glory anna

(I literally had a moment, about two hours ago, where I was like, “the responsible thing to do would be shower and go to sleep, and write the cracky idea in the morning.” Thank god I’m not that mature yet.)



Keyleth hated this mission. The fact that she had self-assigned it did nothing to diminish her hatred. It just left her with only herself to blame.

“Stop pinching your lips like that. It blows your cover as an empty-headed chit.”

Oh, wait, there was definitely someone else to blame.

Keyleth tightened her grip on Ripley’s arm—Anna Ripley, international arms dealer, perennial pain in the Department’s ass, and just this once her partner—and wished Vex was here instead. But the Conclave had caught Vax on camera stealing the Whisper Codex, which meant they’d make Vex as well, and no one else knew Percy’s codes well enough to…coordinate if something went interestingly. (Or to communicate if he was too badly hurt. Or to counter him if—no, Keyleth didn’t believe Raishan’s bullshit message for a second. Percy would never betray them. She just prayed the Deceiver and her cronies hadn’t done anything too horrible to him when they found that out.)

Unfortunately, there was one other person who knew Percy that well, and this was a two-man job. Or two-woman, as the case may be.

They reached the hotel door before Keyleth was ready. Ripley just extended one cool hand to the doorman, with a heavily embossed invitation.

“Dr. Anna Ripley, and guest.” A smirk played on her lips like she knew a joke he didn’t get. Keyleth held still, and tried to smile at him.

The guard scanned the invitation with his phone, waiting until it beeped a confirmation to look back up at them. Keyleth didn’t let herself relax an inch—falsifying the invite had definitely been the easy part of the job.

“I’m afraid I need to get your guest’s name, ma’am,” he said. He was dressed like he worked for the Palazzo he stood in front of, but a discreet five-colored pin on his collar announced the hosts of the party within.

“This is my assistant, Kiki Dawson.” Ripley spoke before Keyleth could open her mouth, and pulled their twined arms a little closer, as if to claim her.

Keyleth smiled at the guard, trying to make her expression fit her dress. It was a low-cut, sleeveless, lime green thing, meant to draw attention to her curving figure and the tattoos swirling over her dark skin. Normally those were just for her, but tonight they had to be part of the costume.

The guard waved them in with only the hint of a lecherous smirk. As soon as they were through the doors), out of sight, Keyleth aimed a heel at her “partner’s” foot. Ripley pulled away just in time.

“Whatever happened to us both being incognito?” Keyleth hissed.

Ripley kept towing her across the lobby, speaking softly but without a hint of doubt. “Wouldn’t have worked. I’ve dealt with the Conclave before, and they don’t like me much. Umbrasyl probably remembers my face, and Raishan certainly does.”

“Then how did we just walk into her party?”

Again, that goddamn smirk. “I phoned ahead and offered to sell her my new missile shield.”

Cabal’s Ruin? Keyleth wanted to say, just to prove that they had broken her security enough to know—but it was too late. They were already at the ballroom doors, and thank god it wasn’t like a ball in fairy tales, where they would be announced at the door, or Keyleth would just about have died.

It was awful enough. There were so many people, milling around in clothing that cost enough to feed a small country, and Keyleth recognized enough of them at a glance to know that they had probably collectively starved several small countries, or would within the year, and wouldn’t care. They were all drinking champagne and making small talk, and around them were a dozen glittering chandeliers and enough gold to bankrupt another, medium-sized country. Not, Keyleth knew, Raishan’s taste—fuck, did that mean Thordak was here, too?

Then again, they did have quite a prize in the vaults below.

She didn’t need Ripley’s nudge to trip against the first waiter she saw, and spill champagne down her very cloth-free front. It was barely even an act.

“Honestly, dear,” said Ripley, sounding more like an irritated schoolmarm than someone who would ever call someone else ‘dear.’ “Do you have the faintest sense of the dignity of an occasion?”

“I am so sorry, ma’ams,” said the waiter. He pointed back towards the lobby door, his own shirt stained gold as well. “There’s a bathroom right out there and to the right, if you need it. Please, let me get you a finer drink as an apology. A rosé? Or we have a fine old Chanteau, put down in 1927.”

“Thank you,” Keyleth said before Ripley could say something snide.

Ripley saved it until they were back in the hallway. “Well, they certainly know we’re here, now.”

“Like we needed them to,” Keyleth snapped back. “Or did you want them wondering why you appeared at the front door and never in the party?”

Ripley just rolled her eyes, and took the lead as they walked—not crept; never look like you don’t want to be caught—down the opulent hallway.

“If you didn’t want to come,” Keyleth hissed, hopping a step to keep up with her, “you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to let someone else kill—quiet.” Ripley caught her by the arm and pulled her flat against the wall just before a T-intersection.

Keyleth fumbled a compact mirror, very quietly, from her pocket, and angled it stealthily at her side. She caught a glimpse of the same uniform the guard at the door wore—black; Security. Two of them were coming down the intersecting hall.

There wasn’t enough cover here, and they had gone in the opposite direction as the bathrooms. Keyleth glanced at her “partner.”

Ripley already had a pistol in her hand, from where, Keyleth didn’t know. How, she didn’t know. There had been an X-ray weapons scanner carefully concealed in the front door. Keyleth only had a couple shocks stored up in her tazer-bracelets.

Keyleth tugged Ripley’s arm to get her attention, and pointed at the gun. Too much, she mouthed silently.

Silencer, Ripley mouthed back, raising one eyebrow like she was genuinely surprised Keyleth was this stupid.

Bodies, Keyleth replied, because I don’t want to kill random guards just because they get a half-decent paycheck here would be ignored, and was too long, and probably wouldn’t work out anyway.

Then she gave up and, as Security’s footsteps approached, pushed herself over Ripley’s front (hiding the gun) and kissed her on the lips.

She caught the older woman by surprise. Ripley’s mouth was open to retort something else.  Keyleth leaned into it with what she hoped was a convincing moan. Her fists bunched in the fabric of Ripley’s dress—much more modest than her own, but it felt just like it looked, like fabric made of midnight.

Ripley’s arms came up around Keyleth’s shoulders and there were two soft thumps behind her. One of the gods stopped halfway through clearing their throat.

Keyleth pulled away, wiping her mouth, and looked behind her. Both guards were on the ground, a woman with a neat hole in her head and a man gurgling and choking as blood spilled out of his throat. He was trying to reach for the radio on his hip, but his arm twitched uncontrollably.

Ripley stepped around Keyleth and him a second time, a would to match his partner’s. Her gun was perfectly silent.

That wasn’t necessary.” Keyleth felt the bile rising in her throat, and the tears in her eyes, and hated them both. Hated field missions in general and this one in particular, hated every reason that she had to be on it, and hated that she couldn’t handle any of it.

“You are utterly naïve,” Ripley sneered. She peered around the corner for more guards, gun still in her hand. Her carefully coifed bun was mussed from where Keyleth had pushed her against the wall. “The elevator shaft is this way.”

“You—”

Before Keyleth could finish her insult, the supposedly solid ground shook beneath their feet. Of course, both women knew full-well there was a complete Chroma Conclave facility beneath this building.

It shook again, harder this time, as if the source was moving closer to the surface. A little more to the south, though. There was the faintest echo of an explosion.

“Percival,” Ripley said with a snake-like smile, as Keyleth breathed a relieved, “Percy.”

They both took off running down the hall.

8

Favorite Reads Of 2014: Some of these made me smile, some caused ugly sobbing, some I just could. not. put. down. For the full reading list, click here.

Do you have BeChloe feels? Watch this (feels boosting) video if you dare 😏😉 I don’t know if you will get the BeChloe story behind this. Anyway, the ending (I tried) and the major mistakes though haha sorry about that I hope you don’t mind. Late upload. I’m gonna make another one if Pitch Perfect 2′s HD/DVD version is out. I HOPE I WILL BOOST YOUR BECHLOE FEELS MWHAHAHAHAH

P.S: If you think the video is lagging in some parts of the video well it’s not lag, it’s an slow motion effect to make the video more natural :D

Song is: I Don’t Wanna Know - New Found Glory

All rights belongs to Universal Studios, Gold Circle Entertainment, New Found Glory, and Geffen Records


Feel free to like and reblog this to your BeChloe/Sendrick shipper friends or non BeChloe/Sendrick shipper friends who knows they might ship it too based on this video 😉

anonymous asked:

Unpopular opinion: Anna is one of the most flawed, strong, and complex characters to come out of the Frozen and we should all accept her as our lord and savior.

Absolutely agree.  Anna is such a strong character and i think that it’s important that we take time to think about that, especially since elsa always gets so mu- ALL GLORY TO PRINCESS ANNA