#guh writing this reminded me of being a little kid

[roe-and-memory]

do you think sometimes lightning was lulled to sleep by the hum of jake brakes on the trucks around him . its a nostalgic sound for him, from the days when he was 15, after he ran away and lived in the truck with mack, when mack would drive late into the night and lightning was too tired to stay up and chat. do you think he’d lay in his bunk with his plastic glow in the dark stars taped to the bottom of macks bunk above him, with his walkman in his hand and his headphones half off, just listening to the sounds of bustling life around him.

the car honks, the air compression brakes lifting, the jake brakes humming as the trucks come to a stop, the warm streetlights filtering in through the windshield and windows . do u believe that for the first time in years he finally started sleeping, comforted by the presence of mack, who might as well be his older brother, and the active life around him, moving and breathing just like him .

he still had his nightmares, but he had someone there to keep him safe . and that was enough for him.

[damerondala]

Suture Up Your Future

i was watching reservoir dogs last night and that scene in the beginning with mr. orange is so intense i wanted to write some bad batch AnGst that mirrors it (and yes, the title is a queens of the stone age song, im really just snatching ideas from everybody huh lol). im also not too knowledgeable about trauma wounds like this and how to patch them up, but i did my best so pls be nice lmao im a sensitive bitch

Pairing: Platonic Bad Batch x Gender Neutral Reader / Platonic Tech x Gender Neutral Reader 

Warnings: adult dialogue, severe wounds and blood loss, wound suturing, sad batch ™ but with a happy ending! yay! 

Word Count: approx. 1.4k 

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

“Say it for me, Tech.” You were met with an agonistic cry instead of the words you needed the trooper to say. Not only to reassure himself, but you as well. “Say it,” you nearly screamed while he lay there bleeding out, “You’re going to be okay, fucking say it. You’re going to be okay.” 

“I,” a sharp intake of breath made his chest heave and a new wave of fresh blood come out of his gaping wound, covering your hands in the warm substance, “‘m guh be oh-okay.” 

“There we go, come on Tech, come on buddy breathe for me.” 

~

Nothing was out of the ordinary when you woke up that day. Hunter asked if you wanted to stay on the Marauder while he, Tech, and Crosshair went on a supply run. Hunter sang his reassurances to you, fully knowing you had a point when you reminded him that this planet was not the most welcoming place for outsiders. Especially the army of the Republic. But Hunter made sure they had civilian clothing to disguise themselves; this was the closest planet you all could get to at the moment, with the little fuel you had, after all. “In and out, just like that,” the sergeant cooed with a snap of his fingers to enunciate the last word of his promise. 

Echo, Wrecker, and yourself gave your best wishes to the group, then retreated back to the hull of the beloved ship. Echo toying with a new prosthetic he and Tech had been working on, Wrecker subjecting poor Gonky to yet another workout, and you occupied yourself with some tidying up. Maker knows that five busy soldiers plus one even busier medic, patching up said soldiers on a regular basis, equaled a filthy ship that was in dire need of some elbow grease. 

What none of you had expected however, was the very early return of the three bad batchers, one of them being supported by the other two. Barely able to walk and blood leaking out of his abdomen. 

Panic set in your gut upon the sight. Wrecker and Echo already in front of you, screaming their concerns and questions while you scrambled back into the ship to clear the table that was littered with empty dishes and Tech’s projects, then sprinting to your medkit to snag the supplies you’d need to treat a wound such as this. Returning to the table just as Wrecker set his vod down on the flat surface that, might you add, was much too small for his six-four frame and much too dirty for the situation at hand, but would have to do. Considering the severity of the scene before you. Tech had an enormous gash — you guessed from some sort of large knife — that ran from the bottom of his left ribs all the way to the front of his abdomen, ending just above his bellybutton. 

“Fucking bounty hunters,” Crosshair growled from behind you but you couldn’t afford to pay him any mind, Tech was damn near about to bleed to death if you didn’t act quick. You could curse the people who did this to your friend later. “Echo, he’s going to need more blood. Get Wrecker hooked up to the blood draw.” You ordered while applying pressure to the gash, Tech’s blood slowing at the contact, but still steadily seeping through your fingers. Normally Wrecker would pout about being hooked up to a machine but the sight of his friend dancing with death made him move quicker than any of you had ever seen, ripping his shirt sleeve up so Echo could begin drawing blood. 

The scene felt like a dream. Well, more like a nightmare, one that never stopped no matter how badly you wished you could just wake up and it would all be over. Instead, you were sweating through your shirt, a few tears stained your cheeks, and you were fucking covered in blood; Tech’s blood, to make the matter even more chilling. Everything happened so fast, you desperately wished you had gone on the run instead of Tech. Maybe that way you could all be sitting around this table, playing cards and giggling at Echo and Wrecker’s bickering over who’s cheating by now. 

“What do you need me to do?” Hunter stepped to your side, prepared to do anything in order to save the youngest of the squad. “Get the gauze and alcohol out of my pack.” You threw your head in the direction of the stocked medpack sitting on the table near Tech’s legs. Hunter opened the bottle of antiseptic and handed it to you, Crosshair on the other side of the table taking the gauze from Hunter’s hand. Ready to stuff the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding more until you could properly suture him up. Dumping the alcohol inside the gash caused Tech to gasp, eyebrows furrowing and body going taut at the pain you inflicted on him. You pleaded with him to relax and help you in reassuring himself that he would be fine. Both you and Hunter continuing the verbal comfort while Crosshair unraveled the pristine white gauze and began shoving it into Tech’s side, dying it crimson almost immediately. The pressure from both yours and Crosshair’s hands did a good job at stopping the blood loss, just enough so you could begin really cleaning him up and sewing his abdomen back together. Hunter helped with handing you the needle and thread and you began puncturing Tech’s skin and pulling the thread through the tissue. 

Cries and mumbles of curses came from Tech’s lips, his face paler than any of you had ever seen before. “Shhh…eh..it,” Tech groaned as you diligently worked at his stomach. You silently thanked whatever celestial  power that was out there for slowing down the blood flow to a much more manageable pace. Crosshair’s efforts clearly paid off, you mentally noted, as you watched his steady marksman hands slowly remove the gauze while you advanced with your stitching. 

“Blood transfusion is ready,” Echo suddenly appeared, ready to start replenishing the blood Tech had lost. “Just in time,” you managed a half-smile, not entirely sure of where it came from. But looking back, you think it was out of hope. 

Tech’s glazed eyes silently caught the way your mouth curled up and he was infinitely grateful for it. To him — and the other members of the squad — you were a beacon of light in the cruel and unforgiving war you all were in the midst of. It was easy to let the darkness and the violence consume them, but the second you joined their squad as their senior medic, there was that sudden sense of hope; you were something that made all of it even more worth it. 

The entire procedure of fixing up your friend honestly was a blur for the most part. One second they were dragging Tech’s limp and bloody body up the ramp, the next you all found yourselves slumped into chairs, over crates, hell, you were nearly passed out from exhaustion on the floor next to the table Tech was splayed out on. His wound clean and stitched to near perfection, and Wrecker’s blood slowly being pumped back into his veins, bringing that beautiful, healthy tan back to his features. 

Being so tired led you to neglect the dried blood all over your arms and shirt. In your haze, you remember Wrecker gently grasping your biceps and heaving you off the grimy ground, urging you to wash up and change. When you began to protest, the gentle giant rubbed up and down your arms in an effort to persuade you, “He’ll be fine, kid. You stitched him up real good. Plus, you know how queasy he gets with blood. He’d want you to get cleaned up.” Just as the final syllable left his mouth, you felt the soft cotton of your extra shirt being brushed against your forearm, Crosshair’s arm extended to you from his place on a ration crate with a nod in your direction. A silent way of showing you he agreed with his older brother — we got him, don’t worry. 

Your squad member��s wisdom proved to be true. Stepping out of the fresher in a new shirt sans sweat stains and blood, and your skin nice and clean, you were greeted with the sight of everybody crowding around their youngest vod still laying on the table. Weaseling your way in between Hunter and Echo, you found Tech awake. Albeit less sharp than he usually is, but still awake. Breathing. Fucking alive. The weight of dread that had been crushing your chest was suddenly gone, letting your lungs fully expand for the first time in hours. A soft hand found Tech’s cheek, the tips of your fingers accidentally bumping the edge of his goggles and another smile gracing your face, this one out of relief. 

“Told you you’d be okay.” 

[babblingblondegenius]

Future Ficlet: All You Need is Love...and Coffee

Wow, tonight’s episode was brutal.  Between the painful Olicity separation in present time and the lack of Olicity in the dark future of the flash-forwards, we aren’t seeing any of the happy right now.  There seems to be no hope. Our heroes’ sacrifices were all in vain.  Basically, everything sucks.

As kismet would have it, a couple of weeks ago, I shared a fun little head canon with @allimariexf and @hope-for-olicity and they both encouraged me to ‘write the thing.’  I’ve had a terrible case of writer’s block for quite some time (meaning I have a gazillion story ideas and a ton of WIPs that are unfinished).  I expected this one to end up dormant in my drafts as well.  But after tonight’s episode, I felt the need to finish it because we (and Olicity, of course) deserve a little hope and happy.  Set two years in the future, the premise of this little fluffy ficlet is that Felicity needs an assistant but she has particular criteria ;)  

This should have been the easy part.  

After months of enticing investors, obtaining the proper licenses and permits, all the legal mumbo jumbo, and locating the perfect office space, hiring an executive assistant is going to be the breaking point where she finally loses her sanity.  

Which completely defeats the purpose of trying to find someone to help her in the first place.

She has been doing fine on her own, thriving actually, since she decided it was time to recommence building a tech company from the ground up, sans Curtis this time.   This venture, for better or worse, will be all hers.  Her vision.  Her name. Her legacy.

Despite her initial apprehension at that thought, she has a clarity and confidence in her mission and goals that has propelled her forward at a pace she couldn’t have imagined.  So far, choosing which of her many prototypes she wanted to launch first has been her biggest challenge.

Until now.  

She had narrowed down the stack of over 100 applications to the eight most qualified for the position, and began the interview process at 7:00 this morning.  

The first one had been punctual, neat, and lacking any sort of personality whatsoever.  

The second one arrived twenty minutes late and then interrupted Felicity mid-interview to take a non-emergency personal call on her cell phone.

The third one tapped her super long artificial nails on the edge of Felicity’s desk the entire time and included ‘loud typer’ when asked how her current co-workers would describe her.

The fourth one was a chaotic whirlwind who overshared details of his personal life on every single question.

Maybe he just had too much caffeine in his system. Or maybe she doesn’t have enough.

Coffee.  She needs coffee.  Her next interviewee isn’t scheduled to come in for another hour, so she takes the reprieve to just lay her head down on her desk for a moment in order to gather up the energy she needs to make the trek down the block for her caffeine fix.

“One vanilla soy latte, extra sugar, extra cinnamon, extra whip cream.”  

Oh yes.  That’s exactly what she wants.  Why she is thinking it in Oliver’s voice, she doesn’t know.  Her coffee daydream is so vivid, she can even smell the soothing notes of vanilla with hints of sweet cinnamon spice wafting through the air. Mmmmmmmm.

“Felicity….honey, are you okay?”  Oliver’s voice again.  She slowly lifts her head and sees her husband standing on the other side of her desk, holding a large cup emblazoned with the logo of her favorite java joint and her name scrawled across it in black marker.

“I am now,” she practically purrs as he hands over her treasured treat.  After taking a deep inhale and a long swallow, she blissfully smiles at him.  “It’s perfect.  You’re perfect.”  Suddenly jumping up out of her chair, she shares the revelation brought on by the jolt of caffeine in her system. “Oh!  I have a great idea!  You should apply to be my EA.”  

Oliver chuffs out a laugh.  “Because I brought you coffee?  Your standards must be pretty low.”  

“Worried you couldn’t cut it, Mr. Queen?” she asks, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“I think my time served as Mayor proves otherwise,” he retorts with an air of gravitas but mimics her gesture, silently letting her know that he enjoys her teasing him and is willing to play along.  

She shakes her head.  “Nope, not helpful.  You couldn’t even get me a break on my taxes when you were the mayor.  What are your current qualifications?”

He ponders the inquiry for a moment before responding proudly, “I’m the head chef at Chez Queen.”

She rolls her eyes at Oliver’s corny moniker for their kitchen but gives him an encouraging smile.  “Oh yeah, I’ve eaten there a few times.  The food is magnificent.  But do you have any business experience?”

His expression goes from proud to smug.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  I was formerly the CEO of Queen Consolidated.”

She takes another swig of coffee and checks an incoming text on her cell phone before reminding him, “I happen to have first-hand knowledge you wouldn’t have made it a week without your super smart and highly efficient EA.”   

“That’s true,” he concedes with a grin, “though on the downside, she only brought me coffee one time.  One”, he repeats, taking her coffee and phone and setting them off to the side. Placing his palms flat on the edge of her desk, he leans in closer, a visible twinkle in his vivid blue eyes.   “I think she actually broke our coffeemaker.  Violently,” he teases in a conspiratorial whisper.

Mirroring her husband, she leans in over the desk until their noses are almost touching.  “A little violence doesn’t scare you, does it, Mr. Queen?”  She allows her gaze to run down the length of his torso, visibly appreciating the definition of his biceps that his jacket cannot conceal. “You look like you could handle yourself just fine.”

“I like to stay in shape.”  He feigns modesty but she knows her husband and can recognize that look in his eyes. “Some cardio, free weights, martial arts, salmon ladder…”

“That’s so hot” she blurts out, temporarily slipping out of character as her brain produces an amazing visual of sweaty and shirtless Oliver making his way up the salmon ladder.  Will there ever be a day when that doesn’t turn her on?  Probably not, and judging from the self-satisfied smirk on his face, he mentioned it on purpose just to get that very reaction out of her.   Determined to get back on track, she rephrases, “I mean, that sounds interesting.”  She decides a change of topic would be helpful to give her an advantage in their little game.  “Computer skills?”

She immediately regrets that question when Oliver gives her a feral smile that makes her weak in the knees.  Lowering his voice to the same octave he uses when he is dressed in green leather, he divulges, “I’ve hacked a federal prison network.”

Guh, game over.  In all her years with Oliver, that is the sexiest thing he has ever said. She quickly makes her way around the desk and invades his personal space. “Seems like you’re a man of many talents,” she coos appreciatively, latching onto his arm and nuzzling her face into the sleeve of his jacket to breathe in the scent that is uniquely Oliver.

“My wife taught me a thing or two,” he boasts, turning so they are face-to-face and he can wrap his arms around her.  

Her hands instinctively move from his arm to his chest, resting over his heart.  “She must be an amazing woman.”

Oliver nods in agreement, his nose nuzzling hers. “She is.  She’s the best.”

“I know you’re just saying that to get husband points and its working,” she acknowledges affectionately, her hand caressing the stubble on his jaw.   He tilts his head into her palm like a contented cat and she takes the opportunity to kiss him like she wanted to since she saw him in front of her desk, whether it was five minutes ago with coffee or nine years ago with a bullet-ridden laptop.  

Oliver moans and deepens the kiss, the fervent strokes of his tongue making her long for more.  “Okay, you’re hired,” she pants, breaking the kiss when her need for air temporarily overcomes her need for Oliver.  “Smoak Tech is a start-up so your health care package consists of me patching you up if you are injured and I’m sure we can work out some type of compensation for your time and skills,” provocatively shifting her body against his and feeling his obvious interest through his jeans and her skirt.  Two soft kisses and one firm rotation of his hips later, she is internally debating the sturdiness of her desk and whether they have time for her to show him exactly what she means by ‘compensation’ before her next appointment shows up.

“That’s a very tempting offer, Ms. Smoak” he murmurs into her hair as his hand travels down her back and immediately finds its usual place on the curve of her shapely ass, pulling her impossibly closer, “but I’m afraid my current employer really needs me right now and I just can’t bear to leave her,” his free hand gesturing to the stroller where their daughter slumbers peacefully.

Felicity sighs, pure happiness filling her heart and clearing her mind as she rests her head on her husband’s chest to gaze lovingly at the chubby-cheeked, perfect amalgamation of her and Oliver they brought into the world just four short months ago.   “Sounds like she has you wrapped around her little finger.”  

Oliver rests his chin on the top of her head and she can hear the love and contentment in his voice when he whispers in her hair, “From the very first moment I met her.  She takes after her mother that way.”

A/N:  Thank you for reading!  I hope this helped to soothe the sting of all the angst.  Queen family feels FTW.  William was not in this fic because at that time of day, he should be in school and also I didn’t want to traumatize him any further with Olicity’s blatant flirty flirt.  The poor kid has seen enough already lol.  

Huge thanks and virtual hugs to @allimariexf and @hope-for-olicity for all the fun conversations and being all around wonderful :)

Oliver’s ‘current employer’ ;)

[curupiracue]

Planning (or attempts to)

“Dammit Novalue, we wasted too much time! Were i-?!” I suddenly interrupt myself when a certain bitch enters my field of vision, walking out of an alley. She notices me too, stops, sits down and all but flat-out tells me to go to the Mental World.

Novalue notices it too, and looks at me, silently asking what we should do.

“She probably knows the situation better. So if she isn’t pursuing the serial killer, that means there is not much I can do…” My tone of voice rapidly changes to something enthusiastic “Now! The question is, should we take this chance to shoot her in the head, or just shoot her in the head?”

“I’m not participating if you decide to fight her, unless it’s on the off-chance you’re about to get yourself killed.”

“Muri! How the hell would that happen? I’m as invincible as a diamond in a cutting contest, and she is no hammer! Nyahahah!”

‘This time, Novalue sighs.

“Well? Shall we go?”

“Mm. Yes, let’s.”

(Entering the nowhere of importance. Wait patiently, if you will?)

The moment we get there, Wims (tries) to joyfully greet us.

“Why, hel-”

“HOW IN THE SEVEN HELLS DID YOU MANAGE TO LET HIM ESCAPE!?!”

“...Well, so much for the passive-aggressive beginning.” She replies dryly, without any of the previous fake merriness

“Ooh~? I have no problems with that. I’m friends with passive-aggressiveness, differently from you and catching criminals~” Hahah! Now that caused some umbrage, I can see it in her expression~

“Well… Sorry if I can’t catch a coward that runs away. Maybe if I had your help… oh, but you couldn’t be bothered.”

“Oh? You’d need me? Heheheh, no, that’s not a surprise, see, I’m actually just shocked because you’re willing to admit this in all your arrogance.”

“Not necessarily in combat. I could have gathered as much info as I wanted about his powers and his schedule, if only you had told me about the circumstance. But you’re too petty for that, aren’t you Nim? Would rather let people potentially die, I guess.”

“Well, YEAH! I couldn’t care less about that. You on the other hand, seems to be enjoying playing little goody two shoes without actually being one. Or trying to be one. That’s as miserable as a fish out of water… on a volcano.”

“Oh, I’m not good by any stretch. I just meant to say that anyone with a shred of morality is more moral than you, you hyper-sociopath. Remind me to beat you to a pulp one of these days, yeah?”

“Huhh?! One of these days? Why not right now? The serial killer isn’t coming back, so you’re not risking anything other than learning the fact that you cannot possibly hope to beat me.”

“Last time says otherwise.”

“Last time you had an advantage, bitch.”

“Hohoh! Then I guess it’s about time I prove I don’t need one.”

She started walking in my direction, and I did the same.

“Wouldn’t write a thesis about that. Speaking of writing, considering you’ll be left mentally crippled for life, I wonder who is going to write the article about your demi-WAAHH?!?”

“Hu-Uwoooh?!”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

To say that I didn’t see this coming would be equal to lying, but it escalated a little bit too fast. Thankfully, I had time to set up two unreal areas while they were distracted. The moment they gave their first steps, their legs entered unreality, and without support, so did the rest of the body.

Pop.

Ttuumm.

“Guh!”

“Ugh.”

And then I popped the unreal areas back into existence, making both Nim and Wims fell on the ground.

“That’s enough, you two.”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

...Well, that caught me by surprise. Novalue’s the type of underdog that wins by being surprisingly powerful when and where you least expect it.

Unreality… His primary construction. The power to make it so that anything within a certain area ceases to affect the other world. Well. It’s annoyingly more complex than that. But who in their right would be describing that as their leg suddenly disappear and they fall nowhere? I mean… sure, the construction can’t actually hurt anything, since whatever is in unreality is still connected to the part that is still real, but like… explaining crap like this, it’s like we’re on a book or something!

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected in all different senses)

“Yes you are.”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

“(very) exasperated sigh) Nim, you’re being an idiot because you refuse to cooperate with her even though the situation calls for it. Wims, you’re being an idiot because you refuse to acknowledge the circumstance. What Nim wants to do would be hardly detrimental. Don’t say that he didn’t even ask either: it’s obvious you would have killed the murderer behind our backs if he did. Hell, you attacked them even when we were obviously planning something. I’m honestly sick and tired of having to watch you two degenerate into fighting like two brats every time we speak.”

“Ugh… I suppose I deserved that.”

“Tsk. Fair enough. But, Novalue, you’re wrong on one account: I didn’t attack him while knowing of your plan: I was just warned of something interesting and after sensing that man’s power, I guessed the rest.”

“You were warned through the crow… Then, did you receive information such as the killer’s face and overall appearan-”

“Of course not, dumbass. That crow… probably died...”

Oh.

Well, at least Nim’s being sensitive about it.

Wims seemed to have a rare moment of sentimentality. But her stoic nature and the ease to manipulate our Mental World’s avatars made it hard for me to see it.

“Yes, quite… So I’m in quite the sore mood now. That bastard killed Jesus… this can’t be allowed.” She clenched her fist with anger and looked at us.

“So. Here’s the reason I called you here, to the Mental World...” She put her hand on her head and pulled photos out of it, right before tossing them to us.

In those photos, were…

A knife.

A man shrouded in fog.

And an arm holding a knife, attempting to stab her.

“There are...”

“...Not reminiscence photos.”

“Huh?”

“Ugh, for fuck’s sake Novalue, you’re useless. ...They don’t have that feeling of power. These are probably… ordinary images, manifestations of her memory. They look like those photos cuz’ it was probably easier to re-use the frame.”

“Precisely. Well, normally, since these are just memories created and stored naturally without use of a construction, there would be inaccuracies… But since I am flawless, so are these.”

Nim took a good look at the photo he was holding.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Huh, what~?”

Ugh… What a pest. Well, anyway...

She couldn’t hear the word of Jesus, but still managed to come up with something of her own… So she is muslim?

...No, that joke was awful. Nim would complain about imprecisions too.

“Anyway! Ms. Fourt-”

“Oh, please dispense with the formalities~”

“...Alright bitch, tell us what you know.”

(Time passes...)

“In addition to that...”

“You’re going to say that he detected us, aren’t you? ‘Cause I already kn-”

“Stop being such a glory hound. That said… yes. You were far away, but he managed to detect you, that or he made a random turn for no reason, which is doubtful. Given his overall inexperience, I think it’s safe to say that’s another construction of his, rather than being good at Sensing.”

“So… Summing it up, there are four of them. Two primary, and two secondary, judging from their power. The primary ones are an utility construction that is presumably not combat applicable and that can be used to erase memories, and a combat construction that summons a shadowed arm. The secondary constructions are also combat constructions, most likely, though that doesn’t matter. One of them hides his presence, and the other can be used as a scout. But we don’t know what exactly it does. It might detect other minds, or it might warn him of danger, or it might allow him to see things that are far away… Well, out of these, the last one makes more sense for a combat construction. But now that I think about it, it could be a primary utility construction. Kind of a newbie’s move, but he IS inexperienced...”

“I doubt that arm would have so much power if he had divided his attention between 3 primary constructions… And we also don’t know much about that memory wiping one… though, I doubt we’ll need to worry with that.”

“Hmmm… naruhodo. Thanks for summing it up, Novalue. I think I got the general idea of his powers. On video game terms, he'd be a "Glass Canon" of sorts. He possesses devastating ranged attacks, that, while restricted and held back by a few weaknesses, are still tricky to avoid, his fog shit to cover his location and GPS to guarantee that we can't do the same. But when it comes to direct combat, his hand ability ends up lacking in proper versatility and defense capability, and he doesn't really have any good defensive or movement options. His Erasure power is pretty good, and works at melee, but it takes way to long and is too weak to make a difference. Not to mention, trying to touch someone with his kit doesn't really bode well.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“(sigh...) You’re two useless idiots. Specially you, Wims.”

“What was that?!”

“I mean, Novalue has an excuse since he flat out wouldn’t be able to do this… but you came face-to-face with the killer and couldn’t be bothered? Guess you wanted to just end this quickly, but gathering info is your job… Are you that bad at it?”

“Why you…!”

“You know… When I was a kid, I wanted to be a babysister, but I can now see that this was a horrible mistake… Nim. What are you talking about? Don’t tell me that you managed to get a copy of his construction?”

“Ugh. He sure did. And by pure luck, by the looks of it.”

“Aww, did you view a little film of my pathetic life because you were feeling even more pathetic after losing to me? Better to win with luck than lose whe-”

“...No need to read your memories. You put a trap in someone, didn’t you? You were probably developing it as a minor construction, or maybe not even that, just a magic trick, every since you heard about about the memory erasures. A trap that made it so that, if someone with it got their memories erased, you would get a copy of whatever erased it.”

“Wow, you figured it out! Elaborate huuuh~? But you didn’t even need that! He was close to you. So you have just wanked it out of him, or read his memories concerning it. Even with the fog, you could probably overpower him with your superior stren-”

“Nim, shut the fuck up.”

“Hmmph. Prickly after losing your crow, I see. ...Well… let’s just present it:”

Suddenly, Nim summoned a shadowy figure.

“It’s just a being made of information. No way could I have gotten away with making a copy of the real thing. In essence, after the killer touches you, he can install this on your mind. Then after 4 hours of preparation and another 4 of waiting, it attacks. If it gets you, BOOM! Heart attack. Then it rummages through your memories, deleting them and only stopping whenever it finds someone. If it does, it will go to that person’s mind and delete the information about the original person as well as putting them into a “trance” for a while, during which they will ignore signs of the erased person’s existence. Quite the nice work, I must say~ ...I mean, I could do better, but still.”

“Huh. Sounds like it won’t present a problem to us after all. Incidentally, shouldn’t we make sure he can’t quit town?”

“...I already did that. The crows are keeping a close watch at the exits. For now, nobody left. I feel like he’s aware that it would be a bad idea… Well, at the very least, he knows what my crows can do, since he did me the FUCKING FAVOR of killing one of them...”

“Well, if you’re that pissed, how’s about we do something about it?”

“Agreed. Though now more than ever I DON’T wanna’ cooperate with you Nim, it was part of the plan from the get go.”

“Speaking of plans… Exactly how can I trust you not to backstab me?”

“Oh, you can’t~”

“...I’ll put you on a damn leash if I have to…”

“Ugh. Fine, you have my word… You’re an idealistic shit, Nim.”

“Why, thank you. Go live in a barrel with a staff, some rags and a loaf of bread. And remind me if I’m in front of the sun, bitch.”

“...Now that this is out of the way...” I butted in.

“Shall we start our plans?”

[robbing-the-hood-a]

Thankgiving

           He’s 4 when Elliot can think back to the first thanksgiving he’s ever had clearly. Gram is wrapping him up in nice clothing at the soup kitchen, picking out from the stock first and trying to get him warm clothing for this coming winter. There was plates before that they were able to eat and now it's mostly chatter and talk an a priest spreading god’s work. Elliot remembers looking up to the old lady that was like a mother but not, with her 3 missing teeth and wrinkly face, graying hair as she smiles down at him and smooths his hair down.

“Gahm.” he says, stumbles and She smiles because he getting close to sentences now and a warmth of pride fills him because she’s smiling.

  “Time to go dear.” Is all she says as Gram takes his hand, and they leave.

       He’s 4 when Elliot can think back to the first thanksgiving he’s ever had clearly. Gram is wrapping him up in nice clothing at the soup kitchen, picking out from the stock first and trying to get him warm clothing for this coming winter. There was plates before that they were able to eat and now it's mostly chatter and talk an a priest spreading god’s work. Elliot remembers looking up to the old lady that was like a mother but not, with her 3 missing teeth and wrinkly face, graying hair as she smiles down at him and smooths his hair down.

“Gahm.” he says, stumbles and She smiles because he getting close to sentences now and a warmth of pride fills him because she’s smiling.

   “Time to go dear.” Is all she says as Gram takes his hand, and they leave.

           He’s 5 when he spends that thanksgiving alone, shivering in the alleyway and cold. He had tried to wake up Gram two days ago and still she slept. He was worried because soon the soup kitchen would close and food would be gone. But she still won't wake and Elliot is refusing to leave her.

“G-guh-gram” he says, reaching over to shake her cold body. But she refuses to wake once more and Elliot shivers stomach rolling on himself because he hasn't eaten for 3 days now but still refusing to move.

      He’s 6 and is parading around as a self proclaimed hero, looking into the window sills of people and seeing families of all class come together with ham or some bird. He could smell it in the air and taste it as he ran. And there a ugly twisted emotion in his chest as he turns his back to them and leaps from rooftop to rooftop.

   He can't help ponder how its funny that he hasn't caught sight of Batman or Robin.

@flashgotthis @ofkryptcn @reckless-wildfire @thenightclxw @woolfcried @not-batgirl

               Elliot hides behind the name Rob, he’s 7 and has met both his HERO and His hero mentor. He has met Men that could bend steel and Run fast as lightning. Meets Boys that became Cats with a ruggish grin that just caused heat to his face and a nice lady that tends to his wounds once and awhile and listens to his stories sometime. Rob can't help the small smile when Flash stops by with a plastic container in his hand, a claim that he can't eat ALL the food by himself. (when Rob knows that not true.)

When Superman flies by from where he guess Batman place and wave at Rob with a “Happy Thanksgiving!” before flying off. When Robin and Batgirl start patrol later than normal but carrying another container with PIE in it and ice cream and all three sit eating. Smiles all around and jokes here and there.

Rob stopping by Dani place mid patrol and looks inside, before placing another potted plant on the outside of her seil and then leaps away. This time not falling!

Rob then finally stops in the alley where he lived with Gram and sets a small plate of turkey down, leftovers from Wally’s plate and just sits there until morning.

He can't help smiling this whole time.

               By the time Rob turns 8, He seems to be alone once more. Claws is gone, disappeared and he hasn't seen Flash in a while. Robin seems to be Gone and now a new kid has come and growls at him all the time. Street Rat to Street Rat talk. Back away from mine. Rob can take the hint. He knew he was just a cheap knock off anyway.

But Rob doesn't let this get to him and he out once more trying to do good. Try to do what's right. And there no rest for the wicked so there won't be for this “Robin.”

….It's Fine.

……….It's Fine.

    @eggplantbatprincess @jaybirdtxdd @knightvigilante

  In another world Rob is just learning who his real mother is, as the blond hair looks at him and cries, mummers of “im sorry, im sorry, im so sorry” is played on repeat and echoing in his mind. Staying with a man name Jason Todd and Training under Batman.

                     @atriumstrix @thenightstxr

               Its Street Kid now, and he’s 14 and better than he was before. The Robin an Him have come to an agreement and understand each other. They know Rob isn't a threat to him and there is a stalemate. Claws is still gone, there apartment still empty besides the time Elliot goes to clean it up. But once more he spends Thanksgiving alone and on the streets. Batgirl has came by and giving him a plate but other then that Rob focuses on moving on. Maybe go see his Nightlight.

But he gets a text and looking down he sees it Buns. And Elliot can't help the throb that goes threw him because it reads “Come over.” and Elliot is already turning and heading that way.

                Street Kid is 15, he’s fifteen and in intensive care, dreams of laughter and burning fire keeps him up at night. And his mouth is in PAIN everyday. The bandages keeping him from talking is the worst torture ever because all it does is remind him of his time with Joker.

He feels scrapped and cut open, The burns on his back are on FIRE and never seem to be able to be put out even with the amount of drugs pumping into him.

And all Elliot can do is cry and cry because he’s here, in a hospital alone once more. Spending thanksgiving and just recently he’s learning that Robin had died and Batgirl wasn't Batgirl and Elliot was just another victim in this war. And here he is. Alone.

               Elliot is 17 and he doesn't even know it's Thanksgiving. He knows that everything hurts and phantom pain lights up once more on old scars but his teacher is giving him a look and Elliot hisses as he once more pulls himself off the floor and moves into a stance. His body has grown from a small boy into a bulk of a man. And now he learns how to control and move it.

All he knows is that his teacher is harsh and strict, comes at him even harder.

          Elliot is now 18, He goes by the name Outlaw and has come back into the fold of the Bats. He learned there was more Robins, new Batgirls and that THE Batgirl was back in action. He learns that the scrappy Robin is now Red Hood.

He learns that Flash/Wally and Claws were together in Central City and Claws is now BACK.

He learns of Buns betrayal and just where his Armour came from.

He learns that Many things are different but Thanksgiving is still the same it seems. Because he in the city of Gotham once more and pulling shift until the others come out.

It's fine. It's Fine. It's Fine.

But then Batgirl comes by and smiles, and Outlaw smiles back as they sit down with pie between them and ice cream.

And then slowly the other bats come too and Outlaw is being introduced to Rooftop tag.

And it's really fine this time.

   @woolfcried @thenightclxw

   Outlaw is 19 and he’s stuck between two bodies. They won't move and let him up and Elliot really needs to pee but won't disturb their rest. The feast they had eaten hours before placing them all in a food coma. He only just smiles and takes a breath, forces his mind to ignore the urge and snuggle up closer to the redhead while claws burrows closer into his back.

He wonders what Next Thanksgiving will bring.  

SO the reason for this little dabble to grace you guys is because you ALL been so good to me even tho i kinda vanish before for some time. I wanted to write a dabble on how Rob would of spent his thanksgiving but it seem to of.....gotten away from me. 

ANYWAYS DONT LOOK TO MUCH INTO THIS! Alot of this was from his Main Vers. with TheNightClxw/atriumstrix/thenightstxr and FlashGotThis an WoolfCried. But everyone else i cant wait to get to writing with you!!! 

Happy Thanksgiving! 

[shirtlesssammy]

Hello, Cruel World: 7x02 Recap

Then:

Castiel accidentally swallowed some Leviathan

Now:

Things pick up right where 7x01 left off. Cas is gone, and his vessel is oozing more goo than normal.

He wanders off, leaving Bobby and Dean stunned. Sam, meanwhile, is 100% fruitbat, getting tortured by Lucifer. Dean and Bobby save him from his hallucinations, and all three head out in search of Leviathan!Cas.

Cas, now even more gooey than ever, heads for the water. The others reach the water’s edge just as he descends into the lake, like some sadistic baptism, turning into a vortex of black goo.

o_O uh, no thank you o_O

The good news? The leviathan exploded in in a reservoir that’s connected to the public water supply! Yay!

Dean then notices Cas’s trench coat in the water, and fishes it out.

He gently folds it, holding it close to his body, caressing it with all the pain of loss and words left unsaid (Ha, Boris can’t write. I leave that heavy lifting to the very talented Natasha.) (Natasha: just key smashes in pain.) Long story short: Dean holds that coat like the last memento of a dead loved one, because it is. Bobby and Sam both watch Dean with eagle eyes, and it’s sad. I couldn’t really see through all the water on my face though. Also, when he squeezes the coat briefly before the camera cuts away? Guh.

Sidenote: I can’t imagine being in the fandom this season!! Like, Cas was supposed to be dead, like dead-dead, like really, really, ‘Jared didn’t spoil this one’ dead. Dark times. (Natasha: I wasn’t in fandom but was watching live since season 5. I never believed he was truly dead so I believe I wasn’t terribly bothered. My heart is a lump of granite.)

And the leviathan make their grand entrance into society via a montage set to the Doobie Brothers’ “Black Water”....a little too on the nose show, but I like it.

Back at Bobby’s, Dean turns to what he does best: looking after Sammy. He makes him hydrate and protein-ate, and he checks his stitched up hand.

I’m a shallow son of a bitch, but concerned Dean lit like this is A+ aesthetic.

Sam confesses that he’s not doing well --he can’t tell what’s reality anymore. As Dean tries to wrap his brain around what Sam is going through, we get a better glimpse of Lucifer’s fun torture time for Sam. After all, “You can’t torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away.”

Meanwhile, girl!Leviathan finds an episode of Dr. Sexy and decides she wants to be a doctor when she grows up.

Bobby checks in with Dean on how he’s holding up. (Caring Dad feels everywhere!) Dean deflects.

Bobby calls out Dean with, “You just lost one of the best friends you ever had, your brother’s in the bell jar, and Purgatory’s most wanted are surfing the sewer lines, but yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re – you're fine.” (Their little exchange of yoga and idjit, and their mutual little smiles is just beautiful. #bringbackbobby)

At Stockville High School, the swim team gets a surprise visit from a couple bloodthirsty purgatory monsters.

At Sioux Falls General Hospital, our very own Jody Mills is experiencing her own special kind of torture. While recovering from an appendicitis, she listens to her roommate drone on and on about dubious hospital practices. Dr. Sexy checks in with our favorite sheriff.

Back at Bobby’s, Sam caught the swim team case. Bobby and Sam convince Dean to check it out.

girl!Leviathan and Edgar (listen, I didn’t explain his entrance, but 6 years on, we know who I’m talking about) meet at a playground(!) and talk about the swim team attack. Apparently it was a bit unsightly, but the girl!Leviathan has an idea. Cut to the hospital. Dr. Sexy finds her and she makes quick work of turning into him. Kids grow up so fast these days.

At the high school, Agent Dean notices black goo and instantly knows what he’s dealing with.

Back at the hospital, Jody wakes to see Dr. Sexy secret off with her roommate. I think she’s starting to suspect her doctor is a monster.

She sets to checkout what fresh hell awaits her in her small hell-mouth town.

Dean checks in with Sam (and Lucifer) about the swim team. Goo? Check. Dean asks Sam how he’s doing. Aagh. Spoiler: He’s not doing ok.

Hopped up on gooooood pain meds, Jody continues to track her doctor, but when she sees him play a particular nasty game of Operation by eating her roommate’s liver, she runs, and faints in the hallway.

Jody wakes up in her hospital bed to the ministrations of her nurse. She sputters, starting to ask about Doctor Gaines, when he swans in, patting the corner of his mouth delicately. She quickly spins a lie about itching stitches and searching for a doctor to explain her presence in the hall. Doctor Sexy Leviathan leers at her. The moment they leave she rips out her IV and mutters “Kiss my ass, Doctor Monsterface.” Jody. Never change.

Meanwhile, Sam’s still trying to out-logic his hallucinations. If this is a dream, Lucifer should prove it by showing him the cage. Lucifer tells him that the Matrix only ends when Sam ends it...like ENDS it, ends it. Sam shouts at Lucifer to shut up, which really bolsters his narrative of doing fine when Bobby walks in. “You’ve beat the devil before, kid,” Bobby tells Sam. Lucifer, meanwhile, stabs Bobby in the chest. Not distracting at all.

Jody calls Bobby and tells him that her surgeon is a monster who ate another patient’s liver. “You and I killed zombies that one time,” she reminds him. He can help her. Bobby rolls out to help her leaving delicate flower Sam behind to man the phones.

At the hospital two swim team members and Edgar meet up with Doctor Gaines. Leviathan!Gaines gives them a tour of the facility. They can eat someone every day here since people die in hospitals all the time. The swim team members jump ship and become hospital staff, preparing to feast. Edgar moves on. He’s got other fish to fry.

Sam continues to clean guns when Dean pulls up. Dean grabs the open beer from Sam’s hand (DEAN) and fills Sam in on the status of the hunt. Dean demands Sam’s help while Bobby goes off to save Jody Mills.

Bobby wheels Jody out of the hospital and shuttles her away into a taxi. (After which, I am sad to report, we don’t see her for the whole rest of the episode.) Bobby then heads into the hospital to investigate the leviathreat level. He finds patients rushed immediately from botched minor surgeries to the autopsy table - a.k.a. lunch counter.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam drive to the hunt, Dean asking after Sam’s welfare. Dean suggests professional help even though, “You are never gonna be okay, Sam.” </heart breaks> Not the kind of BM scenes we like to watch, dudes.

While Sam’s having his heart ripped out in the Impala, the real Dean arrives back at Bobby’s, calling for Sam. Oh thank god. Dean Bean may be going through a long dark teatime of the soul but he’s not so dark that he’s hurting Sammy. Sam is, of course, gone.

Sam and “Dean” arrive at a corporate building where fake Dean scoffs at Sam’s ability to deal. “You think this is an office building, right?” he asks, leading Sam into a nearly empty warehouse instead.

Fake Dean chuckles, then turns into Lucifer. Lucifer tries to goad Sam into killing himself to end the hallucination (always, btw, the most horrifying part of the djinn narrative).

Back at the hospital, Bobby falls into a big pile of nope when he’s interrupted by Doctor Gaines. The leviathan immediately recognizes Bobby - he saw him through the angel’s eyes. (MY HEART) Bobby tries to shoot up the doctor but only explodes his head into recombining goo. It’s enough to let him escape.

The real Dean pulls up outside of the warehouse he tracked Sam to and opens the door. Lucifer turns into a second Dean and Sam immediately trains his gun on the real Dean.

Dean talks Sam down. He reminds Sam that he’s been to Hell. Torture feels different than the pain of the real world. He pulls up Sam’s hand and presses the wound hard. Lucifer begins to flicker. Sam pushes the wound hard enough to make it bleed. “You’ve gotta believe me,” Dean tells him. “You gotta make it stone number one and build on it, do you understand?” Sam nods, still reeling from the experience.

The phone rings. It’s Bobby. He fills them in on Doctor Gaines and the leviathan threat and the boys head back to Bobby’s lot. They’re gonna be okay… And then they get to Bobby’s house. It’s been torched. Nothing but burned books (CRETINS) and no sign of Bobby. They split up to search the junk yard. Dean dials Bobby’s “direct hotline you should not have this number” phone and leaves the following totally okay not at all unraveling voicemail:

“You can not be in that crater back there. I can’t-- If you’re gone, I swear I’m going to strap my beautiful mind brother into the car and I’m gonna drive us off the pier. You asked me how I was doing? Well NOT GOOD. You said you’d be here. Where are you?”

Dean Bean.

Sam and Dean call for Bobby in the junkyard. Sam finds Edgar and Dean shoots Edgar’s head full of lead (but it doesn’t last long for those shifty little guys). Dean drops a car on Edgar just after Sam gets knocked out by a tire iron. Dean’s got a broken leg, an unconscious brother, a dead best friend, and - you know - suicidal thoughts. So season 7 is starting out super great.

Dean calls an ambulance which takes the brothers to - you guessed it - Sioux Falls General. Extra bonus, Lucifer shows up for the ride.

Back at Bobby’s lot, Edgar recombines...

Mississippi Quotes, Won't You Keep on Shinin' on Me?

Why would the devil holodeck you a whole new life when he could just kick your ass all over the cage?

I keep my marbles in a locked friggin’ box.

What am I chopped brains on toast?

We’ve got a whole lot of NC17 Schizz-nickel right over there.

Having a little bag lady moment?

Bobby Singer. My hero.

This discussion does not require a weapon’s discharge.

It’s like a salad, but with pie!

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[walters-tampon-string]

Maxie: 1, 7, 9, 11

(Be prepared, I get in-depth with my faves lol…)1 (How Long Have You Known About Him): Admittedly, I hadn’t known him that well at first. I missed out on playing Ruby, Sapphire, and Emerald back in the day because I was really stupid as a kid and thought all the Pokemon games were the same for a while other than that the legendary was different (I was pretty young, okay) although I did see scenes with him in the RSE anime and I had a couple of Pokemon cards with his Pokemon and stuff. It kind of wasn’t until ORAS that the obsession started. The thing was, I never intended for it to happen. I got commissioned to write Hardenshipping smut by someone, so I was doing my research and looking up stuff and art and everything for those two… and… eventually… I kind of was just going because I genuinely enjoyed the characters. Then all of a sudden, bam obsession. Maxie quickly became one of my faves and I still enjoy him. When I finally got around to playing ORAS for real, I basically had all of his dialogue memorized and everything and knew when he would appear and would be hyped for it. :’D But long answer aside, I say I’ve known him for like… three years.7 (Moment of theirs that made you happiest): Now, this one is hard for me because I have a… tendency of liking to make fun of my faves and feed off their misery so like… a lot of the answers that sprung in my mind were kind of mean moments… LOL. But I guess if I were to answer a genuine, serious answer, I would say the scene where he comes in in ORAS. Idk. Something about this threatening old man who tries to be all diplomatic but has no qualms with making a kid cry is awesome to me. I also like the scene where you fight him at the volcano. Idk. He has a mannerism about him that I like. Reminds me kind of a very serious college professor. If I were to choose a mean answer… umm… hearing how nasally his RSE voice is SERIOUSLY, IT MAKES ME LAUGH SO HARD. I LOVE IT.9 (Favorite Outfit of Theirs): OHHHHHHH GOSH. WHY YOU GOT TO DO THIS TO ME. BECAUSE TBH, I REALLY DO LIKE BOTH DESIGNS OF HIM A LOT. Well, okay, let me say, the RSE design is a lot more practical given that well… he’s working in a volcano and shit and it looks a lot more comfortable… and I will admit, that coat is badass… but idk. It’s also very generic I guess? The ORAS design is a lot more… personality-filled and funny and colorful and shit (plus its easy to make fun of which is a plus for me) so I do like that. I also like glasses on any character really so that adds to it, even if his glasses are a little silly-looking with how big the blinder things are. Lol. Uhhhhhh… I guess I will go with the ORAS one just because when someone mentions ‘Maxie’ that is the first one that comes to mind so that probably means that is subconciously my favorite one but RSE is really close kay?11 (Favorite Relation They Have With a Character of Theirs): A little hard to say as Pokemon when it comes to characterization really relies on you to fill in the details yourself. I will say Archie, and not just cause Hardenshipping, but idk. I like the dynamic… especially with how ORAS filled it. Like, these guys were on the same team but then they get in a fight over who’s tree hugger argument is the best and then get in a fight… but the fight is never really malicious. There were plenty of opportunities for one or the other to use their grunts or something to capture them or hurt them… but that is really not the goal. They just want to prove who is right and shit like that, which is kinda cool. And I like how in the end, they were willing to make amends with each other and stuff rather than remain salty and everything like Giovanni or Ghestis. Even in SPE universe where Archie kills Maxie, their is an interesting dynamic because even tho the team separation thing puts a strain on their relationship, they still seem to be friends… with Maxie usually being the more openly-friendly one about it. Even when Archie got defeated and he was lamenting, he referred to Maxie as his friend which was just guh. Plus there is a lot of Hardenshipping subtext around in the games if you look but this answer thing is already long enough lmao so I’ll skip it. I will add tho that while we never really got to see Admin-Leader dynamics, I like to think that Tabitha and Courtney were so insanely loyal to their leader for a reason (as in they genuinely liked him). The same can go for Archie and his admins. The one thing I had always liked about Maxie and Archie was they never were really Bad Guys TM. They were just guys who wanted to improve the Earth and went too far. They are the only Pokemon villains so far who have repented (unless you count Lusamine’s vague thing with Lillie as repentance) which is p cool in my book so… Okay, I went wayyyyyy too long on all of this but this is what happens when you ask me about my faves. LOL.

[nezzfiction]

ENMY Chapter 49 - Happy Endings Are For Children

Chapter Synopsis: In the course of Team ENMY’s escape, they come across new trials. Yang must find a new way to harness her abilities. Emerald must master her Semblance’s true potential for the future fights with stronger foes. Her next one being just around the corner. Along with the key to saving Cinder.

Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy.

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Happy Endings Are For Children

.

“You think you know me.”

.

.

“The goal of this meditation is not to seek peace of mind. It is to contemplate, this one reminds you, while looking into your eternally struggling face.”

“…”

“You must search your soul for the answers you seek.”

“…”

The sound of a stream hitting snow could be heard.

“Focus on the question and the abstract.”

“…”

The stream of liquid became erratic, and almost closer.

“Shut out all distractions. Know only the search.”

“…”

“Almost there…” they heard Mercury grunt in the distance.

“Ignore the idiotic one that—”

“Mercury! Can you stop pissing so loud?! In fact, just hold it in! Hold it in, and DIE!!!” Emerald shrieked at the top of her lungs.

“Hey, Em. Didn’t see you guys there.”

In the middle of the snowy wilderness, Masa and Emerald were previously facing each other in meditation. Not too far away was Mercury taking a leak in the snow. And closer to the Hummer parked nearby, Neo was giving Yang a haircut.

“YANG! You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!”

“I’m not gonna watch him, while he takes care of his business!” she heard Yang yell back.

“Guys, I totally just finished writing my initials in the snow. Come, look!”

““JUST DIE!!!”” Emerald and Yang yelled simultaneously.

A chain sickle lashed out and almost took Mercury’s head, prompting the young delinquent to make a run for it.

When Emerald sat down again, she did so with a huff.

“Masa, I don’t think this new age, soul search, hipster bullshit is the way to go. I just want to talk to my Semblance like Yang does.”

“Being able to converse with one’s Semblance is an extremely rare trait. There is no clear indication of its requirements. It is also not the sole method of mastering your Semblance—as your exceptional, but juvenile partner has repeatedly demonstrated.”

“It’s not like Mercury’s Semblance is all that complicated. He kicks really hard and he flies. Big figure there.”

“Indeed, a simple soul. But just the same, there came a defining point in his life, his own very Semblance Trial, if you will. He met his challenge, found his answer, and ‘passed’. You must do the same, this one repeats for what may be the thousandth time.”

“I know, Maz! You keep telling me to look for an answer, but I can’t find one—no matter how long I sit my ass in this freezing weather.”

“An abundance of time and patience is required. Contemplation rarely provides a full answer. You must piece together the small hints you uncover.”

*Boop*

Emerald’s scroll received a message. When she opened the file, she sighed with annoyance.

“Merc just sent me a picture of his initials in the snow.”

“……It still astounds this one how your group displays such high functionality in its crucial moments, but the definition of discord elsewhere.”

“Yeah, we’re one small, screwy family that just loves to kill each other.”

“And Ms. Yang’s precarious inclusion in your band of misfits never fails to astonish.”

“Oh, Yang definitely exhibited like, low-level Stockholm syndrome when she first joined up. Now… eh,” Emerald shrugged.

“You are obsessed with mastering your Semblance for their sake.”

“More like, my own survival.”

“Lies,” Masa responded flatly. “This is why you may never master your Semblance Ms. Emerald,” the engineer saying much more dire.

“Hey, I know I can get it. I just need the right method. And nothing you say is making it any easier. The answer isn’t within me, it’s out there! And what the hell does lying have to do with my Semblance anyway? What the hell do you know about me?”

“You lie. You must discover and acknowledge the basis of your soul. That is what a Semblance is after all, this one lectures. But you continue to waste this one’s time with your endless falsities. You hide and you run because I believe you hate who you are. Or you are afraid of what dwells within your heart of hearts.”

“I’m not afraid of anything, and I don’t hate myself! I mean, have you met me?”

“You have referenced Ms. Yang and Mr. Mercury through the course of your training. But they have faced an increasing number of mortal trials to gain the abilities—the rite they possess to their Semblances. The same can be said for Ms. Neo. Possessing of a soul that constantly reviews itself, and seeks to shape, to learn their place in fate’s design. The trials they pass gives clarity into their identities.”

“I face trials all the time! I almost died!”

“And what have you gained from such an experience?”

“That I need to plan better, probably?”

“More sarcasm, more lies, more hiding.” Masa inched closer. “You deny who you are. You pass yourself as strong and detached, but you are nothing of the kind.”

“You don’t know shit about me or anyone else. Just because you stare all dead-eyed at everyone and creep them out, you think that gives you some sort of insight into their soul? I’m starting to wonder if you really know anything about Semblances.”

Masa stood up.

“Never has this one ever met an individual so adverse to their own self.”

“You will never master your Semblance. Nor do you deserve it!”

.

* * * * *

.

As Masa made her way back to the Hummer, she saw Yang drawing strength into her arm.

The prosthetic glowed with an old furnace of power. Its afterburners adjusted in propulsion at subtle angles, almost like a bird shifting its wings. Yang’s hair and scarf flared with bright embers.

She loosed a straight punch through the air, and sent all the snow in the vicinity flying.

“Are you kidding me?!” they heard Emerald shout in the distance.

“I think this one’s weaker than 2.0, isn’t it?” she questioned on Masa’s approach.

“The prosthetic is only a replacement until a true weapon can be forged. Also, this one asks what you hope to accomplish by burning what little Aura you possess.”

“I thought I could train its efficiency. There has to be some way to fight like I used to without relying on Dust or Bane.”

“A plight you would not face, had you followed the plan this one laid for you.”

“Hahaha…” Yang scratched the back of her head. “Sorry. I appreciate that you tried to help me keep the Valor Semblance.”

*Sigh* “No, my previous statement was unnecessary. You chose your own path, and for that, I have no word or sway in.”

“Aw, thanks for understanding, Masa.”

“But this one derives satisfaction in saying that this is your exact comeuppance for not following my predicted scenario. Also, there is no way to train your Aura in the way you imagine.”

“Guh...!”

“You cannot train how much blood flows through your body. You also, cannot train your body to produce more blood cells than it needs. Aura is similar to that. Which is exactly why Dust and Bane are such important catalysts. No one can fight capably on Aura alone.”

Under normal circumstances, that is.

“Great,” Yang hung her head. “So, what can I do? I’m just gonna be handicapped forever? Not gonna happen. There’s a way—I just haven’t thought of it yet.”

“Hmph. You could stand to administer your leader with a dose of that wisdom, this one ponders if such a syringe could be engineered.”

“Uh… Em’s Semblance training not going great?”

“……It is proceeding appallingly.”

“Ouch.”

“Hey, so, when are we gonna hit the road again?” Mercury asked, lying on the roof of the Hummer. “I mean, I don’t think any more goons are gonna chase us this far, but I can’t say the same about Vulcan and whatever he brings with him. Or are we staking our knife in the floor and finishing this?”

“I don’t know. Emerald and I figure he’s probably rejoined Mistral’s army by now, so we should be in the clear. Besides, we can’t drive any farther south-west than this.”

“Why’s that?”

“There’s this thing called the Bermuda Circle around here. Anything caught in it disappears without a trace.”

“What? That sounds so made-up.”

“Tell that to all the transports, airships, and people who go missing around here all the time. There’s rumors it could be a Nightmare-class Grimm, but no one really knows for sure. Normally, I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about, but with me and Em, like this? Not so smart, y’know?”

“Psh! Where’s your sense of reckless abandon, Xiao Long?”

“Maybe, some of it got knocked out when your cousin blindsided us with a lava hammer.”

“……Fair ‘nuff. Well, wake me up if shit hits the fan again, I’ll be napping.”

Yang made sure to toss a snowball on the roof, before turning to an approaching Neo. Apparently, the girl had gone off to hunt some food, after finishing her partner’s trim. A row of freshly caught fish and wildlife hung on a rope she dragged with her.

Dinner!

.

* * * * *

.

With the skies turning to dark, Team ENMY and Masa huddled around a campfire to eat their meals. In the circle surrounding the warm heat, Yang and Mercury looked shifty-eyed between their leader and the engineer.

“I wonder what happened between them,” Yang whispered.

“I dunno. Maybe they’re faking it?”

“What? Why would they be faking it?”

“You and Em were faking it that one time when you tricked Neo and me.”

“Gotta let that go, Merc. First of all, that was a life-or-death ruse. Second… they’re not. Something must’ve happened during training.”

“Or they’re on their—wait. No.”

“…. Their what?”

“Nothing. I just know that’s not it.”

…

“Were you about to say what I think you were about to say?”

“…Maybe.”

“Gross. MERC! Agh! Wait! What did you mean, when you said you knew that wasn’t it?”

“I don’t get it.”

“I mean, how do you know?”

“…… It’s not the right week.”

“Oh, god, Merc!”

“What?”

“You keep track of our…” Yang pressed her fist against her head. “You keep track of when we—”

“Yeah, well, I am the only guy here. Even I’m not dumb enough not to notice when some people’s moods change, or go to the bathroom more often.”

“Mercury. What. The. Hell!”

“Hey, look! I didn’t bring it up. YOU did. I was trying to pass it off, but no. Blondie wanted to ask if Mercury knew when… You guys know all kinds of shit about me!”

“We can hear you, nasty fuck,” Emerald said across the fire.

“Very audibly, this one adds,” Masa added.

Even Neo was making a face, that communicated Mercury was the scum of the earth.

“Okay! That’s not fair! We all know the weirdest and grossest crap about each other. Like, Em and I both know not to come home for the nights when Yang and Neo want some ‘alone time,’” he air quoted.

“This is not going to a good place,” Yang shook her head.

“Or how about when we act like we don’t know when Neo rips a fart, cause it’s always silent, but smells the most hellacious?”

Neo stared wide-eyed in distraught, then looked to Yang for confirmation.

“It is pretty smelly… Potent stuff for someone your size.”

“And you guys!” Mercury continued. “Know that I sniff and try on other people’s shoes when they’re not looking, cause reasons.”

“That is true. You got a weird thing for feet. I always wanted to know if it was before or after you lost your legs.”

“Before. We also know! Emerald mutters about Cinder in her sleep—and not the ‘I miss you’ forlorn kind of way. But the sensual voice thing! And it makes us all super uncomfortable.”

“……I don’t deny these allegations,” Emerald replied, while crossing her arms.

“And do you have anything to reveal of this one?” Masa spoke up.

“…There is that thing where you pretend the weapons talk to each other like a little kid playing with actions figures, when you think no one is looking.”

What little expression Masa showed on her face, froze with distinct abruptness.

“Maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“““YOU THINK?!?!””” Emerald, Yang, and Neo silently said.

“Anywho!” Mercury went into a big fake-ass yawn. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna go now. Sleep. Go sleep… Y’know. Early worm gets the bird, and all that.”

“That’s the excuse we use when we don’t want to get up early,” Yang answered.

“G’night!”

And Mercury was gone.

…

Left in awkward silence, Yang burst into laughter.

“That was an awesome train wreck! Ahaha…ha…man,” she wiped a tear from her eye.

Neo was headbutting her side repeatedly, seemingly anguished by her embarrassment.

“Oh, come here you. Me and Neo are gonna head to bed too.”

And with that, the pair left as well. Only Masa and Emerald alone by the fire. For a long time, nothing but the wood’s burning crackles filled the noise space.

“……To be fair, we actually thought it was kinda adorable, Maz—”

“Silence. This one pleads silence.”

“It’s like a little girl playing with her dolls, or talking to imaginary friends.”

“Enough.”

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as some other stuff.”

“This one is conflicted over which was better: knowing that you all knew, or never knowing that fact.”

“Yeah. Mercury has a way of bringing the shitstorm, in and out of a fight.”

“This one will remember to make his next maintenance check excessively excruciating. Penny, make note of it.”

[The note is made, Doctor.]

“Hey, look on the bright side, it got us talking again,” Emerald grinned. “We were wearing thin on each other’s nerves back there.”

The engineer went silent with momentary contemplation.

“………How much of that was contrived?”

“Caught on to that, have we?”

“Ms. Yang certainly escalated Mr. Mercury’s outburst quite well.”

“That, she did.”

“It was staged, then?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If Yang did it on purpose, I can proudly say she learned it all from me. If she didn’t, well… One of the things that blinds people to each other’s differences is a common source of annoyance.”

“Hm. Indeed. This one is beginning to believe Mr. Mercury was a mere scapegoat. Penny, make note to exact the same excruciating procedure for Ms. Yang.”

[Noted, Doctor.]

…

“So…” Emerald swirled around the water in her cup. “I wasn’t the only one who got all hot and angry when we were talking about Semblances. Did something happen with yours?”

“No,” Masa denied. “But I did remember a bitter story from a long time ago.”

“Huh.” Emerald tossed the water from her cup, and did the same with Masa’s. She then, took out a bottle of whiskey from behind the log she sat on, and poured a modest amount for the both of them. “Tell me about it.”

The barest of chuckles escaped the hollow-eyed engineer.

“You should count yourself fortunate, Ms. Emerald. Both you and I, and each of your friends.” She took a very generous sip, and felt a smoothness burn her throat. “Even if they are not mastered, there are some of those who go through life never once utilizing their Semblance—never unlocking even a clue of their soul’s potential.”

“…Didn’t know there was anyone like that. Guess, it puts things in a certain perspective.”

“Hm,” Masa nodded.

“I knew of one such individual…”

.

* * * * *

.

She was one of the most brilliant minds I had ever had the good fortune of meeting. One whom I respected from the depths of my heart.

…

Her life began in a noble household.

Alongside her brother, the girl grew up wanting for nothing. However, her parents did not spoil her. Too often had they seen what happened to children crippled by their family’s prestige and riches. In fact, for most of the sibling’s lives leading up to adulthood, they took the last names of lower vassal families.

They entered school normally, the girl earning especially good grades in athletics and stratagem. She was the textbook definition of a prodigy.

As they progressed through the Huntsmen and Huntress curriculum, the girl acquired an aptitude for a variety of different techniques. Her prowess for being able to use multiple types of weapons was unmatched. She earned the top marks in her combat assessments.

When entering intermediate grades, those who had yet to awaken their Auras had theirs unlocked. The siblings were no exception, and true to form, they both possessed an exceptional amount of Aura.

…

It is most common to discover your Semblance in one’s pubescent years. Along with a body, which develops at a sudden and rapid pace, so too does the soul inhabiting it. Semblances are a reflection, or they become what the wielder needs in a time of crisis.

While her fellow classmates, her peers that she once surpassed, even her own brother discovered their Semblances… my friend did not.

She was never too stubborn to seek help when she needed it. Her friends, her brother, she tried to find a way.

I was honored she asked me. In return, I did everything I could to find her an answer. How many sleepless nights we had pouring over every book in every library…

I’d do a hundred times over if that was what it took.

But alas, we never found a solution.

Surely, anyone would normally be crushed by such a fact.

A Semblance is more than just an ability. It is a person’s source of pride. Without it, it is something akin to an incompleteness.

The girl had many expectations bestowed upon her. She was predicted to be the greatest Huntress ever produced. Destined to live the life of a hero among heroes. A legend bred and trained from birth.

And then… nothing.

Hmph.

…

The doubts, the backtalk, the words whispered behind closed doors. Such things would normally break a person…

Not her.

She would not break.

Through some stubborn form of sheer will, she completed her graduation solely on her skills. It was a triumphant feat. She was granted the title of Huntress. And she knew joy from all her painstaking efforts.

But that happiness did not last.

As the missions she fulfilled grew in difficulty, the girl began to learn her limits. There were such Grimm, such warriors of a darker kind that wielded strength she could not compete with.

Many will say that was the start of her degradation. How far only her pure martial skill and Aura could take her. But I believe that wasn’t so.

She never gave in to her depression for too long. She wanted to make the best use of her talents. To serve her Kingdom to her fullest abilities.

Because of her famous intellect, and a little help from her brother, she gained a prestigious position. The girl, now a woman, had found her calling… She became the Headmaster of her alma mater.

And she truly was a brilliant educator. She raised students that would one day go on to save Remnant a hundred times over. She taught them not only how to survive the trials evil, but of life itself. I venture to think she saved more young lives that way, than she would ever had she become a “true” Huntress.

During that time, she met another kindred soul.

One she fell deeply in love with…

…

…

“Okay,” Emerald paused. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“This one is not quite sure by your meaning,” Masa replied.

“The story,” she repeated, and threw some snacks into her mouth. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“……How do you know that is not the end of the tale?”

“A feeling.”

Emerald crushed the bag and sucked the end of her fingers.

“That, and the fact that Haven’s Headmaster isn’t a woman or fits the bill… Is that the end of the story, Maz?”

“……No. But this one sometimes finds herself wishing it was.”

“Hmm,” Emerald sniffed bitterly.

“‘Happily ever after’s are for children.”

At that moment, Masa caught a glimpse. An image of a poor girl, dressed in rags, sitting on the cold, hard concrete. So many passerbys, strode and strode past, never sparing a glance at the abandoned creature. A sewer rat in their eyes.

One who told herself stories of faraway places and faraway names just to keep herself alive at night. They kept the bad things away. They kept her from falling into despair.

Masa blinked, and the image was gone. Only Emerald sat across from her. The illumination from the campfire casting flickering shadows.

The doctor closed her eyes…

…

…

Despite being the greatest Headmaster of her time, she did not receive her due recognition.

Beacon was long famed as the best academy in Remnant.  That tradition was only continued with its Headmaster. A prodigy. A legendary Huntsmen in his own right.

Ozpin…

They proclaimed him everything she was not—everything she failed to achieve.

Her flaws glared in the spotlight shone in comparison.

She didn’t take part in the greatest defenses against the most monstrous of Grimm.

She took a job teaching children, lecturing them on bad behavior, calling their parents.

That was what they said about her. Nothing in the fact she dedicated her gifts to the safety of their future.

To invest in the future, in knowledge itself. There is no more noble an aspiration.

But try to ask fools to see that…

Even then, it did not break her.

The woman carried on with her duty, did what she loved, what she believed in. Those who knew her knew. She was nothing flawed. She was a warrior. She was a Huntress. She was loved.

Her husband hated the way his wife was treated—to have the woman he cared for diminished by the sole fact of not having use of her Semblance.

I used to despise the man for thinking that way. I used to ask, why could he not simply be proud of his wife? That was all she needed. But thinking on it more, I could understand that he loved her so deeply, he couldn’t allow her poor treatment to continue.

It was an unfortunate sentiment, as time proved.

…

The woman’s husband was a brilliant scientist and avid researcher of the Grimm. He was marveled by the power the dark creatures wielded without using anything resembling a Semblance. He theorized it may have been due to their connection to the Never Realm…

And in that, tragedy was born.

He begged his wife to take part in his experiment. To find a way to grant her power unquestioned by anyone.

To that end, the woman had her body modified. A monstrosity born part-Grimm and part-human.

…

…

“And that is where the story ends, Ms. Emerald,” Masa said with a heavy voice. Sorrow dripping from her lips.

Emerald continued looking into the fire.

“What was her name?”

“……Victoria Stein.”

“I’ll remember her story.” Emerald got up from her seat. “Coming, Maz? It’s getting late.”

“In a little while, Ms. Emerald.”

…

“You didn’t fail her, Maz. I’m sorry for what I said before… Don’t stay out here too long.”

“In a little while, Ms. Emerald.

Just a little while.”

…

…

.

* * * * *

.

When Team ENMY and Masa woke the next day, they were met with an unbelievable sight.

“Uh… guys?” Yang blurted. “Am I still dreaming?”

Neo pinched her butt.

“Ow! Okay. I’m not dreaming. So, how long were we asleep?”

“Not that long, lion queen,” Emerald took in the sight beside her.

Contrary to the night before, the surrounding area was no longer covered in snow. In fact, from the lush greenery and the overgrown vegetation, one would never describe the current season as Winter. But the scenery before them refused to become a mirage.

Yang plucked a flower off the ground and looked at it. Such a small thing would die, much less grow around freezing temperatures.

“But…how? I mean, Em, haha real funny if this is a hallucination.”

“It isn’t, you idiot! Why would I hallucinate something so stupid?”

“Then, how is it already—”

Suddenly, the flower in Yang’s hand sparked with electricity. Not only that, but their surroundings were starting to take the appearance of a lightning storm. Pillars of surging energy began to erupt between ground and sky.

“OKAY! THIS IS OFFICIALLY ONE OF THE FREAKIEST THINGS EVER!!!” Emerald shouted. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

It was then, Emerald noticed Masa. While everyone was in a moment of confusion, the good doctor never so much as blinked. No matter how expressionless she was, there was no mistaking it. Masa had expected this very situation to unfold.

“Maz! What is this?!”

The engineer simply pointed to the distance. The team followed the line of her finger, to the silhouette in the distance.

A grotesque woman with parts of Grimm-like limbs attached, walked across the forest. From her back sprouted wings made of gears and what looked like weapons. Screws and bolts riddled her body from head to toe, and it seemed she was the primary cause of the lightning storm around her.

“That’s… her,” Emerald gave a hushed mutter. “She’s the one we’ve been looking for—the key to saving Cinder.”

…

…

“The Spring Maiden.”

      �ᖁ5�+