theo looks at him, finally, and it’s all right there in his eyes. “You love her. You love her the way that I did… the way I do… and that means you’ll stay.” He looks away, biting at his lip, the pain keeping the tears at bay. “Always.”

There’s an obvious retort, a clear comeback just teed up for him and Glenn sees it, right there, just waiting. But that’s just it, isn’t it? It's obvious, it's clear, it's easy and all of this, from them walking in on Theo and her to Lauren having his shoulder to cry on to Theo not even fighting the divorce at all - he offered her the house, for fuck’s sake (she said no) (for, again, all the obvious reasons) has been like that.

Obvious. Easy. Clear.

He’s the bad guy, the cheating dick, the loser who threw away years - his entire life since high school - for a cheap side piece.

Yeah. Obvious. Easy.

And, suddenly, it’s all a lot more clear.

“What’s her name?” Glenn asks and Theo’s head snaps up. “Your mistress. What’s her name?”

“What?”

Glenn bites back the 'did I stutter?’, trying to keep his temper in check. “What’s her name?” he asks, again. “Where did you meet? How long was it going on? You gonna marry her, now? Is she even interested in that, or was this just about fucking a married man?” He takes a step to the table, leans over it, looming - as much as someone a good foot fucking shorter can - over Theo. “What’s. Her. Name?”

Theo scoots back, just a little. “What’s. Your. Point?”

Well… fuck. Just… total and absolute fuck. Like all the fucks all in one place and that place?

Right smack between Glenn and Lauren. Because now, he knows. Maybe not all of it, maybe not exactly why - but just wait, he’ll get there - but he knows enough.

“You threw it away on purpose,” he says and Theo doesn’t argue the point so, yeah, fuck. “You made sure you did the one thing she’d never forgive and no, that’s not the cheating. It’s being made to look a fool. And you made sure… with my help… that she caught you.”

Glenn staggers back and falls down into his chair. His brain… it doesn’t work this way, it doesn’t think like his sister’s or Amy’s or even Karma’s (especially not Karma’s.) He sees everything in all it’s simplest of terms, in kill or be killed, be happy or not, love or don’t. The messes Reagan told him about from back when she and Amy first got together? They’re as foreign and as weird to Glenn as carrying an M-16 through a fucking desert would be to his sister or to her wife or to Karma (yes, especially Karma, again.)

So, this?

Yeah… this is some Star Wars live long and prosper world of wizarding he who shall not be named shit.

(And yes, he knows those are all different. He’s spent far too fucking long around Amy not to.)

“You had it all,” Glenn says and he’s incredibly proud that he keeps the judgement out of his voice. “Everything. You’ve been in love with her since high school, you survived four years apart in college, you had the most sickeningly fairy tale wedding that I’ve ever seen, and you threw it all away, on purpose, when you had everything you ever wanted.”

“I know,” Theo says so simply, so obviously. “But that’s just it. What if… it wasn't everything?”

#faking it #faking it fanfiction #reamy #update #lauren #submission #secretmonkey #Just For Me