#and then FLING themselves into traffic -- in front of my car.

[shinkei-shinto]

I don’t feel like typing this out a million times so, the story of the Haunted Package:

Back in February, I ordered a collar. I put it off for a little bit too long for a bunch of various reasons, and finally contacted the seller, ran into language problems, got things settled out, and paid.

Literally the next day the war started. The war on Ukraine. Where that seller was.

I shrugged and wrote it off. It was less than $50; and certainly, if they could access it, the seller needed it more. I thought about it a few times over the following months, looked longingly at the hiatus’ing and then shut-down shop, looked at the closed listing, all that. No big deal, just some mild heartache.

And then, in early september, I got an email.

“Your package has been assigned a tracking number,” the email said.

“The fuck it has,” I said.

I wrestled with the email, the tracking, I wrestled with the language problems, it’s not really important. Suffice to say I did manage to get the number into a box and that box told me that the number existed.

This is where it gets fun.

So, typically, when you order a package, and it comes with a tracking number, and it is being shipped into the US, there are a couple of options as to What Exactly Happens. The most common one being that the tracking number simply stops working.

So, when I saw that the package had been “accepted” (in a city inside of an active warzone) and “processed” I did not believe anything was happening. When I saw, two days later, with a backdate four days earlier, that it had been “handed over to customs” all within the space of a couple of minutes on the time stamps, I continued to disbelieve anything was really happening. So far, everything is pretty explicable in terms of “someone made up a number to make Etsy stop being upset and allow the shop to be permanently closed”. That’s reasonable! It’s a fucking warzone. They have more important problems than “you can’t close your shop because I need a tracking number, wah wah.”

And then, in the most bizarre twist, the tracking number started working on the USPS website. At the moment, it said something like “this sure does exist in the ukraine somewhere”. That had me curious. I could accept that a website in a language I can’t read might be able to be manipulated with a fake tracking number. Not so for the USPS, which is generally a pain in the ass.

So I watched it. It continued to not move, or update. I eventually wrote it off again; expecting this was just a glitch or happenstance.

But I kept refreshing the page. Once a day. Just for the kick in the nuts.

And then - the USPS tracking updated with the Ukraine tracking information. And this gave me pause. Typically, when I’ve had packages delivered in with tracking numbers, it tracks beautifully right up to the border, and then USPS takes it and goes “lol you paid for international tracking and we’re national, fuck you” and the next update I get is a “you missed our delivery because you were out :( we’re so sowwy”. I have never seen USPS update its tracking on its national, US based website, to include actions that were done in another country before USPS even knew there was a tracking number.

But wait! it gets weirder!

Now USPS knew it existed, I guess. Now I could start refreshing this site, once a day, just for the curiousity at this point. Was it what I ordered? Did someone put a rock in a box and ship it to my address? Did someone return to the post office building in the war zone and take the packages out for delivery, seven months after that package was dropped off??

I will probably never know.

Anyways, two weeks go by. I finally give it up for gone. USPS must have wised up, I told myself. They must have figured out that someone made this up to make a website shut up and stopped this roller coaster here.

And then it updated. 

In Jamaica, New York. 

“Excuse me?” I thought. “Even if this is an international package, why in the fuck is it somehow on both an island and in the US?” At this point, my partner called it “haunted” and I was quick to agree: this is the strangest package experience I’ve ever had in my entire life. Surely something is in the mail for me now. Will I have to pay customs? Will I have a piece of concrete from a warzone on my desk with the weirdest story ever attached to it???

It moved again. Now it was no longer in Jamaica. And then it disappeared again. And then, a week later, we are now at the end of September, I have waited 20-something days and 7 months for this thing to exist,

It showed up in Portland. But not where I thought it would be; it was not near the airport, the ports, or either of the two major entries into the city; it was somehow one zipcode north of me.

“Alright.” I said. “Game On.” So I started paying attention to it. Of course, this is USPS, so when Sat/Sun hit, I knew there was not going to be anything. All was quiet for a weekend.

And then Monday came. And then it was out for delivery. And then, we reach the not new but still wildly infuriating part of this tale: the “delivery attempt”.

I have an Arlo doorbell camera. It is connected to my phone. When someone presses the button on the doorbell, it rings, and then it rings my phone. I know that packages generally show up somewhere between 11a and 1p. Foolish, foolish me decided I would trust the mail person to press the button on the doorbell camera. Foolish me decided that, because the tracking did not say “signature needed”, it would not need a signature.

Dear readers, was I ever fucking wrong. At 11:35, I refreshed the tracking number. 

“Missed Delivery” it said. “Attempted to deliver; no one was home.”

Dear readers. Not only was I home. Not only was my partner home. Not only was my roommate home.

I WAS LESS THAN TWENTY GODDAMN FEET AWAY FROM THE FUCKING DOOR.

He did not knock, he did not ring, he did not even fucking pause, because he had already written out the “we missed you because you were not home!!! :(” pink slip, stuck it to a letter (THAT WAS NOT EVEN MEANT FOR ME! HE JUST RANDOMLY PICKED ONE OF MY ROOMMATES!) and jammed it into the slot.

I have several problems with this. It has never, not once ever, been normal to stick the pink slip to a letter and put it into the slot. We have a metal screen door. I have always, always had my mail people open the screen door (which I would have heard) slap their fist on the door once, probably with the pink slip on that hand to stick it to the door, and then run away like they were being shot at.

At this point, the rage hit me. Not because I had been duped. Not because I had been fucked over by the mail delivery person, who did not knock, who did not ring, who did not even pause for long enough to activate the doorbell camera. No, no, I was mad,

because he chose not to mark one of the two checkboxes for “will attempt redelivery” or “will be at location for pickup tomorrow.”

I understand, you’re overworked. I understand, you’re trying to get done with this shitty thankless job as fast as humanly possible and go home. I understand! I do! 

But if you’re going to fucking prewrite the denial slip. If you’re going to fuck me over on purpose when you set out from your little mail truck.

at least.

mark.

the fucking box.

My dear, long-suffering partner, saint that they are, called the post office in my stead (as I was still screeching and throwing soft objects) to ask where it would be.

They hung up on them.

So they called again. And went through the process again. And got hung up on again. So they, expressing more patience than I have ever felt in my entire body,

called the main post office line. And waited. For something like 40 minutes. And listened to all of the fucking nonsense and the stupid condescending robots. And finally, finally got to a real person.

I heard two words out of that real person’s mouth and escorted myself out of the room and off of the floor of the house, because there was enough condescension there to drown me. My wonderful partner did manage to get two important piece of information: first, that the package would in fact be available for pickup the next day at the regular location. Second, that we were going to be blamed for “not being there” no matter what we did.

I think, dear readers, next time, I’m going to set off the doorbell siren. When that hand reaches out with that pink slip and that back turns on me, I think I am going to snap like a brittle bone. I dearly hope they do not attempt this stupid shit again. I dearly hope I am smart enough to remember this in the future, and sit staring at the door for three straight hours. I wonder if they’ll have the good sense to look guilty when I put the full pressure of 17 years in the South behind my gaze.

Anyways. Thanks to some Substances and some Video Games, I managed to taper off the rage boiling in my chest enough to sleep. I planned my day, I did my work, and I left my house at 8:00 on the dot.

The post office, you see, opens at 8:30. It is maybe 15 minutes away. I was not playing games today.

I arrived at 8:12. I sat in my car until 8:20. In that time, I saw three people drive up, park, get out of their cars, see the later-than-normal opening time, and turn around and go home.

I was not going to be defeated so easily.

At 8:20, I moved to the front of the building. At 8:25, I moved inside of the vestibule. By 8:27, I had three compatriots waiting in line with me.

At 8:28, some fucking blonde white woman with a voice like a cheesegrater being used to play a violin walked in, looked at the door marked “employees only”, and pressed the doorbell next to it. Instead of telling her to fuck off and wait in line like the rest of us, the employee who opened that door 

helped her.

It is now 8:31. I am now growing increasingly upset at the situation, but my long years of training in Texas have taken over. I am standing with perfect posture. My face may or may not be twisted into a snarl, but I have a mask on: no one can see. My gaze, however, could peel the tracksuit off of that fucking woman.

Someone finally comes to the door of the post office, switches it to open, and welcomes the line of now five people in.

I walk up, and wait. The same person appears behind the counter. I hand him my pink slip. He asks for my ID. I hand him my ID. Now, something I have not yet mentioned in my slow, precise laying-out of this situation: the reason for this? the reason the “delivery” person did not leave me my fucking package?

“Signature Required.”

Now. That’s not unusual. It is an international package. However. I did not pay for signature. It was not present on the tracking page. It was not at any point in any way told to me that I would need to sign for this package. Readers, I was comfortable in this assumption that there was not a signature needed for this package, so when I approached the counter and handed over my ID, I expected, that like all things in the world, the situation would right itself and I would be asked for a signature once the package was in my eyesight.

Now, back to the tale. The nice post office man hands me my ID. He takes my pink slip. And he

disappears.

Into the back room. This is completely normal. I wait the regular amount of time, posture pristine, teeth gritting, one hand held in the other behind my back so that I could sink my claws into my soft pink flesh and not be rude. My phone buzzes. I check the message: it is not critical. I put the phone back in my pocket. The regular amount of time passes again. The man has not returned.

I see him slink across the back of the back room, not making eye contact, to the second back room. This is when I begin to grow concerned. Have I, at this last moment, at this final hurdle, fallen? Has the fucking asshole who “delivered” and ditched “forgotten” the package on his truck? It has happened before. I have been told, in kinder terms, to fuck off and wait for redelivery before.

The man slinks back the other way, but this time he feels my gaze, looks half over his shoulder, tries a smile - he doesn’t feel it - and speed walks back to the first back room.

Oh, no.

He is joined by a coworker. They are both looking, my little pink slip in hand. One of them disappears from view further into the back room. Now the other one, too. We are approaching the 10 minute mark.

More agonizing time passes. The line has grown to maybe 7 people behind me. There are no other cashiers. We all wait.

Finally, finally, he returns, a curious, nonstandard shaped package in his hand. Is it my package?

He dumps it on the counter, out of reach, out of view, and disappears again.

It took everything in my tiny body not to do more than unclasp my hands from behind my back, throw them out at my hips in a “are you fucking serious” gesture, catch myself, and lock my sharp little claws back into my squishy little wrist again.

Several minutes later, he returns. He has a cash drawer. “Oh?” I think “Do I need to pay customs fees? Is that what this is?” He assembles his drawer. He places it into his register. He picks up my box.

“Finally,” I think to myself, “finally this is going to be over.”

He scans the box. He places it on the scale.

“Here you go :)”

“I don’t need to sign? I don’t need to pay?”

“Nope!” And he waves the next person over.

At this point. I have been misled. I have been ditched. I have been dragged across this fucking saga for an entire month plus one extra day just to fuck me over a little bit more.

And then I find out. That I do not - that I have not - that I NEVER needed to sign. That the person who “attempted delivery” marked a box that wasn’t even relevant for reasons I will never understand.

I get to my car. I now have this strange box, possibly containing a collar, possibly containing a very light piece of warzone rubbish. I take out my knife - several inches long, cardboard destroyer, bark ripper, this thing looks mean - and the person in the car next to me, who has just arrived, widens their eyes and scurries off towards the post office.

There was, in fact, a collar in the box.

It was not the collar I ordered. Someone went to great lengths to get very close to the object that I had discussed with the seller, that I had seen photographs of, but it was not the object that I ordered.

The hardware was different (this was my first clue) and the stitching was poor. And the material for the decoration was different. And the riveting was different.

Thus ends the Haunted Package Saga, story of the strangest package delivery I have ever experienced, not with a bang or a whimper, but with an extremely, extremely confused me.

I sort of wish it had been a warzone rock.

#text post #readmore #long post #shin talks #The Haunted Package Saga #Haunted Package #at least if it was a rock I would have been delightedly confused #but this leaves me with even more questions #just to add more bullshit to the pile I got stuck behind not one #but TWO usps mail trucks on the way home #it took TWICE AS LONG to get home #and then I had not one but TWO bikers decide that the appropriate way to signal their intent to randomly turn left across a two lane street #was to lift their hand from the handlebar not even enough to make a limp gay wrist #and then FLING themselves into traffic -- in front of my car.

[ambertea]

together

(read on AO3)

Day two of the Doctorrose Fic Marathon! Based on the prompt "holding hands".

“I want a job.” He announced one morning. Rose was hovering over a mirror as she lined her eyes with dark pencil. “I was thinking Torchwood.”

She stayed silent, her eyebrows furrowing as she rubbed at the mascara that had fallen under her eyes. His feet lead him to stand behind her, and he watched his nervous face reflected back at him.

“Is that okay?”

She nodded at herself in the mirror and straightened. “Talk to Pete.”

“Well, actually, I was thinking your department sounded more interesting.”

She turned and stared at him flatly.

“Tell me what my department does.”

“Alien…stuff.” He replied, rubbing at the back of his neck.

She brushed past him and his hands snatched at her wrists, quickly dropping them at the look on her face.

“Rose, please.”

Her eyes flicked to the clock behind him. “I’m running late.”

“Tomorrow, then?” He asked eagerly. She nodded.

“Tomorrow, yeah. Sure.”

The door banged behind her, and he collapsed onto the bed and let the silence taunt him once more.

It was nice, being stuck in one place, nice in a way that made his muscles tense and his fingers curl. The next-door neighbours always smiled at him when he put out the bins, and the girl at the coffee shop didn’t even ask for his order anymore, just thrust it at him with her usual dreary rage. The kids on the street all knew his name – well, one of his names – and called out to him to play football with them or help them with their homework.

Rose enjoyed it less. Everywhere she went, whispers followed. People eyed her nervously in the supermarket, would press themselves against the shelves as though she was an elephant thundering past, rather than a small human woman trying to buy milk.

Everyone he asked about it had just shrugged. Rose herself had ignored him entirely, but whether that was due to the question itself or just his presence was unclear.

He had spent three long years away from her, yet he had never missed her quite like this. She slept beside him—apparently, the only proof he had was slightly creased sheets and makeup stains on her pillows—and then would disappear with a cursory “Torchwood” thrown over her shoulder. Her phone, that was literally always in her hand, was apparently incapable of picking up his calls or answering texts, and his own only mocked him with read receipts.

He had thought she would understand this new him. He had changed his entire body before, and it was less than a day after that she had been holding his hand and snuggling into his side. It had been four months now, in this universe, four long and agonising months of sitting indoors and waiting for something to happen. Every time he looked at her, he hoped for some flood of recognition, a moment where she realised he was still him and so they ought to just get on with it.

Every day that passed brought less and less hope that that would ever happen.

“Wake up. Hey, wake up.”

He opened his eyes, blinking against the bleariness of sleep. A fan of blonde hair tickled the sides of his face, and brown eyes watched him blankly.

“Rose?”

“Come on.”

He sat up, stretching out his arms and working the kinks out of his back. The windows were dark, and the traffic outside was only loud, rather than its usual deafening. Rose folded her arms and stared down at him, and he fidgeted slightly under her gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“You wanted Torchwood. It’s time for Torchwood. Put these on,” she ordered, throwing some boots on the floor. “We need to go.”

“Right.” He said, limbs failing in his haste to stand. The room flickered with darkness for a second and he cursed stupid human blood pressure. “Where are we going?”

“Coast.”

“Which coast?” He asked, wrestling the boots onto his bare feet. Rose rolled her eyes and threw a jacket at him.

“The one next to the sea. Now come on, hurry up.”

He thrust his arms into the jacket and hurried after her retreating form. A blast of cold hair hit him like a bucket of cold water, and he wrapped his arms tightly around his sides as he shuffled forwards. Rose’s phone was at her ear, her voice hard as she barked out her instructions.

“Solomon street. Now.”

A green SUV whizzed round the corner, skidding to a stop perfectly in front of them. A young man stepped out, ginger and pale, and immediately saluted.

“Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Stewart. I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The boy turned and marched down the street, picking his direction seemingly at random. Rose jumped into the drivers’ side and looked at him impatiently. He gawked at her through the window.

“What’s going on?”

“Later. C’mon.”

Her hands were white around the steering wheel, and he stared at them, feeling dread settle in his gut. The engine started up with a groan and he quickly ran around and jumped into the passenger side.

Before he could even reach for his seatbelt, the car lurched into action, and his head slapped into the headrest.

“Sorry,” Rose mumbled, her eyes not moving from the road as the speed only went up. He nodded frantically, quickly securing himself and then gripping tightly at the edges of the chair.

“Where are we going?” He asked, voice unnaturally high. For a moment, he thought he saw her mouth curve upwards, but within a second it was back to the same flat mask.

“Where do you think?” She scoffed. “Where else? Bad Wolf Bay.”

Their journey to Norway passed in heavy silences that were only occasionally broken by questions that Rose only ignored. He fiddled relentlessly with the cuffs of his shirt and tried to calm his stupid single heart, that pounded and screamed in his ears.

This, more than anything else, was what he hated about this world – he was never in control here, never understood what he should be doing, or what he should say. He never used to care about that stuff before. His life had always been spontaneous, he had prided himself on it in some sick, sad way, but all he could long for now was a sliver of certainty.

Was this how she would finally dump him? On the very beach they were headed towards, she had kissed him, and at the time it had felt like a hello. It seemed now it had been more of a goodbye. He had always known Rose, could always reliably understand what was going through her head at any given point. The woman he had been left with seemed like someone else entirely. A stranger, with the face of the woman he loved the most.

His whole species had died – all his family, all his friends. But this loneliness was far more insidious and hung heavily in the space between his bones.

“We’re here,” Rose said, and he startled. She jumped out of her seat and walked round to his door, flinging it open. He watched her eyes staring carefully at the space between his eyebrows. “Come on.”

“I don’t want to.”

“What, you think I’m going to drown you?”

“Well, I do now.”

She sighed. "I’m not. I promise you’re going to want to see this.”

He gazed at her, trying to understand what was behind the tense line of her mouth and her unwavering stare. Nothing revealed itself.

Unclipping his belt, he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. Rose reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards the beach.

It was hushed, only the angry crash of the waves breaking the idyllic landscape. His eyes flickered towards where it happened – where the TARDIS had landed and stranded him in this world of mystifying social cues and angry faces.

Her hand was clasped around his own tightly, as though trying to stop him from running away, but that was the last thing on his mind. It had been so long since he had held her hand. It was as comforting as it was devastating.

“Before the stars started going out,” Rose whispered, her soft voice carrying through the wind. “I was working on a way to get back.”

“The dimension canon.”

“Yeah, but other things too. We dumped them all when the canon started working.”

Her face was sad, wistful even and he squeezed her hand tightly. She startled, looking up at him, and he was alarmed by the wetness of her eyes.

“And?”

“And I’ve been working on one of them. Since…since we came back.”

His heart had literally leapt into the back of his throat. It was the only plausible explanation for the lack of air, for the way his whole body was screaming at him to go, to get out now. He hung his head and kicked at the sand.

“This is where the walls are weakest. We made a sort of, um, portal. You can just step through, see.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. With a tap of a key, a bright swirl opened around them, wind whipping around it angrily. He stepped back and pulled her with him.

“It’s not possible.”

“Same phone you gave me. Energy source from the original universe. Battery never runs out, so—”

“—so it has the power to send you back.” He finished darkly. She shook her head.

“No. Enough power to send you back.”

He thrust away from her hand and stared at her. She had tears running down her cheeks, and her eyes were wide and sad.

“No.”

“You’re not happy here.” She whispered, pulling on her earring.

“Neither are you.”

“No.” She agreed with a half-hearted chuckle.

“Rose,” he said desperately, clutching at her hands again, pressing his body as closely to hers as he could. “Rose, no. Please. I’m still the Doctor. I swear—the exact same man. I want to be here with you.”

Her hand came up and rested lightly on his cheek. He leaned into it, kissing her palm, greedily clutching at this small token of affection.

“I know,” she whispered. “Exact same man.”

“Yes! I’m him; I am exactly him—”

“The same man who left me on this beach.”

The wind from the portal settled. The sea calmed. Silence reigned.

“I stayed with you.”

“But left, as well.”

He was still clutching at her. His hands snaked around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead to his. Rose’s eyes were tightly shut. His were wide and searching.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered to her, and she only squeezed her eyes tighter, mascara leaking from her eyelashes.

“You left me, again. You didn’t even say goodbye. Why do you never say goodbye?”

“Rose—”

“I did everything I could do get back to you. Everything. Terrible things. But—” She opened her eyes and stared at him with open devastation. “You didn’t want me.”

“Of course, I did, I do.” he whispered. She ignored him.

“You just—left you here. To deal with me. To stop me trying to come back again, or whatever.” She cleared her throat and stepped out of his embrace and rubbed angrily at her eyes. “But it’s okay. I’ll stay here. I want you to be happy.”

“Rose, please.” He begged, voice breaking. He tried to grab her hand again, but she was stepping away from his embrace, arms wrapped tightly around herself. “I want to be with you. I told you, didn’t I?”

“You said you could spend your life with me.”

“Yes—yes—please. I want that. I swear I want that. He had to go; you know he had to. But I,” his face broke into a tiny, happy smile. “I got to stay.”

She stepped forwards cautiously, her hands shaking. He stayed as still as he could, resisting the urge to pull her tightly into his arms.

“You were dumped here too. You didn’t get a choice, either.” She whispered. He smiled and gently took her hand.

“I didn’t need a choice. My answer will always be you.”

She flung herself into his arms, and he clung to her desperately, nuzzling his face into her hair. Her hands were everywhere – along his back, down his arms, his neck. They clutched at his jaw and he pulled back, just a little, so he could take her in properly. There was still pain splashed across her face, but a cautious hope lit up her eyes.

“I love you.” He whispered. “Please let me.”

“Okay.” She whispered back.

She untangled herself from his embrace, and pulled out her phone, closing the portal as quickly as she’d opened it.

He offered out his hand, and she took it, a smile playing across her face.

“Together?”

“Together.” She nodded.

He pulled her away from the beach, feeling, for the first time in months, that they might just be okay.

#ive written something two days in a row.......this is how athletes must feel #fic #tentoo x rose #rose tyler #doctor who

[xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx]

Steve Rogers Imagine Part Seven

Imagine Steve comforting you after your father dies.

PAIRING:  Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

WORD COUNT: 753

SET:  The Winter Soldier

WARNINGS:  character death

BETA:  @titty-teetee​

⭃ Part Six

STEVE:  come to the ER, it’s urgent

STEVE:  it’s your dad

You nearly broke every traffic law there was to make to the hospital.  When Steve texted you and said it was about your father, and that it was urgent, you took no time to get there.

Hopping out of your car, you did not care that you had parked directly in front of the emergency room doors, when you practically ran through the hospital in search of Steve.  Fear and panic set in your stomach, as you burst through the door of where you found your Super Soldier fling waiting for.  You felt like you had gone completely numb when Steve explained how he had found your father in his apartment riddled with bullets and that he was currently in surgery.

Steve then walked you into the room where they’d allowed visitors of the patient’s to watch in on the procedure.  You silently made eye contact with Steve, and you realized that his anger from your previous betrayal was now gone and replaced with sympathy.  

You swallowed thickly, stepping up the window.

Your heart beat angrily in your chest, as you could only watch your father lying helpless on that surgery table.  It seemed as if time ticked on slowly.

“What,” you cleared your throat, trying to hold back the tears, “what happened?”

“He showed up at my place like that.”  You heard Steve say over your shoulder, in the back corner of the room where he stood.

“Who did this?”  You tried to keep your lips from trembling, not losing focus on your dad.  There was so much blood, you thought you’d be sick.

It took Steve a minute to answer you, but when he did, he whispered, “I'm not sure.”

Then time seemed to cease at the sudden sounds of alarms and monitors going off, alerting the entire room, that your father's vitals were crashing.  That's when everything spun out of control.

You began to feel yourself choking on your breath.  If possible, your heartbeat raced even faster and much angrier than before, as you looked on in slow motion.  The surrounding doctors tried all they could to revive your father's failing heart.  But it was too late.

He was dead.

“No.”  You choked, finally releasing two lonely tears down your cheeks.  “No!”  This time you screamed, hitting the glass window once they shut the curtain, blocking your view.

It didn't take much longer for you to become completely hysterical, your fist connecting to the glass window once more.  This time it gave a slight crack.  After that you didn't care about the damage you had caused in your tirade.

Your father was not supposed to die.

Not like this.

You nearly collapsed on the floor, from your violent sobbing, when a pair of strong arms, arms you knew belonged to Steve, wrapped themselves around you tightly.  He immediately pulled you close to his chest.  You didn't fight it.  You didn't fight it when he took you away from the room and out into the hallway.

When you finally turned around, still sobbing heavily, you buried your face into Steve’s broad chest.  You then felt his lips brush gently across your temple, as he caressed your hair, all while whispering ‘it's gonna be okay’.

Looking down at your father’s body covered in a white sheet, your heart completely shattered.  Steve stood behind you, a comforting hand on the small of your back.  Natasha and Agent Hill stood silently by the door, just watching.

You choked back a sob, releasing another set of tears, as you removed your hand from your father’s head, and quickly stormed out of the room.  

Wiping the tears from your face, you felt Steve was hot on your trail, when you stopped and turned around.  “I want you to tell me about the shooter.”

Steve's blue eyes barely made eye contact with you, as he swallowed thickly and shoved his hands in his jean pockets.  “He's fast and strong.  He had a metal arm.”

You listened, folding your arms across your chest.  “Why was my dad at your apartment?”

He finally looked up at you with unreadable eyes.  “I don't know.”

Something in your gut told you, he was lying.

The two of you were then interrupted by Brock Rumlow, demanding that Steve was needed back at SHIELD.

Steve looked at you once more, and you still were not able to read his eyes.  “You're a terrible liar.”  You told him, before angrily storming away from him.

TAGS:

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine

[ittybittytatertot]

Batman & The Flying Graysons—First Flight Pt. 2 (AO3 Link)

Mary pointed her toes, feeling the empty air whistle beneath them. She was used to knowing no net would catch her, but she had never flown twelve stories up across three city blocks. But in place of fear, adrenaline rushed under her skin. The thrill of the night, the wind, the mask, gripped her like her husbands’ hands on the trapeze.

She only realized she was smiling when John looked back at her and smiled in return. Her joy was his joy; that was their bond, the promise of the rings tattooed on their fingers. Their brief moment of eye contact melted into laughter as they swung upward, towards a skyscraper in the heart of downtown.

With the flutter of capes, Starling and Bluejay landed on a quiet, dark balcony. Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw Batman swing in behind him, but lose his footing on the smooth metal railing. Without thought or hesitation, Mary reached out, grabbing Bruce’s wrist to steady him.

She pulled him forward, onto the safety of solid ground. And into her personal space (it was a small balcony).

“Thanks.” Batman murmured with a hint of embarrassment.

She had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes to answer, “No problem. A trapeze artist’s job is to catch their partner.”

“Uh,” Bruce swallowed, but if he was going to say anything more, Mary would never know as John cut him off.

“A little help over here? I’m not exactly a lock-picking expert.”

Batman hastily pulled his gloved arm from Starling’s grip and slid around her to open the door. John gave her a look through his Bluejay mask, but she just shrugged her shoulders as they snuck inside.

The sparse (or as the rich would say “minimalistic”) bedroom couldn’t hold a candle to Wayne Manor, but its emptiness was indicative of wealth all the same.

Bluejay let out a low whistle and said, “So this is what wage theft can buy.”

Starling shushed her husband, “Stealth, remember?”

“Neither of you are stealthy.” Batman didn’t look up from where he was diligently inspecting an armoire even as he gestured at Bluejay and Starling’s sparky costumes.

“Mmm, maybe, but we look good.” John said, flipping his cape like it was a movie star’s long hair.

Stifling a laugh, Starling peered around the bedroom door before tiptoeing across the hall to inspect another room. She sneered at the open format kitchen with all stainless steel appliances, granite counters, and light fixtures that looked more like sculptures than ceiling lamps. This man could afford to let a whole apartment collect dust, only using it on the rare occasion he needed to sleep downtown or stash things where an oblivious spouse or an unbribed officer couldn’t find them.

The man, Tony Zucco, was the biggest lead Haly had to offer. He’d wanted to rent space to the circus back when Haly was arranging their Gotham stop. Haly backed out of the deal when he heard rumors of labor disputes—Haly was not a man who crossed picket lines—and contracted with Zucco’s competitor instead. With his mob connections, Zucco had all the means, motive, and opportunity to frame Haly.

Mary just hoped they could find hard evidence. She slowly pushed open a door, finding an office space behind it. The lush carpet and floor-to-ceiling windows were impressive, but its decor was even sparser than the bedroom. Though the desk and computer looked promising enough. Of course, Mary didn’t have any idea how to hack a password. Zucco was smart enough not to have it lying around on a sticky note. She typed in his birthday just to check, but of course that didn’t work.

The bottom drawers on the desk were locked, but the tops weren’t. Lucky her. Careful to avoid jostling the desktop or the shelves behind her, Starling ever so slowly pulled the top drawer out. It took a bit of dexterity, but she managed to tilt it just right to unlatch it from the tracks, and the drawer was free in her hands. Now, she had just enough room to peek through to the locked drawer beneath.

Sure enough, there were files, though how old they were or what they detailed she couldn’t know until she opened them up. She was about to reach for them when she felt a footstep in the room, a footstep too heavy to be either Batman or John. Trusting her gut, she jerked away.

And she was glad she did because Tony Zucco loomed over the desk, a scowl further puckering his cleft chin. Zucco reeled back for a punch, and Starling only just managed to dive out of the way with a yelp. His fist impacted the window behind her hard enough to crack it.

Tumbling over the carpet and landing on her feet, Starling ran for the office door only for Zucco to catch her around the neck. Mary’s mind whirled, trying to remember her training. Heel to his toes, elbow to his gut, spin around to free her windpipe. She was too short to really headbutt him in the jaw, but she could duck while shoving him backwards. Now Starling had enough distance for a kick that sent Zucco hurtling into his desk, which smashed into the window. The already cracked glass shattered at the weight of it. Bits of glass plummeted to the street below, and the breeze that now filled the office was much more than a simple draft.

“You’ll pay for that, bitch.” Zucco spat, chucking a paperweight at her head.

Starling dodged. Her opponent took the opening to grab her by the arm. Mary struggled against him, but his grasp was so tight she couldn’t twist her wrist. At least, not until a batarang lodged itself between two of his knuckles.

“Get away from her!”

Mary looked up to see Batman, hand at his utility belt, and her husband, who had apparently decided his fists worked just as well as his birdarangs. John jumped in front of Mary, and with a nasty crunch, Zucco’s nose suddenly had a lot less structural integrity.

Despite the blood and the pain, Zucco only stumbled back for a moment. Adrenaline, as both Graysons were well aware, was a hell of a thing. In a swift and vicious movement, he swung Bluejay onto the desk with enough force to collapse it. Starling jumped onto Zucco’s back, trying to lock him in a choke hold.

Mary’s vision blurred as she felt Zucco fling her off his back. She didn’t land on the carpet this time. Instead, she tumbled out the window into cold night air.

A cacophony of wind and traffic hit her almost as soon as the chill. Time felt fast and slow all at once, a paradox that made her muscle memory falter. Her body wanted to brace itself for impact, but her logical brain yelled for the grappling hook at her hip. Her limbs fought themselves as much as the gravity. Was this it? She thought of her husband and her son, and her gut told her to reach up.

A hand caught her forearm, and she was pulled away from the zooming cars. Mary found herself wrapping her arms around Batman’s neck, as he drew her close, one arm secure around her waist.

“You caught me.” She gasped.

It was hard to tell from under the cowl, but Bruce seemed taken aback.

“That’s what a trapeze artist’s partner is supposed to do.” He said.

“Wait, John-” Mary said when she realized they were swinging the opposite direction from the skyscraper.

“He dove for you too, I’m just the one who caught you first.” Sure enough, Mary spotted a shimmering caped figure gliding behind them.

They landed on a nearby rooftop, Bluejay following shortly after. John hit the cement running, gathering Mary into a twirling embrace. He took her head in his hands.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m okay. Yes.” Mary assured him, seeing the hints of a bruise forming on her husband’s chin. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. I can take a punch.” John joked.

“I know, my strongman.” She said lifting his mask so the beaked nose wouldn’t get in the way.

Batman stood off to the side, eyes on the skyline while Mary and John kissed. Police sirens wailed in the distance. It could have been unrelated, but it sounded like they were getting closer. Batman coughed.

“Zucco knows we’re after him now. We need to go home and restrategize.”

John slipped his mask back on, and winked at his wife, “First one to the Batmobile gets to drive?”

“You’re on.” She said, taking a running leap to the next building.

#earth 386 #ch: bruce wayne #ch: mary grayson #ch: john grayson #long post #please let the read more work on mobile

[the-blind-assassin-12]

See You in New York (part two)

A/N: The two week wait to see you again is up and Logan is thrilled to be in the Big Apple with you. (and I’m thrilled to write about it.) This boy’s got it bad. And no one’s going to feel unkissed after this part. 

Word Count: 5,220

*part one and the intro to this series services no longer required are available on my masterlist*

The alarm blared on the bedside table, bright red numbers flashing 5:45 am. Normally, he’d turn his alarm off on the weekends, enjoying the opportunity to sleep in, rolling in the sheets and pulling them up over his head to guard his closed eyes from the rising sun. But on Saturday, his first morning in New York, Logan was lying in bed, awake and alert a full twelve minutes before the buzzer sounded. City noise could be heard through the thick window panes, even up at the penthouse level. Buses, taxis and delivery vans crawled across the asphalt below, engines groaning and horns honking, trying to dislodge themselves from the traffic that had already begun to clog up the roads.  Wide awake in the city that never sleeps, Logan sighed to himself. An involuntary smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he laughed, dragging his palm over his face. I’m in deep trouble.

He leaned over onto his side and silenced the alarm, grabbing the remote that controlled the drapes. Sitting up against the oversized pillows, he pressed the button that operated window coverings and watched as they slid open, the pleats sweeping the hardwood floor as the bright white morning light came into the room. Logan looked out over the city- your city- and excitement rose in his chest all over again at the thought of spending so much time with you. It was the same wave of adrenaline that he got when he boarded the plane at LAX, when he stepped off of it at LaGuardia, and when his lips finally touched yours, the faint flavor of your vanilla coffee creamer teasing his tongue. He ran it over his bottom lip as though he could still feel yours pressed there, and tossed the remote into the down duvet where it disappeared in a cloud of white blankets and sheets with a soft thud. Deep, deep trouble. 

Combing his hand through his hair, Logan blew out a breath, recalling the way you wound your fingers through it the night before. In the two weeks since you’d left California, Logan had spent more and more time thinking about you and how it would feel to finally get you as close as he wanted, to finally fill his hands with your curves and cover your lips with his. He thought about what it would be like to have someone in his arms that actually cared about him; someone who he’d admitted that he was falling for. Falling hard and fast. He thought about how you were the first person he’d allowed himself to think about this way.

Sitting up in bed, he pulled the sheets back to swing his legs over the side, planting his feet on the plush area rug. His hair fell free over his forehead as he stood, acknowledging the slight tenting in his boxer briefs with a shake of his head and a laughing sigh. Hard and fast alright. He gingerly strode over to his luggage and rifled through it to find a pair of loose fitting black basketball shorts and a dark gray tee. He pulled them on and grabbed a pair of socks and his sneakers, his phone, earbuds and room key, and headed for the gym to work off some of his excitement.  

But after two sets of push ups, dips, crunches and mountain climbers, Logan found that his morning workout routine was only fueling his thoughts. Every time he bent his elbows to 90 degrees, he saw your smile as you looked sideways at him, walking through the airport. Each time he lifted himself, locking his arms, he felt your forearm pressed against his, your fingers twined together. He recounted the entire evening with every curl, lift and press; your hand in his as you waited at baggage claim, the weight and warmth of it traveling through his veins and finding its way to his heart, the easy, comfortable way you chatted about your day and asked questions about his flight as though this were the hundredth time you’d met him at the arrivals gate. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel, grinning like a fool in the mirror as he replayed the moment that he told you he’d changed his reservation from the Four Seasons downtown to the Conrad, right in The Battery.

..  .. ..  .. ..  

“Alright, that all your luggage?” You motioned to the carry-on he had on his shoulder as well as the small, sleek black hard shell suitcase equipped with wheels and a pull handle, taking your phone from your pocket and Logan nodded. “I’ll call a ride. Four Seasons, right?” You hadn’t looked up from the app, tapping buttons to enter the destination when his hand covered your screen, fingers closing around your phone.

“Conrad,” he corrected you, smirk lifting one side of his mouth before his tongue came out to glide over his lips. He watched your eyes widen, delighting in the surprise that his change of plans had put there. “It’s closer. Closer to you, and you’re why I’m here. Don’t wanna sit in traffic for half an hour every time I’m gonna see you.” Don’t want to waste a second.

You bit your bottom lip before breaking into a smile, your eyes locked on his. “Good call, Delos,” you said, winking at him and pulling your phone back from his grasp to enter the new destination. You finalized the ride order and shoved your phone back in your pocket. “ETA says 5 minutes,” you told him, “We should head towards the pick-up spot.”

“After you,” he answered, trailing his suitcase behind him as you started walking. He reached for your hand with his free one, feeling your startled jump as he took it, enjoying the way your palm melded with his and the little tug you gave him.

“Oh, by the way,” you looked sideways at him as he fell into step next to you. He watched as the airflow from the pressurized doors that lead outside lifted a few strands of your hair as you walked through them, your fingers flying up to tuck it back into place. “Cynthia approved my time off request for Monday.” That’s good…because I have plans for you on Monday. Logan squeezed your hand as you continued.  “I stayed late today, finished up a few reports, switched some things on my schedule…but I know it’s your last day here and,” you shrugged, coming to a stop along the sidewalk where the designated Uber pick-up sign indicated. It’s not my last day anymore but I’ll take all the time I can get. “I wanted to make the most of it. Make the most of my time,” you rose up on your toes to meet his lips with yours and it was his turn to be caught off guard. “With you.” You ran your fingers through his hair before dropping flat to your feet again.

Logan caught your hand on its way back to your side, kissing your palm and grinning against your skin. “Good,” he said. Cause I want every minute. “More time for this.” Setting his suitcase down and letting the carry-on slump off of his shoulder to sit on top of the larger luggage, he slid one hand around to the back of your neck, right at the base of your skull. The other pulled your hand until your chest was pressed against his, releasing his grip as your palm landed on his hip. The city lights blinked and flashed, neons in every color, arrows and marquis highlighting restaurants, theatres, businesses and attractions, the sounds of cars and crowds filling the night. But it all faded as Logan kissed you for a second time, feeling you respond with just as much hunger. He’d kissed countless sets of lips, held innumerable bodies close to his, shared breath with men and women, humans and Hosts. But never had it been as thrilling, as satisfying, as right as it felt with you. Never had anyone kissed him back with anything more than lust or their own personal pleasure on their mind. But you’d spent six months getting to know him on a much deeper level than any of his former flings, and when you kissed him he felt a rush that was entirely new to him. This time he let both of his hands frame your face as his lips parted yours, tongue slipping into your mouth, taking it further than the first one had gone. It was next to impossible, but he stopped himself again from letting it progress passed the point of decency, even though he was certain he’d just found the last addiction he’d ever be at the mercy of. Take it slow, Delos, he reminded himself as he exhaled through his nose and peeled himself away from you. “More time to get to know you,” he said against your lips. Every part, every inch.

You sighed, dreamily. “More of that sounds good to me, Logan,” you leaned into his shoulder as his arm came around you, and he was again struck by how different it felt to have you this close to him after keeping you at such a distance for so long.

The urban symphony of screeching brakes, wailing sirens and groaning bus engines picked back up as a black sedan pulled up right in front of where you were standing. You confirmed that it was your ride, the driver hopping out and hurrying around to take Logan’s bags, stowing them in the trunk. Logan opened the back door for you, his hand automatically going to your elbow to help you in. You scooted across the seat as he got in next to you, his arm going around your shoulders to bring you close again as you beamed at him. Can’t get enough of that.

Once the driver had confirmed your destination and made the obligatory small talk, he turned the radio up a few notches and left the two of you in peace for the rest of the 38 minute drive through Manhattan. You looked over at him, and even though it was almost 10pm, he saw the shine in your eyes as you smiled, cutting through the darkness. “Hey,” you said softly, “I’m really glad you’re here, Logan.”

He felt his heart flip, a warm wave crashing through his chest, and he almost laughed at himself for how easily you affected him. “Me too,” he trailed his fingers up and down your tricep, soaking up every bit of contact that he could. “I could barely concentrate in my meetings this morning…almost cancelled them to get here sooner.” But I changed my travel plans enough already.

You blew out a laugh with a playful role of your eyes. “I’m sure whoever the meeting was with was glad that you didn’t cancel.”

He wrinkled his nose and curled his upper lip. “It was just a few other executives, different divisions. Can’t stand most of them to be honest with you.”

You reached up to touch the tip of his nose and he relaxed, the look of disgust vanishing under your touch. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Only sometimes,” he made to bite your finger as you laughed again, giving him a light smack on the arm. Only when it comes to you.  

You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, concealing a small yawn, grinning through it and apologizing. “C’mon, you’re not being a buzzkill already, are you?” He teased, turning to tuck the bridge of his nose against your temple before dragging it up until he replaced it with his lips, leaving a light peck there. The scent of your hair nearly overwhelmed him, and he took advantage of your yawn to inhale deeply.

“Some of us aren’t on West Coast Time, Delos, and some of us have been up since before the sun,” you reminded him, swallowing another yawn. Lips pressed together, you were determined not to let it out. Logan smiled, feeling his eyes shrink behind his cheeks. 

“Well I won’t keep you out too late tonight, promise.” Tomorrow though, that’s another story. “Think you can make it through a nightcap, killjoy?” 

Before you could answer, another yawn broke free pulling a genuine laugh from Logan that you joined in on once you’d sucked up more oxygen. “Yeah,” you nodded through your laughter. “Yeah I think I can stick it out.”

“What a trooper.”  

..  .. ..  .. ..  

After an hour in the gym, Logan headed back upstairs, sweat soaked towel slung around his neck and over both shoulders. The lobby was relatively quiet, just a few front desk employees and one or two exhausted souls on the hunt for coffee. Logan nodded and offered a polite “Good morning” to the few people that he passed as he made his way to the elevator. As he reached for the button to bring him to the penthouse level, the sound of high heels clicking against the floor caught his ear, followed by a frantic female voice.

“Wait! Hold it, please!”

Logan quickly pressed the hold button to suspend the doors as the owner of the voice came around the corner and into view. She was young: mid-twenties, average height and a slim waist with curves above and below it. Her red lips were perfectly painted, wavy hair swept off to one shoulder to show off a stunning pair of diamond stud earrings. Wearing a tight blue pencil skirt with a sheer white top and toting a leather briefcase, it was clear that she was dressed for work. On a Saturday… that’s dedication. She spilled into the elevator, nearly out of breath from her sprint through the lobby, and stopped breathing altogether when she laid her eyes on Logan.

“Oh!” She squeaked in surprise, gaze trailing up his long frame. “Thank you, I-“ she stuttered, openly staring as her eyes traveled up to his chest and the outline of the muscles that were visible beneath his shirt. “I’m running late and waiting for the elevator would…” she blew out a breath that turned into a nervous laugh. “You saved me!”

Damsel in distress. Logan had her pegged the moment he heard her heels down the hall, but her dramatics and the wide eyed way she was regarding him like some white knight in a fairy tale confirmed his diagnosis. “Don’t mention it,” he said with a smile, despite the inward roll of his eyes. “What floor?” He pointed to the circular buttons, the 15 already lit up.

Her eyes flicked to the keypad, noticing which floor he’d selected. “Twelve please,” she licked her lips and smiled while Logan nodded and pressed the number 12. “Thanks,” she said, smoothing her skirt out, hands lingering longer than necessary on her hips as she did. The elevator car started to move and Logan adjusted his stance to accommodate the shift in balance, the damsel reaching for the hand rail, just an inch or so shy of where his hand was. “I have this meeting this morning for a case I’m working on. I’m really nervous about it, I’m new to the office and I want to do everything right.” She batted her long lashes and pressed her lips together to plump them. Trying too hard isn’t the way to do things right. “Left my laptop plugged in to charge in my room and, well… if you hadn’t stopped the elevator, I’d probably miss my meeting and,” she sighed, another half laugh. “Anyway, I’m Kylie,” she stuck her hand out as she introduced herself.

“Logan, nice to meet you,” he took her hand and shook it once, immediately letting go even though she kept his palm in hers for a fraction longer. This elevator can’t move quickly enough. “Good luck with your meeting, Kylie.” He gave her a closed lipped smile as the lights above the door showed floor 8-9-10.

“Thanks,” she leaned against the railing, her shirtsleeve brushing against his arm. He avoided contact by gripping the towel around his neck, eyes darting up to the numbers. Let’s go, come on. The old Logan would have either told her to fuck off or pressed the stop button and fucked her right there between the 11th and 12th floors. But after working with you to improve his image, he found that the old Logan wasn’t who he wanted to be anymore, even if the niceties were sometimes inconvenient. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you around, Logan. Maybe we can get a drink later tonight after my meetings?” The door slid open but she didn’t move, just blinked at him as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Logan cleared his throat. Absolutely fucking not. “I’m actually seeing someone, so I’m going to have to pass on that drink. But thanks for the offer. Have a nice day.” He kept his lips in a firm line as he looked from her to the open doors. Reluctantly, she returned the sentiment and exited the elevator, shooting him one last look over her shoulder. The doors closed leaving Logan alone again and he sighed, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, could she be more desperate?” he mumbled to himself, half amused with Kylie’s clear attempts to get in his pants, half amused with how much he’d changed. The doors opened again on the 15th floor and he exited, still shaking his head.

He let himself back into his room, setting his card key down on the small coffee table in the sitting area before heading for the shower. He tossed the sweaty towel on the bathroom floor, letting it smack against the tile as he peeled his gym clothes off and kicked them off to the side. Logan reached into the stall to turn on the water, and waited a few seconds for it to heat up before stepping under the rainfall showerhead. He stretched his back until he felt a small pop with the release of a knot, then stepped into the stall, the warm water washing away the sweat and all remaining residue of the elevator interaction with Kylie. As the droplets ran between his shoulder blades and soaked his hair, his thoughts returned again to you and the events of the previous night.

..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  

The driver pulled up in front of the impressive red brick building, the chrome colored marquis and large letters boasting the hotel’s name vibrantly lit against the night. Logan got out of the car first, offering you his hand as the driver scurried to the trunk to grab his bags. Your fingers were light on his palm as he helped you out onto the sidewalk, giving you a grin as you closed the car door behind you. “Thanks,” you said, mirroring his grin. He answered by bringing your hand to his lips with a wink as the driver set his luggage on the curb.

Logan reluctantly pulled his focus from you and turned to the driver, pulling a $50 bill out of his wallet and handing it to the wide eyed man who sputtered with gratitude before getting back into his vehicle. He turned back to you, offering his hand again, linking his fingers with yours. “Shall we?” He cocked his head towards the doors and you nodded as he picked up his bags. A uniformed employee sprang to open the doors for the two of you, welcoming you to The Conrad, and Logan felt a rush of excitement, the whole trip becoming more real now that he was inside the hotel with you by his side. He turned to face you, dropping your hand and placing both of his on your shoulders, letting them run down your arms. “I’m gonna go check in and get rid of these,” he shrugged towards the bag on his shoulder and the one at his feet. “Why don’t you wait for me at the bar, and I’ll be right there.”

“Sounds good, Logan, see you in a minute,” you turned to head for the stairs that lead up to the bar but he pulled your wrist, spinning you back into him and causing a tingling laugh to spill from your soul and your free hand to fall to his chest. It brightened his heart.

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, voice low as he stroked the inside of your wrist with the pads of his fingers, locking his eyes on yours. Now that he could look at you the way he wanted, could touch you and feel your body against his own, could intoxicate himself with your lips and tongue, he didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not even for a few minutes. But he hadn’t told you about his extended stay yet, and he wanted it to be a surprise so he let go of your wrist and swallowed as he watched you head towards the staircase before making his way to the front desk for check-in.  He turned his bags over to the bellhop, along with another fifty from his wallet before following in the direction you’d just gone in.

Atrio, the hotel bar, was situated a few floors up, and he took the stairs two at a time in some places, long legs trying to get him back to you as quickly as possible. As he reached the entry, he undid the button on his jacket and his focus fell on you. You were sitting at the bar, your back turned to the entrance, and he took a moment to drink in the sight of you beneath the low lights. He saw your shoulders shake as you laughed at something the bartender said, the man passing two darkly colored cocktails to you as you thanked him. You stirred one with the small plastic garnish skewer as you turned slowly towards where he stood, smile brightening your face with more light than the bulbs hanging overhead. Logan’s heart beat out of rhythm as he walked over to you. This is really happening. We’re really… this is real. Miraculously, he kept completely cool, pulling out the chair beside you and leaning in to leave a quick kiss to your cheek. “Hey, stranger,” he said. “You come here often?”

You laughed as he sat down, passing him his drink. “Once before, but I’ve never seen you here.” Biting your lip you looked up at him through your lashes. “Guess it’s my lucky night.” You couldn’t keep up the façade any longer, breaking into a laugh that curved your lips around the sound.  

Logan took the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours against the cool rim of the glass. “Nah, I’m the lucky one,” he said, lifting his glass. “To New York,” he toasted. To you.

“New York,” you said, clinking your glass to his and taking a sip.

Logan did the same, the rich flavor of bourbon mixing with berries, mint and a slight hint of almond. That’s fantastic. “What are we drinking?” he asked you.

“In honor of your change in reservations,” you pointed to the menu at the cocktail labeled The Battery and Logan chuckled.  

“How apropos,” he responded. “Hope you didn’t mind that I didn’t tell you about the change in plans,” he shrugged. “Wanted to surprise you.” I have a few more up my sleeve, too.

“It’s okay, Logan, I like surprises…good ones,” you clarified and he chuckled again.

“Noted.” That’s one thing I didn’t know before today. “So, I was thinking,” you set your drink down on the square napkin in front of you, eyes on him and arms folded over the bar top. “You know a lot more about me than I know about you.” You nodded, raising your eyebrow. “Well I wanna change that, level the playing field so to speak.” You laughed with a small shake of your head. “What? You got a whole file on me and all my secrets,” he raised his glass to his lips, eyeing you over the top of it. “I wanna know you as well as you know me.” And then some.     

“Seems fair, Delos,” you turned in your seat so that your body was squared with him and perpendicular to the bar. “But let’s make it fun.” Your eyes twinkled mischievously and he had to hold back a groan at the thought of how much fun he wanted to have with you. “I’ll tell you three things about me, and you tell me which one is a lie.”

“Alright,” Logan ran his bottom teeth along his lip. “Let her rip.” He took another sip of his drink as you thoughtfully looked up at the ceiling, trying to come up with your three statements.

“Okay, got it.” You took a drink, licking the spare drops from your lip, causing Logan to wonder how much better it tasted on your skin. “I have two younger brothers, I’ve never been out of the country, and my favorite holiday is the Fourth of July.” You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes.

“Really?” Logan sat back in his chair, casually leaning his elbow against the seat. “You’ve never been out of the country?”

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “That was… how did you…”

Logan laughed. “I’ve always been able to tell when people are lying, and that one was definitely the lie. So what’s your favorite foreign city?”

“Barcelona,” you answered, and he nodded appreciatively, telling you that he loved it there as well. He asked you about your brothers and about your favorite way to celebrate the 4th, both of you taking periodic sips from your drinks.

“Okay, round two,” he said, “try to gimme a hard one this time.”

“A challenge, Delos?” You asked, finishing your beverage. “Alright. Let’s see you figure this one out.” You shook your hair back from your shoulders and he caught the scent of your shampoo on the air. This is already a challenge. He was having a hard time keeping his hands and lips to himself, fighting with himself about taking you upstairs and learning different kinds of things. “I did a triathlon for charity, I broke my hand punching my sister’s ex in the face,” Logan’s eyes lit up in an amused fashion at that one. “And I’m allergic to peanuts.”

“Oof, peanuts, that’s a tough one,” he said, expertly picking one of the truths off without having to think. He eyed you carefully as he finished his drink. “I’m curious what your sister’s ex did to get punched. But you don’t strike me as a swimmer, so the triathlon is out.”

“How are you so good at this?” You laughed, looking down at your empty glasses.

He shrugged. “Just one of my many talents, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes. God I can’t get enough of that. When you were working for him, the roll of your eyes or the suggestion of something he didn’t want to do annoyed him in that it didn’t annoy him at all. And now, he was looking for ways to make you roll your eyes because he liked what it did to him. The bartender came by and asked if you wanted another round.

“What do you think, Logan?” You looked to him for an answer.

Yes. I don’t want the night to end yet. But you yawned again, and he looked down at his watch, the hands pointing towards 12. “As much as I wanna keep picking out your lies,” he scrunched his nose as he smiled. “I think I better get you home before you pass out on the bar.” You smacked his knee as you tried and failed to stifle another yawn. He placed his card on the bar and the bartender took it, running the payment and handing it back to Logan who signed it without looking, leaving a 100% tip.

You stood from your seat and Logan did the same, reaching for your hand the moment that you were both up and out of your chairs. It had only been a few hours, but he was already more used to the feel of your palm pressed to his than he should be. “Can I walk you home?” he asked, “It’s late and-“

You nodded, rising on your toes to kiss him like you had earlier in the night. “What a gentleman,” you said against the corner of his mouth. He grinned and let go of your hand to slip his arm around your waist, leading you out of the bar and back down the mahogany staircase.

Once the two of you stepped outside, Logan turned to you. “You’re gonna have to lead the way here.”

“No problem,” you smiled. “This way,” you said, tilting your head in the direction of the waterfront. “Let’s walk passed the park.”

The way was lined with well-manicured shrubs and a fence, the river visible passed the waterfront park. Lights in shades of pastels in the distance caught Logan’s attention. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing.

“Oh!” You smiled at him, pressing closer with excitement. “We can go there tomorrow. That’s the Sea Glass carousel, it’s beautiful, one of my favorite things in The Battery. Instead of horses, they’re all fish and the whole thing is encased in glass and… well, you’ll see.”

He smiled and squeezed you closer. “Can’t wait.”

The walk was quick, just a few minutes, and before you knew it you were standing in front of your building. “Well, this is me,” you said, opening your arms wide. Before you could drop them he stepped closer, sliding his arms beneath yours and pulling you into a tight hug.

He could feel your heart beat against his own chest, and the uneven rhythm made his soar. “I’m looking forward to the next few days with you,” he said, one hand sliding up between your shoulder blades, the other pressed to the small of your back. “Thank you, for saying yes.”

“That makes two of us, Logan,” you whispered into his shirt. “And of course I said yes, I…”

He gave a squeeze to cut you off, sensing that you were about to say something a little too serious for the sidewalk. He pressed his lips to the top of your head and rubbed both hands over your back, indicating the end of the embrace. “I’ll see you bright and early, okay? I want to take you for breakfast, I…” he looked down at his shoes before looking back up and meeting your eyes. “You said once that there’s a French Bakery around here that you liked so I looked it up and… Can you meet me there at 8 tomorrow?”

Your shocked expression was more than enough to promise the sweetest dreams. “You remembered…” Of course I did. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll see you at 8. Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight, buzzkill,” he leaned down and gave you a quick kiss. Ending it was the hardest thing he’d done since getting clean, but he did. Tomorrow's gonna be even better. He watched you disappear into your building before turning back towards the hotel. The stars weren’t visible in the sky behind the pollution of the city lights, but he felt them beneath his feet as he headed back to The Conrad. I am in trouble.    

.

.

.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @belladonnarey @ymariejp @obscurilicious @songtoyou @gollyderek @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @drinix 

If you’d like to be added or removed just let me know! :) 

#see you in new york #SYiNY #Logan Delos #Logan Delos x Reader #Logan Delos x You #logan delos fanfiction #logan westworld #westworld au #logan delos au

[lighterandpaper]

Killer Mr. Jackson

Photo by @henmankk

Right as Judah falls into sleep, David wakes him with a shove. The sound of Mom snoring fills the silence now, and David nods, like, it’s time. He moves to the window of their shared room. 

“The alarm,” Judah says. 

David smiles, like, oh my god, just you wait. Two little off-white plastic boxes need to be near one another in order for the alarm not to be going off and Mom and Dad to not be awake. David grips the one stuck to the pane and carefully wiggles it until the adhesive gives up, and he re-sticks it to the other plastic box. He opens the window, like, fuck you, window. 

They crawl out of the window and step in the muddy place where the rain pours from the roof when it is raining. As it is, it’s one of those Louisiana winter nights that might as well be summer. The air conditioning unit cranks up and David scrambles to get back in the house, scraping his knee in his total hysteria. 

“It’s just the fan thing,” Judah says. 

David busies himself closing the window and limping around, like, yeah I know, it’s cool. 

The big, wooden fence blocks their path now, keeping people out of the alley between Honey’s and their house, as well as keeping David and Judah from getting out. David goes to the fence and plants a knee--the good one--and cups his other two hands over his thigh. He nods, like, you know what to do. 

Judah hesitates, and considers the other boys in his class who wouldn’t hesitate. Fighting against the perception of himself as the sort of boy unable to climb a rope or bench-press the big bar, he just goes for it. Getting what he asked for totally surprises David, whose face cranes away from the muddy shoe in his hands. Judah manages, with little help from David, to grip the top of the fence. His feet clamber impotently at the smooth wood. David rushes to push his butt, which allows him to get a grip a struggle over. Once at the top, he wishes he wasn’t. The fence threatens to castrate him, and his arms threaten to give up at any moment. He wobbles, and then tumbles, not totally ungracefully, to the other side. 

“Now how do you get over?” whispers Judah, rubbing his reddened hands. 

David takes a step back, leaps, and pulls himself to the top in one fluid motion. He’s older than Judah, so that makes a difference. Judah could probably do better if given another chance, he thinks. He makes a show of guiding David down without touching him. 

They find themselves in the front yard in the middle of the night, which is unheard of to the boys. They bask, silently celebrating by walking around with their hands up, like they are in Shawshank Redemption. David sucks in to hiss, bending over to look at his scraped knee. 

“What’s the plan to rescue Sampson?” Judah says. 

David looks up from his knee, like, are you kidding? “Are you kidding?” he says. “We just pulled the plan off.” 

Judah looks across the street to South, the mental hospital. Actually, there is just a road that leads into the woods. At the beginning of the road, there is a traffic stopper with a little booth, which would be attended during the day. As it is, no one is there, and it is easy to imagine a ghostly figure working the gate, or a demon lurking in the woods, or a loose bear. “Yeah,” Judah says. “So we just walk in there?” 

“What’s going to stop us?” David says, genuinely asking more than he expected. 

Judah crosses the yard. He gets to the road, and looks back to find David hasn’t moved. “Are you coming?” 

“This is a bad idea,” David says. “Sampson is in there for a reason. Let’s go to bed, we have school on Monday.” 

“It’s Thursday,” Judah says, “And are you really about to give up on Sampson?” 

“No,” David says, like, yes. 

“Alright, well go back. I’m going to find him,” Judah says. He looks both ways to cross the road, which won’t have another car on in until 5 am. It’s The Village of Lee, and about two thousand people live in the greater metropolitan area. They do have the only red-light in the parish. 

“Fine!” David says, hurrying to catch up to his little brother. “I need a drink!” he says, having heard this on TV. 

They approach the gate, which is only meant to keep out cars, and only symbolically at that. But they stop at its precipice anyway, gazing at the empty booth, which has a sad little light on in it. Judah ducks under the red and white striped arm-thing and carries on down the wooded road. 

“Hey!” David says. “Can we slow down and think, maybe!” 

“I don’t wanna wait until I’m too scared,” Judah says. 

David jogs to catch up. “Mom would kill me if you got killed by a crazy guy out here.” 

Very occasionally, a pale-yellow street light pops out from the trees to guide their way. The road goes on for a while, until it opens up on a playground filled with brightly colored, and currently abandoned, equipment. A slide, a spinning thing you can sit on, and some monkey bars with rubber mats under them. 

“Why do they have a playground?” Judah says, as if it is a personal affront.

“Crazy kids?” David suggests. Past the playground, sit white cinder block buildings where the patients are housed. Window units rumble on and off, beyond a few of them are the flickering blue-lights of TV. “Don’t you remember this?” David asks. 

Judah shakes his head, eyes wide and fixed. 

“We came here once to visit Sampson, and we played on this playground. His room was right there.” He points to one of the buildings. “I bet he’s still in that one.” 

They go to that one. The TV flickers on the inside. Judah raises his hand to knock, almost equally terrified of continuing to be alone out here, and finding out that his brother is not behind this door. He knocks. 

“I have twenty more minutes,” says the voice, the deep, nasal, drawl that was certainly Sampson. David squeals in his ear and shakes him, and Judah knocks again, more excitedly. 

“What!” Sampson says, opening the door. He looks everywhere but down for a moment. “... Are you kids doing here?”

“We came to bust you out!” David says. 

Sampson smiles his easy smile. “You did, huh? Your mom know where you are?”

“Duh, no,” David says, practically crawling over Judah. 

“Alright,” he says. He steps back in, grabs a cigarette, a lighter, keys, and his phone. “Let’s get y’all back to the house before I get in more trouble, OK?” 

“You can leave?” Judah asks. 

“I’m a trustee,” he says, patting his head. “But if they catch me gone, that could change.” He lights his cigarette. “Y’all don’t want that, do you?” 

“No!” they say. 

“Alright,” he says, taking a drag. “Let’s get y’all home.” He leads them back down the street they came, plumes of smoke rising from time to time. 

“We thought this was more like jail,” David says. “We wanted to bust you out.” 

Sampson chuckles. “Yeah? How were you going to do that?” 

“I don’t know! I got us out of the house, didn’t I?” David jumps. 

Judah follows a little farther behind, stomach upset. 

They arrive at the end of the road, and there is a beat up truck parked there now. “Was this here when y’all came?” Sampson asks, stopping them with his arm. 

“No!” David says. 

“Look,” Judah says, pointing. There is a big man walking across their yard, talking and gesturing as if there is someone with him, but there is no one. 

“Who is that?” Sampson says, taking a drag as he squats behind the car, making sure the boys do the same. 

“That’s my history teacher, Mr. Jackson,” Judah says, recognizing his unmistakable waddle. He’s dressed in shabby jeans and a button-down, but he’s got his civil war musket. 

“Why does he have a gun?” Sampson says, hush falling on his voice. 

“What the hell is going on?” David says. 

Sampson shushes him and spins on his toes. “Y’all stay right here and don’t move a muscle, alright?” He stands, puffing his chest. Running back on the football team in high school, the posture comes right back to him. He starts across the street, not looking, flicking his cigarette angrily as he goes, red embers glittering the street. 

Mr. Jackson arrives at the front door, unaware of the young man approaching behind him. He lifts his orthopedic black shoe and kicks the door with incredible strength. It flings open like a toy. The alarm goes off. “About two minutes, Graham,” Mr. Jackson says. 

“Hey!” Sampson shouts, his body seeming to inflate to twice its normal size. “Get the fuck away from there!” 

Mr. Jackson turns, easily and slowly. “Oh?” he says. “What a pleasant surprise. I thought I was going to have to make another stop on this warm, winter’s night.” The boys can just make out his words from behind the car where they hide. 

Sampson charges him. Mr. Jackson carefully raises his musket, pulls back the lever, and fires. 

Just like when they had gone to see the reenactment, blood and sinew erupt from the spot where the ball strikes. Sampson stops in his tracks. Judah can almost believe for a moment that it isn’t real, because it wasn’t real the other day. But the way Sampson falls, he knows it is real. He jolts to run to him, but David catches him and covers his mouth. “He said to stay, he said to stay,” David says. 

Mr. Jackson laughs, and turns to go inside. A few moments later, two more flashes and bang erupt from inside the house. A moment after that, another. 

Mr. Jackson steps out of the house, this time joined by another man; a man that Judah recognizes at Graham, from the reenactment. They start toward the boys. 

“We have to run away,” David says. 

“But... Mom...” Judah says. 

“We have to run away. They are coming this way.” David lifts his little brother, and they run into the woods. 

#killer #writeblr #civilghost #wip #killed family #short story #short fiction #chapter a day #chapter 3 #daily writing #keepwriting #fiction #fantasy

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, angelwingz1983

May 9-Continuation of the Marvel Birthday from 09 May last year, staying with TaserBones using the fact Brock asked Darcy on a first date, which ends up being an impromptu mission (trouble finds them, they deal with it). Prompts can be "I think...everyone deserves a chance to proves themselves"; "I can't help that I'm curious"; "Look, I don't want to swear but, What the frick!"; "That's an order. Obey" and "Next problem, we might die." for @angelwingz1983

Continued from https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529231/chapters/33730062

Written by @ozhawkauthor

“So, what would you like for dinner?” Brock asked as they headed down to street level in the elevator.

Darcy considered. “Not sushi,” she said. “I do like it, but I had plenty in Japan.”

“This is New York,” he pointed out. “You can have any kind of cuisine you want.”

“Well, you’ve been living here. What do you recommend?”

“Anywhere with an all-you-can-eat buffet,” he said, deadpan. “Gotta keep that supersoldier metabolism stoked.”

Darcy looked at him uncertainly, not sure whether or not he was joking until he grinned. “It’s okay, Darcy. Unless I’m actually been doing major exertion, I don’t eat any more than your regular Joe with a healthy appetite. There’s a really good Spanish tapas place I know in the Village, how does that sound?”

“Delicious,” she admitted. “How will we get there?”

“By the time we reach the Tower doors, I’ve no doubt the ever-efficient FRIDAY will have a Lyft waiting for us. Isn’t that right, FRIDAY?”

The elevator pinged, the doors slid open smoothly, and FRIDAY said in a voice Darcy could have sworn was almost flirtatious “Of course, Mr Rumlow. Have a nice evening.”

“Even the AI’s got a crush on you.” Darcy shook her head as they exited the building. “What chance have I got?”

Brock held the car door open for her to get in. “None, I hope.” He flashed that wicked, panty-melting grin at her before closing the door and moving around the car to get in on the other side.

“None whatsoever,” Darcy muttered while he was outside the car. “I’m so screwed.”

“Wish I was. Hot damn.” The Lyft driver met her eyes in the mirror. “That guy’s a stud.”

Darcy was still snickering when Brock got into the car, though she shook her head when he asked her what was so funny. He didn’t press. Just smiled and placed his hand down on the car seat in between them, palm up, fingers lightly curled.

It only took a moment for Darcy to decide to accept the unspoken invitation. His hand was very warm, she quickly discovered, the enormous strength in his fingers evident but leashed as they curled gently around hers.

For once, Darcy was disappointed the traffic was light and the drive to the Village didn’t take long. Her hand felt cold once Brock let it go, but he took it again as they walked into the restaurant, and she edged closer to him instinctively.

A sudden, shockingly loud noise behind them made Brock whirl, putting himself instinctively between Darcy and danger.

“Look, I don’t want to swear, but what the frick?” Darcy said.

Brock could think of a lot of real swear words as he watched the enormous blue gorilla stalking up the street towards them, swiping around it with arms which had to be at least twenty feet long, flinging cars out of its way with casual ease as it came. He didn’t waste his breath on any of them, though. Instead, he turned to Darcy and said;

“Call FRIDAY and get everyone here, now.”

“What will you do?” Darcy asked, but she was talking to empty air. Brock had whirled on his heel and was sprinting down the street towards the gorilla, moving quite a lot faster than any enhanced human could possibly hope to - and without anything even resembling a weapon in his hands.

“Oh, I see,” Darcy said. “Being a goddamn hero.”

She had to take a deep breath and dash an inexplicable tear from her eye before she could pull her phone out. Around her, everyone already had theirs up, filming the action and excitedly asking each other if they knew who ‘that guy’ was who’d just scaled a lamppost, snapped the top of it off and leaped to the gorilla’s shoulder before stabbing it in the neck with the broken piece of metal.

“War Machine and the Scarlet Witch are already en route, Miss Lewis, and should be at your location in less than a minute,” FRIDAY said calmly as soon as the line connected. “I have also contacted Dr. Strange who will be with you momentarily.”

Darcy winced as the gorilla threw Brock across the street, sending him through a plate-glass window with a terrible crashing of glass before beating its chest and roaring with rage. “Thanks, FRIDAY,” she said absently. “Oh, God, please be alright, Brock,” she whispered, holding her breath until he emerged from the shattered window at a run.

“Yeah, you go, dude!” a guy next to her shouted as Brock charged straight back into the fight.

“Hot damn, who is that guy?” everyone was asking each other. War Machine came screaming down the street past them, pulling upright just out of range of the gorilla’s flailing arms.

Wanda leaped down gracefully, red light blazing around her hands, and called out “Get down, Bones!”

Brock let go of the ear he’d been attempting to stab his lamppost stub into - it was keeping the gorilla’s attention on him, rather than doing any more damage to the area - and leaped, tucking and rolling before he hit the ground.

“Jeez, he must have just dropped fifty feet,” a girl behind Darcy marvelled.

“Did she call him Bones? That must be Crossbones! Quick, he’s not wearing his mask, get a shot of his face!”

“Oh my gawd, he’s hot as fuck.”

“He’s coming this way!”

Wanda had pulled some sort of mind whammy on the gigantic blue gorilla, which was now sitting down in the middle of the street rocking back and forth and… crooning? Darcy shook her head, turning her attention back to Brock, who looked remarkably uninjured for someone who’d just fought a clearly unnatural being to a standstill while waiting for reinforcements.

“Crossbones?” someone yelled, and Brock’s confident stride stuttered for a moment. He looked at Darcy, who shook her head, letting him know she hadn’t told anyone.

“Sometimes,” he said.

“What’s your real name?” Everyone was pressing closer with their phones, trying to get a good look at him.

“Now that would be telling. ‘Scuse me. Hey, beautiful.”

The girl next to Darcy jumped forward eagerly, a big smile on her pretty face. Brock looked at her blankly.

“Sorry, not you.”

“What? Why?” the girl scowled, obviously not used to being passed over. She was a stunner, Darcy acknowledged, tall, blonde and model-thin, probably an actual model considering her clothes. She’d look great on Brock’s arm.

“Because I already have a date, and you’re standing in front of her.”

The girl turned to look Darcy up and down with obvious disbelief, gaze snagging on her overlarge, chunky sweater with the frayed hem, leggings which were pouched out slightly at the knees and purple Doc Martens which she’d had since she started college. “Her?”

Brock looked offended at the girl’s disbelieving tone. “Yes, her,” he said repressively, walked around the blonde when she didn’t seem inclined to get out of the way, and offered Darcy his hand. “I’m sorry about all… this,” he gestured helplessly around them.

“It’s okay.” Darcy took his hand, ignoring the phones pointed in their direction, the people pressing close, calling questions to both of them. “Can we get out of here?”

“Probably a good idea,” Brock agreed. A golden portal spun into life between them and the gorilla, who was now petting Wanda’s hair, and he led Darcy towards it quickly. “Hey, Wong. Mind if we take a shortcut?”

“Go for it,” Wong agreed, and a moment later they were standing in the quiet of the Sanctum, the portal winking out behind them, leaving them alone, staring at each other.

“So I really hope this isn’t a bad omen or anything,” Brock started, “and you’ll be willing to maybe try again for a first date oof.”

His attempts at an apology were cut off as Darcy flung her arms around his neck and mashed her lips against his.

“That,” she panted between kisses, “was the bravest, stupidest, most heroic, most idiotic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Mixed messages,” Brock noted, but he wrapped his arms around her and returned her kisses with interest.

A polite cough broke them apart a couple of minutes later, and they both looked around to see Doctor Strange standing watching them.

“Could I possibly offer you a room?” he suggested politely.

“A shortcut back to mine would be even better,” Darcy said, and he gave her a respectful little tip of his head.

“Of course, Miss Lewis.”

She wasted no time leading Brock towards her bedroom as they stepped through the portal, which Dr. Strange had tactfully opened in the living room. She should have told him to go straight to the bedroom, Darcy mused, as she tugged her sweater up and over her head.

“You sure?” Brock was already dragging off his own jacket, tearing his T-shirt clean off in a way which made Darcy feel weak(er) with lust. “Don’t you want to eat, first?”

“We’ll order dinner in later. Much later.”

“Sounds good to me!”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” she ordered, and Brock lost no time in obeying her instructions before they toppled to the bed together, tangled in each others’ arms.

#TaserBones #Darcy Lewis #brock rumlow #first date

[ununniliad]

LNH20 Comics Presents #22: "The Return of Captain Killfile"

She fell

and she fell

and with a rude THUMP! she fell back into the world.

She scrambled to her feet. Disorientation. A sudden confusing sense of place.

Cold, but not the cold of space, a natural, wintery chill. Dark - night. Greenery, trees, bits of snow - nearby, a fence. Quiet here, but the quick rushing-river nose of traffic nearby, the clouds glowing softly. A city. Not a battle.

Last memory. Fighting. People she loved. ...fighting the people she loved. Because... because she had been Hildy, but now she was Captain Killfile, and they were trying to stop her from saving the world...

And then the wind kicked up and a copy of the Cleveland Plain Dealer hit her in the face.

She flailed around, electric crackling coming out of her gauntlets, and eventually managed to rip the paper off her face and examine it. What the-- Cleveland!? What was she doing in the second-most boring city in the nation[*]!?

[* In fact, the 2010 census shows Cleveland as the fourth-most boring city in the United States, with the current frontrunner being West Lafayette, Indiana! - Ed.(UE)]

She stared at the lines of ink, fragments of thought, memory, emotion bouncing into each other, forming new patterns before splitting and recombining. New city transit plan... tax breaks for people... protest against new law... rogue net.heroes... mmm. Something about that last one felt... off...

And only then, in her haze, did she paid attention to the date. February 20th... 2019?

Out of the fog, the memories rose up. The confrontation with her old team, now her enemies - the Saviors of the Net. Activating the great machine that would begin the process of healing. Sig.Lad, her mentor, her hero, the one who held her back and told her no until she had to leave, raising that damn sword, the Sword of .Sig, Excalibur, and pulling them away into a space where time blurred and softened... waking up and feeling the energies draining away, and draining away with them...

It had been twenty years. 

Well, shit.

How had it ended? Had her machine worked? Had she taken away the corrupting power of the net.humans - and had humanity managed to heal themselves?

She looked at the crumpled newspaper. Rogue net.heroes... But the printed words swam before her eyes. No. She had to see for herself. 

Captain Killfile... no, she told herself. Let's put that name aside. Right now, I am just myself; I am just Brunhilda.

Brunhilda seemed to still be wearing the gaudy gold-and-blue costume, from... before. When she'd taken over the airwaves, when she'd announced her plan to the world, standing in front of the camera and waiting. It'd been a bit spiteful; Sig.Lad had sent it to her a few months before as part of some weird attempt at reconnecting. That guy never knew how to do things in a normal way, just a net.hero way. That was part of...

Mmmm. Her mind was wandering, the fog still curling around it. She turned the hood and cape inside out, exposing the dark blue lining, and pulled the hood down over her face. Much less gaudy, pretty warm, and it'd let her see what 2019 was like without detection. Hopefully.

She slipped into the streets, keeping to the shadows, not hiding herself from passers-by but giving them more than a moment to pay attention to her presence. Subtle, like a ghost. Or like someone who lived in the world of ghosts, fighting them, death to a meaningless half-life...

Like Ghost Exterminator, the mysterious masked enigma of the 1950s. He (people thought it was a he, but nobody knew for sure) wandered thru the streets of San Francisco, stopping to help those in need. He didn't have any net.human powers, just skills, insight, and determination. Nobody knew why the name, either, but the big theory was that he was trying to rid himself of the ghosts who haunted him by helping others.

There had been more Ghost Exterminators in the decades since. It was an identity taken up by those who didn't want to operate under an identity of their own, living ghosts who fought the invisible specters that made society shudder and brought them into the light. Like she had. She'd seen what was wrong with the world that everybody else was too distracted or self-satisfied to realize, and fixed it.

Right?

Suddenly, action - damn, she'd left herself open in her distraction. Some kind of bright light next to her, and a loud voice-- "Greetings, Cleve.LAN.d!"

She rolled to the side and reached for her sword-- and it wasn't there. Falling back on net.hero instincts already, tch.

It was a giant TV, on the side of some kind of sports stadium. On it was a woman, a decade older than her, in a gaudy blue-and-gold mask and hood, with a megalomaniacal expression on her face. "I certainly hope you've missed me! But let me reintroduce myself!" She threw her arms out, flinging her gold-sequined cape to the sides. "I am... CAPTAIN KILLFILE!"

Brunhilda blinked. "...the heck you say," she murmured.

The fake!? took a step back, gesturing grandoisely at an enormous, complicated machine, all neon lights and chrome. "I have rebuilt my patented Kill-O-Ray, and am ready to unleash its awesome force!"

"That's not what it was called," snarled Brunhilda, her back going up. Some kind of awful parody, what was this?

"The fine government of this fair city has an hour to deliver ten million dollars in unmarked bills to the observation deck of the Terminal Tower - or I'll activate my device, and allow the dreaded Killfile to sweep over the land once more!" She pushed her face back into the camera, grinning with devilish glee. "Yes, you don't want that, do you? You may complain about your net.heroes, but ohhhhh, how you hated them going away! Ha ha!"

It felt like Brunhilda had been kicked in the stomach. What. No. Okay. No. Calm down. Fuck. Ugh. No. She pushed the storm of screaming thoughts out of her head and tried to concentrate on the screen.

"That's right!" shouted the masked face. "This is... THE RETURN OF CAPTAIN KILLFILE!"

"ugh shut uuuuup," she muttered, listening. Terminal Tower. Observation deck.

"And in case you doubt me..." The faux Captain stepped to the side, revealing a table with a shiny apple on a plate painted like a bullseye. Brunhilda noticed the glass lenses sliding along the machine's surface, passing past each other, clicking into place. They hummed, and the lights in the room seemed to darken, especially around the apple, which seemed to-- not disappear, nothing as sudden as that, but become less noticeable, more like the background, layer by layer, until it was completely gone.

Damn. That was absolutely real Killfile Energy. Sometime in the last twenty years, someone else had gotten up to her level - insult to injury.

"One hour, ladies, gents and honored guests! The clock starts--" Her hand hovered over a huge digital readout, pushed a big red button on it, and it started counting down. "Now!" The image disappeared, the screen turning an all-over blue with a big 'VIDEO' on it.

Brunhilda breathed in. Captain Killfile breathed out. All right. All right. Calm down. Breathe.

This was why she came out in Cleveland, twenty years later. To be shown this, to... stop this? To... understand? Ugh. But she didn't understand. Not yet. Why didn't... hated? Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it had made life better and this clown was like one of those politicians who talked about how much better things were with the new trade agreement even as it ground people into dust.

Or maybe she'd ground people into dust, thoughtlessly, caring only about herself-- no, calm down Hildy, you're okay, said the voice in her head that sounded just like Sig.Lad and ugh didn't that sting now. But she listened, and it said: See what's going on, take the time to understand, and see if you can help.

Okay.

Her Killfile Gauntlets were on the fritz, and she didn't have much time to tinker, but she knew just how to set up a killfile that would absorb energy weapons and shield her from detection, not to mention keep any externally-imposed killfiles from being placed on her. As for non-energy weapons, well, she'd just have to fall back on her fight training.

Now. Where was the Terminal Tower? Well, when you weren't sure where to find someone to fight, follow the police cars.

It turned out to be only a few minutes' walk. There was a big plaza around it with a bunch of expensive-looking restaurants and stores, now evacuated as the police set up a cordon. She kept back half a block, staying in the shadows to maximize the stealth effect of her killfile. How would she get in? Sure, she wasn't especially visible, but someone with that level of killfile technology would have ways of seeing thru it...

"Hi!"

"GAH!" She leapt in the air, spinning around and landing in a defense position, ready to strike at... a ten-year-old? What? Not only that, but a ten-year-old standing in an alleyway, wearing something that looked like miniaturized night vision goggles, but with googly eyes glued on them. He was looking right at her...

Then she recognized him. This kid wasn't just a kid, he was Kid Enthusiastic, an immortal who was actually older than her. (Not a lot older, but still.) He'd occasionally worked with the Saviors, but had never wanted to join - he had his own stuff going on. But it looked like he had a team now; there were a bunch of figures in colorful spandex behind him in the alley. Looked like teenagers, actually. Kinda familiar, but they must've been born after she disappeared...

"Who are you?" said the Kid. Damn, she was still zoning out. Okay, focus. "I thought I knew all the net.heroes operating in this area!"

"I'm, uh..." Captain Killfile was out, and she sure as heck wasn't going back to Kid Killfile. She flicked a switch on her gauntlet, appearing in the teenagers' vision like a spectre manifesting. "Ghost Exterminator."

"Ohhhhh!" Kid E clapped his hands with his famed energy. "One of them, gotcha gotcha. Well, I'm Kid Enthusiastic, and these are.." He gestured to the teens, who stepped out of the alley and posed! "The Ultimate Saviors!"

"Saviors?" Waaaaait a minute... she squinted. "As in... the Saviors of the Net?" There were five of them, all wearing masks, but their facial structures were clear as daylight, and... oh boy. Oh boy. 

"Yeah, that's right! Apparently W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. wanted to clone them and have their own set of mind-controlled net.heroes! So we all busted out, together!" He spun around and pointed at them. "Ultimate Saviors, roll call!"

"Super Scary Dazzle Bird!" A young man in his late teens stepped out at Kid Enthusiastic's call. His costume was part black and part holographic sparklies, with long wings drooping off of the arms, and held a long fighting staff in a defensive pose. His eyes twitched back and forth, making sure that despite Kid E's loudness, no one was looking towards them. Brunhilda knew from the color choices alone that this must be the clone of Chromium Age Very-Scary-Disturbed-Creature Man.

"Robot Girl!" A girl whose skin glimmered chrome, with cat ears and a feline muzzle, wearing a green belly-shirt and shorts with a bright red belt, gloves and boots. She swept her long silver hair out of her face as it fluttered in the cold February wind and gave Brunhilda a level gaze, sizing her up. The outfit was terrible for this weather, but it didn't matter - this was the clone of MechaKat, who could nanobiologically turn flesh to titanium alloy. And if they had her, they probably also had...

"Action Lad!" A boy in a red wraparound jacket with silver trim and silver pants and wearing a transparent red visor, with a friendly but focused expression, and his hand on a sword hilt at his belt. Yep, that was him but younger - Sig.Lad, her old mentor, her new-old foe. She kept her face steady as the feelings whirled. Could this night get any more tuned to probe her insecurities?

"Kid Kindle!" This one was even younger - thirteen, maybe fourteen, with red hair that flickered with little tongues of fire as she watched, wearing a white robe with flames flickering along the bottom and a long scarf around his mouth. His eyes were excited, taking in the new visitor, and it was hard to keep her face steady, because boy did she ever know those eyes and that fire, boy did she know that boy - Flamebroiled Lad, avatar of the cosmic entity of intense emotion, the Flamebroiled Force. Her nemesis, her archrival, that stupid jerk who kept hogging the other Nintendo controller. Her brrrrr... o. Her bro.

And with a sudden shuddering shock that made the February evening feel balmy by comparison, she realized who the last clone would be--

"Kid Killswitch!" And there she came, in shining white armor with a bright red "power off" symbol on the chest, that familiar face, those familiar eyes, intelligent and curious and driven and broken, no, not that, said the voice in her head, but eyes that had known both pain and joy, like and unlike her own - the clone of Captain Killfile.

Brunhilda tried to release the churning whirlwind of emotions into some form that could be understood by men, but all that came out of her mouth was a murmured "...I'm too young to be my own mom..."

"...a?" Kid Enthusiastic tilted his head to the side, looking up at her curiously.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and put away every feeling she didn't have time for right now. An incredibly useful skill from the life-or-death battle days. "That is, uh... Saviors, huh? So how are they ultimate?"

"Because they're the best and I love them!" Kid Enthusiastic spun around and posed, holding his arms wide as he showed off his team.

"Right yeah." Mecha-- er, Robot Girl stepped forward. "And apparently the lady what messed up the original Saviors is back and serious, so it's our job to stop her since they can't. Got a problem with that?"

Brunhilda couldn't help but smile. Well, well, the kids are all right. "Nope. Was just thinking the same thing."

"I don't know if I'd say it's our job," said Action Lad, stepping forward non-confrontationally into Robot Girl's confrontation space, "that seems to be basic survival."

Kid E nodded! "We've been laying low while we try'n contact the LNH. It's hard - W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. has facial recognition technology they use on all the security cam footage they can grab, and they can grab nearly all of it. So we've been keeping under wraps."

"But we still have to get out there and save people!" Kid Kindle's hair burst briefly into full flame, and he grinned in enthusiasm. Great, another one taking after his mentor. "We can't just stay in a safehouse and send emails!"

"So we wear facial-recognition-defeating face paint when we're undercover, and go on missions without it, since it's going to be obvious either way that the team of five teenage net.heroes that appeared out of nowhere are the same five teenage net.humans that disappeared from not-so-protective custody." Super Scary Dazzle Bird (what a name!) looked off towards the Terminal Tower. "Speaking of which, if you're coming with us, we'd better get going. The clock is still ticking."

The LNH must be the Something Net.Heroes, and Whatever... Net.villans? Government agency? Something else? Bad guys, or so Kid Enthusiastic thought, and she had to admit, cloning her old team in order to have some kind of controlled force didn't seem like an especially ethical thing. Had they taken over during the Killfile, when there weren't any net.heroes to stop them?

Brunhilda released her anxious feelings again, though this time it was harder. "Right. Time to team up and beat the bad guy." Just like the old days, only now, the bad guy was her...

No, the bad guy was a cheap copy who had no idea what she'd actually been trying to do. And she could at least take responsibility for her imitators, and deal with whatever else she'd unleashed later.

Heh. W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. else.

Kid Killswitch hadn't said anything. She was still looking at Brunhilda. But she nodded and followed along with everyone else.

Brunhilda took a battery from Super Scary Dazzle Bird and wired it into her gauntlets, extending the killfile to cover all of them. They snuck past the cops, Robot Girl and Action Lad keeping their eyes on the perimeter in case someone caught a glimpse.

There were a couple of muscly dudes in gold-and-blue suits standing next to the entrance. Kid Kindle reached out, a lance of emotional fire shooting out and hitting one of them in the back; nostalgia and guilt flared in Brunhilda's chest at the display of power.

The goon straightened up from his slumped position and pushed the other one roughly. "Hey, wake up! I don't wanna lose my paycheck because of you!"

Another blast of energizing anger, and the other goon pushed back. "Shut up! You're the one who said this was gonna be an easy job, and now there's ten thousand cops out there and we're probably gonna be left holding the bag!"

"You shut up! God, I should never have dated you!" The one goon slapped the other goon, and the other goon slapped back, and they grabbed each other and started rolling on the ground, passionately making out, and Brunhilda and the Ultimate Saviors snuck inside.

Down a small, lightless corridor, and down to the elevator. Robot Girl leaned in, removing the panel and sticking her fingers in among the wires. She stretched out her hand and a screen appeared showing datastreams zipping back and forth; Kid Killswitch and Super Scary Dazzle Bird leaned in to analyze it. Action Lad and Kid Kindle spread out, keeping watch.

Kid E bounced in place, watching his charges figure out the puzzle. Brunhilda leaned back on the wall next to him, watching them as well, especially the one who was-and-wasn't her. "They have a heck of a lot of personality, for people who came out of a vat not long ago."

Kid E nodded enthusiastically! "They're not just regular clones, they're biotropic duplicates! W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. stole the device that Sig.Lad used to copy people's power signatures and used it to template them as they were growing? They even lured a Salamander[*] in to possess Kid Kindle! But we stole the device back and now Action Lad's using it!"

[* Also known as Ifrits, Salamanders are the fiery elemental offspring of the Flamebroiled Force which possessed and empowered Flamebroiled Lad! - Ed.(UE)]

"Ahhh." Brunhilda ran the tip of her tongue over her lip. "So... their personalities are clones too?"

"Sort of." Kid E wiggled his hand. "They're definitely their own people, tho - I knew the originals, and these guys aren't making the same choices they would've."

"Mmmm..." Brunhilda breathed in deep, let it out. "That's good, that's real good..."

"All right." Super Scary Dazzle Bird stood up and turned to them, all business. (God, that name. Not that it was any sillier than Chromium Age Very-Scary-Disturbed-Creature Man.) "We've hacked the elevator so that it'll take us to the top without triggering alarm system notifications. But to do that, it has to go slow - it'll take us fifteen minutes to get up there."

"We only have, like, twenty minutes left before the deadline!" Kid Kindle brought his fists against his chest, eyes wide in passion and fear. "What if she actually brings back the Killfile!?"

"She won't." Brunhilda straightened up, squaring her shoulders. "As you can probably tell, I have, uh, some experience with killfile tech." She gestured at the ceiling. "That machine she's got is advanced, but there's no way it could project a subject-based killfile broad enough to cover Ohio, let alone the world." You'd need a much bigger power source, and the one she'd used... wasn't available. As far as she knew.

"Could still do some damage, though," remarked Kid Killswitch, looking up at her. 

Aw, baby's first words... Brunhilda regretted the sarcastic thought immediately. "Oh yeah, and how. Killfiles can mess with all sorts of important shit. She could take Cleveland down hard, and her next blackmail scheme would seem all the more real."

"So we'd better hurry." MechaKat closed her hand, the screen disappeared, and the door of the elevator opened. They all shuffled in, and silently, it began to rise. In the background, a jazzy instrumental version of "Mad World" started playing.

"Right," said Action Lad. "Ultimate Saviors... waiting mode!!"

Brunhilda watched as all five of them sat down and immediately pulled Magic: The Gathering decks out of somewhere in their costumes, shuffling up with practiced speed. "Turn one, mountain, lighting bolt Action Lad." "Why me!?" "Because we don't have time for one of your weird blue shapeshifter decks!" "Awww..."

Kid Enthusiastic leaned back against the wall next to her. "So~"

"...so?"

"Feels like you've got some more questions in you! And we've got time."

The side of Brunhilda's mouth turned down at his easy poke at her boundaries... but it wasn't like she didn't have a thousand and one questions, bubbling and burning in her belly, about this new world she'd found herself one of the creators of. And the most burning of them all... "Well... you were around back then, right? What was the Killfile like?"

"Oh man. It mega sucked," Kid Enthusiastic chirped. "I mean, life was kind of normal, but the kind of normal where you're working a crappy job and it's gray and depressing outside, you know?"

"...oh." It felt like cold water had been thrown in her face. The boxes that she'd put her feelings in earlier burst open, flooding her system with complicated griefs.

"Like," continued Kid E, not noticing her face's fall, "there were so many bad guys and even though they couldn't build Kill-O-Rays or send robot goons at you, they could still just keep making things worse all the time." He hummed, looking off into the distance in appreciation. "Even though things really suck right now, people are really fighting, too. Back then, it seemed like hardly any of us could fight - or could even see there was anything worth fighting!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That was... that was...

Brunhilda Ampulle had been just another kid kicking around the foster care system, just kind of existing, and then she looked up and someone had reached out a hand and she'd taken it. And she'd become a net.hero because that hand had belonged to a net hero.

But that was only why she'd started doing it. She'd kept doing it because she could just reach out and help people, right in front of her. And she'd done that for a while and she wasn't just existing, she was living, and she was... getting better, most days.

And eventually she'd gotten better enough to where she could lift her head up, and look out at the world... and see that, actually, there were a lot more awful things going on out there, outside her city and her team, than she had realized. Things she couldn't just reach out and affect. Things none of the net.heroes seemed to be able to affect, even the stupidly powerful ones who Kept Watch Over The World. But those net.heroes kept going, kept getting into big splashy fights over things that seemed so small, and those faraway troubles just kept getting better, just kept getting closer. And then...

Look, people died all the time, she knew that, you fought guys with guns and that happened. But this hadn't been in a fight, and it hadn't been someone who signed up for it, and... it was so unnecessary, so meaningless, and Alice wasn't even... She was nice and kind and good and people like that weren't even supposed to...

Well. So she left. She left, and one of her little theoretical ideas turned into a big not-so-theoretical idea, and... and she became one of those troubles, and...

"It wasn't all bad, tho."

"--oh!?" Brunhilda jerked out of her reverie, hardly even caring that the Ultimate Saviors had all looked up at her half-squeaked exclamation. She settled back, and they returned to their game.

"Yeah, like..." Kid Enthusiastic rubbed his chin, teasing out a complex emotion. "I feel like... After  the Killfile, people appreciated us more. No, like, not just us, the whole... the whole idea." He put his hands out, squeezing something invisible. "Even when the government was trying to control us and there were a lot of people pushing against us, there were so many people who, it seemed like... had woken up after decades, maybe their whole lives, and realized that actually fighting evil is good?"

"I..." She closed her mouth, a little puff of breath escaping out her nose. That answer was... frustrating. Not exactly the positive impact she'd wanted from her efforts - "people suffered so much that they realized they had to give a shit".

...on the other hand... maybe that was the best outcome she could've hoped for...

She rested her head against the wall of the elevator and listened to the soft rumbling as it moved. Even before Alice... did it, Brunhilda had realized that there was something wrong with the world. A huge, low-level grossness, an apathy, spreading over it. She remembered seeing cartoons about Saving the Planet, and thinking they were lame, and then realizing that no, this was a real problem that kept getting worse as people kept laughing at it. She heard how stupid that woman who spilled coffee on herself was, and came to understand that the "joke" was that someone would want to get money and apology from a trillion-dollar corporation that just kept growing and growing and taking and taking, and how foolish and lazy that was. She saw that bombs were being lobbed every day straight into schools full of little kids who weren't white and weren't Christian and the generals shrugged and said "oops, accident" and it just kept going on in the background and everyone was grumbling about it but no one was shouting, no one really and truly cared and...

And it had to be someone's fault. It hadn't always been like this, someone had caused this, but who was powerful enough to change the entire world like that?

And she looked around herself and realized: It was us. The net.heroes, the net.villains. They were powerful and everyone looked up to them, the celebrities and heroes of the world. 

And the more she looked for it, the more she saw it. Their, our, weird self-obsession, our attachment to their own battles, and especially, the way that, whenever we tried to confront wars and environmental damage and real suffering, it never produced a solution that stuck. Even the Saviors, even Sig.Lad, only ever put band-aids on the problems.

And then... Look, sometimes you stretched out your hand to someone and they were in too bad of a place to take it. She knew that, she'd always known that, but when... When you got someone out of a burning building, especially when you sat and talked with them, and they turned out to be really cool, and nice, and maybe were going to join your game group, and said "I'll be okay", they weren't... Alice wasn't just supposed to... if you saved their life they didn't have the right to...

With effort she pulled herself out of that loop and glanced at Kid Enthusiastic. He gave her a cheery smile, then turned away, seeming to sense that she was done talking for now. She wouldn't have chalked him up for that kind of social awareness, but it was already clear he had a lot going on under the facade...

The music kept playing, a weird, jazzy loop, and as she watched the teen she had once been play, she slipped back into her memories...

So she'd taken a leave of absence from the Saviors.

...so she'd had an enormous screaming crying argument with the Saviors and left. And after she'd parked herself in a cheap hotel and cried everything out, she had made some plans.

She'd used the Saviors' wages she'd saved up and the modest royalties from her patents to buy a workshop in Clearwater Hill, one of Net.ropolis's poorest neighborhoods. And she set about working in the solution. The Killfile Device.

She'd been thinking of it as something she could present to the smart, reasonable heroes, talk it over and use it as a tool to scrape the worst bits out of net.humanity before it was too late. A decision she wouldn't have to make alone.

But... a few months in, people had noticed she wasn't with the Saviors anymore. Action Bimonthly, a mid-level magazine about net.hero goings-on, contacted her for an interview. And she was so excited, she could tell people - no, not all the details, but what she'd noticed, her goals, and get the message out, and there would be like-minded people who would come to her and they could work together...

And the interview came out and... nobody seemed to notice? Nobody came out of the woodwork to join in her cause? She didn't hear anything? 

No, it had been worse than that, because she had certainly heard things when she read the letters to the editor in Action. How people like her were making a fuss, distracting from the real issues, making the people who were actually trying to fix things look bad.

So she didn't take any more interviews after that. She just worked. She had already started and she couldn't stop now and she didn't think about what would happen when she was done.

But there was one thing she couldn't figure out, one thing she'd been hoping to get help with from somebody - a power source.

And a little voice was whispering in her head. Quietly at first, and she pushed it away and kept working, but louder and louder as she went deeper and deeper into single-minded focus. The net.heroes caused this problem. The net.heroes had the power.

Killfile Energy filtered, separated. She could separate the power from those who had it, use their own wasted might that had tried and failed so many times to save the world, to finally save it once and for all.

She built a power-channeling device. Just to test the idea. And if she found someone who wanted to help and had the power she could use it for that, right?

And the day came when every part of the device was done and there weren't any more tweaks left to make, and there weren't any more tests to be run, and she had to stop and face the prospect of actually using it.

By this time, the obsessive thoughts were a constant background pounding. She had to show them. She had to stop them. Before it was too late. It was almost too late. Something awful was going to rush up at any second, some net.hero with too much power was going to make a mistake, and smash the world flat, and it would be her fault. But it was okay. She had the machine, and she could use it and fix things, save the world... 

And she knew how she could get the power.

She knew how to bring net.heroes running. Net.heroes with the power to feel her machine. And part of her knew just which heroes it would end up being. Part of her begged her not to. She broke down into crying fits, finally telling herself that she would just talk to them first, that they'd have to hear her out when she had this power at her back.

She cleaned herself up. She put on that costume. She activated her stealth killfiles. She walked straight into the big national news studio with no one seeing, put every living soul who could stop her in a half-hour killfile bubble, put the cameras on her and sent out her message. 

This time she wasn't able to hold it back like she did in the interview. She told the world what was wrong with it and why; how the net.heroes had gone too far, and not knowing or understanding, had betrayed the rest of humanity. She announced her plan to clear them away and let the world heal. And she told them where to find her. Then she turned her killfiles back on and walked away.

And of course when she got to the workshop the Saviors were there already and of course they would have seen her coming in and of course there was no time to talk, right, it wasn't that she was striking the first blow because she knew in her heart that if she said what she meant she would be rejected again, of course not of course not

Even though Sig.Lad was already trying to reach out as she pushed them back with a killfile shell, even though Lurking Girl broke her solitude to ask why, even though she could see the bitter sadness in MechaKat's eyes

And the only one strong enough to break thru her shells burst in, as she knew he would, knocking her back against the machine, Felix, her stupid little brother fighting her again, she'd never told him she thought of him like that, he was yelling at her about how she was betraying them all, and she yelled at him about how he didn't understand because he only cared about fake shit like anime and being a hero

And she pulled the lever

And the killfile activated, splitting him in two, Felix Landers and the Flamebroiled Force, never to be reunited, discarding the one and sending the other into the machine, straight thru her

All the rage, all the fear, all the resentment, all the secret impossible buried hope, channeled straight thru her body and mind and into her machine and she felt it unfold, the dampening blanket enfolding the world

And in the distance, a glint of metal, Sig.Lad raised his sword, and somehow she could see his eyes, great and sad and knowing it was over, and summoning his own death, because the wielder of Excalibur could only have one end, opening the gate to the fairy world to sleep forever, and time slowing down and slipping away

and she'd been right some net.hero with too much power made a mistake and smashed the world flat and it was her that's what she was that's what she'd done it was her fault she wasn't a hero she'd never been a hero that's why Captain Killfile was the worst net.villain ever

"Hey... are you okay?"

Brunhilda jerked back to reality. Without realizing it, she'd slumped to the ground, legs folded up against her. Kid Enthusiastic and the Ultimate Saviors were gathered around her, looking down with concern and/or worry. Her head and face were tingling, and she reached up with a shaking hand to touch her face... yes, it was covered in tears.

"I..." She swallowed thickly, trying to find words, but all that came to mind was... the Killfile wasn't set with an ending date. It could have lasted for centuries. Somehow, the Saviors had stopped that but... it could have been so much worse and it was all her fault...

Wait, something was wrong, other than everything...

"The music stopped," she said.

Everyone's head turned. With a click, the doors began to open...

Kid Killswitch grabbed Brunhilda's wrist, grabbed the loose wire and touched it to the battery. The stealth killfile spread out to cover them.

The doors slid open. The guards stationed on either side of the elevator peered inside. Everyone held their breath...

The guards looked at each other, shrugged, and settled back in place. The door slowly closed. Everyone breathed out.

Robot Girl leaned in and slapped her hand on the button panel. "Keeping the door closed, keeping us in place."

"Right. Everybody, put your fingers in your ears and go la-la-la," said Kid Killswitch.

"...why!?" said Super Scary Dazzle Bird, throwing his hands in the air. "This isn't the kind of--"

"Just do it, nerd!" Kid Killswitch rolled her eyes. 

Kid Kindle turned. "Kid E, what do you--"

"La la la la-- were we not supposed to yet?"

Super Scary Dazzle Bird sighed. "Okay, okay, fine... la la la la..."

"I gotta keep my hand here," said Robot Girl, "but I'll turn off my audio inputs, okay?"

"Sure yeah whatever." Kid Killswitch waited until everyone was la-la-la-ing, and turned to Brunhilda. "Okay. Get up, Captain Killfile."

"I..." She took in a shuddering breath, let it out. Too late to deny it and she didn't have the composure anyway. She didn't even feel as shocked as she should. "How?"

Kid Killswitch rolled her eyes again. "We know who we're supposed to be. You think I don't know that face from splashing cold water on it at three in the morning, wondering when I would start feeling the urge to Go Bad?"

"...fuck..." The guilt stabbed right back into her brain. "sorry."

"Look--" Kid Killswitch shook her head and made a pushing-it-away motion. "Don't worry about it. I don't think there's anybody who didn't get their parents' anxieties. Maybe Kid E. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say and we don't have much time." She ran her hand thru her hair, looking off to the side. "I read that interview. I wanted to know who you were and why you did it and I dug that up and... it made sense."

Brunhilda blinked, a bit of the haze of grief and guilt lifting, replaced by intrigued confusion. "...seriously?" She actually found a copy after twenty years? How-- wait, it made sense?

"Yeah. Like, I dunno if I agree with you twenty years on, but like, you were clearly not crazy, you clearly had a good goal in mind, you were clearly tryin'a help." She grinned that same always-a-bit-smug grin. "After I read it I didn't have quite as many nightmares."

"...wow." The huge weight hanging on Brunhilda's nerves and bones started to rise off a bit. "Y'know, you're the first one who's ever said that?"

"Not surprised. Controversial shit, and you were shooting it into the void. You didn't have anybody to talk over ideas with, did ya?"

"I mean..." She sighed. "The Saviors, but..."

"Yeah. They didn't get it." She looked over her shoulder, at everyone going 'la la la'. "It's different with these nerds. They support my stupid ideas, even if they give me shit for them. And I support theirs, even if they're morons half the time."

"Yeah..." Brunhilda was... jealous and happy at the same time. Today was just a smorgasbord of new emotions, huh. "You don't have to be like me."

"Hey, look." Kid Killswitch stuck her finger in Brunhilda's face. Jeez, she couldn't have been this rude, right? "My point is? I want to be like you."

"...kid." Brunhilda squinted in disbelief. "Thanks for being nice to the crazy lady, but. I just broke down crying because I fucked up the world so bad."

"EXACTLY, crazy lady!" Kid Killswitch gesticulated passionately. "You fucked up and you know it and now you're gonna try and fix it, right?"

"..." Flashes of what she'd done - the blanket, formed from her own resentment and pain wrapping around the world. "I don't think I can..." But under that pain... that purpose. To be the hand that reached out. "But... fuck it. Whatever I can do, I'll do." She breathed out, and a little more of that awful weight floated away. "That's who I am now. Someone who makes up for the Killfile."

"Right." Kid Killswitch nodded firmly. "That's who I want to be. Someone who makes mistakes and makes up for it and keeps going." She looked Brunhilda in the eye. "A hero."

Brunhilda sucked in her breath. "Damn. How are you this smart when you just came out of a tube?"

Kid Killswitch giggled, with that bit of familiar bubbly snottiness. She'd missed feeling that way. "I got it from you, bozo. I literally have your brain."

"Right." Brunhilda shook herself out, ran her hands thru her hair. "Well... thanks."

Kid Killswitch snerked. "Don't thank me, I'm being selfish. The others get to be clones of heroes, why shouldn't I?" She reached out a hand. "C'mon. Get up... Ghost Exterminator."

Brunhilda grinned and took the hand, pulling herself up. She still didn't feel like a good person, exactly. But hell. She didn't have to be, to be a hero.

Kid Killswitch tapped Kid E on the shoulder, and they got the others to stop la-la-la-ing while Brunhilda smoothed herself out. Super Scary Dazzle Bird fluffed out his cape irritably. "So what was that about?"

"Simple. Remember when Kid E told us about secret weaknesses, like Captain Minority being vulnerable to artificial vanilla flavor?" Kid Killswitch gestured to Brunhilda. "Well, Ghosty here just got hit with her secret weakness, and I figured out what it was and helped her out."

"'Cause you're so smart," grinned Kid Kindle, and held out his fist.

"'Cause I'm so smart!" grinned Kid Killswitch, and bumped it.

"And you didn't wanna expose the secret to everybody!" Kid Enthusiastic pumped his fists. "Good job!"

"Yeah, nice, there's problems," said Robot Girl, hand still on the panel. "The mayor gave in and there's a chopper that's gonna set down on the roof in like two minutes with the money."

"I mean, better for her to get away with the money than for people to get hurt," said Action Lad.

"Yeah," said Brunhilda, cracking her knuckles. "But even better to kick her ass."

"Just tell me when," said Robot Girl.

"Everybody!" called out Kid Enthusiastic gleefully, even though they were all literally right there. "Cool team pose!"

"Come on," groused Kid Killswitch, but she was grinning. She and Kid Kindle lined up on one side of Kid Enthusiastic, Super Scary Dazzle Bird and Action Lad on the other, forming a V. Brunhilda got over on the left side of the door, mirroring Robot Girl on the left. All seven of them got into action stances, and Robot Girl took her hand off the door.

With a ding, the door opened. One of the goons was kneeling down, whistling, examining the mechanism. She looked up, still whistling...

And Robot Girl's metal fist plowed into her chin, knocking her back and away.

The other goon straightened up, going for the ray gun at her side. "Ey, it's some kinda ghost!"

"More like a Ghost Exterminator!" Brunhilda's gauntleted knuckles impacted the goon's stomach. The banter was comforting.

"Oofda!" She went down too, and Super Scary Dazzle Bird and Kid Killswitch grabbed the dropped ray guns. The seven net.heroes ran down the hall and Action Lad kicked the door in.

The fake Captain Killfile was gloating at the cameras, as her goons moved her machine onto a dolly. "Thank you for your service, Cleveland! You've got a lovely city here - hope it stays that way, haha!"

Kid Killswitch lifted the ray gun she'd grabbed, aimed, fired it at the impostor... only for the beam to fade into nothing before it hit her!

"Shit!" said Brunhilda. "She's got a personal defense killfile!"

"Ha-hah!" the impostor crowed, turning to face them, pumping her fist in glee. "We have guests! Blacklisters, activate the Killfile Killfile!" 

One of the goons hit a switch on the big machine, and Brunhilda felt a soft wave of dampening energy roll over the room - dropping the Killfile that kept them hidden.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way, guys!" Kid Enthusiastic leapt into the fray, and the team followed in his wake of morale.

She turned to the camera and gave it a wink. "Now the whole city will see the true might of the legendary-- Captain Killfile!!"

Of course she had to keep saying that, grumbled Brunhilda. And now "killfile" didn't sound like a word anymore.

Robot Girl lashed out with metal claws, slicing ray guns in two. "You have a team name for your minions? That's way too retro, lady."

"I dunno, though." Action Lad took the hilt from the scabbard he wore, and pulled out an enormous pen with a sword-like hilt and a glowing blue tip. He inscribed a name in the air, writing "Linguini Lass" with liquid light, in loopy, flowing cursive. "I'd say it's so retro it's cool again." He pulled the pen away, and the looping script flowed into his body, outlining him in neon blue. His limbs stretched out, noodle-like, to entangle the goons.

Kid Kindle shot empowering energy into the bodies of his teammates. "Yeah! I'm glad we got a net.villain with some style!"

Robot Girl knocked two goons' heads together and sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."

Brunhilda scooted sideways in the fray. "Hey," she murmured to Kid Killswitch, "I got an idea."

"I'm listening..."

Super Scary Dazzle Bird was attempting more shots at the impostor, reasoning that if the Killfile Killfile had killfiled their killfile, then her own killfile must also be killfiled. (And now "killfile" *really* didn't look like a word anymore.) Unfortunately, said impostor had made it over to the Kill-O-Ray, which seemed to be protected by a non-killfile-based forcefield, and was flipping switches and cackling.

Brunhilda stepped directly in front of the cameras. She summoned all the performative net.hero drama she was capable of, and pointed dramatically at the impostor with her right hand, bare now, her index finger aligned perfectly with her target. "Stop right there! I know you're not the real Captain Killfile!"

The impostor's body stiffened, and she spun around, her manic grin a bit stiffer and less real than it had been a moment ago. "Hah!" She straightened, tossing her arm so that her sparkly cape billowed dramatically. "And why would you make such a foolish proclamation? Some kind of net.hero trickery?"

"No." The heavy weight of grief and guilt was laying against Brunhilda's chest. But she knew, now. She'd let guilt fester in her, guilt over not being the one to fix the world all by herself, and it had lead to a lot of terrible things. You were supposed to share the weight of the world, because it belonged to everybody; you weren't supposed to hold it up alone until it crushed you and everybody else in the process. She didn't need to be the one to solve everything. She just needed to let out the knowledge, the feelings, she was holding inside - spread them to the world, as far as she could, and let everyone know the truth.

"It's because..." Brunhilda pulled down her hood, and looked up at the impostor. "Because my name is Brunhilda Ampulle. And I..." She looked directly into the camera. "I was Captain Killfile."

Everything was quiet for a moment.

"...wait, what!?" shouted Kid Kindle, before dodging yet another kick by a Blacklister.

"You..." the impostor's eyes narrowed. She ripped the gaudy cape and hood off, tossing it on the floor. From her belt she pulled a metal tube and hit a button on it, and out popped a blade of searing gray-white nothingness that hurt the eyes to look at - coherent Killfile Energy. "It's YOUR FAULT!"

Action Lad undropped his jaw. "G-- C-- Ghost Exterminator, catch!" He tossed his pen-sword thru the air.

Brunhilda caught it as it came down, just in time to block the impostor's blade. "Yeah, it was. All my fault." She danced back, parried, thrusted. "What's your story?"

"Jessica Blackstone, heiress to the scientific traditions of Patricia Blackstone!" Jessica dodged the thrust, going in with big, wild slashes - not as wild as they seemed, though, and Brunhilda had to twist and counter with expert timing. "I was eleven when the Killfile went up! My mother had been an expert in the field of killfile weapons research! Courted by governments, showered in grant money, treated like a queen! And I, her princess! We had money and wealth! And then it all went away!" 

"Gotcha. This is a revenge story." Brunhilda's attention was focused. She didn't think about the plan going off in the background, just on the woman in front of her. Keep her talking. Keep her fighting. "So what happened?"

"Hah, as if you didn't know!" The two blades, energy and narrative, locked against each other, and the two fighters were face to face. Jessica shouted in Brunhilda's face, little flecks of spittle flying - ew. "With the great Killfile up, killfile technology lost much of its power, for it's difficult to put a killfile over a killfile! My mother knew that problem could be cracked, but the powers that were did not care! We lost our prestige, our wealth! I had to go to public school!"

"...right. And then?" Brunhilda pushed back and fell into a defensive position, her back to the machine. She's ranting now, let it happen, no matter how dumb it is. 

"And then the Killfile fell, and I dedicated my life to cracking the problem! I became the world's preeminent specialist in Killfile Energy! And I swore I would use the position to take back the wealth and power that you had denied me!" She was far too angry at Brunhilda to attack her now, glaring, yelling, wanting her to hear every word. "I'm greater than you ever were! Stronger! Smarter!"

Kid Killswitch stepped forward, on Brunhilda's left. "Hey, bitch," she called to what's-her-name. "If you're so smart, do you know what happens when you bring together two rapidly fluctuating opposite-polarity killfiles?"

"...yeah," said Jessica, looking at Kid Killswitch like she was an idiot for asking. "You create a standing watchlist wave that destroys... destroys any killfiles--"

She jumped towards them but it was too late. Kid Killswitch lifted the right-hand gauntlet that Brunhilda had given her, the one she'd spent the fight rewiring to the opposite polarity and setting to fluctuate. Brunhilda lifted her left-hand gauntlet, still radiating Killfile Energy, and slammed them together.

A sphere of un-energy burst from the point of contact, knocking them apart, knocking back the impostor, knocking down the Blacklisters and the Ultimate Saviors. The room shone, dazzling and bright, everything standing out against everything else. The Kill-O-Ray sparked and smoked, and with a pop! an apple reappeared.

Everything was quiet for a few moments. Then Kid Killswitch pulled herself up in front of the cameras. "Hey, folks... hope you enjoyed. City is safe, Captain Killfile is no more, and..." She thumped her chest. "You can call me Captain Killfile now." She clicked off the camera and sighed. "That feels good."

Kid Enthusiastic hopped up next, running across the room. "OMG good job!" He pulled out a glob of green goo and used it to stick Jessica's hands together and stick her to a pillar.

"...hey..." Jessica muttered, woozily.

He tossed another glob of goo between his hands, watching Brunhilda as she pulled herself up. "Don't suppose I need to stick you in place for the cops too~"

Brunhilda shook her head. "Think you probably guessed that I'm not gonna be fighting heroes anytime soon."

He giggled, but his eyes were a bit more serious, looking her up and down. "Yeah... I don't think you are." He put the goo away. "But what are you gonna be doing?"

"Better question, what are we gonna be doing," said Super Scary Dazzle Bird, dusting off his cape. "What happened to keeping a low profile?"

"That's net.heroing," said Action Lad. "This was gonna be big one way or another. Can I have that back?" He nodded to the pen-sword.

"Oh, sure." Brunhilda handed it back.

"Wait wait wait wait wait," said Kid Kindle, popping up. "Are we just gonna ignore that she just confessed to being Captain Killfile?" He turned to Kid Kill-- nope, she was Captain Killfile now. "Why do you want the name?"

Captain Killfille grinned. "Right of conquest. Claiming my heritage. And maybe I just wanna shock the norms."

Brunhilda grinned. "Hey, I'm not using it."

Action Lad grinned. "I guess this really was... the return of Captain Killfile."

Robot Girl covered her face. "Why."

Action Lad shrugged exaggeratedly~ "I've decided to lean into dad jokes."

"Seriously, tho," said Kid Enthusiastic, bouncing in place. "What's your plans? You're pretty clearly messed up, twenty years out of time by the look of it-- you gotta tell me how that happened-- and you probably don't have anywhere to go."

Brunhilda rubbed her face. "Yeah, you're right. And I gotta.." She closed her eyes, and felt the pain suddenly well up again, felt a tear threatening to form in the corner of her eye. The weight wasn't gone just 'cause she'd done one thing. But it didn't hurt quite as much.

"Actually..." She rubbed her eyes. "I think I was wrong, before. I think I definitely need to be taken into custody." She looked over the six of them. "But the 2019 cops sound like they suck. So how about y'all taking me in until you can remand me to that net.hero team you've been trying to contact?"

"...oh, good idea," said Action Lad, doing his post-battle stretches.

"I suppose that's the safest option," harrumphed Super Scary Dazzle Bird, crossing his arms.

Robot Girl rolled her eyes. "I guess--"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT." Kid Kindle skidded in front of Brunhilda, waving his hands at the rest of them. "You're really saying that we literally take in the biggest bad guy of all time!? Right after-- ALL THAT!?"

Captain Killfile stepped forward. "Dude." She looked put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I trust her."

"..." He siiiiiiiighed dramatically, flopping his head back and rolling his eyes. "Fiiiiiiine. I guess somebody's gotta keep an eye on her."

"Welp, that's settled!" Kid E clapped his hands. "Now... let's scram already, the cops will be here soon!"

"Right!" The Ultimate Saviors clattered down the hallway, but Kid Enthusiastic took Brunhilda's arm before she could follow.

"By the way," he said. "Hildy. If it's okay to call you that."

"Heh... you can call me anything you want, now, I guess," she said. "What is it?"

"Just wanted to let you know. Felix?" He smiled big up at her. "He's the leader of the LNH!"

One more burst of cold surprise for the evening. "...ah heck." She'd have to face him, eventually. She'd have to apologize... She could feel the tears welling up again, and quickly rubbed her eyes. He'd survived. He... her brother was okay. "Always... always knew he'd make somethin' of himself."

"Yeah." He smiled up at her, and took her hand. "Let's go, Ghost Exterminator."

And they walked off into the chill winter night.

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Adventure #Drama #Legion of Net.Heroes #LNH20 #LNH20 Comics Presents

[tricklesandtides]

Fill the Void [2/5]

By this point in your life, you were used to fading into the background. Used to being just another face in the crowd. Used to standing by, while others took the spotlight. Specifically, while 80% of the population took the spotlight. You most certainly were comfortable in your place behind-the-scenes.

Yet, Hawks took great joy in breaking you out into the public scene. He loved to show you off, taking you out every chance he had. Movies? You two were at every blockbuster that came out. Galleries? Every event, every opening, he was there, dragging you behind him. Dinners? He took you to every restaurant you knew, and many more you didn't. Even if you weren't always entirely interested in whatever date he took you on, it was wonderful just to spend the time with him.

What wasn't so wonderful, was the cameras that followed the two of you around. They took pictures of you constantly, at every opportunity. Anytime you stepped outside, they hounded you, trying to catch every moment, whether you were at Hawks' side or not. And while he may have been more accustomed to the attention, you floundered and panicked at the lack of privacy.

It wasn't long before the tabloids started arriving at your apartment, either. You didn't know if it was the outlets themselves sending you copies of heir papers, or if some well-intentioned fool thought you'd enjoy seeing your own face plastered on every page, but the result was the same.

You tried to get rid of them before Hawks found out that more had arrived. He knew how much they upset you, and had, on several occasions, had several 'polite' choice words with the major news outlets because of it. It might have been easier to just... not read the papers, but curiosity often got the better of you.

'Pro-hero settles for a civilian'

'Quirkless rising through the ranks'

'Love? Lust? Money? Read the real story here!'

Everyone had an opinion, and it seemed like they were all determined to shout and shout until you drowned.

At the end of every day, your Hawks returned, ever faithfully. He'd take any newspapers that you hadn't hidden or otherwise disposed of, and would fling them from your bedroom window. His laughs would echo out onto the street as the two of you watched the pages fly in the wind.

“They don't know anything,” he murmurs to you, fingers threaded through you hair. He fights to keep the smirk off his lips. You know he doesn't take the whole thing seriously, there's not a doubt in his mind. He has the freedom to choose, because he has the power. The status. The most to lose.

Maybe they're right.

Somehow, somehow, the sudden publicity of your relationship seems to have a positive consequence. The infamous number two hero becomes the talk of the nation. The man with the pitiful lover, the lovesick puppy who can't keep her name out of his mouth. The less Hawks shares about you, the more the crowds speculate, and the more attention he draws to himself. His agency is put at the forefront of every mission, ever event, every patrol. Applications upon applications, begging the public idol to make an appearance. To let some group or other ride on the coattails of his fame.

Hawks becomes much busier, suddenly. He no longer stops by between patrols, no longer drags you out of your office for late lunches. No flowers at your desk in the mornings, no 'personal escort' after work. No, now he arrives at your apartment, the sky long since darkened, feet dragging and wings drooping. He barely manages to drag himself into your bed at night, falling into your arms and asleep before he lands. His plumage is sparse, and he leaves limp feathers all over your floors. No matter how often you sweep, they always seem to linger.

Still. You promised each other. 'I'll never let you go.'

Hawks used to beg you to watch his interviews. He was snappy and short-tempered and full of smirks, and he did whatever he could to fluster whoever he was with. Sometimes you would watch it live, other times you would watch snippets online. It made him happy, knowing that he was putting on a show for you. Knowing that the whole world could see how little they mattered compared to the treasure waiting for him at home.

Now, he begged you to avoid watching them. He used to be in control. He was always the one making the probing comments, the barbed questions. Now, they had ammo, and more than enough resentment.

One evening, on your way home from work, your car is caught up in a massive traffic jam. People yell and shout obscenities at each other. Horns honk. No cars move. You groan, and watch the advertisements on the giant screen above your heads, bolted tightly to the skyscraper. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel. And then you see his face.

The pixels don't do him justice. They make him look flat and annoyed and pale, and you know first hand that he is so much more. He sits on a smooth, stiff black couch, beside the hero Endeavor. The interviewer- a man with a thin, weasel like face – sits to their left on a matching armchair.

You watch Hawks' face closely, trying to imagine there in the car beside you. He'd make some joke at the interviewer's expense. He'd tell you he smelled like onions, or about how tiny his feet were... something silly and stupid. Anything to try to get you to laugh. You don't even register what the interview is about until the camera moves, focusing in on Endeavor's brutal, livid glare.

“What my partner does with his personal time is his business.”

“Are you sure you won't comment on their potential children?” the interviewer probes. At this, Hawks chokes, his face turning red just as quickly as yours. “After all, you had four children through a quirk marriage, so we know-”

“You don't know anything. I won't repeat myself again.”

“And there you have it, folks!” the interviewer sings, gesturing towards the duo. “Endeavor, the number one pro-hero in everything but personality!”

Hawks opens his mouth to protest, and as his bushy eyebrows furrow, you feel laughter bubble in your chest. You recognize, even from this distance, even through a screen, the storm brewing in his eyes.

“And you,” the weasel-man says, pointing to Hawks, whose mouth moves soundlessly. Your lover's face takes on a feral look, his clawed fingers tapping roughly on the microphone attached to his shirt. “We've heard plenty of rumors of this girl you keep shut in at him, but you never seem to care to comment. Anything you'd like to say?”

Hawks shakes his head forcefully. That familiar defiant light enters his eyes, and you know he won't budge. A screen begins to lower behind the three men, as Hawks and Endeavor become more and more agitated. The interviewer reaches out, and black goop shoots from his fingers, cementing the heroes to their couch. The camera readjusts its view as pictures are projected along the screen. Pictures of girls, blondes and brunettes and redheads. Skinny, curvy, muscular. Some posing on the front of magazines, some posing with Hawks himself.

“What's the difference between them and her? You never seemed to worry about keeping them out of sight. My, my, even your breakups were rather public.”

“They have nothing on her.” Hawks' mic is working again. “She's different.”

“You're right, there. She's quirkless. She can't challenge you, so there's no competition. You're automatically the better of the couple.”

Hawks' fists are clenched. Your nails bite into the skin of your arms.

“Right? Right?!”

The car behind you honks loudly, repeatedly, and you realize that the traffic has begun to clear. You tear your eyes away from the screen, hands shaking as you grip the steering wheel and move the car forward. It seems like seconds pass, and you're in front of your apartment. The home you share with Hawks.

You keep driving.

First Part

Next Part

#fill the void #bnha #mha #my hero academia #hawks #bnha hawks #endeavor #goopy weasel man #aka my favorite oc #reader insert #hawks x reader #suprise!! #i haven't finished anything else sooooooo #another two parts left after this #maybe three

[lalka-laski]

Where is your favorite place to get fries? Now this is my kinda question! I have a serious soft spot for curly fries, and Arby's in particular are bomb. And can't forget the cheese dipping sauce!

What is the most recent article of clothing you’ve purchased? A whole bunch of random shit from Amazon, most of which I'm returning. Yes I know, it's bad for the environment. It's a bad habit I'm trying to break.

Have you ever paid for anything with a check? I have before but it's very rare. I don't even know where my checkbook is currently.

Do you know anyone who was raised by their grandparents? No one that I'm that close with

Have you ever made your own pie from scratch? Nope. That sounds like my nightmare actually. I love to cook but despise baking!

Who was the last person you had an in-depth conversation with? Glenn, probably.

Are there any waterfalls nearby? I live about an hour's drive from Niagara Falls. There are several other parks nearby with mini falls, but of course nothing beats a literal world wonder!

What was the last food item you ate? Cheddar, broccoli & potato soup

What are your earliest memories of going to see a doctor? I remember my pediatrician very vividly. I definitely overstayed my welcome at that office ha...

Can you hear traffic right now? Nope

Have you ever pulled a muscle? Yep

What did you do last weekend? This past weekend I celebrated one of my closest friend's bachelorette parties. It was a lot of fun 'till my anxiety kicked in and I spiraled out of control. Thank God for understanding, caring friends who encouraged me to go home where I'd feel safer and calmer, and for my supportive fiance for making the drive to come get me. I'm very lucky to be surrounded by such pure love.

What is your favorite gaming console? None

Are you talking to anyone via instant messaging right now? Mhm, Glenn

Have you kissed someone today? I gave Glenn a kiss on the head when I left for work this morning

What is your favorite condiment? Mayonnaise. Bonus points for fun flavored ones like sriracha or garlic aioli.

Do you have a strong opinion for or against Justin Bieber? I am entirely too old and too removed from the popular music scene to have any kind of opinion on him. He's fine, I guess?

Have you used a telephone today? Yep, my work landline and my cellphone of course

Do you prefer coffee or tea? I love 'em both!

Have you taken a painkiller today? Nope but I wanted to

How many theaters does the closest movie theater from your house have? Uhh I have no clue. I'm not a movie goer.

Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? We have a random assortment of seltzers and beers

Have you ever had a pumpkin latte and if so, did you like it? Yeah. They're fine but not my favorite.

Have you had a nap today? I freaking WISH

Is there an antique store in your town or city? Mhm

Have you ever been to a baby shower? Yep. I hate the cheesy games but overall I find them fun!

Do you have a hyphenated name or know anyone with one? (eg. Carter-Brown) Nope. I briefly considered it but have decided to just change my last name altogether.

What would you wear if you were being taken out to dinner tonight? Well I'd actually prefer not to leave the house tonight. As soon as I get home from work, my ass is staying in jammies! We are gonna order Grubhub though. I'm thinking Taco Bell!

What were the last shoes you wore? Flip flops, always

Do you know anyone who has been to rehab? Yes. And I'm really proud of anyone who has made that choice for themselves.

Have you ever had a mojito? I honestly don't think so? I've had precanned cocktail versions of them but not an actual one.

Do you take your Christmas decorations down before or after New Years? We're superstitious and take them down before January 6th, lest the hobgoblins come get us!

What is the first thing you do when you get online? Facebook, usually. Although I'm considering deleting

How many romantic relationships have you been in so far? Uhh only 3 "real" and long-term ones. I was more of a casual fling kinda girl before settling down with Glenn.

Have you ever been camping in the wilderness? Not quite. Just on campgrounds, so that hardly counts.

Do you have any money on you right now? Maybe a dollar and some change.

Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? I'm one of the least picky eaters I've ever known. There are only a handful of foods I dislike and even those I try to be flexible about.

Have you made a large purchase today? Nope. And I'm hoping not to make any for a long time.

What was the last candy you ate? Sour gummy worms

How often do you eat Subway? Bleh, never. We have Wegmans and Dibella's for REAL subs. You can keep your hot dog bun bread!

Have you ever lived in a house with a pool in the yard? The house I grew up in

What color is your toothbrush? Gold

Do you have gluten intolerance or anyone who does? I know a few people who do

Have you ever cried while watching a movie? L O L. It's rare if I DON'T cry.

First thing that catches your eye when you look out the nearest window? I can't see out this window.

Have you ever had a migraine? Honestly no. I've had killer headaches although I know those aren't the same thing.

Do you have a gym membership? Yes but I admittedly don't use it

Have you locked your front door today? Mhm

Have you ever slept in a car overnight? I don't think so

Have you washed the dishes today? Yeah, I washed my soup container and spoon after lunch.

Have you ever fainted? Nope but I've come dangerously close I think

Have you been awake before sunrise today? Sadly yes

When was the last time you went to the bank? Uhh it's been ages

Do you avoid conflict as much as possible? I try to

Have you ever used a leaf blower? Nope. I can't imagine that'd go over well...

[sapphicscholar]

A/N: Before you yell at me, I ask you to remember that my lesbians *always* live and typically get a rather happy ending.

Chapter Text

“Excited to have two whole days off?” Maggie whispered, her fingers flitting beneath Alex’s sweater as she wrapped her arms around her.

“You have no idea,” Alex sighed. “Just need to make it through tonight’s high school reunion madness at the bar, then you have me all day for Thanksgiving.”

“Now when you say have you…” Maggie’s voice dropped in time with her hands, feeling more than hearing the way Alex’s breath hitched as Maggie’s fingers skimmed beneath the waistband of her jeans. “In what way do you mean?”

“Whatever way you want me.” And god, how true it was. Alex couldn't tell if it was the impending holiday season or the way Maggie had been so supportive of her work, listening as she talked about her research, asking questions, holding her hand when thinking about some of these projects being put into action just got to be too much, but she couldn't help but feel like something had shifted between them over the past couple of weeks. Sure, she'd felt something building, like there were emotions creeping in that went beyond the comfort of having someone who understood and the overwhelming attraction that exploded into some of the best sex she'd ever had on a fairly regular basis. But this—this was new. This felt an awful lot like the kind of relationship worth fighting for, even if she knew it had an expiration date come the end of this assignment.

“Across from me at the dinner table it is," Maggie teased, her laughter light and free as it rang through the air. She'd picked up ingredients to make mashed potatoes, cornbread, macaroni and cheese, and roasted veggies—everything they needed for a relatively stress-free, vegetarian-friendly Thanksgiving—and had plans to prepare everything while Alex was working at the bar that night, helping to make sure she didn't have any more work on her plate, though Alex volunteered to pick up a pie to bring home for dessert at the very least. Maggie had to admit, everything felt rather domestic, but unlike with Emily and the others, she found she didn't mind it—quite the opposite, in fact. She didn't dwell on the reasons for that change, though she found herself replaying Alex’s sleepily muttered confession in her mind before she fell asleep at night, when she let her thoughts wander in the shower, when they kissed goodbye and bit their lips and said nothing more than, "See you when you get home."

“Tease.”

“Mm, but you lo—like it.”

“On occasion.”

“Tell that to my next door neighbors.”

“Hush, they could use a little nighttime entertainment.”

“Didn't know you were such an exhibitionist, dear.”

“Out of the lab," Alex declared, shooing Maggie toward the door. "You're distracting me.”

“Just gonna keep pointing out that I don't normally hear you complaining...”

Shaking her head, Alex laughed. “I’ve got work to do. You know I told Sam I would get her something before our long weekend. I just want all four days to be left alone with you—no Sam or Victor or even the bar.”

“Mm, it does sound rather delightful, doesn't it?”

“Curling up in sweatpants and watching old movies. Eating too much food and finding…inventive ways to work it off. Yeah, I think it sounds pretty amazing.”

With a nod, Maggie left Alex to her work. She'd found herself beyond impressed with just how driven Alex was, especially once she realized she would be able to bug the device at a structural level. The news that they might be able to eavesdrop on Lillian, get ears into the very heart of Cadmus, had left even J’onn and Kate celebrating together without sniping about their respective organizations—a true holiday miracle if Maggie had ever seen one.

Content with the results of her final round of testing, Alex sent a text to Sam letting her know that she would be able to get the prototype for Project Helios whenever she wanted it. The idea that they might finally fall one step ahead of Lillian, might finally get the jump on her instead of the other way around, left her exhilarated. After a quick stop by Maggie's office to give her a kiss goodbye and leave the prototype with her for Sam to pick up later that evening, Alex slung her bag over her shoulder, pulled on her gloves and helmet, and took off on her bike, shivering slightly at the brisk late autumn wind that whipped at her face as she turned into traffic.

One short stop at an absurdly crowded bakery later, Alex had her pie and finally made her way down to the bar, groaning at the sight of the packed tables and long lines. It came as an unpleasant shock, even though she knew ahead of time just how crowded the bar would be with everyone back from college and their first years in new careers and eager to escape their families and the bedrooms that either felt like shrines to their high school selves or had been converted into workout rooms and home offices, the tiny twin-sized air mattress crammed into the corner the only reminder that someone was meant to sleep there for the next few days.

"Cat!" Waverly called out to her, waving as she slung a round of beers down the bar. "Thank god you're here!" Nodding and waving back, Alex steeled herself for the night ahead.

Several long, taxing hours later, Alex and Waverly slumped down into one of the relatively clean booths. "That was insane. And who the hell was the chick that ended up taking shots on top of the bar?"

"Oh, Wynonna?"

“As in your big sister Wynonna?”

“The very one." Waverly bit at her lip and pushed her hair back from her face. "Sorry, I would've introduced you if we had a second—I kind of forget that there are people who don't know her yet. I'm sure she'll be by again before she leaves.”

“I'm sure,” Alex muttered, closing her eyes and imagining, just for a moment, that they didn't have at least half an hour of intensive cleaning in front of them. She was beyond grateful for the busboys in the back doing the dishes. If she still had to wash all those glasses… She shuddered at the thought.

“So, uh, how's, you know, everything," Waverly said with an exaggerated wink, "going for you and Maria?”

Gritting her teeth, Alex forced a smile. "Just fine, thanks.”

“Alright, well, you let Nicole and me know if you need any help."

“Mhm, of course." She had no intention of letting them any closer, but she tried to remember that Waverly was simply trying to be helpful, that she probably wasn't someone they needed to be particularly suspicious of, even if she and Nicole knew a bit more than she would have liked.

Eventually they pulled themselves up, grumbling about having to be back on their feet once more, and split up the tasks, finishing sooner than Alex had expected, though much later than she would have liked in an ideal world. After all, she had a pie to deliver and a woman to snuggle.

"Have a good night!" Alex yelled from the doorway, making sure Waverly was on her way out too. Just because she didn't necessarily want her working the case didn't mean that she didn't care about keeping her safe. Though after last week’s rather impressive display of physical strength, she supposed she didn’t have to worry too much about run of the mill intruders. Cadmus on the other hand…

Hustling to the door, Waverly took it from Alex, locking both the top and bottom and pulling it to check for good measure—things always got a bit crazy when everyone came back to town. "Happy Thanksgiving, Cat."

"You too. Send my best to Nicole."

Waverly nodded and with a wave she was off. Alex pulled her hat down a little further in an attempt to ward off the chill she could already feel seeping under her clothing as she fumbled with her bike lock. Throwing her bag over her shoulder and making sure the pie was as close to secure as it would get strapped to her rear rack, she kicked off and began her ride back home. Even with temperatures that felt much closer to wintry weather than she would have liked, she couldn't help the giddy smile that spread across her face at the knowledge that she was heading home to Maggie, getting ready to spend a holiday weekend curled up together, a temporary reprieve from the anxiety of their work and the need to be constantly vigilant, constantly not themselves.

Speeding down the hill and trying to focus on how nice it was not to be pedaling up it rather than on just how raw her face felt or the way her eyes watered painfully at the rush of cold wind, Alex barely noticed the driver's side door of the SUV parked on the side of the road fling open right in front of her, blocking the bike path. With only a moment's notice, the brakes barely even slowed her down before she went crashing into the inside of the door, bracing herself for the impact as her helmet slammed into the window and her body fell sideways, leaving her halfway inside the car.

"What the fuck!" Alex spat, anger rising quickly from somewhere deep inside of her. All she wanted was to get home to Maggie, to have one fucking day off. "Fucking look before you open the goddam door!" Alex yelled, finally managing to pull herself out of the vehicle and up onto legs that trembled with adrenaline and shock. "Sam?"

"Mm, sorry dear." She didn't sound sorry, and as she stepped out of the car and shoved a still shaken and confused Alex into the backseat, she definitely didn't look upset. "Need to borrow you for a moment."

"My bike! My pie!" Alex stammered uselessly, her head spinning and her thoughts fuzzy as she tried to figure out what exactly was going on. When Sam hit the gas and the engine roared to life, however, Alex snapped into focus. "Where the fuck are you taking me?" She scrambled for her bag, which Sam had thrown up into the front seat, before finding herself pushed back with an elbow to the chest.

"I need you to stay calm. You may come up to the front seat if you promise to behave."

"What. Is. Going. On." Alex asked, her voice firm and steely, even as her heart raced.

“I need you to help me with something in your lab.”

“Then come by during the day like a normal human," Alex huffed.

"”No one else can know."

“Why?"

Ignoring Cat's question, Sam regarded her in the rearview mirror. "Lillian was impressed by Project Helios."

“Great."

“You don't sound enthusiastic."

“I've just been kidnapped."

“Oh, Cat, don't be so dramatic. You're being borrowed for a few hours."

“Against my will."

“It's not as though you're being held at gunpoint."

“Ah yes, just thrown into a car door and shoved into your backseat. Definitely consensual."

“Lillian is ready for you to get started on the next project."

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is all this about a fucking project? I have a life! You people aren’t paying me!"

“Oh, but now that phase one can be completed, Lillian's happy enough to start bringing people on at a...higher level."

"What's phase one?" Alex asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Surely a defensive measure couldn't constitute an entire phase of an operation.

Sam waved off the question. "You sound suspicious."

"What? No."

"Are you sure? You certainly wouldn't be the first to...question her methods."

“Jesus fucking christ, I’ve more than proven myself to the fucking cause,” Alex growled, sick and tired of the sheer amount of effort she was being forced to put into joining a terrorist organization that wanted nothing more than to kill her baby sister and everyone like her.

“I’m not questioning your commitment, Cat. Merely…wondering if you have thoughts about Lillian.”

Alex thought back to the recordings from Sam’s home, to the few bitter phrases thrown out before all she and Maggie could hear were the grunts and moans that left them both cringing. Figuring it was worth taking a chance when she was already kidnapped, Alex shrugged. “I’m not really working for her. I’m working for a cause.”

Hiding her smile, Sam nodded. “Mhm.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I like working with you, isn’t that enough?”

“How much would you say you like working with me?”

Figuring it was better to sound off base in a more innocent way than to guess wrong in a direction that could actually put her in trouble, Alex glared. “I’m perfectly happy with Maria, and we’re not open to adding a third.”

Sam’s bark of laughter echoed in the car, chilling Alex in a way that no amount of threats had. “Luckily I’m not asking.”

“So what are you asking?”

“What are your thoughts on Project Hydra?”

Blinking rapidly, Alex tried to clear her thoughts; she suspected there was absolutely something she was missing—some hint as to what Sam was really getting at that her sleep-deprived and possibly mildly concussed brain wasn’t catching. She thought back to the brief conversations she’d had with Kate and J’onn, to the suspicions they’d had that Hydra might be for controlling Cadmus agents, rather than alien threats, and the way Sam had seemed less than enthusiastic when she first brought it to her. “I don’t know…seems odd that we’re looking for something for human hosts when the whole point is getting rid of aliens.” She hoped it sounded innocuous enough if Sam was only testing her loyalty.

The look on Sam’s face suggested she had just passed the first test. “Yes, this earth is for the humans, isn’t it? And what are we doing if not making it better for humans?”

“Yeah, exactly.” The thought turned Alex’s stomach.

“It does seem…odd that Lillian would put so much time and effort into a project that really doesn’t further our ends.”

Alex nodded in agreement, looking around in confusion when she realized that they were nearing the office.

“I have something I’d like you to test—then I promise, you can go and enjoy the rest of your holiday weekend.”

“Maria’s going to want to know where I am.” Sure, she had left the bar earlier than she expected to, so Maggie wouldn’t actually be nervous just yet, but she would wonder if Alex didn’t text soon.

Parking the car a block away from Maria’s office, Sam grabbed Cat’s bag, fishing in the front pocket for a phone. “I’ll let her know you’re okay.”

Alex grimaced as Sam held out the phone for her to unlock in, knowing she wasn’t in a position to deny her request and risk looking suspicious. If Sam were planning a coup, she’d want to know that everyone on her side was perfectly loyal. She tried to think about what their last texts were; she knew they were smart enough not to use real names, but she just hoped there wasn’t anything that could ring alarm bells.

“Maria texted you several times,” Sam noted, scrolling through what felt like an endless reel of notifications, her brow furrowing. “They are…explicit.”

Alex had never felt quite so grateful to have been caught sexting. “Well if there’s pictures, you don’t get to look.”

“Yes, yes, the jealousy of young love.” Shaking her head, Sam texted, “Be a little late. Picking up something from the lab.”

Alex prayed that Maggie would know her well enough to know something was up—hell, prayed she’d know her well enough to know she’d never just ignore a string of messages she assumed were all about the many filthy things Maggie wanted to do to her the second she got home.

Across town, Maggie furrowed her brows in confusion. Sure, she hadn’t expected the great American (erotic) novel in response, but she thought she might get a little something for telling Alex just how wet she was thinking about tasting her instead of a note with periods and all. And why the hell would she be going into the lab when she’d made such a point of wrapping up the project before she left? Clicking on the monitors, Maggie loaded the camera feeds, watching as Alex was led into the office, still wearing a helmet and her bike gear, Sam close behind her looking much too in control.

#undercover(s) #sanvers #alex x maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #ofc #fanfic #ao3feed #supergirl

[wild-magical-free]

I want to cook and clean and iron shirts…and I hate ironing

4/20/2010

“My mind blinks like a traffic light.

It’s green and red and stop and go. Changing all the time.

And it makes me scared, that I haven’t loved.

That it’s still right here, more or less.”

The question weighing constantly on my mind is “What do I want in a relationship?" I feel lukewarm as a person in this very instant. Where did my strong sense of what is truly important go? I remember times when I was younger, where I would go through seasons and one day I would look in the mirror and not recongnize myself. I was making choices that I knew weren’t me. The problem I’m facing now is… me, has changed. I was driving home today and had one of those rare moments where EVERYTHING was right in the world. One of those cosmic moments where every facet of life combines in just the right way. It’s that moment that an indestructable smile finds it’s way to your face and you grin like an idiot for as long as you can remember because EVERYTHING IS RIGHT IN A SINGLE MOMENT. I think that’s perfection.

So What do I want in a relationship? What is truly important to me? I can think of no better way to say it then just to list anything I know that I want. Well I should start with the way I feel love. Here it comes Bonnie and A-Tank.

I want someone who devours every word I write, all the stupid ones alongside the brilliant ones :) I want someone who wants to read my book, and every article or essay I write. I want someone who reads my blog :) and even my stupid facebook. I can only compare it to the scene in Brown Sugar where the man she is seeing hasn’t had time to read her article, and the man that loves her has read every word she’s written. It’s love. I totally get it. Some people are quality timers, or wanna hear nice things, or want nice things done for them…. I’m a word girl…I want to be known.

I want someone who loves music. This is a mix of prophecy and sheer desire. I guess it has always been in the back of my mind from my words, but it’s always been in the front of my mind for my own reasons. I want someone who sings to me on my voicemail.

I want someone who loves Jesus. Not someone who says, oh yeah, I love Jesus to pacify me, but someone who really has their own relationship with God for themselves.

I want a man who loves kids and will be a good father.

I want someone who thinks fighting about money is stupid! I honestly can’t say that I want someone who thinks fighting is stupid because you know they way i like to argue… it brings growth, and keeps you mentally young :)

I want someone I can sit in silence with.

i want someone who gives flowers just because

i want someone who would rather have books in a bedroom than a TV

i want someone who holds my hand in the car

i want someone that can handle my family and my CRAZY friends!!

i want someone who doesn’t mind who I am….that i am irrational and crazy and a huge nerd and that i collect bandaids and talk into fans like im darth vader but am too scared to watch the star wars movies alone..I want someone who doesn’t mind that I can listen to the same song on repeat forever and that I wanna walk down the aisle to "tied to the whipping post”… I would rather fix a house than decorate one. and above all else im freaking emotional, so basically I want someone who knows all of that and can still stand to be in the same room as me, the acquired taste that I am.

So When it comes down to it. What do I really want? a real relationship. I want to cook and clean, and iron shirts…and I hate ironing, but since it seems to be what i think about, i’ll take that as a sign.

This is backwards here at the end, but i needed to decide If I wanted a relationship or a fling because honestly there are huge parts of me that are impatient (for lack of a better word)…. I see the majority of my friends married with children. And not that i’m rushing to be them because relationships scare me to be honest, but since it seems to be what I really want i should probably not date someone just because they are “there”… i guess that’s technically called using. I should also obstain from “bad” positions because I am weak in the flesh. So glad that’s all cleared up. Momentary satisfaction does not a TRULY HAPPY Jane make… and I want to be TRULY HAPPY.

[rohad93]

Masks

RWBY Superhero AU Whiterose

The city of Vale.

A glimmering city of beautiful vistas, well known for its sprawling parks and greenery. While not the technological mecca of it’s sister city, Atlas; it’s not without its modern splendors. More than a few highrises dotted the skyline of Vale.

One thing Vale had that Atlas didn’t; and as far as they were concerned Vale could keep, was Cinder.

A villainous woman with the power to summon pitch black monsters with white masks and glowing red eyes known as Grimm. She was far from the only villain to plague Vale, but was indeed the most prolific. The violent faunus gang known as the White Fang and their leader, Adam Taurus certainly tried to give her a run for her money.

Luckily for Vale, they had something else no one else had. Heroes.

Glass shattered, drowning out the screaming of panicking people as a pair of Beowolf grimm crashed through the windows of the 23rd floor of Schnee Energy.

Board members tripped over themselves and each other as they backpedaled away from the looming beasts.

Chairwoman Weiss Schnee jumped to her feet in surprise, turning to face the approaching beasts, surprise morphing into a sneer.

“Cinder,” She growled under her breath as the lithe woman sauntered into the room, flanked by the Grimm.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Cinder smirked, glowing amber eyes casually looking over the rooms other occupants before stopping at Weiss. “Miss Schnee.”

“What do you want?” Weiss glared defiantly at the criminal, even as a single bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck and her muscles tensed.

Cinder deigned not to answer, instead merely snapped her fingers and one of the beasts lumbered forward, and snatched up the metal case sitting on Weiss’s desk.

“Just needed to pick something up.” Cinder smirked.

Despite common sense telling her not to, the sight of the case in the beast's hands spurred Weiss into movement.

“No!” She took only a step before the second Beowolf lunged, knocking Weiss to the ground, its weight pressing into her painfully. Bloody soulless eyes boring into her frightened blue ones as it snapped its fang lined jaws in her face.

“I got what I came for, you should have stood aside.” She held up her hand, ready to snap her fingers and let the Beowolf rip out Weiss’s throat.

Shing

The Beowolf holding the case dropped to the ground, cut neatly in half and already dissipating into black smoke.

Cinder jumped back, scowling at the red cloaked figure now standing across from her, a large imposing scythe drawn back, grimm ichor still dripping from it’s blade.

The second grimm abandoned Weiss to lunge at the new hooded figure only to be ducked under and in one spin cut neatly into two chunks of smoking carcass.

Her view no longer obstructed by the hulking black beast, Weiss of course recognizes the hooded figure from the news and papers, though never before in person. The black jeans and shirt were by far the least notable thing about the new arrival. A hooded cloak the color of fresh blood and a metal wolf mask peeking out from under said hood were the standouts.

“The Red Wolf,” Weiss muttered.

Amber eyes glanced down at the case only for a red and black boot to step on it possessively.

“Don’t you ever take a break?” Cinder snarled as she pulled out a pair of short blades and charged.

A swift kick sent the box skittering across the ground and straight into Weiss’s hands.

“Get out of here!” Red Wolf ordered as blades clashed.

Weiss hesitated only a moment before running for the door, the other board members having taken their leave already.

“Damnit!” Cinder cursed turning to give chase only to be forced back as she blocked another strike from the oncoming scythe.

“Not so fast Cinder.” Red growled as she flashed forward, scattering rose petals as she spun around, using the momentum to deliver a powerful slash, flinging Cinder out the 23rd floor window from which she’d come.

Wasting no time she jumped out the window and followed, twisting the massive weapon around in front of her and firing 3 quick shots, each was deflected but had the desired effect of greatly slowing her fall.

She could now see the four black beasts waiting for them on the ground.

Making small jumps off the building to slow herself Cinder kicked off the wall, landing in a roll and running down the street as two of the beasts jumped to meet the hooded hero.

A boot to one snout propelled her back up enough to swing the blade around and pop a hole into both monsters heads.

The second she touched the asphalt the other two were charging. A quick spin turned both beats to ribbon.

A quick glance around confirmed that Cinder was gone.

“Shit.” She mumbled to herself. She could now hear the sirens in the distance getting closer. That was her cue. With a flick of her wrist the scythe folded up and was stowed beneath the cloak.

Glancing back at the company headquarters she saw the young chairwoman and CEO she’d just saved staring at her intently from inside the lobby, clutching the metal case Cinder had wanted to her chest.

Those blue eyes stared so intently it made her a little nervous. Unsure she held up her hand and gave a little wave.

Searching blue eyes widened in apparent shock.

Unsure what else to do with herself she shot off, leaving a shocked CEO and a cloud of rose petals in her wake.

Running through the back alleys of Vale allowed the hero to shake anyone who might have had any big ideas and let her zip right up the wall to her apartments open window.

“Phew!” Pulling off her mask Ruby Rose let out a breath. What a day. She pulled off her cloak and unclipped Crescent Rose from her belt, securing everything in it’s place before walking out of her room to find her sister, lounging on her couch and watching the tv.

“Yang! What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” The blonde quipped with a grin. “Busy day?” She asked nodding to the tv, where a live broadcast was already playing about the incident at Schnee Energy.

“...thwarted by Vale’s very own Red Wolf.” The anchor recapped the events.

“What is that, the third time this week? Don’t the baddies have day jobs, or do they just sit around a dark room cackling to themselves all day and menacingly petting cats?” Yang wondered, tossing the remote aside.

“Who knows,” Ruby flopped onto the sofa next to the blonde with a sigh. Yang wrapped a thickly muscled arm around her shoulders and gave what she must have imagined to be a comforting squeeze but was a death grip to the smaller woman.

“Urgh! Yang, please.” She wheezed. The blonde just grinned but lessened her grip nonetheless. “If you kill me I can’t go on patrol tonight.” She ducked out of the hug to lean back against the sofa cushion.

“Fine, go, be the hero we need but don’t deserve.” She chuckled to herself.

“I am not Batman.” Ruby grumbled, giving her sister a slight kick without opening her eyes..

“Well duh, Batman is made up, you’ve stopped more real criminals than he ever has. Can’t say I don’t wish you were a millionaire philanthropist though.” She said making Ruby giggle.

“You and me both. Saving innocent people is it’s own reward but it’s not the best paying job.” Ruby agreed, pushing herself off the couch and walking into her tiny kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Yang hit the power on the tv and tossed the remote back on the coffee table before following her sister.

“Still got a while before you gotta go on patrol right?” Yang asked, leaning across the tiny island counter.

Ruby nodded around a mouthful of water.

“Let’s go get burgers, my treat.” She offered, her metal hand scraping on the counter as she pushed herself up.

“I dunno, Yang I…” A cold metal finger was pressed against her lips.

“No arguing, get in my car and let’s go.” Yang ordered, mouth set into a serious line but her lilac eyes showed her obvious amusement.

“Alright.” Ruby agreed with a wide smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ruby sat hunched over the edge of one of Vale’s high rises, the wind picked at her cloak, sending the ends fluttering in the breeze.

Everything seemed pretty quiet on the brightly lit street many stories below her, at least, as quiet as it ever really got in a busy city like Vale. The sounds of traffic and night life rose up to her ears, the occasional horn or angry yelling brought on by road rage.

She’d been doing this long enough to discern the difference between angry driver and people being chased by Grimm.

While she was paying attention to the going ons below her mind was drifting to a certain blue eyed CEO.

She was… really pretty. Ruby blushed beneath her mask.

“You’re awfully quiet for a change.” A voice cut through the relative quiet. Ruby jumped, whipping around to find a tall woman with long ebony hair, wearing tight black clothes and a mask over her glowing golden eyes. A pair black cat ears twitched at the sounds of the city.

“Nightshade, I hate it when you do that.” She sighed, muscles untensing.

Without a sound the other heroine sat next to her on the roofs edge.

“It’s all been pretty quiet tonight.” Nightshade observed. Ruby nodded at the observation.

Nightshade hummed quietly, observing her usually more exuberant colleague.

“I heard about Cinder attacking Schnee Energy, everything go alright?” She asked, trying to surmise her friends unusual quietness, it wasn’t easy to read someone when their face was covered by a full mask.

“She got away, but I stopped her from getting whatever she wanted and hurting anyone so it's, ya know.” She shrugged pausing for a second to consider her next words. “What do you know about Schnee Energy’s CEO?”

Nightshade’s ears twitched curiously.

“Weiss Schnee, third head of the Schnee Energy Corporation, her father was well documented for his morally contemptible business practices and controversial labor forces in the form of what nearly constituted enslaved faunus workers.” She recited. Behind her mask Ruby blinked owlishly at the information.

“Things have improved exponentially under Weiss, not just in her own business but with her influence, across the industry as a whole.” She finished, looking at Ruby.

“Um, that’s all good to know, but I guess I was looking for something a little more, personal? Like, is she nice?” It sounded kind of dumb after it had left her mouth, though Nightshade chuckled quietly.

“Public opinion says she’s rather...standoffish but never unfair or excessively rude. I’ve heard she can be quite kind in the right situation. Why the sudden interest, did you run into her at the company today?”

“Yeah, for a second. She was… watching me.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, Red, but a lot of people watch you.” She chuckled. Ruby huffed beneath her mask.

“Yeah, I know, this was different…” She mumbled. “It was, intense? I dunno, it's not important.” She hopped up and stretched. Golden eyes watched her intently. “Welp, doesn’t seem anything is going on tonight, so I’m gonna go get some sleep. See ya later, Night.”

“Be safe.” Were the dark woman’s parting words before her crimson counterpart disappeared over the side of the building.

Once she was sure she was well and truly alone she pulled her phone from the pouch at her hip and scrolled through her contacts before hitting call, despite her phone's clock telling her it was half past eleven.

“I’m working, what is it, Blake?” The voice on the other end answered without so much as a hello.

“Good evening to you as well, Weiss. I was just checking up on you, I heard about the attack.” She explained. An annoyed grunt followed the statement.

“You and everyone else. I’ve been fielding calls from reporters and news stations all day, and worst yet, my father.” She grumbled.

“I’m sure that was fun…”

“Be glad it was your day off.”

“On a lighter note, what did you think of The Red Wolf?” Blake asked casually.

The Businesswoman was oddly quiet, if not for the quiet breathing coming from her speaker Blake would have thought she’d hung up.

“She was interesting.” Weiss finally answered, to which Blake couldn’t help but smirk, Weiss displaying anything other than indifference or hate toward someone? Unheard of, with a handful of exceptions of course.

“She ran off so fast I didn’t even have a chance to thank her for her help.” The CEO grouched to herself but Blake heard the low mumbling. She hummed thoughtfully and smiled to herself.

“I have an idea.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite baby sister.” Yang grinned from behind the bar as Ruby walked into the pub.

“I’m your only sister.” she reminded, rolling her eyes and throwing herself up onto an empty barstool and setting her mail bag at her feet.

“You finished your route for the day already?” Yang cocked a brow. “You didn’t put any extra...oomph in it did you?” The blonde asked accusingly, she’d always worried about Ruby using her powers and getting exposed to the world.

“Of course I did. I risked my whole life just to deliver mail.” She stuck her tongue out just for Yang to flick her forehead before filling a pint glass with strawberry ale and sliding it to her sister.

“Speaking of...” Yang started turning to the big screen over the bar. “The CEO of Schnee Energy had a press conference this morning about what happened yesterday and some big banquet they’re throwing, I recorded it for you”

“Okay?” Ruby blinked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Listen to this.” Yang hit play on a paused recording.

“...In light of this, Schnee energy would like to extend an invitation to Friday night's gala to the Red Wolf…” Weiss spoke into the microphone.

Ruby sprayed the bar top with ale while Yang grinned from ear to ear.

“What!?” She looked around wildly, whispering when she turned back to Yang. “I don’t want to attend some fancy party!” She hissed.

“I don’t think you have much choice, to not show up would make you and Schnee Energy look bad, and I get the feeling they're not people you want to be on the bad side of.” Yang wiped the spray off the bar with a frown, she’d just cleaned that.

“What would I even do? What would I wear? A fancy dress and my mask?” She hissed. Yang shrugged but was grinning wildly, clearly enjoying her sisters new problem.

“But… but… I’ll just make a fool of myself at that thing.” Ruby moaned, dropping her head to the counter.

“ Come on Rubes, it won't be all that bad, it might actually be fun.” Yang ruffled the other woman's hair encouragingly.

“Oh yeah. Me, stuck in a room full of the richest people in all of Vale, how could that not go wrong?”

“Probably Atlas too, since that’s where the Schnee’s are from.” Yang supplied helpfully.

“Ughhh,” Ruby's head dropped back to the wood with a quiet thump. “Why me? All I do is serve and protect this city from monsters and evil doers, I don’t deserve this, why am I being punished?!” She whined.

Yang rolled her eyes at her sister's groaning. Trust Ruby to view an invitation to the most exclusive party in all of Vale as some form of divine punishment.

“Don’t worry, Rubes. After work I’ll go with ya and we’ll find you something to wear.” The blonde promised.

Ruby groaned pitifully but turned her silver eyes up to look at Yang.

“Thanks, Yang.” Her small smile spoke volumes to the bartender.

“What are big sisters for?” She grinned.

After Yang’s shift ended Ruby found herself lost in a sea of dress racks, but only before being shoved into a dressing room with dress after dress.

A few she outright refused, there neckline dropping somewhere around her navel.

“I can’t wear this Yang!” Ruby’s muffled cry came through the door.

“It’s cute!’ The blonde bartender defended her choice.

“It has no back!” Ruby yelled.

“It does... just, not much, besides, you're going to be wearing your you know what. No one will even see the back.”

Ruby was strangely quiet. Yang had a point, she was going to be wearing her cloak and mask, so no one one would even see her back. Unless she wanted them to, and she definitely did not.

She silently slipped on the dress before stepping out of the dressing room for her sister's opinion.

“Well?” Ruby held her arms out, letting her sister inspect her.

“Hmm,” Yang hummed thoughtfully.

The dress was black and stopped just above Ruby’s knees. Just as she said the back, or lack thereof was very low, stopping just below her waistline, the neckline not nearly as deep as the other dresses, though still a little deeper than anything Ruby was used to wearing and sheer black lace covered her arms from shoulder to wrist.

The lack of back covering revealed her usually hidden tattoo on her right shoulder of a circle of roses around the silhouette of a wolf head.

Yang let out a low whistle.

“Not bad, sis, not bad at all. Paired with the red ‘you know what’ and everyone will be looking at you.” She nodded to herself, pleased with her ability to pick dresses.

“Yang, I could wear a paper sack and people would still stare at me.” Ruby reminded.

“True, but now they're not going to just be looking at you because of that. There going to look at you and think, ‘Man, the Red Wolf has a poppin’ body!’ ” Yang whispered the last part making her sister's face go hot.

“Shut up!” She shoved the cackling woman away. “I don’t want people thinking… that!” She rumbled.

“Not even one person?” Yang wheedled, nudging her sister in the shoulder.

“Maybe, one person… someday.” She allowed, looking down at her socked feet. Yang wrapped her arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“Hey, before you know it you'll meet someone who can see how awesome you are, and not just for the mask, but for who you are behind it, trust me.”

“I know, I know...” She grumbled, disappearing back into the dressing room.

“So, all we need now is some shoes.” Yang chuckled to herself when her sisters groan hit her ears through the dressing room door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ruby inspected herself in the mirror dressed in all but her mask. The red and black was part of her signature; well, along with the wolf mask of course. She actually looked pretty good if she said so herself.

The only thing she had added to the dress was a piece of thick black fabric, tied around her waist to hold Crescent Rose in it’s place on her back. It was the same shade as the dress so it blended in almost unnoticeable.

She never went anywhere in the mask without her baby. She attracted to much attention.

The party was supposed to start at 8. She glanced at her alarm clock. 8:45; that should be fashionably late enough.

“Well, I guess i’m ready.” She took a deep, steadying breath before turning off her bedroom light and tieing her mask into place before silently slipping out her bedroom window to the empty alley below.

In a burst of speed she ran through the twisting back alleys until she deemed it a safe enough distance from her apartment to take a running leap onto the nearest building’s roof.

A quick survey of the busy city told her everything was running as it should before she took off, running and leaping from one rooftop to the next, crossing the city in bounds.

She lived in a pretty decent part of Vale, but the Schnee Energy banquet was being held in a very fancy hotel on the other side of town that Ruby had only ever driven past before.

The Diamond Ballroom was used as a venue for things like out of town dignitaries or parties thrown by the governor

Great, she was making herself nervous again. She really didn’t want to do this. Ruby didn’t get much out of her caped crusades other than a feeling of accomplishment and knowing that she did all she could to help those in need.

She at least got respect, people liked her, in all modesty, admired her a bit, even as others thought her a fool.

As the saying goes, it was better to let them assume you’re a fool than open your mouth and prove it.

She had the overwhelming fear that she attending this party was going to lead to her proving it. Not a person there wouldn’t be able to tell she was out of her element.

She sighed, dropping onto the roof of a building and walking to its edge. Across the street from the building she stood on, spotlights lighting up the exterior, was the Diamond Ballroom.

“Alright. You can do this!” She nodded to herself and dropped off the roof, her shoes landing with a quiet smack on the pavement below.

She zipped across the street to the entrance of the diamond ballroom, standing outside the doors she straightened her cloak and gave herself a nod.

“Alright Ruby, show ‘em what you got.” She pushed open the doors and walked into the lobby. More than a few people were walking around the lobby and nearly all of them turned to gape at her when she walked into the room.

“Starting out great.” She mumbled to herself.

“Ma'am?”

She turned to her left to find the doorman staring at her wide eyed.

“The Schnee Energy banquet is on the top floor.” He pointed toward the elevators.

“Thanks” She nodded, starting in that direction. Everyone stopped to gawk as she passed. Never in her whole life had she been as thankful for the cloak and mask as she was right now. It was all that stood between her and all the prying eyes and though it wasn't much, it was something.

She stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the 20th floor and then nearly broke the close doors button as she rapidly slammed her finger into it, desperate to get it moving before someone decided an elevator would be the best place to corner her for a moment alone.

Thankfully no one seemed brave enough and the doors dinged before sliding closed and leaving her alone, if only for a moment.

With rising anxiety she watched the number of floors grow steadily higher from behind her mask.

She was being ridiculous, she knew that of course, not that it helped, the prevailing thought that she wouldn’t have to stay very long did though. Go in...mingle? Talk to Weiss, leave.

The second part of that plan did give her pause.

That was why she was here, the CEO had invited her, for whatever reasons Ruby could only guess at, but she’d know before the night was over.

Maybe she needed help? Cinder was after something at the company building and she didn’t stop till she got what she wanted.

The quiet ding of the elevator startled her out of her thoughts. The doors slid open to a large open ballroom filled with the most elegantly dressed people she’d ever seen.

“Oh boy.” She breathed.

Across the room, dressed in an elegant off white A-line dress with blue detailing that hung just below her knees, Schnee Energy’s CEO was caught in a long and dry conversation with one of her family’s business associates.

“The budget is coming along but it may be a while yet before the board can come to a consensus about anything.” The older man standing across from Weiss shook his head in exasperation.

She nodded, only half paying attention to the man in front of her. This banquet was for charity, a chance for the elite of Vale and some of the other large cities, to raise funds for the city's impoverished; though honestly those attending used the chance to further their own agendas.

Not that she could claim innocence to that, having used the opportunity, at her best friend's behest; to meet and thank the Red Wolf in person for saving her and a very important asset to her company.

However, less than an hour into the evening and her patience was wearing dangerously thin.

Everyone and there mother had approached Weiss, making propositions to her for all number of things, partnerships to collaborations to subtly asking her to fund their projects.

It was grating and the Wolf had yet to show.

Weiss spotted Blake's bow topped head making her way over and excused herself, meeting her friend halfway.

Blake knew right away by the tightness of her jaw and the slight jump in her cheek that Weiss was nearing capacity.

“How’s it going?” She asked, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice for her friends sake.

“Splendid”

The deadpan expression did make Blake smirk, which only made Weiss’s frown deepen.

A flash of red over Weiss’s shoulder caught Blake's gaze and made her smile.

“Well, it seems like one thing at the very least will go your way tonight.” She nodded toward the front of the room.

Weiss turned to look and was greatly pleased to see Vales favorite cloaked hero wandering into the ballroom.

Gone were the ragged black jeans, faded t-shirt and combat boots to be replaced with a modest black dress revealing the Red Wolf truly was the woman her voice implied.

She was still wearing the red cloak and mask, but Weiss had expected nothing less.

Weiss took one step before Blake’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. Weiss blinked, looking at the other woman expectantly.

“Not to tell you how to conduct yourself, Weiss, but maybe when you go over there you should…” Blake hesitated.

“Should what?” Weiss frowned.

“Reel it back a little?” She suggested.

Predictably the CEO looked more than a little affronted. Blake held up a hand for her to stop before she even got going.

“You’re going to scare her.” She explained

“She’s a superhero.” Weiss argued.

“She’s a person.” Blake retorted, nodding to the hero on the other side of the room. “Look”

Across the room the Wolf had snagged a glass of champagne and held it in both her her hands, shoulders slightly hunched as people began to crowd around her, oblivious to her discomfort.

“She’s completely out of her element. That body language says she’s scared; or rather, very nervous” Blake explained.

Weiss watched the cloaked hero carefully, she spoke to the guests squeezing in close to her but not once did her bunched up shoulders relax and she clenched the glass in her hand like a lifeline.

Weiss cursed to herself under her breath, icy gaze turning back to Blake.

“Your ability to read body language so thoroughly is freakish, you know that?” The CEO huffed.

“It’s served you quite well in the past.” The faunus reminded. Weiss hummed in acknowledgment before straightening her shoulders and walked across the room to her special guest. The steely look in her eyes stalled any who would have stopped her to talk.

“Excuse me, ladies, gentleman; but I must speak to our special guest in private.” Weiss politely bullied her way through the throng of people that had gathered around the Red Wolf.

Ruby was so busy trying to field questions that she didn’t notice the young CEO pushing her way through the crowd until she was leading her away by the elbow. She blinked owlishly behind her mask as Weiss tugged her along past the gawking people and toward the open balcony doors.

Blake, watching from across the room slapped her palm across her eyes, her ears trying to flatten inside her bow.

‘Ugh, Weiss.’ She groaned. ‘What part of that is at all reeled back?’ The dark hero thought to herself.

“If you don’t assert yourself they’ll walk all over you.” Weiss informed her as they stepped out into the relative privacy of the balcony, the breeze picked up her hair and made Ruby’s cloak flutter.

“Thank you, Miss Schnee.” Ruby managed, trying to remember her manners in front of her host. Weiss sniffed in reply.

“Weiss will be fine and the irony is that I invited you here so that I could thank you.” Weiss said, looking into a pair of silver colored eyes through the eyes of the wolf mask. How unusual.

“The case that Cinder tried to take was more important than you could imagine and I feel indebted to you for saving it, along with my life of course and a Schnee never leaves their debts unpaid.” Weiss held her hands behind her back.

Ruby listened, dumbfounded.

“That being said, you can ask me for anything you like as repayment for what you did.” Weiss finished her definitely not practiced speech and waited for a response.

“Oh” was all Ruby finally managed to say after a beat of silence. “Well, thank you, Weiss, but it’s not necessary.” She said to the now slightly confused looking businesswoman.

“Perhaps I was to indirect..” Weiss cleared her throat. “I would like to offer you a monetary reward…”

A quiet giggle gave Weiss pause.

“No, I understood, I don’t need anything from you, Weiss. I appreciate the thought, really.” She tried to be gracious in her decline, something that only made Weiss all the more confused by the masked woman.

“Helping people has always been reward enough for me, I’m just glad I was able to help you.” Ruby smiled behind her mask.

Weiss was quiet, suddenly struck by the humility of the masked stranger in front of her. All anyone wanted from the CEO was money, or the path to money, here she was offering it, only to be turned down?

This was new.

“If you don’t mind me asking though, what was in the case Cinder wanted?” Ruby had wondered what could be so important that Cinder would go after it in broad daylight.

Weiss straightened up, coming back to herself.

“That is classified Schnee Energy information.” She recited, but paused. “Why?”

“I just figured if I knew what it was Cinder wanted I could figure out why she wanted it.” Ruby shrugged. “But I understand.” She finished quickly holding up her hands.

“You realize…” Weiss started slowly, stepping closer to the hero. “If I tell you, it must absolutely be kept a secret.”

Ruby couldn’t stop the laugh that pushed past her lips, had she not been so close, she would have missed the way the CEO’s cheeks darkened.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” She said, laughter dying into a chuckle and finally a grin. “I think I can keep a secret.” She whispered.

Weiss’s cheeks were on fire and she could practically hear the grin in the other woman’s voice.

“The case…” She began, voice low. “Contains a new form of propellant we’ve developed. Liquid dust.” Weiss said.

“Liquid dust?” Ruby repeated, mind already kicking into high gear. “Liquid dust could revolutionize the industry, it could be used in machines and devices that even powdered dust is to coarse for.” She quickly realized.

Weiss looked impressed by the quick deduction.

Maybe Ruby wasn’t a ‘batman’ level detective, but she was a certified mechanical genius.

“It will, when we finish working out the kinks. My development team and I have spent hundreds of hours working on it, though there seem to be many more to go before it’s ready.” Weiss frowned.

“You helped create it yourself?” Ruby’s eyes were wide in surprise beneath the mask.

“Indeed I did. I went to school for chemistry as well as business.” She smiled proudly.

“Wow, you must be super smart.” Ruby was in such awe she didn’t notice the CEO getting flustered.

“Why isn’t it out yet?” She questioned.

“It’s still experimental and incredibly volatile, we can’t yet, in good conscious release it, even for industrial purposes.” Weiss frowned.

“But why would Cinder want liquid dust?” Ruby scratched her chin beneath her mask, now thinking aloud to herself. “As far as I’ve gathered all she’s ever wanted to do is destroy everything, and as far as explosive things goes, there’s stuff way easier to get than experimental liquid dust.” She mumbled.

“It would be worth a fortune on the black market.” Weiss suggested.

Ruby hummed. Cinder had never seemed all that interested in money, but she was an opportunist, it was always possible.

“I’ll have to think about it...well, anyway, thanks Weiss, for inviting me.” Ruby turned fully toward her host.

“You’re leaving?” Her question was answered with a nod, hopping up onto the balcony railing, an impressive feat in heels, the wind picking at her famous red cloak.

“I...I really don’t wanna go back in there.” She nodded back to the party with a nervous chuckle and Weiss couldn’t say she blamed her.

“I still owe you a debt.” Weiss reminded before she could leap off into the night.

“You don’t...”

“I do!” Weiss insisted, cutting her off. “A Schnee never leaves their debts unpaid.”

“Oh, well...maybe next time I’m in the area you could buy me lunch or something?” The words were flying out of her mouth before she stopped to think about them.

Weiss seemed just as surprised as Ruby felt by the words for a moment before she was again the picture of poised and collected.

“I hope to see you soon then.” She said simply.

Ruby gave a nod, unsure what else to say before jumping off the railing, but not before a hard breeze sent her cloak billowing to the side, giving Weiss an eye full of her tanned, bare back.

Unblemished, save for the black and red tattoo of a wolf head in a ring of roses on her right shoulder.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was two weeks before Ruby was near the Schnee Energy Company, on a patrol around noon, after she’d asked Nightshade to find out when Weiss ate lunch.

The other hero seemed oddly amused by the request but had complied, after Ruby had agreed to a favor to be named later. That worried her a little, but not enough that she hadn’t readily agreed.

She really wanted to see Weiss.

The wealthy businesswoman seemed so smart and savvy.

She was more than a little pretty, too, with her long white hair and crystal clear blue eyes. The mysterious little scar over her left eye made Ruby curious.

The thoughts sent butterflies through her stomach.

Now here she was, running at max speed through the lobby of Schnee energy so that no one would see her as she sped up the stairs to the 30th floor, Weiss’s office.

Now standing in front of the large wooden doors she swallowed and steeled her nerves as she knocked.

The door was opened by a dark haired woman with a bow in her hair.

Her wide amber eyes blinked as she stared back at Ruby.

“Weiss, it’s for you.” She stepped aside, revealing Weiss, sitting hunched over her desk.

She glanced up only to jump out of her chair when she realized who was standing in her door.

“Red Wolf…” She greeted.

“Hey, and uh, just ‘Red’ is fine.” She said.

“Red, this my friend and assistant, Blake Belladonna.” Weiss introduced.

Ruby offered a hand, which Blake shook.

Something about the tall dark haired woman seemed so familiar to Ruby, but she couldn’t place it.

“Can we help you with something?” Blake asked curiously, fully understanding and ignoring Red’s quizzical stare.

“She’s here to have lunch with me.” Weiss stated as though commenting on the weather.

Blake’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. That was not what she had expected when Red had asked her about Weiss’s lunch schedule

“Ahh…” Was all Blake could manage.

“Is there anything in particular you want?” Weiss asked.

“Oh um… I like chinese?” it came out more of a question than a statement.

Blake chuckled, glancing at Weiss knowingly.

“Weiss should be well prepared than.” The assistant smirked as Weiss scowled in turn. Ruby just glanced between the two, confused until Weiss pulled a chinese take out menu from her desk drawer, obviously a frequent orderer.

“You may take your lunch, Blake.” Weiss nearly hissed, much to Blake’s amusement. She nodded and made her exit.

“You have your own balcony up here?” Ruby asked, wondering over to the glass door, blended into the windows around it.

“I work outside when the weather permits. Would you like to have lunch on the balcony?”

“Sure!” Ruby walked out the door and plopped herself onto one of the two chairs around the small metal table.

Weiss followed behind with the menu she’d pulled from her desk and set it on the table in front of her.

Ruby picked up the yellow and orange colored menu.

“The Sunny Dragon!” Ruby nearly yelped.

Of all the food places in Vale, Weiss was a fan of her dad's restaurant? It really was a small world after all.

“Do you know it?” Weiss asked, looking up from some papers she’d brought outside with her.

Again, glad for her mask, Ruby nodded.

“Ah, yeah, I go there often, actually.” Not a lie. She and Yang went to the restaurant all the time, though usually to help him out rather than eat. His food was great though.

Ruby already knew what she was going to order but made a small production of flipping through the menu anyway.

“Decided? Weiss asked.

“Yeah”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

‘Oh, sweet Lo Mein’ Ruby thought giddily as she opened the take out box.

Mindful of Weiss, she pulled her hood down to help cover her face as she pushed her mask up to her nose, just enough to see what she was eating, as well as eat it, without exposing herself.

Weiss couldn’t help but watch as Red pulled up her mask but all that was exposed was her mouth.

They ate in relative silence save for Ruby’s delighted hums. It was endearing, in a way.

This was rather surreal to Weiss.

Just three weeks prior she had only heard of the Red Wolf on the news or in the papers, now she was sitting across from her eating chinese take out.

“You know..” Red started, startling Weiss out of her thoughts. “The more I think about it, the more ideas I come up with for practical uses for your liquid dust.” She said.

“Oh?” Weiss cocked a brow, an amused smile on her lips. With the mask pushed up over her eyes Red couldn’t see it and nodded.

The smile on Weiss’s lips faded into a thoughtful expression as Red listed off some of the ideas and thoughts she’d had over the last two weeks.

Some she’d thought of herself but some of the Heroine’s ideas Weiss hadn’t even considered till now and her mind was already racing with ideas on how to implement them once they’d fixed their problems with the dust.

Before she knew it she was lost in deep conversation about the mechanical application of dust with Red.

She didn’t seem too know too much about the alchemic side of things but her knowledge of the mechanical more than made up for it.

Before anyone knew it, two hours had sped by.

“But the liquid ice dust could double as a coolant to keep it from overheating!” Red argued.

Before Weiss could say anything her office door opened and Blake stepped inside.

She was surprised to see Red still sitting across from Weiss on the balcony.

“I hate to interrupt, Weiss, but you have a meeting in fifteen minutes.” Blake reminded stepping outside.

“My meeting isn’t until three.” Weiss corrected, to which Blake merely cocked a brow, prompting Weiss to look at her watch and sure enough it was a quarter till.

“Ah, yes, thank you, Blake.” She cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry” Red jumped up. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long.” She apologized. She always got carried away when talking about mechanics, especially with someone like Weiss, who actually knew what they were talking about instead of nodding along while she blathered.

“Don’t be.” Weiss reassured her, standing up and walking around her desk. “Your ideas could help the revolution of dust, it’s given me a lot to think about for the application of the dust once we’ve worked everything out.”

“I’m sure you woulda’ figured it out yourself.” Ruby felt the heat from her cheeks in the mask at the compliment.

Again Weiss was struck by the woman’s modest nature.

“I should go. Thanks for lunch, Weiss.” Without another word she flung herself over the railing.

Blake and Weiss watched as she zipped across the buildings before disappearing.

Weiss turned to find her friend watching her with an amused smirk.

“What?” She scowled.

“Nothing.” Blake chuckled, walking back inside.

Ruby quickly made her way home to change out of her disguise and walked the three blocks to Yang’s bar.

“Hey sis. Usual?” Yang asked even as she was already popping the cap of the strawberry ale.

“Thanks, Yang.”

“What’s got you grinning?’ Yang asked, as Ruby quietly sipped on her drink at the end of the bar, a smile never leaving her lips.

“I had lunch with Weiss today.” She told the blonde quietly.

“Really? I remember you telling me about how you practically asked her out…”

“I did not!”

“But I didn’t think you’d ever actually go back.” Yang continued as though Ruby hadn’t said a thing.

“She wanted to repay me, it would have been rude not to.” Ruby grumbled, staring down at her drink. Yang could see her pink face.

“Oh!” Yang realized, voice filled with awe.

“What?” Ruby asked warily, seeing the delight on Yang’s face.

“Bless your gay little heart.” She drawled in her version of a thick southern accent. “You like her.”

“I do not! I mean, I do, but not like that.” the pink turned dark red. Even she knew how unconvincing that sounded.

“Wow, sis. No wonder you haven’t dated in so long, you have some rich and lofty standards.” The blonde was grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m leaving.” Ruby hopped off her stool.

“Aww, come on!” Yang ran around the bar to catch up to her pouting sister.

“No, leave me alone!” Ruby ran through the bar with Yang right behind her, arms outstretched for a bear hug.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Faster, Neo!”

“He’s getting away!’ Nightshade yelled over the sound of traffic as they chased down the speeding white cadillac with a back seat full of cash.

The flickering overhead streetlights kept Torchwick’s car in view

“No he’s not!” Ruby called back, firing up her powers and flying across the roofs of the cars between them and Roman Torchwick’s getaway car.

A flick of her wrist unfurled her scythe and with a jump she embedded it’s blade deep in the the metal of the trunk, making the car swerve wildly.

“You never give up do ya, Red.” Roman growled, turning around in the passenger seat to take aim at the masked heroine.

A shot rang out.

“Damn it!” Roman yelled as the gun flew from his hand.

From the roof of a truck three cars back golden glowing eyes were staring down the barrel of a gun.

Nightshades ability to see in the dark had just saved her hide.

Without missing a beat Ruby spun around, delivering a swift kick to Roman’s head. He fell back in the seat, out cold.

Up ahead flashing lights signaled where the police had set up their barrier.

Spinning the scythe around and pointing the barrel at Neo, Ruby gave her a silent choice. With a silent sigh and a frown the brown and pink haired woman gave a nod.

The car slowed to a stop just ahead of the barrier.

Once the police had collected both criminals and the money both Nightshade and herself vanished into the dark.

“Phew!” Ruby breathed as they found a quiet spot atop an office building. “That was a really good shot, thanks.” She turned to her dark colleague.

“Don’t mention it. Seems like that’s all the excitement for tonight.” She said surveying the city below.

“Yeah it’s...quiet..” She trailed off.

Looking over at Red she saw the woman looking at the Schnee energy building two blocks over.

All the windows were dark save for a single light on the 30th floor.

“Damn it Weiss. I told you to go home hours ago.” Blake thought to herself with a frown, knowing her friend was burning the midnight oil.

It had been a few days since she’d had lunch with Weiss and she was looking for an excuse to see the CEO again.

This seemed like an ideal opportunity. Pop in to check on her.

Keeping people safe and all that. She groaned internally at her own sad excuse.

“Good work tonight, Nightshade, I should get going though. See ya around.” She dropped off the building and out of sight. At least, most people’s sight.

Blake smirked to herself as she slid behind an AC unit out of sight. After a minute She watched Red slip onto Weiss’s balcony.

Weiss sighed, rubbing her eyes. Just a few more papers and she could call it quits.

A knock on the glass made her nearly jump out of her skin.

Whipping toward the noise she let out a breath of relief seeing the Red Wolf standing on her balcony and waving.

Collecting herself she walked over and opened the door, allowing Red to step inside.

“Hey, Weiss...I hope I didn’t scare you…”

“No...it’s fine. Can I help you with something?

“Oh, uh, no, I was nearby stopping a robbery with Nightshade and saw the light on, so I thought I’d… check on you?” She finished lamely.

“Checking on me?” Weiss was staring back at her almost amused as she sat back at her desk.

“Yea...well, it’s 9:30 on a Thursday night, kinda late to be working still.” She reasoned.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Weiss countered.

“Crime never sleeps, Weiss.” Ruby smiled behind her mask.

Weiss knew she was smiling by the lilt in her voice.

“Neither do investors.” she motioned to the papers stacked on her desk. Ruby chuckled as she took a seat in front of Weiss’s desk.

“You probably should, though.” Ruby said, smiling beneath her mask as they fell into playful banter.

“Don’t you have a day job as well?” Weiss questioned, cocking a brow. The tilt of her lips told Ruby she was only playing rather than digging for personal information.

“Well of course. I’m a newspaper reporter and I wear glasses so people don’t recognize me.” She grinned behind her mask

Weiss blinked slowly, seeming to be thinking before she scowled.

“That’s Superman, you dolt.”

“I know.” Ruby laughed.

They fell into a comfortable silence before Weiss’s stomach grumbled loudly. Ruby looked at the embarrassed CEO.

“Have you been here all day?” She asked.

Weiss grumbled in what Ruby could only guess was an affirmative.

“Do you like pizza?” She asked suddenly. Weiss wasn’t sure where the question had come from but nodded.

“Yes, why?”

Ruby stood up and held her hand out to Weiss.

“Come with me.” Was all she said.

Weiss hesitated a moment before taking the offered hand.

She was pulled up from her chair and led back to the balcony.

“Hold onto me and don’t scream.” Red said to her, before wrapping an arm around Weiss’s back and behind her knees, scooping her up and hopping up onto the banister.

“What!?” she started to wiggle but the grip on her back tightened. She looked up to find the silver eyes behind the mask starring into her own.

“Trust me, Weiss.”

Weiss swallowed thickly, giving a shallow nod and wrapping her arms around the heroine’s neck.

“Here we go!” Red leapt off the edge and Weiss clenched her eyes shut as they plummeted from the 30th floor, the air rushing past them.

Suddenly they slowed and tentatively Weiss opened her eyes to find them zipping across the rooftops at high speed.

Red would take five or so long strides and then launch to the next roof. The city whizzed by them in an almost undecipherable blur.

Weiss had almost become used to it when they abandoned the rooftops and stopped, dropping into an alley where Red let her down.

“What are we doing?” Weiss turned to Red who nodded toward the street. Weiss followed her out of the alley.

Parked in the road beneath a streetlight was a food truck with with big green lettering.

‘Polendina and Daughter pizza.’

They walked around to the front where the flap of the truck was open and a red headed teenager was working the register. She saw Red and smiled brightly.

“Red, my friend!”

“Hi Penny, where’s your dad?” Ruby smiled behind her mask at the ginger haired girl she’d saved last year from being hit by a car.

“He’s not feeling well tonight, I’m working by myself.” She said proudly. “Can I get you and your friend something?”

“I’ll have my usual. Weiss?” She turned to her companion who was gazing at the menu.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Weiss said.

“Two double cheese pepperoni coming right up.” Penny said before going to work.

Glancing around the area Weiss decided they were still in the nicer area of the city, not that she was too worried. She was in the safest place she could be; standing right next to the Red Wolf.

Speaking of, she was standing next to Weiss humming quietly to herself as they waited, content with the silence.

“Order up!” Penny called, holding out two paper plates with pizza. They took them with thanks.

Ruby started to reach for her wallet when Penny held up a hand.

“You know your money's no good here, Red.”

“At least let me pay for hers.” She practically begged.

“No can do. Dad would never allow it.” Penny said, smiling. “I need to close up now, good night you two.” She said before closing the metal flap of the tuck.

“Night Penny.”

Weiss followed as they walked back around the truck and tucked into the alley where Red could pull up her mask enough to eat.

Weiss looked at the oozing pizza skeptically before taking a bite.

It was the best pizza she’d ever had.

She looked up to find Red devouring her piece. Weiss followed suit, though with slightly more manners, digging in as they sat on the cement in silence.

Once all they had left were the paper plates Ruby turned to Weiss, to find those blue eyes already focussed on her.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Weiss?” She finally said.

Weiss looked a little wary at that but nodded.

“I suppose.”

“How did you get the scar?” Ruby asked

Whatever Weiss had been expecting that had not been it.

“A fencing accident when I was a teenager. I insisted on practicing without my helmet and my sister got me.” Weiss explained, running a finger gently over the old smooth scar.

She hated the thing.

“Oh, ya know though, I think it makes you look tough and mysterious.” She grinned and with her mask still pushed up Weiss could see the toothy grin and her heart thumped hard in her chest.

“I’ve... never thought about it that way.” She said quietly.

“So you have a sister? Older or younger?” She questioned.

“Older” She said and Red smiled.

“I have an older sister too.” She said. “She’s the one who always took care of me as a kid.” The fondness for this older sister was obvious in Red’s tone.

“You’re parents didn’t take care of you?” Weiss asked, brows furrowed between her eyes.

“My mom died when I was young...and I mean, dad took care of us but for a time after she died he….kinda...shut down for a little while.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago.” She assured. They sat there quietly for a while, taking in the quiet sounds of the city.

“You asked me a question, now let me ask you one” Weiss practically demanded.

“Oh...uhh, okay..” She agreed hesitantly.

Weiss thought for a second, she couldn’t ask really personal questions though there was something she wanted to know before she became...to invested.

“How old are you?”

“Oh, that's all?” Red giggled. “24”

‘Two years younger than me.’ Weiss thought to herself.

“My turn.” Ruby grinned to herself. Turning a single exchange into a game of twenty questions.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Kung pao chicken, you?”

“Hmm, I’m torn between cookies and mooncake…” She hummed.

“What is a mooncake?” Weiss asked.

Red turned to her with a gasp.

“You’ve never had a mooncake?!” Ruby couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“It’s a chinese dessert made for the Mid-autumn festival. They’re round cakes about two inches tall and they can be sweet or savory, I prefer the sweet. My dad makes the best cantonese-style mooncakes.” Ruby was drooling. She was so glad the mid-autumn was only a couple weeks away.

“So you’re Chinese?” Weiss asked.

“Eh, sorta? My dad’s half, I'm just a quarter, I’m pretty...white.” Ruby shrugged. “I look like my mom.”

Off in the distance the clock on the Vale 1st bank began to chime.

Eleven chimes. It was Eleven PM.

“It’s getting pretty late, you want me to take you home?” She pulled down her mask and looked to Weiss.

She could get a cab and as much as her common sense told her she should, that was the last thing Weiss wanted.

“If you don’t mind.”

She allowed Red to pick her back up and gave her directions before the hero took off across the city.

It was only a few minutes before Red was jumping the fence that surrounded Weiss’s estate, stopping at the CEO’s front door and letting her down.

“Thank you, Red. For the pizza and bringing me home.”

“Don’t mention it, I enjoyed your company.” She said, the mask hiding her red cheeks. “Well, goodnight, Weiss.”

Before she could say anything Red was gone, rose petals floating in her wake.

Weiss reached out and caught one between her fingers.

It was red and soft as any other rose petal she’d ever held. She closed it in her fist before going inside.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You seem awfully chipper today.” Blake couldn’t help but notice the extra something lifting her friends mood today.

Friday’s were usually everyone's favorite day in the office, with Weiss usually being the exception since she insisted on working at home even on the weekend; so to walk in and find her humming of all things was almost freaky.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Weiss asked. “Stocks are up and the tests on the liquid dust are coming along nicely.”

“Mhmm..” Blake hummed, turning away from Weiss to put some papers in the filing cabinet.

“Do you know something I don’t?” The annoyed tone was more than clear to her longtime friend.

‘Always’ Blake smiled to herself. “No, Weiss. I was just asking.” She appeased, walking up to Weiss’s desk and glanced over the papers. Her ears twitched beneath her bow.

“Weren’t these the papers you were working on yesterday?” She asked, knowing full well that they were.

Weiss never stopped writing but Blake could see the slight tense of her muscles.

“Yes, I decided that they could wait until today to finish.”

It took everything Blake had not to roll her eyes, knowing for a fact Weiss had stayed here working till the Red Wolf had whisked her away somewhere.

Where, Blake didn’t know, deciding to give them their privacy, she’d gone home after seeing Red leave the office with Weiss in her arms.

“Good, you need to rest more.”

Predictably The CEO hunched further over her work, guilty.

Blake was having entirely too much fun with this. She should stop.

“I’m glad you didn’t get carried away.”

Should, but wouldn’t

Despite Blake's subtle jabs through the day Weiss kept her rather sunny disposition. Well, sunny for Weiss anyway.

It was around quitting time that a frightened looking secretary knocked on Weiss’s office door and handed over the paperwork for a deal that was supposed to go through first thing Monday morning.

Weiss sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

“I'll stay and help.” Blake made herself comfortable in a chair.

“that's not necessary, Blake.” Weiss started just for Blake to give her a look Weiss had long ago figured out meant to just shut up and let her help.

“At least let me order us dinner.” Weiss said pulling out the take out menu for the Sunny Dragon.

“I guess I could let you do that.” Blake agreed with a grin.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Sure thing, it’ll be 20 minutes is that okay?….thank you!” Tai-Yang hung up the phone and got to cooking.

“Hey, Ruby!” the blonde man called over the sound of sizzling chicken.

What’s up, dad?” Ruby popped her head into the kitchen.

“Your uncles not here and Jaune is already out for deliveries, would you mind running this delivery for me when I finish?” he poured sauce into the wok and gave it a stir, handing her the paper with the order and the address on it.

“Sure thing.” She said about to duck out of the kitchen when he stopped her.

“Ruby, when I say run, I mean your car.” He said, smiling.

Ruby stuck her tongue out.

“One time when I was 15!” The 24 year old grumbled, stalking out of the kitchen, Tai’s laughter following her.

She glanced down at the address and nearly choked on her own spit.

‘Schnee Energy Company, floor 30.’

Did she know!? How could she have found out?!

“No, no, stop it, Ruby.” She mumbled to herself, taking a deep breath. Wesis ordered from here all the time. She knew that.

“Order going out, Sweetie.” Tai handed her the hot paper sack with Weiss’s food. “Be careful.” He threw over his shoulder before going back in the kitchen.

She grabbed the paper and the black backpack that contained her disguise and Crescent Rose..

“Alright, this will be fine.” Ruby assured herself as she got in her car, setting the food in the passenger seat. “Just… be cool.”

The drive to the SE building seemed to take forever, partially nerves on one hand, on the other she was used to visiting the building in her hero persona and running across buildings.

The sun had set about a half hour earlier and real darkness had settled over the city, the neon lights from various bars, clubs and businesses lit up the streets.

The lobby of the building was deserted at this time of day she noticed as she walked over to the elevator and hit the button.

For someone of her speed the ride up to the 30th floor seemed to take forever. It gave her too much time to think, and the more she thought about seeing Weiss as her regular self the more worried she got.

She was only slightly worried Weiss would recognize her. Deep inside she was more worried Weiss wouldn’t recognize her.

That was really what scared her. That once they knew the Red Wolf they wouldn’t like Ruby.

Yang could reassure her as many times as she wanted that the Red Wolf and Ruby Rose were exactly the same, but until someone outside her family said so she couldn’t believe it.

The Red Wolf was the city hero (well, one of. Nightshade was a total badass) She fought the Grimm and Cinder and helped Nightshade fight the White Fang and even plain old regular criminals.

Ruby Rose was a mail carrier who spent her evenings and weekends helping her dad in his chinese restauraunt or hanging out in the bar her sister worked at with friends..

What would a multimillionaire CEO as smart and beautiful as Weiss Schnee want with Ruby Rose: Mailman/waitress?

The elevator dinged and Ruby jolted, coming back to herself.

She pushed back her self-depreciating thoughts and stepped out of the elevator and walked up to the large wooden door to Weiss’s office.

She knocked loudly and waited. Only a few seconds later the door was opened by Weiss’s assistant, Blake.

“Ah, good you’re here, come in,” She took the food and stepped aside to let Ruby in the office.

Weiss was sitting at her desk bent over some papers.

“Weiss, the food’s here.”

Weiss looked up and Ruby felt a tingle run up her spine as blue eyes locked onto her for more than a second. This was the first time Weiss had ever seen her, her, without the mask and cloak.

“Oh, good.” She pulled her wallet out of her desk drawer and walked over, pulling out two twenty’s and handing them to Ruby.

“Here you are, you can keep the change.” She smiled and Ruby’s stomach flipped as she accepted the money, simultaneously disappointed by the lack of recognition in those pretty blue eyes. “Oh, thank you.” She nodded, accepting the money. And watching Weiss walk back to her desk.

From Weiss’s desk where she was rummaging through the paper bag Blake looked up, eyeing the delivery girl.

She’d never been to The Sunny Dragon, but something about the woman seemed so familiar to her, but Blake couldn’t put her finger on it.

Emptying the bag Blake discovered that there were no utensils.

“Weiss, we have no forks, I think I have some in my desk. I’ll be right back.”

She walked out of the office with the delivery girl.

Weiss turned around to look out the floor to ceiling windows. Most of the tall buildings were dark and still.

Something moved out there and Weiss squinted, looking hard out at the darkness. A large black shape...with two glowing red eyes.

Weiss barely had time to jump around her desk as the large black shape crashed into the windows sending glass flying everywhere.

The nevermore let out a loud screech.

Weiss was still shielding her eyes from the glass when she was roughly yanked to her feet.

She opened her eyes to Cinder, pressing one of her blades against her neck.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, Miss. Schnee.” The Woman said, pressing the blade just hard enough against her skin to draw a thin line of blood. Weiss winced but continued to glare.

“Weiss!” Blake ran back into the ruined office in time to see the nevermore take off with Weiss and Cinder.

“Fuck!” Blake cursed, as she ran and grabbed her bag from her desk, ripping off her bow.

Ruby sighed to herself as she stepped out of the building and walked toward her car.

Suddenly a loud screech filled the air.

Her eyes jerked up to see a nevermore flying away from from the SE building. Cinder standing atop the huge beast and next to her was a bright spot of white…

“Weiss!”

She grabbed her bag in the passenger seat and jolted into a nearby dark alley trying to change as fast as possible.

“Since I can’t have the liquid dust, I can have the next best thing. The brilliant mind behind it” Cinder turned her cruel gaze on the captive Weiss, whose hands had been zip tied behind her back.

“Why would you want liquid dust?” Weiss snarled.

“Why wouldn’t I want it?” Cinder countered. “Your competitors would pay through the nose for your company's greatest achievement, not to mention it’s highly volatile and explosive nature makes it equally valuable as a weapons component.”

A shot rang through the air and a bullet whizzed by Cinders head. They both turned to see Nightshade, swinging across the buildings by the long black ribbon attached to her weapon.

Weiss had never seen the other hero of Vale, most people hadn’t. She didn't let people take pictures of her, she didn’t give interviews and she was almost only seen at night.

“Pesky cat.” Cinder grumbled, attaching the two short swords together into a bow and drew back, an arrow materializing.

Nightshade was about to come up on the upswing and when she did she would be unable to maneuver out of the way of the arrow, at least Weiss assumed so.

Weiss gritted her teeth and shot off her knees, throwing her body into Cinder just as she let the arrow loose, sending it flying far over Nightshade’s head.

The Villainess wobbled, almost losing her balance, Weiss was not so lucky. Without her hands to catch herself she went tumbling off the side of the grimm.

“Ahhhhhh!” Weiss screamed as she plummeted toward the street below.

A rough jerk and she was suddenly swinging up and away from the ground. Turning to look over her shoulder she saw the black clad Nightshade.

“Are you okay?” She asked, glowing golden eyes turning to her, familiar golden eyes.

More than that, the black ears atop her head. The left ear had a small triangular cut in it and a long past memory of a mean little boy taking a pair of scissors to her best friends head surfaced . After that she wore a bow around them.

“Blake?” She stared back at the masked face with wide eyes.

Blake blinked before a smile pulled at her lips. Of course the first person to ever recognize her in her disguise would be her oldest and closest friend.

“Later” Blake promised. “We have other things to worry about.” They swung between two buildings just as an arrow whizzed by their heads.

“Shit” Blake cursed as they swung out from between the two buildings to land on a rooftop only to find Cinder waiting for them, arrow drawn back.

Gunfire cracked the air sending the arrow to the street below.

Cinder turned just in time to catch the moonlight glinting off the Red Wolf’s spinning scythe as she flew through the air, catching the nevermores neck in the crook of her blade and slicing through it like butter.

The creature began to drop with Cinder still on it.

Blake cut the ziptie, unbinding Weiss’s wrists.

“Stay here, Weiss.” Blake ordered, shooting her weapon into an adjacent building and swinging from the roof.

“Red!” Blake called, holding out her hand as she swung toward the falling cloaked crusader.

Reaching up she grabbed Blake's hand as she passed.

“Weiss is fine, get Cinder!”

“Right!” Red nodded.

As they reached the zenith of their swing Blake flung the masked hero forward, rocketing toward the falling criminal, scythe reared back.

Cinder held up her swords just in time to meet the charging scythe.

Spinning her body Ruby used her blade to hook the swords and jerk them from Cinders hands, following through with her momentum she spun around again, turning the blade in her grip to deliver a full force blow to the other woman’s head with the butt of her scythe.

Cinder hit the ground hard, her unconscious body thumping across the asphalt before rolling to a stop.

Ruby skidded to a harsh stop, panting behind her mask.

Sirens in the distance were fast approaching.

Ruby looked up to find Nightshade standing next to Weiss.

“I’ve got her, you take care of that.” She nodded toward the oncoming sirens.

“But…!” Before she could protest Nightshade had wrapped an arm around Weiss’s waist and was swinging away. “I wanted to make sure she was ok…” Ruby pouted.

“I leave the room for 5 minutes and you get yourself kidnapped…” Blake shook her head as they flew through the air.

“Me!?” Weiss nearly screeched. “You’re...you’re…”

“Yup.” Blake said simply with a grin.

“This is too much.” She sighed. The smile fell from Blake’s lips.

“You’re not hurt are you?” She asked, trying to see any injuries from their position.

“Just a scratch.” Weiss tilted her head back so Blake could see the small cut across her friend's throat, tiny droplets of blood dried on her skin.

“Let’s get you home and we’ll clean it.”

It was an hour later when Blake left after answering some questions and bandaging her small cut that Weiss sat in front of her vanity, brushing out her long hair, working out the stress of the evening.

Movement caught her eye and in the mirror she could see a red shadow in her window.

“Do you always invite yourself into people's bedroom windows at night?” Weiss asked as the window opened and the dull sound of boots hitting carpet met her ears.

Ruby had not at all been prepared for what the CEO was wearing. The thigh length, light blue nightie was almost, almost transparent. She had to mentally shake herself, Weiss was talking to her.

“Sorry, Weiss. I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.” Red explained as she walked up behind Weiss.

“It’s fine, and I’m fine. Thanks to you and Nightshade that is.” Weiss turned to Vales red draped hero.

Cloaked shoulders shrugged.

“It’s my job, stop the bad guys, save the innocent.” She mumbled, still a little distracted, she stared hard at the white carpet beneath her boots.

Weiss hummed walking across the room but stopped when Red spoke again.

“Even if it wasn’t my job, i’d have still have saved you though.” She said quietly.

Weiss turned back around to look at Red, standing there, shoulders bunched up and the silver eyes behind her mask trained on the carpet.

Her bare feet made no sound as she walked back over to stand in front of Red.

“Every good hero deserves an equal reward.” Weiss mumbled. Silver eyes shot up, not noticing she’d got so close.

“You don’t have to…” Ruby started, suddenly all nervous jitters inside.

“Do you trust me?” Weiss asked suddenly.

Ruby stood, stunned inside, not by the question itself but the realization that she did. She trusted Weiss more than she’d ever trusted anyone else outside her family.

Her lips were dry and she nervously ran her tongue over them.

“Yes”

Slowly, waiting for Red to stop her, Weiss reached up and slipped her fingers under the edge of the mask, the metal was cold against her fingers, but the hero said nothing as the mask was slowly pushed up just enough to expose her mouth before stopping.

Weiss was more than tempted to rip the mask off and see the whole face behind it, but Red’s trust stayed her hand.

Ruby swallowed, her mouth dry as a desert and her nerves on edge now that she couldn’t see.

“Weiss...” Was all she managed before the CEO was pressing her lips against hers, blanking the hero’s brain of all other thoughts save for the cold, smooth lips slanted over her own warm, chapped ones.

Her hands anchored themselves on Weiss’s hips, fingers digging into the sheer fabric of her nightgown.

Her mouth opened in surprise more than anything when she felt Weiss’s tongue slid across her bottom lip.

A fire shot through Ruby as Weiss deepened the kiss and before she even knew it she had taken control, walking them backwards toward the bed till the back of Weiss’s knees hit the frame and buckled, sending them flopping onto the mattress.

Weiss gripped the fabric of her cloak tightly as Red’s teeth grazed her bottom lip before pulling back and trailing down her neck, leaving a path of fire on her skin.

“Red” Weiss panted.

That one word struck Ruby like ice water.

What the hell was she doing? Well, she knew what she was doing, but she couldn’t and shouldn’t be doing it!

She scrambled off Weiss and back to her feet leaving Weiss looking stunned.

“I can’t. I’m sorry Weiss, I can’t do this.” She stumbled back, away from the bed, slamming the mask back down over her mouth.

Weiss pulled herself to her feet, looking more embarrassed than Ruby could ever remember seeing.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought…” She started, blue eyes staring at the floor.

“Don’t!” Ruby stopped her. “Don’t apologize, you were right...I...I like you a lot, Weiss.”

Blue eyes locked with her own, the embarrassment was gone but the confusion in Weiss’s eyes had only magnified.

“Than why…”

“You don’t even know who I am.” She said quietly. The statement needed no explanation and Weiss frowned.

“You said you trusted me...why can’t you tell me?.”

“I can’t do that, Weiss! Knowing who I am would put you in so much danger!” Ruby was close to yelling in frustration, her fists clenched.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed..” Weiss began following her, one step forward for every step Red took back. “But just this evening you saved me from being kidnapped by Cinder, I already am in danger just by being the head of the SE.” Weiss argued, stopping with only a few inches between them.

Ruby bit her lip, it was true, liquid dust had already made Weiss a target. Her real fear was rising to the surface.

“I’m not anyone special.” She finally said.

“What?” Weiss could only blink in surprise at the statement.

“I’m not anyone special!” She shouted. “This, this is what everyone sees!” She held up the edges of her cloak fisted in her hands. “They want the hero, you want the hero, not…!” She stopped herself and Weiss knew her real name had been on the tip of her tongue.

“You’re amazing and beautiful and...you wouldn’t want the real me...” She said before jumping away and back out the bedroom window she’d entered from.

Weiss ran to the window, but all the evidence that Red had been there at all were the rose petals already drifting away in the breeze.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Saturday morning Blake knocked on Weiss’s front door.

When it opened she gasped.

“Weiss, you look awful, are you alright?”

It was true, Weiss hadn’t slept after her confrontation with Red.

With a resigned sigh she let Blake in and told her everything about her meeting with Red the night before.

“I knew you two had a thing for each other.” Blake said.

“Well it doesn’t matter now does it?” Weiss scowled. The words trying to catch in her throat. Blake frowned.

“If I’d known she was having such problems with coalescing her hero persona with herself I would have tried to help her.” Blake mumbled to herself.

“What should I do?” Weiss asked.

“Next time I see her, I’ll talk to her.” Blake promised. Weiss sighed.

“You know, we never did get to eat our chinese food. Come on, let's go to your favorite place, my treat.” Blake offered.

“I’m not sure I’m up to it, Blake.” Weiss mumbled, arms crossed over her chest.

“Come on, Weiss. Sitting around here moping won’t do you any good.” Blake nudged her.

“Alright, fine.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ruby was, for lack of a better word, depressed.

Every Time she’d closed her eyes to go to sleep she could only see Weiss’s face.

What’s worse, instead of laying in a pile of sadness in her bed she’d let her dad talk her into coming into the shop to help. It couldn’t have been a worse day.

Oh how the universe endeavored to prove her wrong when she saw Blake and Weiss walk in through the front doors.

She immediately made an about face into the kitchen.

Her heart ached at the sight of the CEO.

She looked through the window in the door to see their hostess seating the pair in her section.

“Why?” She groaned to herself. She looked in the dining room and saw Ren waving goodby to his last table.

She shot out of the kitchen and ran up to him.

“Ren” She called.

“What is it?” He turned to his friend curiously. She’d been acting morose all day.

“Do you see that table in my section?” She discreetly pointed to Blake and Weiss. Ren nodded. “I need you to take that table for me, please.” Ruby begged.

Turning back to Ruby, Ren could see the desperation in her eyes.

“Sure” He nodded.

“Thank you.” She smiled in relief before walking over to one of her other tables, right behind Weiss’s. She swallowed thickly.

“Relax, Ruby, she doesn’t know you…” Ruby frowned. “...she doesn’t know you.”

No matter what she told herself she still couldn't stop from glancing at Weiss constantly.

She looked tired and drawn. It was with no small amount of guilt that Ruby realized it was probably because of her.

She sighed quietly to herself.

Weiss didn’t notice the looks, but Blake did.

‘Why do I feel like I know her?’ Blake frowned.

“What is it?” Weiss asked after their food was gone.

“That girl.” Blake nodded. “This is clearly her section but she had the guy take us.” Blake frowned.

Weiss looked at the girl in question. It was the same one who had delivered their food last night.

She was tall, around their age and had uneven black hair with red dyed tips.

Normally she would have thought the woman was rather cute, but Red was the only thing on her mind.

“So?” Weiss finally said, turning back to Blake.

“So…” Blake started. “You gave her a fifteen lien tip last night, why wouldn’t she want our table? Also, she keeps looking at you.” Blake said quietly.

Weiss turned back around just in time to see the waitress turn around and walk toward the kitchen.

Weiss felt like she’d been struck by lightning.

The waitress was wearing a black camisole and there on her exposed shoulder was a tattoo of a wolf head in a ring of roses.

“It can’t be...” She mumbled.

“What, what is it?” Blake asked seeing the look of shock on Weiss’s face.

“Her tattoo.” Weiss said almost breathlessly.

“What about it?” Blake asked, glancing at said tattoo over her shoulder.

“Red has that exact tattoo in that exact spot.”

“What? How do you know?” Blake questioned.

“The banquet.” Weiss hissed. “Her dress was backless, when we were on the balcony the wind blew her cloak out of the way and I saw it.”

Blake half turned in her seat, eyeing the waitress carefully and catching her gaze for a moment.

“How the hell did I never notice?” Blake said more to herself than Weiss.

“What?”

“I always thought Red wore silver colored contacts beneath her mask, the color is so rare, but that girl; her eyes are silver.” Blake said quietly.

‘It had to be. It had to be her!’

Weiss made to stand up only for Blake to reach across the table and grab her.

“What are you doing?!” Blake hissed. Weiss was obviously not thinking clearly at the moment if she was going to do what Blake thought she was going to do.

“She’s…!” Weiss started. Blake held her firm.

“So what, you were going to call her out, here in the middle of a busy restaurant?”

“I…” Frowning Weiss settled back into her seat. What was wrong with her? Of course that was an asinine idea.

“We know where she is, and we know her face. Now we just have to come up with a plan so you can talk to her, in private.”

“And how do we do that?” Weiss tapped her fingers on the table impatiently.

“Let me worry about that.” Blake said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Another night watching over Vale, or as her sister had called it, moping about the skyline.

It had only taken Yang five minutes to see how down she was and another five to drag it all out of her.

Prompting another lecture about her identities, but Ruby was just not in the mood for it.

So now here she was, sitting alone on the rooftop of the tallest building in Vale, far out of everyone's sight, the wind whipping at her cloak. Thunder rumbled across the sky. It was going to rain soon.

“Hey, being dark and brooding is my thing.”

Ruby jumped, turning to find Nightshade standing behind her.

“Hey, Night.” She said simply turning back to look at the city. She heard Nightshade sigh.

“You and I need to have a talk.”

Ruby blinked behind her mask, what did they need to talk about?

“What about?’ Ruby turned to face her.

“Weiss” She said simply. Ruby immediately frowned.

“What about her?” She asked rigidly.

“Don’t give me that shit.” Nightshade frowned. “You don’t think I didn’t see you sneak to her office last thursday and then carry her off into the night?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip.Ruby flushed furiously. She hadn’t been near as careful as she should have been.

“That's none of your business.” She bit out.

“It is, because I’m there one who has to watch her be head over heels for you every day.”

“W..what?” Ruby narrowed her eyes at the dark haired heroine.

“We’ve been doing this thing together for how long now, Red? Five years, right? Let’s be level here.” She said, reaching up and untieing the knot in her mask and letting it slide off her face.

Silver eyes went wide.

“You’re Weiss’s assistant.” She said dumbly.

“And long time childhood friend.” Blake smiled.

“W-why would you tell me who you are?” Ruby stared back at her long time counterpart in shock.

“I like to consider us friends in a way.” Blake admitted and it did make Ruby glad to know she did.

“So it's only fair that I tell you who I am; because I know who you are, and so does Weiss.” She finished and Ruby froze.

“W-what? How could you possibly know?!”

“At the chinese place Saturday. Weiss recognized you by your tattoo.” Blake supplied.

“My tattoo?” Ruby repeated. “Weiss has never seen my..” She stopped, combing through all her times with Weiss. “The dress…” She realized with dread. That backless dress. “Damn it, Yang.” Ruby cursed.

Blake didn’t know who Yang was but that was unimportant at the moment.

“So...” She began, closing the gap distance between them and holding out her hand. “I’m Blake Belladonna; Nightshade.”

Ruby hesitated, she’d never shared her identity with anyone outside her family, but Blake already knew who she was, at least by face and if anything that was worse than by name.

Slowly she reached up and pulled back the hood of her cloak and slid her mask off.

She looked so nervous, Blake couldn’t help but smile encouragingly at the younger woman.

‘I’m Ruby.” She said, taking Blake’s still outstretched hand. “Ruby Rose.”

“Ruby Rose” Blake repeated with a chuckle. “It suits you.” She admitted and Ruby smiled for the first time that evening.

“Weiss told me about what happened at her place Friday night...” Blake started, the smile fell from Ruby’s lips. “Do you really believe that?”

“It’s true though.” She clenched her fists. “Weiss liked the Red Wolf, not me.” She mumbled.

Blake sighed.

“Ruby, you are The Red Wolf.” She said.

“I’ve heard it all before.” Ruby growled in frustration.

“You’ve heard it before because that’s the truth. Ruby, you are not two separate people living in one body.”

Ruby finally looked up at her, though the skepticism on her face was clear. Hearing this from another hero might have been what she needed, Blake decided.

“When I first started being Nightshade I felt like you do. That people loved her and next to her, Blake Belladonna wasn’t much.” She admitted.

“But I realized that Nightshade wasn’t some other person living inside me, she was me, wearing a mask. She couldn’t be better than me, she couldn’t be anything I wasn't already. My strengths and my flaws are all hers.”

Ruby was quite, absorbing everything she was being told. It made sense...and hearing Blake tell her how she’d felt the same made her feel like maybe she was being dumb.

“Look at it this way Ruby.” Blake said, startling her out of her thoughts. “If you were just on the street and someone was in danger would you help them?”

“Of course!” She answered immediately.

“Even if you didn’t have your mask or cloak?” Blake asked.

“Of course!” She answered again without an ounce of hesitation, to which Blake only smiled and suddenly Ruby felt like such a moron.

“I am the hero.” She grumbled. Blake chuckled.

“You are the hero.” She confirmed.

“Ughh, Weiss must hate me now!” She moaned.

“Believe me, Weiss does not hate you. She really wants to talk to you though…” Blake hinted.

“I should talk to her…” Ruby started only for Blake to cut in.

“Ruby, you need to know, you’re not the only one with insecurities...when you grow up with as much money as Weiss, you can't help but wonder if people only like you because you’re rich.” Blake told her.

“I...I’d never thought about that...Weiss doesn’t think I like her because she’s rich does she?!”

“If she did you wouldn't get the time of day...it’s just..something to be aware of.” Blake said.

Taking a deep breath Ruby nodded. “I should go.” She said putting her mask back on and pulling up the hood of her cloak. Blake nodded, tieing her mask back in place.

When she next looked, Ruby was gone in a swirl of petals.

“Balls in your court now, Weiss.” She mumbled with a smile as the rain began to fall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The rain poured over the city, hundreds of thousands of droplets streaked down the windows of Weiss’s office, creating a hazy barrier between her and the outside world.

Weiss tapped her pen against the wood of her desk. She’d been staring at the same proposal for twenty minutes.

Honestly her productivity for the week had been a joke. She barely made it through her meetings, now left to her own devices she was useless.

There hadn’t been any real trouble since Cinder’s arrest so no one had seen the Red Wolf in a week, unless you counted her accidental sighting at the Sunny Dragon the previous Saturday and even that had turned out to be a fluke, Weiss had gone back twice, despite Blake's warnings but she was nowhere to be seen.

Normally Weiss prefered to be alone with her thoughts, but that habit had been rather damning lately.

She’d spent a lot of time thinking about what Red had said. Weiss knew she could be rather intimidating. The rich and powerful schtick scared off as many people as it attracted.

People looked at Weiss and saw a no nonsense CEO. People looked at Red and saw the fearless hero. Those two people did exist, but there was much more to both of them.

Tossing the pen aside she leaned back in her office chair, closing her eyes.

Maybe she should just call it quits for the night. It was already half past seven.

Tap tap

Her eyes shot open and she bolted upright in her chair.

Standing there at her balcony door was Red. Seeing Weiss looking at her she gave a timid little wave.

Weiss hesitated a second before walking over and unlatching the door. Ther heroine was soaking wet, or at least her cloak was.

“Hey… Weiss.”

Without thinking Weiss grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

“What are you doing out there on a night like this, you’ll catch your death.” The CEO scolded. “You’re soaked.”

“I needed to talk to you.” She said, facing the irritated woman. “It couldn’t wait.”

“Alright… Weiss said slowly.

“Um..can you,close the blinds?” Red asked, fidgeting.

Weiss cocked a brow in silent question at the request but said nothing as she walked over to a small panel on the wall and hit a button. The quiet whirring of a motor filled the otherwise silent room as the curtains drew themselves across the window, blocking out the city.

“Alright, why did I need too…” Her tongue went numb in her mouth as she watched Red’s hands untie the cloak from her shoulders, letting it drop in a wet heap on the carpet.

She hesitated a moment before reaching up and pulling off her mask, letting it join the cloak on the floor.

“So, uh…” She began nervously, turning to face Weiss. “I’m Ruby.” She said at last. “Ruby Rose. I’m a mail carrier during the day and I have a dog named Zwei and a sister named Yang and I like to build things in my spare time if I’m not helping my dad at his restaurant.” She spit out all the general information about herself she could think of.

A tense moment of silence followed before Weiss spoke.

“What made you change your mind?” Was the only thing she could think to say in response to all the information.

“Nightshade...or, uh, Blake. She can be very convincing when talking sense..,” She smiled nervously before it dropped back into a frown, silver eyes turning to the carpet.

“I’m sorry, Weiss. For the other night. I...I’ve just always been so afraid that when I finally told someone I cared about who I was, they wouldn’t like me as much as they liked Red Wolf.” She finished, worrying her hands together. She’d never voiced her fears aloud, but now that she did they did seem rather inane.

A sigh finally broke the thundering silence.

“You are an absolute dolt, you know that?” Weiss asked, exasperated. Silver eyes trailed up to look into Weiss’s annoyed blue ones as she strode across the room to stand nose to nose with Ruby.

“Ruby...” Weiss said her name and a shiver ran up her spine.

“You, are what makes the Red Wolf great, not the other way around.” Weiss poked a manicured finger into Ruby’s chest. “Anyone could put on your mask and cloak and say they’re the Red Wolf, but they wouldn’t be.” Weiss pressed on. “Because they wouldn't be you inside there.”

“I…’ Ruby started only for Weiss to hold up a hand.

“I’m not finished.” she declared haughtily. She’d thought a lot about what she wanted to say and damned if she wasn’t going to say it.

“I liked the Red Wolf because she’s brave, thoughtful and kind. Those are the things I like about you, Ruby.”

Ruby’s stomach was tying itself into a knot at Weiss’s words.

“I...thanks, Weiss.” She didn’t know what else to say. “You’re awesome too.” she said.

Weiss huffed, not refuting the claim, but Ruby could see the doubt in her eyes now that she knew to look for it.

“I mean it.” She grabbed both of Weiss’s hands, making her jolt. “You’re kind and generous and the smartest person I know.” Ruby praised, turning Weiss’s pale face pink from her nose to her neck. The little piece of Yang in her suddenly took hold and she grinned.

“You’re a good kisser too.” Her grin only widened as Weiss turned cherry red.

“S-shut up” She tried to shove her away but Ruby just pulled her closer.

“Weiss, will you go out with me?’ Ruby asked suddenly.

“Wh-what, right now?” The flustered CEO asked.

“Yeah, right now!” She smiled brightly.

“Alright.” She said, catching Ruby’s infectious smile.

“Come on, I know just where to go.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the rain it was a slow night at the Sunny Dragon. Tai sat at the hostess’s stand playing on his phone.

The restaurant doors opened up and Tai looked up with a grin.

“Ruby, sweetie.” He gave his youngest a hug, than noticed the other woman standing next to her, one of his favorite regulars.

“Miss Schnee, always a pleasure to see you.” He smiled.

“You as well Mr. Xiao-Long.” Weiss nodded politely, even more so now that she knew this was Ruby’s father.

“Can we get a table please, Dad.”

Tai looked between the two of them for a moment before it clicked.

“Oh...oh!” he smiled brightly and Ruby groaned internally. “Of course. This way ladies.” He led them to a table. “Your usuals I presume?” They nodded and he disappeared into the back.

It was quiet save for the rain splattering on the windows. The two of them were the only customers in the room.

“So, I think you actually know more about me than I do about you.” Ruby broke the quiet.

“Well, what do you want to know?” Weiss brushed a few wet strands of hair out of her eyes.

“Everything” Ruby leaned forward. “Everything you want me to know.” She smiled at the pink creeping up Weiss’s neck again.

“That might take a while.”

Feeling bold, Ruby reached across the table and wrapped her fingers gently around Weiss’s slightly smaller ones.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.” She said.

A slight squeeze back was her answer.

“Alright…” Weiss started.

#rwby #whiterose #weiss schnee #Ruby rose #fanfiction #superhero #AU

[jaredkleinmanisanerd]

my kink is evan getting flustered over pizza boi connor murphy w a ponytail and a heartbreaking smile please nd thank

same, dude, same

It all starts in the spring of his junior year.

Evan’s puttering around the kitchen, laptop opened on thecounter, checking the cabinets and the refrigerator for what must be the thirdtime in the hopes that food will magically appear and he’ll be able to avoidordering anything. Sadly, the only thing resembling sustenance is a package offreeze burned fish sticks and eating those would be a one-way ticket to Dr.Sherman’s office. Or the emergency room.

Preferably the emergency room.

Evan pulls the plastic bag holding the fish sticks out oftheir box, opening it and grimacing when an overwhelming fishy scent wafts outof the container. To be completely honest, Evan isn’t entirely sure they even are fish sticks; they look like arubbery, discolored parody of fish sticks. Despite being in the freezer for anunfathomable length of time—because Evan swears the fish sticks have been inthere since he was in elementary school, at least—they’re mushy and soft in theworst way.

If he eats these, there is a high probability that he willactually die. While the whole dying thing doesn’t sound like the worst thingthat could happen, Evan would rather not go out over a couple of spoiled fishsticks, you know?

Plus, if he didn’t die, his mom would move up hisappointment with Dr. Sherman and she’d get all upset over Evan refusing toorder food like a normal person and she’d do that thing where she’s like “maybeI should take a break from classes for a while, I’m worried about you, bud” andEvan would have to spend an hour convincing her that he’s fine, that she doesn’tneed to drop out of school, that he’s a semi-functional teenage boy who cankeep himself alive while she’s at class. And that’s just. A lot of stuff hedoesn’t need right now.

With a deep sigh, Evan returns the fish sticks to thefreezer to be agonized over another day and pulls up the website for the pizzaplace he and his mother order from. It’s a local chain, so they only startedtaking online orders about a year ago, which is when his mom switched fromstocking the kitchen with bread and peanut butter so he could make himselfsandwiches to leaving a crumpled twenty on the table for him to order out.Because, you know, ordering online takes out the whole talking on the phonething, which Evan hates with a passion because talking on the phone is stupid,you can’t see the other person’s expression so you don’t know if they’re angryor sad or what, and sometimes it’s hard to hear the other person and you keephaving to ask them to repeat themselves and eventually you just give up andpretend you understand what’s going on even though you still don’t know whatthey said—but, anyways, his mom figured that cutting out the talking on thephone bit would mean that Evan would have no problem ordering pizza. Which waswrong. Incorrect. False.

You see, when the pizza delivery person arrives to yourhouse, you have to retrieve the pizza from them and give them your money andthen if you don’t have exact change—Evan never has exact change—you have towait for them to make change and hand it back and then you have to give themtheir tip and this whole time you’re supposed to be making small talk andsmiling so you don’t seem like a completely pathetic human being who can’t keepup a conversation about traffic on a Wednesday afternoon.

Evan hates that part. He hates how he accidentally fumbleswhen he’s exchanging the dollar bill for the pizza, he hates how all he canmanage to get out when the pizza guy says something is a nervous “mmhm,” hehates how he nearly drops the change on the ground, he hates how he never knowswhat an appropriate tip is, he hates—he hates all of it, the whole stupid exchange, so he avoids it. Because that’swhat people do when they hatesomething, they avoid it and try to pretend it’s fine that they do.

The mouse hovers over the order button. He doesn’t want todo this. He really doesn’t want to dothis. He can’t do this.

He presses the button.

The page telling him how long it’ll be before the pizza getshere pops up and Evan can’t decide if an hour wait is better or worse than theusual half hour wait. He gets to put off the inevitable social interaction withthe pizza delivery guy for longer, but he also has more time to obsess over itand wish that time travel was a thing so he could go back about twenty secondsand stop himself from ordering the pizza.

Evan settles in on the couch in the living room so that he’sonly a couple feet from the door, ready to pop up the moment the pizza guysteps on the porch. The twenty dollar bill remains clenched in his hand,slightly moist because of its contact with his damp hands, but he’d rather handover a sweaty bill than have to run around the house trying to find the moneywhen the guy gets here. Evan’s tempted to watch some YouTube videos to try tocalm himself down—something with cute cats or maybe a funniest vinecompilations, those are always nice—but he doesn’t want to start watchingsomething and then get all absorbed in it and not hear the doorbell. Then thepizza guy would start banging on the door and Evan would freak out because he’dthink it’s an axe murderer and then he’d end up hiding in his room until thepizza guy leaves and then the pizza guy would have to pay for Evan’s pizzahimself and the pizza place would blacklist Evan and never let him order fromthere ever again and his mom would be crushed because she says that’s the bestpizza in town and then she’d kick him out of the house because he’s anincompetent loser who got them banned from a pizza place because he couldn’tjust wait to watch cat videos and—

The doorbell rings once, twice, three times. Evan takes adeep breath, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat and fix his ragged breathing.Well. Almost having an anxiety attack is one way to pass the time for the pizzaguy to get there.

Evan wipes his hands on his sweatpants and walks over to thedoor, frowning when the pizza guy rings the doorbell for the fourth time. Hegets that delivery people have a schedule but the guy barely gave him tenseconds to reach the door before he rang the bell again. Evan takes a second toopen the door, trying to pull it open before realizing that it’s locked andfumbling to undo the deadbolt before the pizza guy makes his impatience knownonce more by laying on the buzzer because Evan’s already more than a littlestressed with the four rings, he’d rather not make it five.

He overestimates how much force he needs to use to open thedoor—he guesses that his mom finally got their neighbor to fix the hinges so itwon’t stick as bad anymore—and so it flings open a little more dramaticallythan necessary, making Evan’s face burn. This is why he shouldn’t order pizza.

The delivery boy merely raises an eyebrow at the flung opendoor, acting as if someone violently opening a front door isn’t particularlyunusual, and Evan is—well.

He’s still embarrassed, yeah, but he doesn’t have much roomin his brain to be fretting over his inability to function like a normal personbecause the pizza guy is just. Really attractive.

“Evan Hansen?” The pizza guy has a really nice voice too.

Evan spends longer than is socially acceptable staring atthis guy, only coming back to himself when the other boy’s lips quirk up slightlyin a smug little smile and repeats his name. “Oh, um, y-yeah, that’s, uh, that’s,”Evan takes a deep breath. “I’m Evan. Hansen.”

“Cool. 10.63.”

Evan’s motions are jerky and spastic as he hands over thetwenty dollar bill and accepts the awkwardly shaped pizza box. He’s sure hisface is bright red and he can feel his hands getting sweatier by the second andhis only hope at this point is that he can get out of this situation before he embarrasseshimself in front of this unfairly cute delivery guy.

Well. You know, embarrasses himself worse than he alreadyhas.

The guy—Connor, his name tag reads—Connor is about to hand him back his change, which he made veryfast and without any small talk at all and Evan thinks that he wouldn’t mindgetting his pizzas delivered by this guy if he wasn’t so handsome. Is thatdiscriminatory against attractive people? Attractive people just make hisanxiety skyrocket, and Evan doesn’t need anything else to make his anxiety anyworse. He’s doing that just fine by himself.

“Um, you can, uh—you can just keep the, the change. Thanks.”Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why are you sofucking stupid?

“That’s a nine dollar tip, you realize that, right?” Connor’stone seems to suggest that he too finds Evan’s actions idiotic, but Evan’salready committed to doing it now and he feels like it’s weird to backpedal nowand basically take away the money he’s already given Connor.

“Mmhm. Yeah.” Evan nods jerkily to emphasize his point andhe has the weird feeling that he probably looks like a bobble head right now. Great. Evan Hansen, master of firstimpressions.

“Okay,” Connor says, but he says it less like just ‘okay’and more like ‘okaaaaaay’ which makes Evan think that he’s being even weirder andstupider than he thinks he’s being and he thinks he’s being really weird andstupid already so Evan must have like. Ascended to a higher level of weirdness andstupidity than was previously known to mankind. “Have a nice night, Evan.” Andjust like that Connor’s leaving his porch, heading back to the car parked onthe curb outside of Evan’s house.

“You—you too!”

Before Evan slams his door and starts berating himself forhow incredibly awkward he was being, because wow was he being awkward, he catches a glimpse of a ponytail peekingout of the back of Connor’s uniform hat and he can only imagine how gorgeousConnor must look with his hair down.

Evan collapses on the couch, pizza box in hand, and trieshis best to just. Pretend none of that happened.

While he’s shoveling the gooey, cheesy pizza into his mouthand watching some weird prank video Jared sent him the link to, Evan thinksback on the little smug smile Connor made when Evan was gawking at him like acomplete imbecile. It was—it was a reallynice smile.

He wouldn’t mind seeing that again.

And he does when he orders pizza on Friday. Then on Monday.Then on Thursday. Then a couple times a week every week for the rest of thesemester. And most of the summer.

Evan decides that maybe ordering pizza isn’t so bad afterall.

#deh #tree bros #connor is probably ooc as HECK and i'm sorry about that #hamsterritos #requests

[ruffoverthinksthings]

When/If Claudine meets Quasimodo, her foster brother, how would their relationship grow and how would they bond/ differ? And would meeting Esmeralda face-to-face and understanding that she was her father's "downfall" cause her to feel some form of spite, even if she knows it to be petty? Would she feel empathic towards her instead? Both? What would Esmeralda and Claudine's relationship become if this were ever possible?

God Help TheOutcasts (Part 1): The Enchantress

Esmeralda First.Quasimodo in a separate post Soon™.

Claudinepositively despises Esmeralda, not helped by the fact that shewill likely first meet Esmeralda as her and the other VKs dance classinstructor.*

Aside from all ofFrollo’s erratic mix of swooning and longing after her or damningher “as the worst thing to ever happen to humanity since Eve at theGarden of Eden,” she hates that Esmeralda far outclasses herin everything she’s good at, that she prides herself on, and relieson to get by:

Esmeralda isprettier. She’s smarter. She’s wittier. “She’s basicallyevery thing I am, only better and more popular,” Claudine says.

In spite of themassive age difference (and to Claudine’s chagrin, many timesbecause of it), Esmeralda  unintentionally renders Claudine’sMO of distracting and manipulating people with her body, her face,and her seduction tactics inert because they’re too busy droolingover and hanging on to every single one of Esmeralda’s words, nothers.

And what makes iteven worse is that she’s so unabashedly nice to her–”noteven, ‘Oh, I’ll get fired if I so much as suggest this kid mightbe a full-on retard without the getting screwed over by the genelottery part!’”

Like all the VKs,Claudine has learned to look at every act of kindness, generosity,and offers of friendship with suspicion, especially when they seemhand-tailored to you. On the Isle, it’s a really big, obvious signthat someone is trying to manipulate you into getting something theywant that’s not you, an accomplice they won’t have to pay firstto convince to go with their latest evil scheme, or practice fortheir future tempting of rich and influential royals and otherfigures.

She constantlyinsults Esmeralda to her face, spreads catty rumours about her (notas effective here as on the Isle, to her chagrin), and refuses toparticipate in any of her dance classes, even if that means failingand possibly getting deported, because she will not let herself betaught by the “headliner to the 2nd Circle of Hellherself.”

This all changeswhen Claudine’s attempts to continuie her lifestyle of recklesspartying, drinking, and casual sex, and she ends arrested on numerouscharges after attempting to start a drunken teenage orgy in aProtestant church. (She wanted it to be Christian, but it wascloser.)

I should notethat the key word here is “attempted”: “Turns out God watchesover His house with the help of security cameras everywhere.”

The AKs are allbailed out in short order by concerned parents, friends, andguardians, while Claudine and the rest of the VKs are left to simmerin the prison cells, watching their fellow partygoers get warm hugsand kisses of familial affection, before having their ears pulled andtalked off at the same time.

Ben doesn’tbail any of the VKs out this time, as he feels they need to know whatit feels like to have your entire Friday night plans kiboshed byoutside forces beyond your control, and the rest of it spent in aRoyal Guard Garrison till sunrise on Saturday.

So imagine hersurprise when one of the guards walks up, opens the cell, and says,“Frollo, Claudine: you’re out on bail. I suggest you get yourthank yous and your promises to not get in trouble again, younglady.”

Claudine publiclysticks her tongue out at her fellow VKs, before she privately wonderswho in the Hell would help her out.

So imagine hersurprise and her gut-churning disgust when she sees Esmeraldaprofusely thanking a clearly flustered and lovestruck Royal Guardsitting behind the front desk.

Esmeraldanotices, and smiles at her. “Need a ride home?” she asks, holdingup her car keys with one finger, a little plush doll of Djali, hergoat, hanging from it.

Claudine glaresat her, before she resolutely marches past her in her bare-feet—herhigh heels had broken beyond repair earlier that night. “No thanks,I’ll walk,” she mutters.

“Are you sure?”Esmeralda asks. “It’s really cold out tonight, and I can tell youfrom personal experience, it’s not a good idea to walk the streetsof Auradon City with bare feet.”

“I’lllive!” Claudine yells back as she reaches the doors. “I livedon the Isle all my life, for God’s sake!”

She steps out ofthe nice hardwood floors of the Garrison’s heated and insulatedlobby, and onto the concrete steps and sidewalks in the still nice,but unheated and exposed streets of Auradon City. She shivers andyelps as she feels the chill and the light stabbing from hundreds oflittle tiny cracks, fractures, and litter that hadn’t been swept upyet.

Still, she doesas she always does, and keeps on going like it doesn’t hurt; she’dmastered the art back when she still considered herself a Christian,and she hasn’t lost her edge since renouncing her faith.

The passersbylook strangely and warily at her, this teenage girl in a risque,ratty, and well-worn school uniform of an institution that isn’teven remotely near Auradon City. Claudine doesn’t bother tobat her eyelashes, meet their eyes, or try to catch someone oglingher, however, as all that is on her mind is to get back to her dormroom in Auradon Prep.

As Esmeraldasaid, it was cold out that night, and it’s colder still now thatshe’s lost her coat, lost somewhere in the misadventure earlier,and she curses the fact that there are no boys to steal one from, nosympathetic faces here willing to lend her theirs.

“Figures,”Claudine thinks to herself, scowling. “They preach and pridethemselves on goodness and kindness, but when it’s actually time toshow it to someone who could actually need it, they take a pass.”

She scowls evenharder when a purple mini-van rolls up beside her, colourful patternsand designs lovingly air-brushed on its sides, the window rolled downso she could see Esmeralda looking at her. Claudine ignores her,Esmeralda slows down to match her pace.

“Shouldn’tyou keep your eyes on the road?!” Claudine snaps when she’sfinally had enough.

“Unless a snailhappens to be crossing the street right now, I doubt I’ll behitting anyone or anything,” Esmeralda replies.

Silence for a fewmore moments.

“You dorealize this looks like you’re totally stalking me and waiting forthe perfect opportunity to jump out and kidnap me in your giantpurple party van, right?”

“The peoplehere know me and this van, I’m good,” Esmeralda replied.

Eventually,Claudine and Esmeralda hit a stoplight at a somewhat busyintersection, so they wait at the edge of the curb, watching andlistening to the cars and the odd magical carpet puttering by, allunder the speed limit.

“My offer togive you a ride home is still standing, in case that wasn’tobvious,” Esmeralda said.

Claudine groanedand threw her arms up. “What do you want from me?! Is itvengeance for my dad almost killing you and all your gypsy friendsbecause he’s a delusional, dirty old creep? Because if so,I’m telling you right now, I can help you get Alighieri on his ass!

“Hell, I’lleven take all the blame, I’d be happy to say I finally putthat old fart back where he belongs!”

“I’ll tellyou if you get in my car, how’s that sound?” Esmeralda asked.

The stoplightturns green, as does the sign for the crosswalk. This being Auradon,and people being aware of who Esmeralda and Claudine are, they don’thonk and take turns overtaking the van and slipping past it.

Claudine looks atthe vast expanse of freshly driven over pavement before her, at theleather and wool-cozy covered interior of Esmeralda’s van, andgroans. Esmeralda calmly opens the lock as Claudine grabs thepassenger side door and flings it open, slamming it shut after sheclimbs in.

“There, nowwill you tell me?” she asks Esmeralda as she rolls up the windowand keeps the heat in.

“Please putyour seat-belt on, and yes, I will,” she replies as she crosses thestreet and gets traffic moving again.

Claudine doesso—the concept of safety measures in general is alien to her, butit’s easy enough to understand. “Well, I’m buckled and up andsafe, what’s the big answer to my big question?”

“I want to helpyou,” Esmeralda replied.

Claudine raisedan eyebrow. “And…?”

“That’s it.”

Claudine groansand throws her hands up. “Jesus Christ, will you drop thesaintly act already?! I know there’s more to it than this.”

“I realize youwere raised on the Isle all your life, but you also definitelyknow you’re not in that prison anymore; is it really sodifficult to accept that someone may be helping you purely out of thegoodness of their heart?”

“Yes,”Claudine replied. “I’m not really much for that, by the way; thelast time I tried it, CJ set fire to my house while I was still init.”

“So I heard,”Esmeralda said. “I’m really to sorry to hear thathappened.”

“No you’renot,” Claudine spat. “Because if any of you Auradonianswere really sorry about us kids living in a hell where it barelymakes the day’s gossip that someone left me to burn alive to savetheir own skin, you would have lifted us all off the Isle enmasse, than two-by-fucking-twolike Noah!

“Even he gotthat done before a big flood, and you’re taking months, andhad to wait for a king with his head screwed on right to do it,either!”

“The Arc ofJustice is slow, but it gets there eventually,” Esmeralda replied.“I’m not a fan of the Isle myself, believe me, but even I canaccept that setting things right is going to be a slow process withplenty of setbacks.”

Claudine crossesher arms over her chest. “Easy for you to say, when you lived overhere in Auradon.”

They reachedanother stoplight.

“I didn’talways live in Auradon, you know,” Esmeralda said. “When I wasyour age, I was part of a roaming band of entertainers and fortunetellers, making people laugh by day, and trying not to get chased outof their cities or robbed and killed in our tents by night.”

“Hmph, yeah,but at least you got a pretty even mix of ‘Good’ and ‘Bad’people, all we had were the people with one-way tickets on theDamnation Express, or who just got back.”

“Fair point.”

Silence for a fewmoments but for the rumble of engines idling.

“So why areyou helping me, anyway?” Claudine asked. “And don’t give meany of that ‘I just want to help people in general’ bullcrap, weboth know that if you wanted to do a whole lot of good in the world,you can just rip open your shirt in dance class and make all thestraight boys and the gay girls sing ‘Hallelujah.’”

Esmeraldachuckled. “It’ll be considered tempting them to sin though,considering I’m married and with a son.”

“Like thatwas ever a problem for you…” Claudine huffed.

Esmeraldasmirked. “I’m assuming your father told you a lot about me?”

“Oh, tons!”Claudine said. “When he isn’t crying himself to sleep at nightabout how he can’t have you, he’s damning you to Hell and warningpeople about ‘the evil enchantress with her wicked ways and sinfulacts,’ and sometimes he talks for hours tome specifically about how our lives would have been sodifferent if you just chose him instead of getting burnt at thestake, and you were my mom instead of Not Esmeralda.”

Silence.Esmeralda is given pause, to put it lightly.

“Ye-eep.”Claudine said.

The light turnsgreen, Esmeralda recovers and starts driving again. “So you assumeall of that is true?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Claudine parrotswhat her younger self said, except sarcastically and dripping withbile: “Because Father told me so.”

“And you neverthought of questioning that?”

“Oh, I didn’t,at first, then I almost fucking died in a fire because ofeverything he told me, and I realized it’s all bullshit.”

“So if it’sall bullshit, why do you still think I’m ‘the evil enchantresswith her wicked ways and her sinful acts’…?”

Silence. NowClaudine is given pause.

“Is this thatthing where you use your words to make me look stupid like thepharisees tried with JC…?” Claudine asks. “Because I fuckinghate that, too.”

“I’m nottrying to trap you, I’m trying to help you.”

“You haven’tfucking answered that question yet, by the way!”

“I did.”

“Oh, and tellme again, because I seem to have missed that.”

“As I saidearlier, the reason I’m helping you is because I want to help you.”

Claudine slamsher hands on the dashboard. “Bull. Shit.”

“And why isit bullshit to you? Because honestly, I can’t see why you woulddoubt me, and I was trained extensively in the arts of manipulation,persuasion, and lying.”

“It’sbullshit because you don’t have any good reason to help me!”Claudine said as she threw her hands up. “I’m the daughter ofClaude Frollo, the guy who almost killed you, killedplenty of you gypsies and innocent folk, then set fire to anentire fucking city because he couldn’t put out the fire in hispants!

“Why wouldyou want to help me?!”she asked, the bite fading fromher voice.

Esmeraldapulls over to the curb, the engine idling as she looks Claudine rightin her eyes.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might think of you as a victimof your father’s cruelty, pride, and delusion as I was?”Esmeralda asked. “That I am in a unique position to undo all thedamage he’s done to you, show you that the ‘evil enchantress’he’s been scaring you with and warning you about with all your lifeis actually a whole lot nicer and kinder, if not exactly a saint?

“That I see in you the little girl I was when I was your age—bornin a cruel, unforgiving world, with a body changing too fast and toodrastically for her liking, bringing her all kinds of problems whenthat attracted the wrong kind of attention from people?”

Claudine slowly lowers her hands, and crosses them over her chest.She huddles up, even though the heat is keeping the car at “toasty”levels of warmth.

Esmeralda pulls out of the curb, and the rest of the trip is spent insilence.

Esmeralda pulls up to the driveway of Auradon Prep, the common roomthat is the focal point between the dorms and the classrooms.“Remedial Goodness” has taught Claudine that this should be whenshe should thank Esmeralda for giving her a ride, but she justunbuckles her seat-belt, climbs out, and slams the door behind her asshe walks back inside.

“Claudine!” Esmeralda calls out as she rolls down the window.

Claudine flinches, and turns around. “What?”

“Come back here, please,” Esmeralda says. “I need to talk toyou about something.”

What Claudine wants is to get back inside the nice hardwood floorsand the heating pouring in from inside, but she reluctantly stepsback to the open passenger side window.

“What?” Claudine snaps.

“You’re going to have to start taking special, remedial danceclasses with me on the weekend, since you’ve been absent so much,and missing out on lessons and practical tests even when you’represent. Unless you want to fail and put your stay here in Auradon injeopardy, I suggest you keep all your Saturday morning’s free, from8 AM up until 10.”

Claudine groans. “Fine. Anything else?”

Esmeralda reaches into the glove compartment, and pulls out a shawland a pair of slippers, roughly in Claudine’s size. “You can keepthem,” she says as she hands them over.

Claudine takes them and holds them to her chest, confused and morethan a little wary.

“Good night, Claudine, I hope to see you in class tomorrow,”Esmeralda says as she rolls up the window, before driving away.

Claudine watches her go, before a cool breeze makes her shiver. Shewraps the shawl around herself, puts on the slippers.

No longer feeling cold and stepping on hard, unforgiving ground withher bare feet, she makes her way inside and back to the dorms,enjoying the warmth and the fuzziness.

* She has a passion for and plenty of experience working withoppressed minority groups, people who like to walk on the “Gray”side of morality, and was a VK in a sense for all of her life, too.

#descendants #god help the outcasts #headcanon #disney

[dasspacegoat]

It’s nights like these when I need to be reminded of who I am and where I came from. Somewhere inside of me, there’s hope, like a child whose bully decided to play with them one day. He went to school on the next day, waiting for him to approach, for them to play together.. again. But he never came back to play. The truth is, we never played well together, and it’s not my fault.

From the very beginning, he tells me, “all of my exes are crazy”. I remember my first reaction was to want to hear both sides. Every story has two sides.. and I decided to ignore my better judgment and trust him regardless of this clear indication of someone who is unable to see the plank in their eye. I remember finding his overgenralization and avoidance endearing of all things! I saw the he was playing victim and was asking for my sympathy and I chose to give it to him, hoping that in time, he would grow and learn to give an honest assessment of his past and take ownership for his shortcomings. I actually believed that if I loved him enough, he would see how much better he could be, and that was my mistake. I chose to ignore the value of putting effort into real-time communication, authenticity, and self evaluation, as well as partner evaluation, to see if there is compatibility beyond his physical attraction to me and my desire to love broken people. I ignored this warning sign and set myself up for more “crazy” in the end.

I viewed his insecurity about me hanging out with my friends as endearing as well. I actually found it flattering to think that someone wanted me all to themselves so much that they couldn’t contain their fears in the presence of my friends. I made a point to let him know when I hung out with my friends until I felt like he understood my routine and socialization schedule.. big mistake. After being accused of cheating for half of the relationship, I wish he had the mental capacity to comprehend that if I was going to cheat, I wouldn’t tell him who I’m with.

Kind of like how he didn’t tell me who he was with all those times he was “working late” but was actually picking up one of his old flings. I’d expect anyone I’m dating to comprehend this dynamic and I hold myself personally responsible for not sticking to my principles and ending it as soon as his IQ became apparent.

RED FLAG: I of all people should not have ignored the age gap. He was the youngest person I’d ever been with and every girl he had been with was younger than him. A chunk of his friends turned out to still be in high school, including the fling he snuck around to spend time with. Again, I chose to view this all as endearing and warned him to be careful because of statutory rape laws.

The reality: this was a red sign that we were at conflicting stages in our lives and our maturity levels. If he can connect with a girl in high school, how the fuck could I expect him to connect with me? I expect equal caliber or better.

And then there was the sex. Never in my life have I met someone who made nearly as big of a deal about it. From the very beginning, he got upset with me for calling it “fucking” and wanted to make it clear to me that we were “making love”. We had been hanging out for only two weeks when he decides to pop the “what are we?” question, during sex. It was like he wanted to build our relationship on sex. I can’t count how many times he came over or had me come over just to “make love” and then leave.

He also had a thing for squirting and talked down to me for not being able to do it like his exes. He implied several times that my orgasms were weak and sure enough, he slowly started spending more time going home early to masturbate and less time actually hanging out with me. Not to mention he was so secretive about porn and masturbation. I offered to watch porn with him so many times and he would try to kink shame me and tell me that nobody watches porn with their significant other. He got his friends to support him by twisting the story to say that I wasn’t okay with him watching it in the first place. I was definitely the one in the relationship that was more sex positive and he fought me as if I wasn’t. It was maddening.

I’m so much more accepting and open than he ever was, I can’t imagine what he could have been trying to hide from me. 

Everything was my fault, nothing was his fault. He was always right and I was always wrong. There was the sex stuff. If the sex wasn’t great one time, my fault. If I couldn’t get wet, my fault. Nevermind more foreplay, changing positions, or taking breaks. Nope, my fault. He never had these problems with his ex and definitely wouldn’t have these problems if he just masturbated. I’m a worthless bitch. Traffic’s bad? He’d yell at me. I was worthless, as were my opinions. I suggest don’t push your transmission so hard, it’s getting enough wear and tear with two delivery jobs. He’d tell me I was an idiot who didn’t know how to drive and continued to drive his little stock 4banger like it’s a racecar and sure enough, his transmission craps out. All my fault for not being able to tell that that’s what was happening by the sounds his car was making.

Whether it was a big thing or a little thing, my fault, I was wrong.

One of the first things that caught my attention about him was his apparent interest in reading research journals. After dating him for a little while, I realized he’d just read all this ridiculous shit online and got all these crazy and incorrect ideas from it. I’d disagree with one of his statements and not only was I wrong but oooooooh would that set him off, which brings us to…

The temper! Holy shit. The littlest things set him off. And I mean SET HIM OFF. I remember walking into a restaurant once and it was pretty crowded. We were meeting with some friends later and running short on time. There were no seats and a 45 minute wait. I suggested waiting until a couple people left, going somewhere else to eat, or just waiting to eat afterwards and maybe grabbing a snack to tide us over while we were with his friends. Oh boy was I wrong and those were stupid ideas. He paced around the bar, infuriated, swearing and shouting, looking for empty seats. I was mortified. He grabbed my arm and we left. All over not being able to grab some food before hanging out with friends who would probably like to go eat later anyway. Even smaller things set him off, like dropping a fucking potato chip on the floor would be followed by him throwing a tantrum and shouting. I’m pretty sure I lost some of my hearing from his road rage. He’d get so mad over the littlest things and if something big happened….fuck.

Needless to say, his anger made it impossible for him to be there for me when I went through some shit. To put it plainly, he yelled at me while I was in the hospital because I called him out on sneaking around with his old fling while I was away. He denied all of it, screamed at me until I was shaking and in tears, and then hung up. Oh and this was on Christmas Eve. I’d like to point out that I later found out that she was with him that night and that they had made plans for her to spend the night in our apartment.

He took jokes too far. Again, this was one of those constant things. It’s one thing to tease people about things, but there are just lines you don’t cross unless you’re being abusive. I understood his insecurity so well because I was insecure too (my own fault), but he’d tease me about stuff relentlessly and would get to saying actual mean things instead of funny, teasing things. I have a great sense of humor and can take a joke. Though insecure, I have a thick skin. I speak fluent sarcasm and smart-assery. He took it like 50 times too far, daily. That and shit talking strangers. He went as far as to imply that I enjoyed the sexual abuse I endured as a child, in front of his family and a bunch of people at a bar. It wasn’t that he lacked social filters, it was that he chose to ignore them because he found it funny. He’d openly admit he was mean, and said he enjoyed it.

I could never have a day to myself or with my friends without him holding it against me down the line. The first time I asked to have the day to myself, one of my male friends stopped by to pick up something. He never let me live that one down and swears that’s when things went downhill for us because I was “probably cheating.” I don’t recall a single time when I hung out with my friends without a negative repercussion. He made it very clear that he thought all of my friends were stupid, vapid and worthless, while obsessed about his look and being overly-concerned about how I felt about the looks of other people, including my friends. Go figure, these are the same friends he desperately tried to pick up, using the same lines he used on me about going on an adventure and building a sheet fort.

Spoiler Alert: he doesn’t know how to build a sheet fort and would rather have sex, complain about your body and either spew bullshit that he read online or talk shit about other people. 

Something important to talk about? Text only. Yeah. And it wasn’t because he expressed himself better via writing than orally. No, he just didn’t want to see me cry or be upset by something he’d say. It was so he didn’t have to deal with any consequences. Thankfully and regrettably I had my family and friends around to pick up the pieces after our conversations. Some things are better said in person, but he never had the decency to do this. I at first assumed that he just felt more comfortable talking this way because he was a bit of an introvert. So when I needed to tell him about my pregnancy via text… shit, that was the wrong thing to do because “why the fuck would you tell me something like this over text???” Yeah, double standards.

 This motherfucker had god-awful communication skills.

I had a hard time understanding the way he complimented me. He spent the first 4 months complimenting me non-stop. I appreciated it but at the same time, none of the compliments actually fit me as a person. It was almost as if he was just reading a script of things you could say to flatter a girl but not a particular individual. He ultimately tried using those same compliments to woo my friends. I felt so bad for being suspicious of his authenticity but now I know my instincts were right.

I could think of a thousand more red flags but this is long enough. A lot of them are huge in retrospect but at the time, they were so subtle and happened so slowly. They were little things that piled up. These sorts of little things could have been cleared up with communication, which he sorely lacked. I asked him why he invited his fling to spend the night when I was in hospice and he took offense and said I was accusing him of stuff. A normal person would say “I’m not ready to share that information with you because I’m afraid that you won’t allow me to see her again or other xyz reason. I’ll check back in with you in 1-2 months when I’ve found the best way to communicate this to you.” Not him, no honesty or accountability, providing no way to successfully plan for the future, and no regard for my feelings or my well-being. It all seems so glaringly obvious now, but he was very manipulative and would have me question my feelings of uncertainty when things didn’t add up. He would rather I feel guilty and ashamed about my suspicions; doubting my instincts, than be forthcoming. 

I am guilty of ignoring these signs and continuing to fight for him when he had checked out of the relationship long ago. I am responsible for the collateral damage to my ability to trust myself but I will no longer hate myself for trying because I fell in love with this boy who had yet to be at peace with his body, his mind, his weaknesses. I tried to build him, to find the parts of him that are missing in me. I ended up with a hole in my chest and a deeper understanding of my limits and who I am.  

If being with someone leads you to disregard your feelings, ideas and experience.. disregard that person. Your instincts exist to protect you. Anyone who discredits them is an enemy.