#is that the game genuinely thinks 'going outside to apparently look in through the windows' is what Sims need to do to 'attend' the wedding

[aventurineswife]

Kafka, Silver Wolf, Blade and Jingliu with Reader who cooks as bad as Yor Forger? 🤣 (Could be platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat.)

Like Reader’s cooking is so bad it makes the actual in-game food item Sugarball Fried Viscorpi look normal in comparison, and even the most hardened criminal would balk and flee the moment Reader lifts the plate cover. A cycrane could be passing overhead and as soon as it catches a whiff, it just drops dead to ground with smoke rising from it. A devout follower of Lan might start praying to Yaoshi for a strong enough stomach to survive a bite, maybe a few bites if luck is on their side. That’s how bad Reader’s cooking is. It should be impossible for one person to be so terrible at cooking, yet Reader pulls it off without even meaning to, with desperate attempts to avoid it being terrible.

I just think it’s funny for characters that are meant to be super serious or “tough/cool” have that exterior suddenly shatter/freeze up when faced with something that is so awful and yet very much mundane. 😂

“When Love Cooks... but the Kitchen Revolts”

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Blade x Reader, Jingliu x Reader, Humor, Fluff, Cooking Disaster, Slice of Life, Mild Chaos, Romantic Undertones but can be read Platonically, Lighthearted, Crack Fic.

Warnings: Slightly chaotic food descriptions, humor involving exaggerated reactions to food (no real harm intended), mentions of inedible meals.

A/N: was laughing when reading this req🤭, don't let this reader meet Solomon and Raphael 💀

Kafka was rarely fazed. A Stellaron Hunter who could manipulate the minds of the toughest soldiers and bring entire armies to their knees with her charm and cunning—what could truly unsettle someone like her?

Apparently, your cooking.

“I appreciate the effort, darling,” Kafka purred, her tone masking the visible hesitation in her movements. Her hair fell over one shoulder as she peered down at the steaming… dish? It was hard to describe what lay before her, even for someone as eloquent as Kafka. The consistency was gelatinous, the smell pungent enough to make the station's security drones glitch and crash into a nearby wall.

You watched nervously as she poked the food with her fork. It wobbled menacingly.

“I followed the recipe to the letter this time!” you exclaimed, your hands wringing a dishcloth. “I even double-checked the measurements.”

Kafka gave you a patient smile, though there was a flicker of genuine fear in her eyes. She tentatively lifted the fork to her lips, her composure rivaling that of a woman walking into certain death.

The taste hit her like a warpstorm.

The fork clattered to her plate, and for the first time, you saw Kafka’s facade crack. Her lips twitched as she forced a smile that was as strained as the vocal chords of a cycrane caught mid-squawk. A bead of sweat slid down her temple.

“Exquisite,” she said, voice a touch too high. “Truly a flavor I’ve never experienced before.”

Outside the window, a passing cycrane plummeted from the sky, smoke trailing from its feathers. You gasped, and Kafka seized the opportunity.

“Darling,” she said, standing abruptly and pulling you close to her side, “why don’t we step outside? Some fresh air might do us good.”

“But you haven’t even finished—”

“No need!” she interrupted quickly, her polished calm returning. “I’m already full. Full of… new memories.”

As the two of you stepped outside, the dish quietly bubbled on the table, sending faint tremors through the floor.

Silver Wolf was sprawled across your couch, console in hand, her fingers flying over the buttons as she annihilated yet another level. She barely glanced up when you called her to the table.

“Hold up, just one more boss fight!” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence.

“Silver Wolf, it’s going to get cold!” you called back, proud of your latest attempt at dinner.

With a dramatic sigh, she finally paused her game and wandered over. “Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She froze mid-step when she saw the plate. Her usual smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief. The dish in front of her looked… pixelated. Somehow, you had cooked something that appeared to have graphical glitches. A faint buzzing sound emanated from it, and a small spark leapt from one corner of the plate.

“Uh…” she began, stepping back cautiously. “Did you… download this food? Is this some kind of DLC?”

“No, it’s homemade! I swear, I followed all the steps this time.”

Silver Wolf adjusted her purple glasses, leaning in like she was analyzing enemy data. “It’s moving...” she whispered.

“It’s probably just steam.”

“It has a health bar...” she countered, pointing at the faint glowing bar hovering above the plate.

You crossed your arms. “Don’t be dramatic.”

Before she could respond, a stray kitchen cycrane beeped as it flew overhead, caught a whiff of the food, and promptly crashed through the window. Silver Wolf stared at the wreckage, then back at you.

“…Yeah, I’m ordering pizza.”

Blade had faced mara, untold pain, and the horrors of his immortal existence. Nothing could break him—or so he thought.

“Dinner is ready!” you called cheerfully, setting a plate in front of him. He glanced at it, his eyes narrowing slightly. The dish emitted a faint purple mist, and there was a distinct hiss as it touched the table.

“Is it… safe?” he asked, his tone flat.

“Of course! I made sure it was cooked all the way through this time.” you said, smiling.

Blade lifted his fork, gripping it with the same resolve he used to wield his broken sword. He took a small bite, and for a brief moment, you thought he’d handle it.

But then his usually impassive face twisted. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he slowly placed the fork down and stared at you.

“This… is a weapon.” he said finally.

You frowned. “You don’t like it?”

He shook his head. “No, I mean it’s literally a weapon. Whatever this is… it could end battles. Entire wars.”

Outside, a devout follower of Lan walking by your home dropped to their knees and began praying fervently. Blade sighed, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Next time, let me cook.”

[Header credits]

Jingliu was a woman of discipline and focus. Even as she descended into the madness of mara, she maintained an iron grip on her composure. That composure was now being tested.

She stared at the dish before her, her eyes narrowing. “This… is your cooking?”

“Yes!” you said, grinning nervously. “I thought you might enjoy something homemade for a change.”

Jingliu reached for her chopsticks, her movements slow and deliberate. The air around her grew colder as if her body instinctively activated her Path of the Destruction abilities in self-defense. She picked up a piece of… something. It sizzled ominously in the open air.

“Perhaps…” she murmured, her voice low, “this is a test of endurance.”

She took a bite. The room fell silent.

Moments later, a faint cracking sound echoed through the house. You realized it was the sound of her chopsticks shattering under the force of her grip. Her usually calm expression flickered, a subtle twitch betraying her inner turmoil.

“It is… unique,” she said, her voice tight. “You have… a talent.”

Before you could respond, a faint thud came from outside. Looking out the window, you saw a stray cycrane lying on the ground, wisps of smoke curling from its beak.

Jingliu stood abruptly. “I must meditate on this experience. Alone.”

As she disappeared into the night, you sighed, looking at the uneaten plate. “Maybe I should take a cooking class.”

[victorluvsalice]

Welcome -- to the Not-So-Micro Wedding Chapel! :D This is my own personal update of the "Micro Wedding" lot by TrimbleTwist on the Gallery -- that lot is a cute little chapel built to be placed on one of the smallest lots in the game (the 20x15 lot size), but as I plopped this one down in place of the rather larger rental lot in the Bramblewood in Henford-On-Bagley, I decided I could expand it out a little bit. :p Specifically, I made the outdoor patio reception area a lot bigger, adding in a proper buffet table and a fancier table for the cake, more tables for guests to sit at (with color schemes at least somewhat appropriate for a Van Alton wedding -- gotta have our black, yellow, and purple!), a dance floor, a fancier piano (that's actually the one you normally unlock through completing the "Musician" branch of the Entertainer career), a few more plants edging the whole thing, and a "photo op" area with backdrop and tripod (keep that in mind for later). I also updated the lot traits -- I kept Natural Light, as that went well with the photo area, but Homey became Romantic Aura and Great Acoustics to Party Place as I felt those better suited a wedding venue specifically. I mean, you're not coming here to do anything but have a wedding party, right? I didn't actually do much to the chapel itself, though, beyond recoloring the wedding arch inside, adding a few more lights to the interior --

And adding the True Colors Pride Flags by @itsonlythee-sims to the outside! This is an edit of a flag mesh from Discover University made base game compatible that features a bunch of pride flag variations (plus one Simlish BLM flag), and one of the ones included is a polyamory flag (the classic blue-black-red stripes with a yellow infinity heart). Given that what I was hosting was a polyam wedding, I had to stick that out there -- along with the "Progress" pride flag, as that felt like it covered most things queer. :) So yes, this was the lovely venue that Victor, Alice, and Smiler arrived at to have their big wedding event! I promptly sent them downstairs into the tiny basement to use its kitchen to make the wedding cake (a white and black cake, because fancy) as a group, as I thought that would be sweet --

And -- okay. Let's just get this bit out of the way now -- it took me three tries to get the wedding to go off the way I wanted it to. First time, they wouldn't even start making the cake -- there was just a lot of that Sim "okay, let's just stand around because something is stopping our AI from actually completing a queued task" bullshit that we all know and "love." Second time, they actually got through the cake and got to the ceremonies -- but while I got some halfway decent shots of Victor and Alice's vow renewal, Alice actually walked out of Victor and Smiler's wedding because for some reason the game decided that "attending the wedding" meant she had to go OUTSIDE, and that and an ill-timed "hey, should Alice officially Like Photography" pop-up meant that I missed capturing most of their ceremony both in in-game pictures and screenshots. *sigh* It's really fortunate that I saved the minute the trio stepped onto the lot, because otherwise...

All right, let's not worry about that anymore -- let's talk about the third attempt, which was indeed the charm, I'm happy to report! (Mostly because I'd learned from the mistakes of the previous two attempts.) As indicated, I sent the trio downstairs to work on the wedding cake together (Alice leading the group action because she has the most points in Cooking), and happily with me having already gotten all the items that could possibly restrict a Sim from helping off the counters, the trio WERE able to collaborate properly on their cake. And get real fancy about it too, as you can see :) Between getting them down there and actually starting off the process, though, the guests started arriving before they were actually done -- said guests being Clement Frost, Angela and Lilith Pleasant, Nalani Mahi'ai, Felipe Sisson, Rory Oaklow, and Angela and Lilith Pleasant! AKA all of Smiler's friends that Victor and Alice also know and are friendly with. XD The guests began filtering downstairs in search of their hosts as the cake was completed -- I quickly had Alice stick the wedding topper on it so no one could sneak an early piece, then let her get in a bathroom break as Victor used magic to fix the busted fridge (I dunno why getting cake ingredients out of it broke it, but it did) and Smiler sucked down a plasma fruit to prevent any Thirst issues. I then turned autonomy off temporarily to stop at least my own Sims from doing too many "forbidden activities," changed my trio into their wedding outfits, added as many guests to their group as I could, and marched them all upstairs to sit in the wedding chapel so at least a few of the guests would be in position to actually watch the ceremonies. And then it was just a matter of getting Victor and Alice into position at the altar, and Smiler into position (with Alice's super-nice camera in their inventory) to act as cameraperson...

[katatonicimpression]

Hi, friend!!

🦅 or 👽 for the SamBucky prompt game please 🙏🏾

Sambucky Prompt Game!

Thanks for the ask! I combined the two lol

“This is why we should never go on separate missions.”

Sam frowned. 

“What do you mean? I see this as a win.”

“Sam, that thing is reading your mind right now and you don’t have a single issue with it?”

Sam looked at the bird perched on his arm and back up at Bucky. 

“No?”

Bucky glared at him.

“It’s a mutual thing,” Sam said. “I can read him too. We’re connected, I don’t know how to explain it better than that.”

“Sam.” Bucky sat down on the coffee table opposite the couch. He put his hands together. “You go off on this mission to outer space-”

“Which went well, by the way. We won.”

“You go to space, and you come back with a bird that’s apparently your soulmate and you don’t think that’s worrying?”

“He’s called Redwing,” Sam said, petulantly.

“Seriously?”

“You like that, don’t you?” Sam asked the bird. 

The bird agreed, he did like it, and yeah it was weird that this thought was just beamed into Sam’s head through some kind of telepathy, but he was starting to get used to it. 

It had been a weird week and a half since meeting Redwing, but Banner and Strange and Richards and seemingly anyone off the street with an opinion had looked into it, and everything seemed fine and above board. Redwing wasn’t dangerous. This bond between them was weird, but genuine. They could read each other’s thoughts.

So, Sam took Redwing home to his and Bucky’s apartment in Harlem, and then his boyfriend came home from a mission, and started all of that fuss all over again.

“How do we know it’s not influencing you in some way? How do you know it’s safe?”

“I just do,” Sam was aware this wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s like I’ve known him my whole life.”

He reached up and petted Redwing’s head.

“Do you really have to be cuddling right now?”

“Cuddling? He’s perching!”

“You’re in our spot!”

“Our what?” Sam laughed. “Buck, are you seriously jealous of a falcon right now?”

“He’s not even really a falcon! He’s probably some kind of alien!”

“Well, yeah, he’s from space.” Sam paused, then shrugged. “From his perspective, you’re an alien.”

Bucky let out some gravelly noise of frustration that was clearly not supposed to be as funny as it sounded, and stormed out the living room.

“Between you and me,” Sam said to Redwing. “I think he is jealous.”

“I heard that!”

Sam sighed, and stood up. He walked over to the window and opened it. 

“Give us a minute,” he told Redwing, who agreed and flew outside.

Bucky, who clearly never made it more than three feet out the door in the first place, stepped back into the room. He slouched towards the sofa and sat down. Sam joined him, swinging his legs over Bucky’s lap, perching on him.

“Ok, yeah,” he said, his words muffled into Bucky’s shoulder. “This is our spot.”

“Damn right.” Bucky caved, putting his arm around Sam and pulling him into a hug. He added. “I’m not jealous.”

“You absolutely are.”

“It’s not jealousy. He’s just a bird. I could take him.”

“Oh my god…” Sam laughed. Then pulled Bucky back towards him when he tried to move away in annoyance.

He wasn’t trying that hard, evidently, because he let him.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Bucky said. “From the mission, I’m glad it went well.”

“Thanks,” Sam said. 

They sat for a second in silence.

“You wanna order?” Sam asked.

“I could eat.” Bucky squeezed him gently. “But I don’t want to move.”

“That’s cool.” Sam concentrated, and reached out mentally. “Redwing, can you get my phone?”

“It’s just going to be like this now, isn’t it?” Bucky groaned.

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Vapors 82

“Not now.” Aiko pushed her nose further into her pillow and tightened her grip around Mitsuo with her right arm. Funny. He was shaped differently than she remembered—less round. And significantly less furry than usual.

Blearily, she raised her head just enough to see dark hair and remind herself that she hadn’t fallen asleep snuggling her dog.

“Oh. Good morning, Sai.”

Her fingers had been outside the blanket and were cold, so she wiggled them under the covers to flatten against his abs. Sai was too disciplined to jolt or complain about being used for his hot body, so she didn’t feel guilty at all.

“May I be released?” Sai sounded surprisingly detached and polite for someone being treated like the world’s tallest teddy bear. “I am under orders to report to the Hokage’s office for an assignment.”

Aiko frowned at that, trying to remember if she was meant to report. She couldn’t think of any call… so that meant he was going on a mission without her. Unusual. “What time?”

He seemed to be attempting to check the time through the mostly covered window. “In twenty minutes, I believe.”

She paused. “Are you already packed for your mission?”

“Yes, but the equipment is at my residence.”

Ten more ninja points to Sai. God, he was good at this game, wasn’t he? He should have been a boy scout. He and Yamato could flit about and be impossibly anal and good-natured, saving puppies from trees and carrying old ladies’ groceries.

‘Maybe I’m a little tireder than I thought. Something was definitely wrong with that phrase.’

“Aiko?”

“If you think you’re escaping without a good morning kiss, you are severely mistaken.” Jokingly, she pressed a kiss against the back of his neck and nuzzled him.

Sai gave a good natured sigh and twisted around to give her a flat look.

She giggled and released him. “Alright, alright. You know you’re going to be late anyways. Just tell the Hokage you’re sorry.”

“I apologize for my tardiness, Hokage-sama.” The little twerp gave her one of those patently false grins. The knuckles in Sasuke’s hand creaked ominously when he unconsciously formed a fist. “I was detained by a fair maiden.”

“My god, it’s catching,” Shizune breathed lowly, eyes wide with horrified fascination.

Naruto was practically vibrating with rage. “Not you too,” he growled, grabbing Sai’s collar and yanking on it. Sai merely blinked at him.

“My apologies. I-”

‘This has gone on long enough.’

“I don’t want any of your excuses,” Tsunade interrupted. For the first time, she genuinely rued handing the boy over to Hatake’s team. What the hell was it about that man that inspired devotion and imitation?

She tabled the thought for later.

“And Mr. Ukki needs to be watered every other day, but the begonias can go a week without. They like to be rotated every other day, though, so that they get sunshine everywhere.”

Aiko nodded along and tried to look attentive, even as Naruto detailed how often his mail needed to be picked up to prevent the post office from sending him nasty missives about his full box. Every other day, apparently. He wrote a lot of letters.

“Look, how long are you guys really expecting to be gone?” She raised an eyebrow inquisitively, but Naruto didn’t get the hint.

“I have no idea!” He chirped cheerfully, flashing a toothy grin. “But I bet it’s going to be awesome! I told you we were working with Asuma’s team, right? He’s a wind type too and he agreed to give me some pointers.” He gave a fist-pump. “I’m going to get that wind-natured Rasengan.”

‘Well, whatever works.’

She wasn’t particularly broken up about not being brought along on this mission in specific, though the timing stank. Yamato and Sai could take care of the boys, even if team Ten wasn’t there to pick up the slack. How much trouble could they really get into in a temple, for kami’s sake?

“You do that.” Absentmindedly, she tousled his hair (and was a bit miffed that she had to reach so far up to do it. If he didn’t stop growing she was going to put bricks on his head to stop that shit herself) and grinned at the indignant yowl the action drew out.

“Cut that out, Nee-chan,” Naruto whined, ruffling his hair back up into the ragtag arrangement of spikes that he seemed to favor. Personally, it looked utterly without law or order to her, but it wasn’t her hair. He gave her a surprisingly stern look. “If you ever want to be awesome like me, you’ll have to at least get the original Rasengan down, or you’ll never catch up before I make it even better. Even the pervy sage has the first level.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aiko muttered resentfully, pursing her lips and looking away.

‘Even the pervy sage? He has a twisted way of gauging competency. Proficiency with the Rasengan is hardly the only measure of strength.’

“I mean it.” He slung an arm over her shoulders and steered her out of the post office, his free hand gesturing animatedly even though it was full of envelopes. “You can’t give up just because the second part is harder! Even though that’s so weird, because once I had the first part down, the second really wasn’t that big of a deal and I don’t understand why you’re having so much trouble-”

“Okay, okay,” she interrupted. “Feel free to stop insulting me at any time.”

She probably did know why she had gotten stuck on that stupid purple rubber ball she was beginning to hate. This was hardly her first rodeo in regards to free-form movement of water: so as soon as she’d gotten past the barriers of problems created by maintaining multiple currents without letting them bleed into one another, the water balloon had been easy enough to burst. Cockily, she had thought that the second practice aid would be similarly easy, assuming that she was just that good.

Apparently, air currents were very different to manipulate. Moving air in general was hard. Grasping the damn particles was a massive pain, and forcing them to move according to her will sucked. She could make one current, but as soon as she tried to maintain more than that everything fell apart. Using air as a medium wasn’t as intuitive as using water as a medium.

Hopefully she wouldn’t have such a hard time when it came to using raw chakra and no medium, even if it apparently handled more like air than like water.

As soon as Naruto had gone, she flitted off to run through her self-assigned route. She’d had it on her mind throughout their conversation: apparently, she had been sleeping too deeply to wake up at her alarm, and her brother had come to find her immediately after his briefing to ask her to take care of the house while he was gone. So she had been almost two hours late to run her circuit.

‘It was dumb to stress. Nothing happened, of course.’

Konoha’s northern forests were just as peaceful and free of enemy nin as they could generally be expected to be.

Of course, that left her not knowing what to do with herself. It was bizarre to be stuck in Konoha when almost everyone she spent time with was out on a mission or working. Karin was in the hospital, Ino and Hinata were probably training, and Anko was nowhere to be found. ‘I suppose I could hunt down Kakashi and see if he wants to eat ice cream and talk about boys.’

Involuntarily, she snorted. Probably not, though it was incredibly poor timing for every girl she was remotely close to to be out of town. She’d have to wait for Karin to get back in from wherever she was. Well. She supposed she could talk to Anko, but that was bound to end in tears and humiliation. The older girl was hilarious, but maybe not the person she wanted to gossip about her first sexual experience with. Ino or Karin would find it much easier to relate to her current experiences on the same level, and Anko wasn’t maternal enough to be able to empathize with her throughout the barrier of their lack of shared experiences.

‘So instead of anything remotely enjoyable and useful, I will instead go to that awful meeting.’

She slumped, not caring that she was walking down one of the main streets and she probably looked like a lunatic about to break out into tears. It had been outright cruel of Tsunade to keep from assigning her to a mission just so that she was in town for one of those council meetings, even if it had been couched as a favor. She’d never thought she’d end up with the inverse of a sinecure. It was thankless and idiotic and took up far too much time.

Aiko probably spent far too much time moping over the fact that she had to go to that stupid meeting. That meant she had to rush through preparations to be fit for public. She had replaced the first mesh bodysuit with one that followed more closely to the design of a swimsuit than the weird things with half-legs and half-sleeves, and preferred it immensely. It didn’t weigh down her limbs but still provided protection to the majority of her vital points. The only weapon weighing her down was the single Hiraishin kunai she carried strapped to the underside of her right arm. It did mean that she had to be careful with how she held her arm to keep it from showing, but it was better than going totally without conventional weapons. She was never unarmed by any means, but sometimes steel could do what fists, seals, or ninjutsu just couldn’t. As had become tradition, she slipped on a kimono (orange this time) and the blue butterfly pin before she hurried out the door at the most dignified trot she could manage.

She spoke her piece early: advocating for a re-design of the genin corps, and then sat while the other suggestions were volleyed. Some of them seemed to completely miss the point to her. What good would encouraging more shinobi to settle down to reproduce early do? Trying to persuade more civilians to send their children to the Academy was a little closer, but still wouldn’t get at the real problems.

On the bright side, there did seem to be a chance that she could make a positive change in Konoha through her assignment. By whose standards that chance might be positive varied, however. Probably not by those of the grumpy old men and women who were her peers in the Council.

At this point she wouldn’t deny that the large council had been right to notice that the current graduation rates weren’t putting the village on track to regain full military strength. They had been experiencing a time of comparative peace for long enough that they really should have been in the full bloom of power for the last couple of years. But they weren’t. Konoha was hardly about to lose their position as one of the five strongest villages, but their large numbers and economic prosperity hadn’t lead to a proportional increase in sheer power.

Sarutobi hadn’t been an incompetent peacetime leader, though he had been better in a time of war. (As far as she could tell, he had been better at warfare but preferred a soft touch). He had altered the graduation and academy requirements after political affairs had settled down between the time of Uchiha Itachi’s enrollment and her own. In wartime, the philosophy had been to churn out as many moderately competent soldiers as possible as quickly as possible, which made it easier for children who had already been trained by family members to meet minimum requirements and test out of the system.

That system had many drawbacks, but the one that mattered to the Council was that it was a short-term stopgap measure. Those unprepared soldiers (who had less mental conditioning, less maturity, less everything that mattered) burnt out faster than their counterparts, cracked under stress and were unable to acclimate to other conditions, or got killed and were totally lost as resources.

Those truths were the ones Sarutobi had used to alter the Academy curriculum and requirements. It became much more difficult to graduate after that, and she didn’t see a single example of a student who spent less than four years in the Academy in the last ten years. It was a stark change from the prior situation, and one that she could appreciate.

But it wasn’t perfect either. Though even the dead-last by the new graduation standards was ahead of the curve for the old requirements, the few elites that the system hoped to nurture had a lot riding on their frail shoulders. The third Hokage must have been a big believer in the master-apprentice relationship at that point in his life, because it was clearly where he had drawn inspiration. Much in the manner that he had been taught by the second Hokage and he had hoped to teach the fourth, the aim was to give Konoha a backbone of A and S-class warriors that would outnumber the high-ranked analogues in other countries through close personal attention to their most promising canditates.

Of course, in pursuit of that aim, they had sacrificed the large proportion of respectably B-classed shinobi that formed the meat of the forces in places like Cloud and Stone and had to make do with masses of largely self-taught C classed shinobi who struggled up to Chuunin from the genin corps instead.

The genin corps as a concept wasn’t unique to Konoha, and nor was the fact that those within it were encouraged to become relatively low level jacks of all trades as opposed to specializing. A genin corps member with the talent to succeed in that type of competency could pick a specialty after becoming a Chuunin and make special Jounin, but that was about the pinnacle of what someone who wasn’t picked to apprentice could expect to achieve.

To her eye, the obvious solution to their low numbers of high level fighters lay in the way that they thought about the genin corps. She did understand that not every child had the raw natural ability of a future elite, and that it wasn’t necessary to push them that way – or even intelligent to think that it would be advisable to try to make everyone perform to such high standards. Someone had to perform the bulk of the low-risk and glory-less missions that paid the bills, of course. For most Konoha shinobi, D and C class drudgery was the characteristic common denominator of their lifetime of servitude to the village and not an episode that was short and quickly forgotten when they moved up in the ranks.

But the reliable drones who kept the village buzzing with prosperity in times of lazy peace became a liability in more dangerous times. They were vulnerable to strike teams from the enemies’ higher-ranked and more specialized shinobi. Having higher quality shinobi in fewer numbers was a great strategy for assaults but a shitty one for defense. So Tsunade would have to compensate by increasing the numbers of lower ranked shinobi on any specific mission. Once their numbers started to thin from casualties… they would be on the defensive.

‘Actually, she’s probably reinforcing all the border outpost guards now.’

It would have taken a few days to rearrange all active assignments, and Cloud’s jinchuuriki had only been killed less than a week ago. It would take a full day at the very least for genin and Chuunin teams to make their way to the border outposts. More than that, if they were doing sweeps on their way out, which they just about had to be.

Any half-decent strategist would know that. If she were in charge of Cloud’s forces, she would have gone with a strike force deployed as soon as they’d decided to blame Konoha to hopefully get in before fortifications could be flawlessly tightened—she would aim take out a few high value targets to put Konoha on the defensive, sow panic and confusion. That type of strike could make it possible to wring concessions and force Konoha to back down.

But that was a personal preference. Others might not see the value in anything less than peace or total annihilation. It was admittedly risky to allow your enemies to hold some of their own strength. Not that there weren’t dangers in going for ‘mercy’ and being internationally perceived as weak. Lightning might actually have to challenge Konoha to keep their status. If that was their motivation, then a war in name would suffice. If this really was a vendetta fueled by the Raikage’s sense of loss, however… He would only be satisfied with blood and ash.

Time would tell. But probably not much time.

She must have spoken relatively well, because her suggestion wasn’t tossed out. It wasn’t adopted either, but that didn’t seem to be the way things were done in bureaucracy. Yet another session and smaller committee would be dedicated to investigating the support and logistics available for three of the possibilities mentioned in today’s meeting, hers among them.

Konoha was struggling under the weight of its own bloated government, in some ways. But at least those structures could be manipulated into the occasional bout of usefulness.

Still dressed up like a porcelain doll and not particularly unhappy about it now that it wasn’t a novelty, Aiko wandered out from the council hall en route for dinner. There wasn’t enough time for her to bother getting groceries for dinner before she went out to check the forest in her self-imposed patrol that even she was beginning to feel serious about.

“Uzumaki-chan?”

The unusual address and a voice she hardly ever heard caught her attention. Kurenai was giving her a polite wave from inside the restaurant Aiko had just wandered into, sitting with a blue-haired woman she didn’t recognize.

“Kurenai-senpai,” she greeted politely, gracing the older girl with an incline of her neck. The hastily-chosen title was a formality to be polite and not because she had actually worked with Kurenai enough to see her as a mentor figure.

Kurenai seemed to note the same truth with a bit of amusement. “I don’t think there’s any call for that. We hold the same rank, after all.”

There was something dry but not exactly displeased about the way she said that. Bitterness wouldn’t have been entirely unjustified, considering she was probably hyper aware that Aiko’s promotion had come almost shockingly early in her career. Sure, she was older than Kakashi or Itachi had been when they hit Jounin, but the ‘average’ Jounin could hardly be compared to people like that. And there was probably more than a fair share of bitterness aimed at those extraordinary types, if one was to be honest.

So she didn’t protest, and gave Kurenai a self-effacing smile that was intended to communicate that she wasn’t the egotist that many would expect from someone who had shot up in the ranks. “Kurenai-san, then?” At the amused look on the brunette’s face, she blinked innocently and modified the question to a saccharine, “Kurenai-neechan?”

“That’ll do. Would you sit with us? This is a friend of mine, Otohime. Otohime, this is Uzumaki Aiko.”

“Otohime-san,” Aiko nodded politely, and took a free chair without letting onto her confusion at the invitation. Was Kurenai just curious and friendly, or was there a specific reason?

Looking at her dinner companions didn’t seem to answer that question. Otohime was pretty as a picture, and almost impossibly delicate for a shinobi. The conversation that followed indicated that delicacy was because she was in fact a civilian who Kurenai had been friends with since childhood.

The other two had already ordered, but the waitress that came around didn’t mind having their meals delayed until Aiko’s was ready as well.

“So.” Otohime blinked golden eyes at Aiko, seeming to see right through to her soul. “You’re really a kunoichi, then? Aiko-chan, you’re so little!” She reached across the table and grabbed her hand. Aiko was momentarily stunned by the other woman’s forwardness and didn’t respond before Kurenai chuckled.

“Don’t be alarmed, but if you’re not careful, she’ll talk you into resigning and sign you up to work for her.”

Otohime’s grip tightened around Aiko’s hand, and she gave a faux-stern pout at her taller friend. “What she means is that I recruit dancers, but she makes me sound like a yakuza. Kurenai-chan, why are you so unkind to me?”

Uncertainly, she pulled her hand out of Otohime’s soft, perfumed grip and tucked it onto her lap. “Ah, flattering, Otohime-san, but I’m afraid I have no natural ability.”

The look she received was absolutely scathing. “If you can learn taijutsu, you can learn traditional dance.”

“No, I keep telling you that you’ll be surprised,” Kurenai interrupted fondly, leaning on a hand. “There’s a big difference between learning to perform the dance of death and the less…” she cleared her throat and shrugged. “Well, you know what I mean. Besides, I think Aiko-chan’s current career is going relatively well. I feel like I know you much better than I do because I hear about you every so often. Hatake is insufferably proud of you, I hope you know.”

Embarrassment warmed her cheeks, but she couldn’t imagine him ever saying anything like that. Maybe he would say something to her if she needed encouragement, but he wasn’t the type to brag.

Kurenai must have read the question in her expression, because she easily answered it. “Of course he’s proud, everyone wants to see their students end up doing well. He’s not a man who shares those feelings openly, of course, but whenever Asuma has to whine about Shikamaru-kun being uncooperative he’s always just a little too hasty to muse that he never had those sorts of problems.”

“He is kind of a jackass,” Aiko admitted frankly, forcing the smile off her face. An attractive, intelligent, and ultimately well-meaning jackass, but a jackass nonetheless. She actually liked that about him. Difficult, cantankerous people were fabulous, and his bitch-fu was among the best when he cared to drag his nose out a book to deliver scathing commentary.

Apparently the other two women hadn’t been expecting that bit of bluntness. Kurenai twitched, but Otohime tossed her head back and laughed. “I’ve not met the man, but that’s an amusing character description when juxtaposed with how fond you seem. Perhaps you should introduce me?”

“I like you far too much for that,” Kurenai deflected dryly, before seeming to remember that Aiko was there. “No offence meant, of course!” She waved cutely to deflect a sense of hostility.

Aiko shrugged, forgetting how ungainly the motion would be in formal dress. “None taken. He can be difficult to deal with outside of professional settings.” She stopped and added, “And in them, I suppose.”

Conversation changed after their food arrived, leaving talk of shinobi that Otohime was unfamiliar with behind in favor of the food, weather, and the most recent princess Fuin movie. The focus on anything but the depressing political climate was almost too pointed.

“It was very nice to meet you, Otohime-san.” She genuinely smiled at her two dinner companions when they parted at the door. “And talking with you was fun as well, Kurenai-neechan. Thank you for the dinner invitation, this was much better than eating alone.”

“It was no trouble on my part,” Kurenai assured her, buttoning the jacket she had brought to contend with the night air. “I miss a large dinner party when Asuma’s team is out of town.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Aiko put a finger to her lips in mock thought, itching to confirm a theory. “You two are a couple, yes?”

Kurenai looked like she’d been slapped with a fish. “O-of cour- Where did you hear that?” she rapidly changed tracks, fighting off a blush and giving an ineffectual glare to Otohime, who was engaging in the least graceful hyena cackles Aiko had ever heard.

“From you,” she confirmed blandly. “Before now, it was just a pet theory. I hope to see you again!” Aiko whipped around and set off for home without letting Kurenai recover from her embarrassment, in large part because she liked having the last word. Of course, the setting sun was a reminder…

‘It’s time that I go check on those seals again.’

Really, she was starting to feel spectacularly silly about it. It was possible that her fear of Danzo was outweighing her good sense and that she was engaging in a futile exercise.

At war with herself, she wandered to the outskirts of town and took a deep breath of the heady air. Eventually, she decided, ‘It can’t be embarrassing if no one else knows about how silly I’m being. If I don’t do it, it’ll bother me all night and I won’t be able to sleep. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else, I can go check one more time tonight.’

She seriously considered going home first and changing. But it would be a waste of time. She would just have to change into bedclothes as soon as she came back again, and changing twice would be stupid. Of course, she could just change directly into bedclothes, but getting seen wandering the woods in a kimono would still be less embarrassing than the same in her pajamas. It would just be a quick trip.

Flicker. Flicker. Flicker. Seal after seal, working from the village to the borders, showed nothing out of the ordinary. Until they did, and she was blinking at a rush of color to her left. Reflexively, she leapt and turned—which saved her life.

She didn’t take much time to gape at the three blades quivering in a tree-trunk several inches from her torso.

‘Well, shit. I think I can’t count on the element of surprise.’

“Where the hell did she come from?” a practically dressed blonde woman seemed to ask her group at large. And it was a rather large group, considering that she was one girl. Two full squads… eight enemy shinobi. Well within the limits of Konoha’s territory… Had they really all managed to creep past a patrolled border, or did this mean that a larger force had actually taken an outpost?

Unsettling thoughts to be investigated later, she supposed.

“Ah, hello adorable Cloud shinobi!” Aiko greeted cheerily with a very Kakashi-esque wave. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Aiko tilted her head and blinked cutely, letting the loose bits of her hair move over her shoulders.

A dark-haired man twitched.

Confusing the hell out of them might work just as well as surprise. She probably looked quite the picture—unarmed as far as the eye could see, suddenly appearing in their midst in a full kimono with her headband tucked around her blue and red obi. Thankfully, her kimono was only secured tightly at the waist and allowed her a lot more range of movement than it appeared to. If she had to do anything especially acrobatic like high-kicks she might be indecent, but that was a lesser evil compared to dead.

‘Strangely, I really like the theatricality of this. There are shinobi who wear kimono in the field. I do like pretty things, and these sleeves are great for hiding things… Maybe I should give the wardrobe change a try.’

Unfortunately, no matter how weird she chose to act, they weren’t all off balance enough to fail to recognize that she was a possible threat. “Sorry little girl.” She didn’t recognize the pale man who moved into a defensive posture, but he was a total fox, with incongruously dark eyes and slightly mussed sandy hair. “We can’t allow Konoha dogs to live.”

Suddenly, she hated him. He needed to be taken down a peg or two. Sure, Konoha sort of sucked, but Naruto wasn’t going to settle for being Kage of just any shithole. And besides…

“What’s so wrong with dogs?” Aiko grasped three Hiraishin seals and blurred into motion, dropping directly behind him and yanking his headband off with brutal force that snapped his head backwards and took to the trees in the next motion. Even as she did it, she darkened her chakra signature and went absolutely silent, crouched in the treetop above-head to give herself a moment to think as she slipped the stolen headband under her sleeve.

‘What do I do? If I kill them all, there would be no chance of reconciliation with Cloud, and that’s if I could even manage that. I don’t actually want to be the impetus for a full-fledged war. The Raikage is attacking us because he’s convinced we’re responsible for B’s death. We’ll need every ally we can get to destroy Akatsuki, or at least to not be fighting on two fronts. I could get reinforcements, but anyone else would probably just want to kill them all.’

But she couldn’t let them think Konoha was weak either. The only thing that would stall further escalation would be to scare the absolute fucking crap out of them. She did have one tool in her arsenal that was unmistakably Konoha’s and undeniably terrifying.

Grimly, she swallowed. ‘Let’s hope that the thunder god is still causing nightmares in Lightning, because most of them look way too young to remember Minato.’

“Up there!”

‘He’s a sensor,’ she noted dimly, switching position rapidly even as the practically-dressed blonde woman she’d noted earlier charged up the tree she’d been hiding in. That one must be one of their big guns, then. Odd that she was the only woman in their party.

Stealing the cutie’s headband had been an impulse, but it really wasn’t a terrible idea. Humiliating them could backfire if they were the types to get stronger and perform better when pissed off, but it would also be a good demonstration of strength on her part.

As would separating them. That would be good psychological warfare: if they didn’t know what she was doing, seeing her pick off party members without a trace of a body would be seriously unnerving.

She stopped moving just long enough to hone in on one of the more intimidating-looking fighters (not so coincidentally, one who was on the outskirts of the group) and darted in with the aid of a seal to use inhuman speed to snatch him up by the back of his weird asymmetrical flak jacket and ricocheted the both of them outside of Konoha’s borders. Her left hand shot up to tug off his headband and her right rabbit punched him twice between the shoulder blades and sent him stumbling forward in the same instant that they hit the ground in a new location.

He spun around just in time to see her cheekily hold up his cloud insignia with one hand before tilting her arm to let it slip down her wrist with the other one. “This is nice, I think I’ll keep it, Shinobi-kun.”

‘That oughta leave him steaming.’

The curve to her lips belied her thoughts—it was hard to lie to yourself. She’d done that because it was funny just as much as any tactical reason. Killing these people could backfire, but leaving them stranded and confused in some rice field would be an utterly humiliating way of asserting her superiority over them. (Even if, you know, they would probably wipe the floor with her in a fair match. What the hell did actual physical superiority have to do with dominance?)

One of the first things she needed to do was thin their numbers and leave anyone who wasn’t going to end up in Konoha’s custody thoroughly fucking disoriented. With the flying thunder god on her side, she was almost certainly faster than any of them could hope to be. That didn’t mean that they couldn’t get her when she inevitably stopped to get her bearings, especially if she was so outnumbered.

But she had been gone almost two full seconds, and she could hardly leave the others alone within her country’s borders. So she blurred back into motion, Hiraishin war-song drowning out all other sounds in her ears.

“t fuck just-”

“She’s here again!” The only unmarked shinobi in that clearing was frowning in her direction. Damn,    he was a hell of a sensor.

“You’re annoying!” Aiko barked out, grimacing at the hottie who had besmirched her hometown and summon animal in one fell swoop. He had to go. But he was too annoying to be released into the wild to awkwardly stumble until he found someplace to give him directions (as hilarious and embarrassing as that would be).

She crouched and sprang to dodge the blonde woman—and hell, she was fast—and darted to the man who had been a thorn in her side. Unfortunately, he was quick on the uptake and had already moved the first time that she flickered to snatch him in a flanking maneuver.

He didn’t dodge her the second time. He probably didn’t even know what had happened until her hand fisted in the black zip-up sleeveless top above his asymmetrical flak jacket.

“What the hell!” Tsunade stood up with such force that her chest bounced up nearly to hit her in the chin.

“I brought you a present!” Aiko chirped, shoving her blonde captive into the beautiful mahogany desk with an unpleasant thunk as his forehead collided with the dark wood. Belatedly, an ANBU leapt out of hiding and reached for her prisoner.

Tsunade looked pained. “Is that a lightning shinobi?” Her tone was merely incredulous, but that didn’t stop her from reaching out and punching the poor blond chump in the head with enough force to send him flying to the back wall before the ANBU could secure him. Something in their prisoner’s back crunched when he collided next to the doorframe. After a moment, he peeled off and limply fell forward.

She almost felt bad for him. Getting caught up in someone else’s transportation technique was sucky enough when you weren’t immediately pummeled in the head by a Kage afterwards. He probably wouldn’t be walking in a straight line for a few days.

Well. As long as there wasn’t any more head trauma, he would probably be fine.

“Yes, I think there’s six more in the northwest, about twenty-five kilometers south of the yellow outpost. Do you want the rest?”

“In my office?” Tsunade asked a bit weakly. The ANBU securing the chump with wire didn’t seem more impressed. The door flung open and Shizune burst in, wielding steel.

“If you don’t want them, I could just ditch them outside the border like wayward puppies,” Aiko generously offered, brushing her hair back and dropping the two collected headbands on Tsunade’s desk with an absentminded clatter of metal plates. “I should hurry though, I don’t want to leave the rest alone.”

“Those poor bastards,” Tsunade muttered. Shizune just looked confused. The Hokage stiffened seriously and pinned her with an intense stare. “I don’t want any more in my office. Their aim was probably something in the village and we don’t know that bringing them in wouldn’t help them. This one will do as a political prisoner—he’s one of the Raikage’s bodyguards.”

“Grass and Wave Country it is,” Aiko muttered with a distracted nod.

“Wait don’t go back out-” Tsunade slumped slightly, having leaned over her desk in an attempt to reach the teen before she left. “without reinforcements,” she finished wryly, dropping back into her seat. “It would also have been nice to know where exactly she found them. Shizune, get me the best sensor we have in-village, and a strike team.” She held up a hand at a sudden thought. “Two teams! We need to check on that outpost.”

“Hai, Hokage-sama!” Shizune nodded and darted out of the office.

“You, get that man to Ibiki,” she brusquely commanded the ANBU. He hightailed it out of there, the man  called ‘C’ slung ungracefully over his massive shoulder (a tousled blonde head hit the doorframe with a rather sickening crack as Boar made a run for Torture and Interrogations).

Alone in her office, Tsunade swallowed down nervousness and resisted the urge to tug on her ponytails. Sitting her office when she knew one of her shinobi was fighting within her borders was against everything in her heart.

After having two of their comrades spirited away (and plenty of time to ruminate on the odd disappearances) the remaining Cloud shinobi had apparently figured out the working strategy of ‘not staying still’.

It was frustratingly effective when she was fluttering about a group as large as this one. Her perception and predictive ability was good, but not flawless by any means. Being outnumbered and trying to pick out targets put her at a vexing disadvantage.

‘Why couldn’t they be stupid enough to stand their ground?’

Time to be a bit more blatant.

Aiko shoved her hands into the opposite sleeves (obscuring the movement so that it would be difficult to tell where the weapon would be coming from) to unhook the kunai on her right arm and drew it out in a snapping motion, directly at the blonde woman.

“Hiraishin!” Someone called out with a strange clipped tone that blurred as she slipped time and space like a fucking champion. She didn’t see who had yelled, but was thankful that using the conventional method had finally clued them in. Now if they would just please be obliging enough to be irrationally frightened of Konoha’s bogeyman technique and scarper off, that’d be great.

She was too close to her target to see if any eyes widened in comprehension or fear. In the same millisecond that she emerged in front of her target with her hand already wrapped around her weapon, she ducked down under the arm that was moving to deflect her kunai with a Cloud arm guard (snatching her kunai down with her) to hit the other girl with as much force as she could muster with her free hand, along with an explosive-primed seal.

Unfortunately, she was no Tsunade. It would hardly be a finishing blow, but she would have hoped to at least stun her opponent. It was not to be.

Even as the force of her blow brought the other girl curling over, a vicious and flexible double-kick snapped Aiko’s knees in a direction that they definitely did not want to bend. Horrifyingly, her opponent seemed to have suddenly grown several inches of razor-sharp toenails that cut into the flesh above Aiko’s knees, puncturing her pretty kimono and sticking it to her flesh with dots of hot blood.

‘Her taijutsu is probably better than mine. She’s faster than I am sans Hiraishin, and she’s definitely physically stronger. It’s like taking a punch from Naruto, sturdy little bastard that he is.’

If she didn’t have Hiraishin, she might in serious shit. But short of something like a disorienting poison or a state of unconsciousness, that massive cheat card could hardly be taken away from her. So Aiko avoided the next blow by means of orienting between three seals to settle behind the group (most of whom had spun to look at the two girls).

The gaping dolts weren’t here to look pretty, apparently, as demonstrated by the unpleasant speed with which two men spun to leap in her direction. She darted backwards and ran a few feet up a tree before jumping to another one, raising her voice in a taunting shout. “You know, you chumps have already failed!” She gave an involuntary ‘huff’ when a flying- was that an axe of all the things- forced her to dodge and flip upwards, grimacing and crouching to get the momentum to bound across the clearing over the blonde lady’s head, at least one man in hot pursuit.

At least she was faster than they were, but even if she was faster, dodging so many put her at a disadvantage. “The grumpy one is in the Hokage’s custody, and at least one team is on the way out here. How does it feel to completely suck at your job?”

An incoherent growl rose up from behind her and the unbearable heat of a near miss from a lightning strike seared across her back, probably singing her clothes from proximity.

‘Ah. Right. Shinobi from the land of Lightning and all that jazz. Can’t stay still if I don’t want to get fried.’

“I guess that means that it sucks to suck.” Aiko swallowed hard, feeling mildly ill from bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. She flung the kunai in her hand straight up into the air so that she could flicker to it and get an aerial view of the clearing. Three of the freakishly persistent lightning shinobi were already in the motion of looking up when she blinked down. She hung suspended in the air in a crouched position for a bare instant to survey the area.

‘One, two, three, four… where are the other two?’

Ah. There they were. One was blending into the tree she had just been on under a genjutsu (that was lucky, he could have killed her if she hadn’t just switched trajectories) and the other one was hiding under ground. Shit shit shit. Neither of those would be easy to grab.

One of the men was slightly further away from the others. That had to be her next target. She drew the kunai close to her chest and snapped it back out in a path that should end a few feet above his head and caught it again a heartbeat later, kicking her feet onto his shoulders and letting her momentum help her ride him to the ground. He hit the dirt face-first in what had to be a painful forwards fall, but the maneuver (and the slight unresponsiveness in her knees that she hadn’t accounted for after the clawed kick they’d  taken earlier) left her on a downward path that was going to end with her knees buckling under and her ass hitting her heels. Her torso wanted to bend forward, but the woman in purple and black was coming in hot.

Fuck, didn’t she ever give up or take a second to react? She was relentless and demonically fast.

Aiko could see how the current tableau was going to play out as if it had already happened. If she didn’t move, that scarily strong woman was going to knock her head straight off her shoulders. (Or cut it off with the freaky claws she’d gained in the last minute-and-a-half. Where did those come from?) There was no chance that she would be able to unfold her legs and jump out of the way in time. Perhaps she could roll to one side or another, but that would leave her vulnerable on the ground in the next second as well.

So Aiko snapped her torso backwards with painful force, flinging her hands over her head up to blindly grab at whatever she could reach of the shinobi behind her, came up with a handful of his hair (and barely missed grasping a shoulder) and pulled on the first tag she felt. That one wasn’t nearly far enough away, so she took the millisecond necessary to seek out the tag in Mist and pull on it and two others.

If she’d done that right, they were probably in Wave. She probably hadn’t, however, since the next thing she knew was that she was soaking wet, having apparently landed on a body of water. Her head collided with the surface with a cold shock and she would have sputtered if she wasn’t breathing in salt water. Her body was still curled up backwards, but at least landing in water gave her the mobility to straighten simply by kicking her legs straight (even though that left her floating face-up instead of in any tactical position).

A blow to the back of her head made her see white and lose her grip on a fistful of short-ish hair.

‘Right. That guy. He’s still here and conscious.’

The force of the punch had actually sent her further underwater and would have been considerably worse if it hadn’t been slowed by their surroundings. Her opponent was on top of her in the water, the preferable position. He could very easily kill her.

If she’d stayed, that was. Aiko frantically pulled on the first three tags she could register (by coincidence, the one in Mist, one on the northern border, and one in Grass) and landed somewhere between the three, violently spitting out foul water even as she awkwardly touched down on solid ground with her hastily bent legs. She was probably in Rice country, though she wasn’t about to consult her map. Especially since there was still a fist curled in her hair.

She yanked her head forward and ignored the pain, because the angle dragged his arm up and allowed her to twist just enough to elbow the man behind her with adrenaline-fueled force that audibly snapped a rib. He howled in her ear and let his grip loosen out of shock. It was all the opportunity she needed to turn the rest of the way to push one palm on his chest (planting a seal reflexively) and wrap her fingers of the other hand around the warm metal of his forehead protector. She removed it with the simple expedient of leaping straight upwards and pulling it with her (though there was more than a bit of hair caught in the knot at the back, ew).

‘What happened to my kunai?’

Fuck. It had probably been dropped in the water, and she wasn’t in the mood to go back for it.

“Bye bye, asshole!” Aiko bit out with considerably more venom than was strictly necessary. He’d been a bigger pain in the ass than anticipated.

The five Cloud shinobi still in the clearing were inured enough to her coming and going that they didn’t jump to see her reappear. Though there was at least one confused double-take at her dripping hair and clothes. She took a moment to tug the hairpin hanging limply from her skull free and tuck it under her obi for safe-keeping. Damn, that was a good accessory. A lesser bit of jewelry would have been knocked free in a scuffle like that.

“Almost halfway done!” Aiko taunted as she crouched in a ready position, concealing her breathless and mildly lightheaded state from gulping in water instead of air a few moments ago.

“Don’t be so arrogant!” The blonde woman called out in a bizarrely low growl. Hadn’t her voice been much higher a few minutes ago? Odd.

“We should retreat!” The look that accompanied that call was wide-eyed and frankly a bit crazy, but at that moment Aiko loved the older man who’d given it. “If there are more coming, our mission is lost.”

“Coward!” The rasp was all but inhuman. And it frightened the Cloud shinobi as much or more than Aiko did, because all but one of the men in that clearing turned tail to run. “We can’t get our primary target, but there’s a shinobi right there!” The odds looked significantly better for a bare instant, even if she was now mulling over the unpleasant possibility that there was something going on other than murder that she hadn’t figured out.

Then her heart thudded to her gut. ‘I’m in over my head.’

It wasn’t just that she was outnumbered by high level shinobi. Or that she knew she couldn’t possibly have reinforcements in time to help if this went badly. Those things weren’t bad enough on their own merits, so it was just the cherry on top that she’d never fought a jinchuuriki before.

Well. There was that time with Gaara, but that had been short and she’d had back up. And he had been overwhelmed by his demon into a state of stupid brutality. The blonde woman who had just sprouted the beginnings of a virtual cloak of chakra was definitely in control of her facilities, judging by the obvious intelligence glittering in her eyes and mona lisa smile.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck.’

[pantoneyoongi]

neon signs | not this again

title ; not this again  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

notes ; 

this is part of the neon signs drabble series, where drabbles are released in random order (but listed chronologically in the masterlist!) 

series description ;

namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi. 

(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.) 

word count ; 1.3k

tags ; fluff, that’s really it, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags 

when you see yoongi through the classroom door window, you nearly turn right back around. the only reason you don’t is because you figure that skipping class on the literal first day of the semester just because you don’t know how to act in front of a cute boy is probably not ideal for your gpa. 

well, that and yoongi lifts his head at the exact right moment, smile spreading slowly across his face in a way that has you completely forgetting that you actually don’t have a crush on yoongi anymore. you swore. or at least that’s what you told namjoon, anyway. 

you push open the door, taking the empty seat next to yoongi. he always sits a little ways to the back, closer to the door - less attention from the professor, but still decently easy access out, he says. 

“hi,” you greet shyly, and yoongi smiles warmly back. you haven’t seen him since last semester - a whole summer separating the two of you, but of course there was still the group chat hoseok created with you all last year. hoseok made him send pictures (“to prove you’re alive, yoongi,”) so you’d received a tiny gallery of Things Yoongi Did This Summer. 

“looks like we have class together again,” yoongi comments, turning to face you as you get settled. you pull out your notebooks to distract yourself from looking at him - just because you don’t have a crush on him anymore doesn’t mean he isn’t still unfairly attractive. 

you bite your lip, “yeah, looks like it.” your eyes lift to meet his, and he looks so genuinely happy to see you that it makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. almost immediately, all the work you put in last semester to get over your (tiny, baby - miniscule, really) crush on him evaporates into thin air. 

you and yoongi are both chinese minors - freshman year fall semester saw you two in the same class, but you were separated for spring semester, your interactions generally limited to when hoseok managed to drag you, namjoon, and yoongi out together (which, admittedly, was pretty often, but still - not an every-other-day-for-80-minutes-straight occurrence). so lucky for you and your erratic heart, you managed to tame your feelings into something nonexistent whenever you were around yoongi. 

or so you thought. 

you really should have a little more resilience than this. but having been friends with yoongi for a little over a year now means you know that yoongi is terribly, terribly sweet, a kind and patient person with the manners of a perfect gentleman. it contrasts entirely with his sharp features, the ones that had you terrified of him when you first met him, until you learned altogether too soon that yoongi’s only sharp on the surface - his features quickly softened out, feline eyes giving way to rounded cheeks and a smile you can’t resist. 

you’re screwed. you are one hundred percent screwed. one glance at his handsome profile as he listens to the professor introducing herself and you know it’s game over for you. the rest of this semester is going to be spent every other day for eighty minutes straight next to min yoongi - you know you don’t stand a chance. 

you just hope namjoon doesn’t say i told you so. 

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.

.

“there is nothing even remotely unpredictable about this, y/n,” namjoon deadpans when you confess (again). you whine into the wood of the table, forehead pressed against it like you’d wanted to in class as soon as you realized yoongi was in it. but of course namjoon can’t say i told you so like a normal person. of course he has to say it with the words of his 148 iq score. 

he sighs when you don’t lift your head, relenting a little. he pats your head lightly. “it’s yoongi,” he tries. “it was practically love at first sight for you.” 

you’re sure he thought that was comforting (it’s not) but at least it makes you whip your head up off the table to glare at him, an adorable pout on your face. “it’s not love!” you argue back. he raises his hands in defense. 

“sorry. like at first sight.” 

the crease between your brows relaxes but the pout stays. “every other day,” you lament. “i’m gonna act like an idiot every other day.” 

namjoon inhales deeply through his nose, hand outstretching to rub your arm soothingly. “to be fair,” you know he’s about to say something that’ll make you ditch him in this coffee shop you forced him to join you at. “you’re usually an idiot every day- okay, okay, i’m sorry, i’m joking-” 

.

.

.

“okay i swear it is not my fault i’m late i really accidentally fell asleep but look i’m here i made it and it’s not even that far past eight-” 

you pause your excuses to find yoongi blinking back at you from his spot on hoseok’s bed. neither boys who actually reside in this room are even in it, both hoseok and namjoon nowhere to be found. 

“oh,” you mumble, cheeks pink. “hi, yoongi. where are the others?” 

he shrugs, shifting over on hoseok’s bed to give you room to hop on. he offers out a hand to you, fingers wrapping around your forearm to help lift you up as he says, “not sure. namjoon let me in and then disappeared, so as far as i’m concerned, you’re on time and those two are the ones who are late.” he gives you that grin you’ve memorized from the first time you saw it, all teeth and gums and bad for your health. you can’t help it - you giggle back like a teenager. 

the two of you make small talk, trading schedules and figuring out where you’re both dorming this semester. you poke fun at the pictures he sent over the summer (“yoongi, my grandparents take better photos than these”) while he huffs and crosses his arms (“at least i tried”). at some point he gets comfortable, limbs stretched out like a cat before he curls up against hoseok’s pillows, sleepily watching you as you ramble off about the latest show you’re watching. you’re still sitting cross-legged beside him, too shy to lay down next to him. 

(but the thought is certainly tempting.)

“we should watch one together,” he mumbles into hoseok’s sheets. his arms wrap around a pillow, hands curling into the plush. “i can come over, or we can use netflix party-” 

“seriously, how long does it take to get a drink from the vending machine? if it’s not coming out maybe consider that your dollar is lost-” 

“first of all it was a dollar twenty-five, so i’m getting that shit out of the machine, i cough up enough money to come to this damn school-” 

namjoon and hoseok bicker their way into the room, hardly even noticing you and yoongi’s presence. yoongi doesn’t bother to sit up, just buries himself further into hoseok’s pillow, hair spreading messily about. your fingers twitch, wanting to comb through it, and you grip the ends of your t-shirt a little tighter, turning your attention back to the other two boys. 

“you spent an hour fighting a vending machine?” 

hoseok and namjoon both pause, staring blankly at you. namjoon’s eyes dart to yoongi laying down on hoseok’s bed behind you, half-asleep, before going back to you. 

“oh. we were supposed to hang out tonight,” he remarks. 

hoseok looks at his roommate. “that was tonight?” 

yoongi’s eyebrows furrow. you’re a lost cause. “that was tonight, you fucks. you think i leave my bed just for kicks?” 

namjoon’s lips press together flatly. “i knew something was up. yoongi only shows up if y/n does.” 

this makes you whip your head back to yoongi, whose face is now fully shoved into hoseok’s pillow. it’s hiding his red ears, and if he didn’t need the pillow to keep things that way, he would’ve launched it across the room straight into namjoon’s face by now. yoongi has good aim and namjoon is much too uncoordinated to block. 

you try to hide your smile, tucking your lower lip in, but hoseok spies it and exchanges a glance with namjoon. in a rare moment of roommate telepathy, hoseok connects the dots from namjoon’s subtle nod. 

hoseok always knew yoongi was still into you, but you? 

oh, you are definitely also still into him. 

series masterlist ; neon signs

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Defends Them From Nasty Remarks

Warnings: Explicit language, MC being mildly violent (throwing/kicking things).

Lucifer

Lucifer had just finished some paperwork for Diavolo and was on his way to R.A.D to deliver it.

In the hallway he could hear two demons talking and laughing. As he got closer he heard them say "Lucifer" and instinctively ducked into a nearby alcove.

"Lucifer's such an asshole." "I know, right? He acts like he's so much better than the rest of us when really, he just has a huge stick up his ass. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends. Even his own brothers don't like him!" "He'll probably spend the rest of his life being Diavolo’s little bitch."

He would be lying if the comments didn't make him angry. But it was far from the worst thing he had heard about himself and would definitely not be the last time someone spoke ill of him.

With a weary sigh, Lucifer turned toward the south entrance where he could walk in order to avoid the demons. He could have strode past and glared at them menacingly. He could have made them grovel on their knees. But he was honestly exhausted and looked forward to this day being over as soon as possible. Plus, it would reflect poorly on Lord Diavolo if he started a fight with some lesser demons over this.

Suddenly, the chatter of the demons was interrupted by a loud thumping sound followed by the sound of one of the demons screeching in pain.

Lucifer quickly turned around to see- Oh no. You were standing in front of the demons, rage clear on your face. The demon who had yelled in pain was crouched on the ground holding his bruised shoulder. A History of the Devildom textbook was open on the ground, pages crumpled.

Did you... did you just throw a textbook at a demon?

Before he could even move, he heard your angry voice. "Listen here you fuckers. How dare you talk about Lucifer like that. He's one of the kindest, most intelligent, most thoughtful beings I've ever met. And you have no right to speak of him like that! I love him!"

Lucifer's heart burst at your declaration, his cheeks warming in pleasure. The two demons however, who had been gaping at you in shock, were now beginning to look murderous. The injured one stood up and slowly inched toward you, a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, is that so? And what the hell is a weak human like you going to do about it?"

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, Lucifer picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Love, I appreciate how you stood up for me. There's not many people who have done so for me before. But any more would cause trouble. And also, please don't throw textbooks at others, no matter how much you think they deserve it."

With a smug smile on his face, Lucifer began to walk toward the dorms. You, however, were struggling to turn your head around, still yelling and pointing angrily at the demons. "This isn't over! Sleep with your eyes wide open! You'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

He really did love you.

Mammon

Mammon was at the casino on a Monday night. It was lively as always, crowds of people playing group games and others drinking and mingling.

But for some reason, Mammon felt like being alone. He was in one of the more quiet corners, playing the slot machines.

He honestly should have been back at the dorms doing his homework. He was here because he felt like he had to, but his heart wasn't really in it. Mammon thought about packing it up early and texting you to see if you wanted to hang out.

The sudden sound of glass shattering broke through his thoughts. There was some sort of commotion going on and Mammon could hear angry yelling and cursing, some kind of argument.

Like many of the other customers, Mammon drifted toward the noise wanting to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw you in the middle of the crowd, still in your R.A.D uniform, arguing with an older demon who Mammon recognized as a regular. They had played some games together before that always ended in angry accusations. The remains of a drinking glass lay shattered on the floor.

Mammon quickly rushed to your side. "MC, what the hell are you doing here?! What happened?" Up close he could see how livid you looked, you were trembling with fury.

The older demon opened his mouth while gesturing at his ruined clothes. "This bitch threw a drink at me! I should have them arrested! Do you know how much this tuxedo costs?" Ignoring him, you turned to face Mammon.

"Mams, Lucifer told me to check up on you and you weren't answering my calls. So I decided to come in person to make sure you were okay. But then I heard this asshole saying terrible things about you to his friends, calling you a liar and a cheater and all kinds of horrible names that you're not!"

Mammon was shocked to see you were struggling to fight off your tears, your lower lip quivering. "I know how caring and genuine and loving you are and I couldn't stand by while he said those things about you! None of it’s true!"

Overcome with emotion Mammon embraced you fiercely, shielding you from the other demon. "Oh, babe. Ya really are a special one.” Mammon gently stroked your hair and whispered in your ear. “I don't care about what he said, but thanks for sticking up for me. I love ya so much."

"Now let's make a run for it so that demon doesn't kill us."

Leviathan

Levi was slowly getting used to being in a relationship with you in public. At first, interactions were limited to the privacy of his room: cuddling and watching movies, gaming together, reading manga together. But now he looked forward to waiting for you after classes and walking home with you while holding hands.

His face got really red and he had a hard time making eye contact with you but still, he thought it was an improvement.

Right now he was waiting for you outside your classroom, scrolling through his D.D.D to kill time. Suddenly, he heard someone call your name.

“MC, you’re dating Levi right?” At the sound of his name he peeked in the window to see you cornered by three demons. He saw you nod. 

The demons began to barrage you with questions. “Why are you with a loser like that? Doesn’t he like never leave his room?” “He’s honestly the ugliest out of his family. I don’t believe that Levi and Asmo are related.” “You don’t actually find him attractive, do you?” “Are you with him ‘cause he’s like the easiest to control?” 

Each word felt like someone was piercing his heart. These were all things that he had thought or wondered himself, days when the darkness seemed to win over his mind. But to have them spoken out loud, especially in front of you, it was unbearable. It was as if his lowest and most shameful thoughts were being justified.

He was afraid to hear what your answers would be. Biting his lower lip, Levi turned to head home by himself but flinched at the loud sound of something slamming into the wall. He peeked inside the window again and saw you standing there, furious, your hands clenched into fists. You had apparently kicked one of the desks into the wall, black scuff marks clearly visible against the white paint.

“Alright, listen here you despicable fucks because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Levi is private, meaning all of your questions can be answered with ‘none of your damn business’. But since you’ve gone out of your way to waste my time, I’ll let you know this: Leviathan is more beautiful, inside and out, than any of you will ever be in your entire miserable lives. I honestly don’t think you deserve to breathe the same air as him and I hope Levi summons Lotan to devour the three of you."

Levi’s jaw was on the floor. He had never heard you speak that way. He had never had someone defend him so fiercely. His thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door suddenly slamming open as you walked out."

“Oh Levi, tell me you didn’t hear anything just now.” Your eyes were wide and you looked at him nervously.

Levi grabbed your hand and held it tight between two of his own. “I did, but it’s alright. Thanks for what you said.”

“Anything for my Lord of Shadows.”

Satan

Satan was heading to the library, your usual after-school spot. Some days you two spent hours there doing homework, reading, or just chatting quietly about your day before heading to dinner.

As he approached the table he saw you sitting down with a stranger seated opposite you. Leaning closer he was relieved to see it was a classmate you were friendly with, someone he knew you hung out with occasionally.

Satan was about to say hello when he stopped at the mention of his name. "MC, are you sure it's wise to be this involved with Satan?"

He quickly ducked behind a nearby bookshelf. Satan usually wasn't one to eavesdrop like this but the question concerned him.

"MC, I'm asking you for your sake. Satan is dangerous. He's violent and cruel. There are rumors about him beating up other demons and doing horrible things to them. What if he tries to hurt you too?"

Satan flinched. Sure his wrath had led him to do some destructive things before, but it was never without reason. Is this how you saw him as well? His thoughts began to spiral. What if you grew scared of him? Of his wrath? What if you flinched at his touch? That would hurt more than any of the rumors that swirled about him. 

Satan saw you take a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I appreciate you talking to me about this. I know you meant the best and were just thinking about me. But I promise you, you have nothing to be worried about. Satan would never hurt me."

He saw your friend shake their head, exasperated. "But you don't know that! What if one day he can't control himself and has an outburst or something?"

You replied carefully. "Satan is gentle. Incredibly so. He always treats me with nothing but respect and kindness. And Satan's not some kind of monster. He knows how to control himself and his powers. I love him. I really do. And until he decides to stop loving me, I want to be by his side."

He saw your friend huff irritably and get up to walk away. "Suit yourself, MC. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Satan took this as his cue to walk over. Your eyes brightened at the sight of him and you started to ask him about his day, acting as if nothing had happened. Satan played along for a bit, but then reached across the table for your hand and began playing with your fingers.

His hand was shaking. "I'll never stop loving you, you know. For as long as I live you're the only one for me. I love you, MC."

Asmodeus

Asmo was thrilled when you said you wanted to go dancing with him because he was usually the one pestering you to do things. He was having so much fun with you tonight, twirling you around on the dance floor and marveling how beautiful you looked under the shimmering lights of the club.

He was beginning to feel a bit hot, however, and excused himself to the bathroom, making sure you were safe on of the couches with a bottle of water in your hand.

Asmo had just finished touching up his makeup and adjusting his outfit when he heard two demons near the entrance of the bathroom gossiping loudly about him.

“Did you see what he was wearing tonight? He might as well have come naked instead of wearing those scraps of fabric he thinks counts as an outfit.” “My friend slept with Asmo once. She said he’s super easy, he’s willing to pretty much sleep with anyone.” “I bet him and that human won’t last another week. Once he’s done with them he’ll trash ‘em and move on to the next one, like he always does.”

Being the Avatar of Lust meant that Asmo had heard these kinds of comments before, whispered in the hallways at R.A.D or the dark hallways of nightclubs. It never really got easier listening to them though, and he realized he was biting down hard on his lower lip, his nails digging into his palm. 

Asmo contemplated what to do. He didn’t want to keep you waiting by yourself outside but he also didn’t want to run into the demons talking about him. Their comments affected him more than he thought they would. Maybe it was because you were involved. He wouldn’t do that to you. You knew that right? He would never treat you like a plaything.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves Asmo schooled his face into an expression of careless indifference. He took a step outside, ready to greet his "fans", but was surprised to see that you had gotten there first.

And what a sight you were. Despite being much shorter than the two demons, it seemed you were the least bit intimidated. Your glare was ice cold as you gestured wildly at the two of them, and moving closer Asmo realized you were screaming.

"How fucking dare you say such vile things? You don't know the first thing about Asmo. You're really going to shame someone for what they wear?! For what they do in the privacy of their bedroom?!"

You pointed angrily at the demons, who seemed too stunned to move or say anything. "People like you make me fucking sick. You're despicable! Talking as if you're so high and mighty when all you do is judge others! How dare you? You cowards!"

Asmo could see you were getting more and more enraged and your hands were beginning to tremble. He leapt forward to stand between you and the demons and put his hands gently on your shoulders. Once he saw that you were okay, he gave you a passionate kiss, his mouth hot and needy against yours.

You kissed him back for a moment but moved away to hiss, "Karens, Asmo! Karens in the fucking Devildom, who would have thought?!"

"I know, darling. Let's head home. We can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath together."

Beelzebub

Beel was looking through the menu, deciding between a couple of his favorite dishes. It was your one year anniversary and despite his insistent protests, you had remained firm in your decision to pay for that night’s meal. Ever since you and Beel began dating, he pretty much always paid for your meals together because of how much he ate. But tonight, you wanted to be the one to treat him for once.

Beel knew you had secretly been saving up Grimm and he’d feel so guilty if you spent it all on him. Which was why he was trying to decide between a couple of different things, when normally he would have ordered everything on the page.

“Babe, please order whatever you want. I can practically see the thoughts turning in your head. I told you that I wanted to pay for tonight and I’m going to keep that promise. I want this to be a special night for us, so don’t worry about it.” Before he could protest, you called the waiter over.

Beel sighed and knew there was no changing your mind on this. You were incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be. He rattled off his usual order as the waiter frantically scribbled down notes, struggling to keep up. Once finished, Beel handed over the menus and smiled at how cute you looked, a mixture of pride and smugness on your face.

But your expression soon turned sour as you heard the conversation from a couple sitting a few tables over. Their voices were intentionally loud and they kept sneaking glances at your table as if to watch your reactions.

“Oh my lord, honey did you see how much food that guy just ordered? What an absolute pig!” “I saw, darling. I honestly pity his date right now, they must be soooo embarrassed.” “Is there anyone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with such a selfish glutton?”

Beel’s heart felt like it had sunk. Embarrassed? Was MC embarrassed to be seen with him? Panicking, Beel thought back to all of the dates he’d had with MC so far. He realized that they ate out a good majority of the time they hung out, with Beel eating his normal enormous portions each time. Oh no, what had he done?

Head bowed, Beel slowly looked up at you, afraid to see what kind of expression you were making. But to his surprise, you didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed at all. You looked like you were going to murder someone.

He watched as you cleared your throat and then began speaking even more loudly than the couple had been. “OH BEEL, MY HANDSOME, KIND, LOVING, STRONG, SEXY, TALENTED BOYFRIEND. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YOU’RE HONESTLY SO AMAZING AND ONE OF THE QUALITIES I LOVE ABOUT YOU MOST IS THAT YOU’RE NOT A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE WHO MAKES RUDE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TO STRANGERS ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF THEIR DAMN BUSINESS!” 

Beel felt his lips inch into a smile and he flushed with amusement and happiness. But you weren’t finished just yet. “EXCUSE ME WAITER?” 

Your waiter practically ran to the table and looked between you two nervously, then at the couple glaring daggers in your direction. “COULD YOU PLEASE BRING US ANOTHER MENU? MY BOYFRIEND WASN’T FINISHED WITH ORDERING WHAT HE WANTS. OH BEEL, I LOVE HOW MUCH YOU EAT. HOW COULD SOMEONE BE EMBARRASSED OF A WONDERFUL GUY LIKE YOU?”

Beel took the menu and began listing some more foods at random, not really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how much he loved you, how nobody aside from Belphie had ever stood up for him like that, had protected him like that. His cheeks felt like they were about to split from how much he was smiling.

When the waiter finally left, looking frazzled, Beel made his way over to your side of the table. He knelt down and nuzzled into your neck before giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “MC, you’re amazing.”

Belphegor

Belphie had to admit, the gardens were a pretty nice place for a nap. Earlier in the day you had practically dragged him outside claiming that you were bored of sleeping in his room. As if that was even possible.

At first he was pretty annoyed that you were making him get up and move around. But the newly washed picnic blanket, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the light smell of flowers in the air all contributed to a very nice environment for a nap.

Belphie rested his head on your lap, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Your fingers gently combed through his hair, lightly scratching against his scalp, and he practically purred.

He guessed he had been asleep for about ten minutes when he awoke to the sound of your voice and something prodding against his knee.

Irritated at the disturbance, Belphie looked up to see two R.A.D students he recognized for always causing trouble. He looked over to see you scowling and guessed you had been telling them to leave so they wouldn't wake him up.

One of the students leered down, blocking out the light, and used the tip of his foot to poke Belphie's knee again. "Well the two of you make an odd fucking pair, huh?” He sneered, “Personally, I don’t date people who have MURDERED me in the past but what do I know? Love works in all kinds of mysterious ways.” You flinched as if someone had slapped you and Belphie growled, his hands curling into fists.

The other student leaned down to clap Belphie on the shoulder. “I gotta admit I didn’t know you had it in you, chief! I always thought you were...” He gave Belphie a once-over before adding “Well, everyone thinks you’re a bit fucking useless, eh? But I’m glad to see you’re capable of something.”

Belphie opened his mouth to reply venomously but was interrupted by the most horrifying sound coming from your mouth. It sounded like a combination of wailing and screeching as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. It was difficult to hear what exactly you were saying because of how hard you were crying, but Belphie could make out “How could you say that?!” and “Leave him alone!” among the screams. 

The two students had their hands over their ears, their faces twisted into grimaces of pain. One shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Worried, Belphie put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down but you shrugged it off, continuing to cry and wail. Pretty soon other students began gathering around you, whispering amongst themselves and looking to see what all the noise and commotion was about. It was difficult to ignore you when you kept yelling things like “You’re horrible! Horrible! Leave us alone!” 

The two instigators looked at each other for a brief moment before deciding to run off, not wanting to get involved any further. And as soon as they left, it was like a switch had been turned off. You stopped crying and screaming immediately. If he hadn’t been there from the beginning, Belphie never would have guessed that you had been crying. Your face was perfectly calm and you sat relaxed with your hands folded, the picture of innocence.

“Belphie, don’t worry about what those two idiots said. We’ve talked about it enough and we’ve both worked it out, haven’t we? And you’re not useless. You know how much I love you and care about you. You mean so much to me.” 

Belphie leaned over to take your hand in his trembling one. He reached down to brush a stray leaf out of your hair before whispering, “MC, you’re fucking terrifying sometimes. I love you.”

[astaroth1357]

IT'S RAINING (DEMON) MEN!!!

I asked my sister for a prompt to get my creativity going. She played this song. Nuff said.

Intro:

It's been two months since the MC went back to the human world, and the demon boys are getting desperate to see their human… How desperate are we talking? Desperate enough to try their hands at some questionable sanctioned magic to get themselves to the human world... Good news is, they'll get there!

Just probably not in the way they expected. 🤷‍♀️🤭

Lucifer

He is going to KILL Mammon the next time he gets a hold of him…

He had no intention of taking an impromptu trip to the human world. He actually has clearance to go there when he needs to, thank you, so he didn't need to use any underhanded tricks to go between realms...

But he had made the mistake of walking too carelessly into Mammon's room while looking for a book he stole and stepped on a sigil half-obscured by an old pizza box…

...which is how he ended up falling from the Devildom to the human world at an unimaginable speed. It was like someone was yanking him to the Earth by the goddamn foot!

The unsuspecting MC was just out window shopping when suddenly an empty parked car across the street was utterly decimated by his falling body…

Of course, HE was fine, but that poor car never stood a chance… 😣 They had to help Lucifer pry himself out from the caved-in metal…

While he watched the MC fuss and try to brush all the broken glass off of him, Lucifer had only three things in mind:

(1) They look so cute when they're worried about him for practically no reason...

(2) Since he's already here, he may as well keep them company for… oh, a couple days at least?; and

(3) He was going to punish Mammon slightly less brutally than usual this time… May just fling him into a car too and leave it at that. 😌

Mammon

Okay, Mammon isn't stupid. He can do magic, he swears!!

He's just… rusty. Yeah. That. 🙄

That's the only reason the sigil that he haphazardly drew in his bedroom flung him to the human world like a catapult instead of neatly teleporting him like it was supposed to...

When the MC woke up that morning, they heard something familiar… Sad, pitiful little cries for help from outside their bedroom window….

Really only one person sprang right to their mind.

When they ran out to check, they indeed found Mammon tangled up in a tree like a wooden spider's web... He wasn't even facing upright!

It took them a half hour to detangle their poor demon from the tree… They almost gave up halfway through and had to call the fire department to pull him out like a trapped kitten... 🤦‍♀️

To say that Mammon was pretty clingy after they got him down hardly covers it. They were now his savior! (Yet again)

They had better not have any plans for the next day or two because he's going to want to spend every second he can with them… 

Or at least until Lucifer finds him and drags him back home by the back of the neck… 😰 (Hope they don't mind housing this figurative fugitive for a while…)

Leviathan

So in his defense, he didn't actually think the "Return to Lover" spell he saw on TSL would work, but he got so desperate to see MC again that he half-jokingly tried it one night...

Unfortunately for him, he also forgot that Simeon tends to use a lot of real-world influences in his writing, so… 😥

He hadn't wanted to be dragged to the human world quite so violently, and let's say he is NOT a graceful faller (arm flailing, girly screaming, spinning all over the place, etc.). 

Only when the smell of beach sand and sea salt hit his nose did he begin to calm down a little and get a good look at the surroundings he was hurtling towards… The ocean!

Video game logic dictates that if you land in water, you should be fine, right?? (Well, that's not how it works in real life, but when you're in a super sturdy demon body, there can be expectations 🤷‍♀️)

The MC was not expecting someone to splash down into the water next to them like they fell out of Heaven, nor for them to enter the water with the poise of an Olympic high diver…

They REALLY weren't expecting to see Levi surface beside them, demon form in the all it's sea serpent-y glory, totally stoked that the stupid thought he had actually brought him to them!

… Of course, he also has no idea how to get back, but who actually cares about that?? Lucifer will figure out he's not in his room eventually. For now, there wasn't anything in the ocean or beyond that could separate the MC from their adorkable otaku… 🤭

Satan

Okay. Teleportation magic is hard. Very, very hard. It basically requires bypassing several different physical laws by breaking down one's essence into a transmigrational-uh...

Whatever, the point is it's difficult, and mistakes happen even to the best of us.

Satan genuinely thought he triple-checked the symbols on his sigil… He must have made a crooked stroke or forgot a step in completing the seal properly… Either way, the spell he intended to bring him right to MC might have made a… slight miscalculation.

Rather than effortlessly stepping out beside them, he found himself hurtling towards the human world like a falling comet… If he hadn't known a few spells that could slow down his fall, he'd have had a pretty nasty meet with the ground... 😣

The MC was visiting a local park when pretty much everyone in their vicinity heard the sound of trees rapidly snapping nearby. At first, they were concerned it was a large animal… and then Satan stumbled out covered in twigs and leaves!

They, of course, ran over to see if he was alright, and the cheeky bastard just denied that anything had gone wrong. "Apparently," this was all according to plan… 

(Truthfully, he'd rather call Mammon some unsung genius than admit that he got the spell wrong, even if it was complex… 🙄)

Truthfully, Satan wasn't going to try making a return sigil for a while, so at least he and MC could be together for a time! Do they know if there were any cat cafes nearby??

Asmodeus

Asmo was PISSED at Solomon, furious even because he wouldn't help him sneak away to go see his beloved human! Didn't he know how hard the distance was on him?? The nerve!!! 😤

So, to him, it only seemed fair to steal some of the sorcerer's tomes and equipment… If he wouldn't help him in person, he could at least (unknowingly) do so in spirit!

… He just wasn't expecting the spells to be that difficult. Asmo is decent enough at magic, but some of those explanations were honestly beyond him… They bordered well into Satan or even Lucifer territory...

He tried his best, he really did, but the gentle teleportation that he was after actually flung him to the human world like he had been shot out of a cannon…! And while it was raining in the human world too!! 😫

The MC was walking home in the rain, umbrella and everything, when they heard screaming from the sky...

Thankfully, Asmo remembered just enough magic to cushion his fall… But that didn't save him from landing right into a massive puddle right next to the MC, effectively soaking them both.

On any other day, he'd have been angry that his expensive clothes were covered in rainwater, but that day? The second he saw the MC was there (and also tastefully soaked in water 😏), he just flung himself at them with a squeal of delight!

The MC had to convince him to let them get inside before they got too cold, but every step of the way was full of laughter and cuddles between the two of them...

Asmo would have to call Solomon to fess up to his theft, but hey, he got to see MC out of it! The bruised tailbone and ruined clothes were more than worth a treat like that.

Beelzebub

Beel genuinely wasn't intending to go to the human world; he really wasn't. He hated the distance like everyone else, but he knew better than to mess with magic that dangerous…

What happened was that he was walking by Satan's room one day and he smelt something inside… apples. A lot of them. He just couldn't help himself…

He didn't know that Satan was using those apples as test subjects for his teleportation magic… Unfortunately, the first fruit that he grabbed actually put him right smack dab in the middle of an incomplete sigil…

Beel kind of blacked out for whatever happened during the next part, it happened really fast, but it was the smell of more apples that woke him back up… and pears, peaches, pineapples, plums-

It's a farmer's market. Beel fell into the apple stand of a farmer's market….

The MC was out shopping there when they heard two things: the screams of shock and horror from the end of the market and a familiar voice shouting, "I'M HUNGRY!!!"

Of course they ran towards the screaming, defying all survival instincts (because who else are we talking about here?) and found Beel, mid-rampage, eating every scrap of food he could get his hands on…

But he actually stopped when he heard them shout his name. That's right, he stopped eating right then and there to turn and see them in the crowd... Oh, the smile that popped up on his face could have reignited a sun!

Beel had no idea how he got there and even less idea of getting back, so the MC had to eventually call Lucifer. They did get to spend the day with their gentle giant, though! (Just don't mention the massive bill for all the fruit he ate… 😣)

Belphegor

So here's the story. Belphie was sleeping in the library, as he sometimes does, and the next thing he knew, he was free-falling through the sky.

No, he didn't know what happened either. Maybe he rolled onto a stray sigil Satan left behind. Perhaps he was accidentally summoned to the human world. Mayhaps he even dreamed about MC so hard that it broke a rift in space-time to try and bring the two together... 

Who the hell knows? His more pressing concern was less how he got up there and more where he would end up.

Unfortunately for him, all he could see below him was a human residential area, and even worse yet, it looked like he was hurtling towards someone's roof… The MC's roof, to be exact!

MC was incredibly lucky to have already been up and starting their morning routine when the seventh-born came crashing onto their bed. Who knows how much damage he could have done if he had landed on them...??

That didn't change their shock to see Belphie, covered in plaster and wood fragments, sitting himself up while looking more annoyed to have been woken up than that he… you know... crashed through their roof...

He was grateful to have popped up close to them because it would have been pretty awkward to land in some random human's room. The MC was… less enthused that they now had some significant repairs to do.

Smooth-talker he is, Belphie not only managed to convince them that Lucifer would take care of the payment (which he would) but also not to call him just yet. Not until he could get himself cleaned off and maybe have a nap or two… Say, they weren't going anywhere today, right? Good. 😏

Check out my Masterlist for more wacky ideas.

[gloryofluv]

Manor with Manners: The Brothers Reaction to Meeting Your Family

The Brothers decide to invite your family over for a party in the human world. Your two younger siblings follow you. Your parents are amused… and the reactions of the crew are mixed.

(For the sake of the headcanon, you have two GN siblings.)

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Escorting your parents and younger siblings inside the manor, you stop a moment. “So, as I told you, the exchange program was a bit odd. Because they were in the middle of nowhere, they all have… particular personalities.”

Your parents nod with smiles. “I’m positive it will be fine. After all, if they went through all this trouble, they must be worth it.”

“Yes, they’re all excellent beings. I know I’ve told you about them, but meeting them, well, they can be a bit much,” you laugh and breathe before walking them into the party…

Knew about the plan for a while. He was hesitant to allow the blending of families. Diavolo was insistent, so there they were… entertaining your family. He’s incredibly pessimistic that something might go wrong.

He actually speaks to your parents the most out of the brothers. Talks about the exchange vaguely enough to make it seem plausible. Charming. Definitely pulls plenty of talented tidbits from his metaphoric cap. Your mother finds him responsible and handsome. Your father… Well, he thinks he’s quite refined. However, something about him… (Yeah, pops, he’s a powerful demon) Both are pleased with him. Checkmark for approval!

Watching you play with your younger siblings is a damn treat for him. He’d only seen you with his siblings, and suddenly, you were more than a fragile human. You were a leader. Tries to hide his blush as you call him ‘Lulu.’ Has a tough time not giving up his pride and scooping you in his arms.

Your siblings tease you about ‘k-i-s-s-i-n-g’ and mock you with noises when he kisses your cheek. Your blush and defensiveness reminded him so much of himself. Melted. Emotional. Completely gone for you. That was all it took for him to entirely give up the charade of distance and pull you aside, away from the fray, to kiss you and say how much he loves your beautiful heart.

Um. Scared of your parents. Really scared. Scared of Lucifer’s threats that you’ll never talk to them again if he messes it up too. Your mother is super nice, but your father scares the shit out of him. Poor bumbling demon. He doesn’t know where to start nor how to hold a conversation with either of your parents. Blushing mess.

Your siblings, now he’s got that! Cute little you with little children to make their minions! They’re young enough to coach, come on, it will be fun, right? Definitely likes being called ‘The Great Mammon’ by them. Chaotic and all about the games, quickly convinces your siblings into a game in the pool, then asks about you when you’re not around.

He adores you and later on would wrap his arms around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. No fumbling words or phrases. He would just smile a rare and genuine and pure smile. If you’re by his side, he’s the happiest demon alive and would do anything to make your family happy too.

Has a hard time even looking at your parents. It isn’t until your mother approaches him and compliments his sweater that he stares at her, a blushing mess. He then carefully explains why he chose the sweater, and your mother brings him over to your father. They’re gentle and ask about all his hobbies. He was shy, but they must have known that.

How he saw you with your siblings made him a little jealous. You would pick them up, laugh with them and play games. He wanted your attention. Your care. You. The envy began to fade when you invited him to play one of the human console games they brought. It was some party game! Oh! So much fun!

He was competitive but noticed you weren’t playing to win. You let your siblings and him win. Which caused the children to cheer and laugh. Oh! You were such a good sibling and honorable like Henry! His Henry.

He eventually shows your siblings TSL and his collection. He now gained two normie humans that were related to you as fans. They followed him around, asking questions about TSL, which actually made him feel so special!

Doesn’t outwardly approach your parents at first. He stations himself comfortably with a book at his side and watches the interactions. It is your father to approach him first, asking about the novel. Ah, a mystery lover? They hold a small conversation about human mystery and thriller authors, which Satan happily continues. Your mother comes over after a bit and asks him all about his passions. He’s a nerd, but they seem intrigued. Satan is great at masking charm, and your parents aren’t immune.

He enjoys watching you with your siblings. It’s a true insight into how you became so comfortable with him and his brothers. That steals his heart. He figuratively could rip it out and hand it to you. You were so good that he just needed it all the time in his life. Your siblings were wary of him until he began talking about cats.

Yep. Apparently, your siblings love cats too! Showing them all the pictures he had of cats was a highlight of his day. Hearing the gasps and sighs of the children as he showed off cute kittens in the Devildom. (Of course, you couldn’t tell it was the Devildom unless you’d been there). That was how he won over your siblings.

Expect secluded stolen kisses throughout the evening. He adores the person you are wholeheartedly, and seeing you with your family was a treat. A reminder that you had a choice on whether to love him and his brothers, and you do.

Doesn’t mind walking right up to your mother and giving compliments on her wardrobe and hair. Definitely slides in how she is aging well and how he knew how you got your good looks. Your father clearly finds him the most fascinating of his brothers. Not because of anything other than the mile-a-minute bubbly attitude. Your parents were both given excellent styling and self-care tips.

Cute little mini yous. Yep. He loves your siblings. He loves how you are with your siblings. Doesn’t want to run around, but if you want… fashion montages and a makeup party?? Oh, yes, completely! Keeps it PG around the little ones. Don't even mind that one of your siblings called him excitedly weird. (It’s a compliment, and he’ll take it!)

He actually doesn’t get all lovey-dovey with your family around. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he convinced Solomon to do a mock magic show for your siblings and was his assistant. Razzle dazzle in a sparkling dress? Oh, yes! However, you do owe him a kiss when they leave. After all, he did it for you!

You introduce him to your parents. Not because he didn’t want to meet them, but he was actually concerned. His worries consist of hunger, disappointing you, and hurting your family. (Sweet boi, just hug him, okay??) Your father shakes his hand and smiles while asking about his sports career. Your mother is just stunned at the sheer multitude of his form. He explains a little and smiles but mostly thanks them for having such a great child. Cue heart eyes and big smiles from your parents.

Your siblings are fascinated with the giant. They ask him tons of questions and actually begin bringing him food between them. They are enthralled with how much he could eat! Beel just smiles and lifts them up when they ask. They also ask him to lift heavier things, and it becomes a game. Soon he is lifting sofas and chairs with them sitting on them. Unfortunately, Lucifer tells him to stop.

He will do anything you want during the party. The most attentive to you as far as what you need to make your family happy. Your mother even slyly asks if you were thinking of dating him because he’s just the sweetest they’d ever met. He doesn’t kiss you or become overly affectionate, but he will be by your side for as long as you want him to be.

Not truly enthused about the whole family thing. Drank six cups of coffee before the party to attempt to stay awake. It’s your mother that approaches him at the window first. He’s looking out at the stars and explains such when she asks. She asks him about the constellations, and that’s when he opens up. Your father trails over and listens to him explain why certain constellations are visible at this time of the year.

It was a detailed conversation, and everything from his grades to his sleeping disorder comes up. (Sleeping disorder, which you explained to your parents obviously) He actually enjoys your parents' company but doesn’t try to put on charm or pazazz for them. They just like him for the interesting conversation and tell him so.

He does not like children. Not usually. However, that being said, he likes your siblings. They drag him outside to hear about the stars, and all of you lay in the grass after dinner. He’s nearly snoozing but points out different constellations and tells them the stories (PG and cleaned up) about each. It does help that all of you see a shooting star, and he tells them to wish really hard for something. Yep, they absolutely adore him.

Throughout the evening, he checks in with you and makes sure you're not stressed. He hugs you plenty, and when you’re sitting, he’ll lean against your shoulder and snooze. This demon is a Class A Clinger and won’t let you have a bad time or be upset by anything. Expect snuggles and cuddles when your family leaves.

[goggles-mcgee]

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

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Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.” 

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then? 

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out. 

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her. 

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.” 

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?” 

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped. 

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I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

[black-coffee-and-sugar]

Magical thinking indeed:

- im just over here feeling warm cuz lena really referred to kara's apartment as 'home'. lena truly looked like one partner stuck entertaining the friends alone because the other partner is running late and didn't give an excuse for why

- also kara flying in through the window sans the suit cuz everyone knows now. im living for this

- nia just jumping over the backrest of the couch. it's about time these people actually started acting like friends and i would like to point out that we didn't get to this until lena was back and finally a full member of the super friends. i know im beating a dead horse but we could've had this seasons ago

- i actually forgot about the voldemort/harry thing going on with nxyly and kara but that's honestly on me for always watching these episodes after 2 glasses of wine

- brainy wasn't in this episode because??? like what does he have going on outside of the tower? are him and nia even dating? did we really give his screentime to william and fucking mitch? this is the 3rd game night scene he hasn't been in and im not a fan

- andrea is so mean but like...it's william

- also this embedding william with the super friends thing is utter BULLSHIT. have you ever watched a show that literally has to force a character into scenes? nothing about william's involvement is ever organic and the problem is persisting all because of a contrived connection the writers want to forge between him, kara and the super friends

- alex n j'onn, the gatekeepers of kara's secret, the former blacksite clandestine agents actually agreed to this and WHY

- alex not protecting her identity WHY

- lena's identity and magic needs to be a secret and yet there lena is, eye fucking with kara in the middle of tower in front of william, god and my fucking salad

- honestly if william doesn't figure out who they all are, since they're doing a shit job hiding it, he's just plain stupid

- i get the impression that kara is still too terrified of lena getting directly involved. she doesn't want her on nxyly's radar at all

- esme!

- rainbow bracelet. kelly as guardian still wearing that shit like a proud mom hanging their kids art on the fridge. im soft

- the foster parents were suspect from minute one but the way that woman just pushed that small child outside to defend them. like...what kind of psycho does that? and more importantly why were they NOT ARRESTED?!?!

- 'lena broke my brain'. you know that line was 100% nicole and i thank her for her service. that was hilarious

- nxyly is the first supergirl villain ive enjoyed since S2 lillian

- lena is not amused by william. same girl same

- but credit where credit is due, his baking story for once actually had some relevance and gave lena her epiphany about her mom's spell

- kara offering to go get the flower or whatever for lena because it's dangerous and lena's little and she doesn't want her to get hurt. protective kara we love to see it

- william: you protect lena, supergirl

my dude, unneeded instruction.

- kara being all cocky is peak content. lena's little smile at kara's casual display of strength. SAME LENA SAME

- for a minute i thought kara totally killed that guy with the flicked bullet

- nia's spidey senses tingling at the lover's quarrel kara and lena are about to have.

- im surprised they didn't bring up the brain washing because that was definitely the moment where lena believed it was for the greater good and she was being manipulative and ruthless with her vampire shirt

- can we say GROWTH tho. i love that kara and lena can disagree without all this bullshit drama like before. secrets are OUT honesty is IN. they're communicating and expressing their fears and leaning on each other. this. this is what i want

- also have to point out that lena is kara's humanity. WE BEEN KNEW but that shit is canon now. so is kara being hopeful and happy around lena. and kara no longer feeling alone because lena is back. i can't believe im winning

- so so so last week lena says 'i believe in you' and now kara says it. before it was 'good luck' 'you too'. the way the writers avoid the explicit use of 'i love you' just makes it louder

- currently thinking about the 'i believe in a thing called love' episode and im already losing my mind

- lena and nia god i love them together. their scenes totally feel like genuine katie and nicole vibes.

- yo the stunt work was actually decent? dreamer's black widow style flip. the dansen banter while kicking ass. is...is this still supergirl? im not used to being fed like this

- dansen telepathy. they just agreed 'yep esme is the one'

- did veeta not say that there's a 'prescribed order to the totems'? so why are they now picking whichever totem they feel like?

- ngl the super friends have been the cause of literally all the city's major issues this entire season

- lena does the spell she didn't want to do because??? like that's not even me being a little shit i think i might have missed that cuz i don't understand the chain of events that led to her changing her mind when she was so adamantly against it

- these incompetent heroes continue their idoicy by letting william write this article WHY. they are not running on taxpayer dollars. they don't owe the public shit. they're actually breaking many laws as vigilantes and 'borrowing' satellites and god knows what else

- andrea has no journalistic integrity. or common decency. she's still hot tho

- william growing a pair. good for him but did he and apparently Andrea forget about the 'no competing' clause in the contracts?

- ending with supercorp domestic fluff 2 episodes in a row. bruh don't touch me

- lena: I'm not using my fingers

kara: I'm going to

this is the new 'i don't think about you while im doing it'

it's all so deliberate. they're SO LOUD

[animefreak1145]

For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

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Chapter 4| I Am Thee and Thou Art Me

Chapter Summary:

The action's you do is for survival and no other reason.

You don't understand other's actions though.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

Chapter Warnings: Mental/Emotional Anguish, Toxicity, Self-Loathing

A/N: Bottled beer is liquid hope and you love pictures.

Footnote: Translations at the bottom.

“Bell” Second Life 08:16 | February 26, 1981 West Berlin, Anita Wronski Cafe

“Looks like you’ve met death in the face, Bell. Rough night?” Lazar questioned, poking fun as they grabbed breakfast for everyone in line.

You rubbed your eye before pinching between your brows.

“Something like that,” you said tiredly as you  looked around the small cafe. Distantly taking note of Lazar’s statement with a dry smirk. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Small metal tables inside with metal chairs to match, both with interesting swirls for patterns making up the surfaces. There were more outside, the cafe a bit cramped in the first place even with just three tables again the wall. The smell of sweet German pastries and salty breakfast flooded your nose, making you lick your lips despite yourself not being hungry yet.

You were already up an hour beforehand, wondering to yourself how you and Adler could be in the car once more into the safehouse. Only to ‘volunteer’ when Lazar knocked on your door to help him grab food for everyone, apparently Adler already gone and left to the safehouse.

You internally frowned at that, you’re not sure why before you felt grateful. You would rather not talk about. . .whatever happened in his car. Which was nothing.

The flash of a clenched hand on the wheel as if holding back and a taut jaw came to the forefront of your mind.

Marionette’s should stick with their role.

It was nothing.

Lazar snorted, making you turn towards him as they both stepped up to the cashier. Lazar pointing towards the dessert window of what to get in a box as you spoke in German to the woman. Several more items of breakfast were ordered that will take some time to make, so they moved to sit to the only open table inside the quaint café.

“You drunk what—four cups of coffee yesterday, Bell? And looking at a bunch of nonsense for hours as if your brain is steel and your eyes can’t melt out of your head.” What a nice vision. Lazar took a sip of the German coffee he got for himself, eyes lighting up at the taste before looking back at you. “All that must’ve been stuck in your head and probably even in your dreams. Had any floating codes flying around your mind as you slept by any chance?”

That’s not quite right, but you’ll take the excuse handed to you as you shrugged. Lifting your own cup of coffee that you doused in three creams and two sugar’s, humming for a moment in agreement to Lazar at the strong and bold taste before taking another one.

“You can say that. I would have kept going and working until I got tired. You would call me a night owl so to say.”

“You seem pretty alright to me now,” Lazar observed as he leaned back in his chair.

“I have an impressive work ethic. Better than others I think. I’m used to going to sleep late and waking up early.” You can infer that your body is used to this schedule, harsh and strict work ethic that you must’ve gotten when you worked with Perseus. “Although, I admit I’m not very hungry right now. You chose a bad partner in this.”

“But you volunteered,” Lazar stared ever so seriously and another sip to his coffee. You could see he was fighting a smile.

You huffed through your nose, shaking your head.

“Yes. How could I have forgotten. Like I did for Kraus.” Lazar slightly winced at the reminder of how you got kidnapped, muttering an apology which you waved away. “It’s fine. I was the best to do that anyways.”

“You sure are pretty accepting with all this work. Just asking and taking files like nothing, ” Lazar rose a brow, you couldn’t tell if it was for being impressed or disbelief. You didn’t say anything to that, the both of you just sipping on their coffee and waiting for their meals to take to the car before heading back to work. You’ll walk past the center table easily and just sit in your chosen desk. Maybe get a lecture about professionalism which you will just absently nod at since you will make yourself feel numb if you have to, just to get away from the man in any way. Lazar paused at your far away look, your cup by your mouth yet you’re not drinking, instead of looking at a simple framed painting of Germany’s hills at the wall. ". . .As much as the boss man likes to act like it, we're not machines,” you blinked out of your reverie, your eyes flicking towards Lazar. “You're not either. Even though you understand numbers with little pattern and words that would have no connection normally—be able to put it together and have it make sense."

You blinked once more, albeit slower.

"I...I know I'm not a machine."

"Do you? Acting like you don't sleep and eat, besides those seeds of yours like you're a bird yesterday outside of the one meal I brought you. Do you sing too?" You released a surprised laugh at that, short as it was with lips still up. "That's better. Thought your lips stay flat like that. I swear, it seems both you and Adler are obsessed with Perseus. See why you're his protege now."

You were struck at Lazar’s words, focusing on him with a frown. The implications that the both of you were similar making you look down.

“Guess we're two peas in a pod.”

You mumbled the last bit, as if to yourself as you lowered your cup on the table.

"What? Oh. . .guess you could say that. But remember this Bell," He throws a pastry at you as you quickly catch it before it met your face(you would always have to be prepared for that before), blinking down at your hands before looking at the kind faced Lazar. "Lighten up. We'll get him so don't push yourself so much. And eat real food too! Seeds! As if that's food."

Your mind showed you moments from your previous life, Lazar always teasing and making you eat and try as much as different food as possible. Away from your decryption tasks as he would wave your plate under your nose as if to entice you.

“No point in being greedy,” The kind man would say, wry smile playing his lips with a tone to match, after letting you try food from his plate, even encouraging it. “Memories—memories with food should be savored and light and new dishes should be enjoyed.”

You thought of when you first found out the truth, still recovering from wounds of Cuba as you sat—away, away from that gurney—and guilt with Lazar—should’ve been quicker, perhaps you would’ve been kinder, kindness is a lie—and asking Park if Lazar knew. About you. About this. MK-Ultra. Everything.

You stared at the Israeli man for a moment before smiling, a mischievous thing. Genuine. Like the man in front of you.

"I am smaller than you, it's enough for me."

"Now you're just poking fun."

Lazar was always kind.

Oh, how he played his role perfectly for you.

At this point, you’ll take what you can get and stop wondering with him. You’ll go mad.

Foolish американский щеноk. The collar around your neck has choked all the trust for others in you.

Best, you think as Lazar easily teased you again, an unreadable look in your eyes as you take another sip of your drink. To just not feel at all.

The breakfast the both of you ordered came, Lazar grabbing the bag as movement behind the counter caught your eye. A worker bringing in a new dessert towards the other German sweets, yellow and round and looking spongy similar to a cake but with a crust like a pie. You walked back up to the counter, pointing and asking the worker in fluent German what was that. Her replying with a smile that it is their pineapple kasekuchen, the German’s take in a cheesecake.

You turned your gaze to the sweet, lost in thought before raising your hand with two fingers up to order, the worker nodding.

You grabbed the box and walked up to the curious Lazar by the door, his brow arched as if asking a silent question. As the both of you exited the bakery and walked towards the car, you still not saying anything and only periodically glancing down at the box with the kasekuchen, even tightening your grip a tad around it when the crowd around them got a little too close, Lazar decided to speak.

“You know,” he began, and you took note that he sounds amused. Almost knowing. You pretended to stay oblivious. “There was this mission I was on in Thailand with Adler a few years back.” At the mention of Thailand, your memory of yesterday in Adler’s car still fresh, you looked towards Lazar as they walked. “Something covert and recon with the usual stray chance of a suicide bomber. The standard for our great unpredictable job. Keeps us in our toes.” His tone was a mix of sarcasm and easygoing, as if suicide bombing in a country was like if he stated it’s going to rain again. Where is he going with this? “Anyways, when we weren’t doing that—we’d stop at this corner store near the safehouse we were in. Boss man would always buy his precious cigarettes, leaves the other stuff we need to actually sustain us to me. Except, he would get something else too. To eat and I always thought each time I saw that, that Adler is human after all.” He glanced down at you, one brow raised. “Do you happen to know what it is?”

You huffed, turning your head away. Them reaching the car and you going to the passenger side as Lazar stood by the driver’s side—still unopened and leaning his crossed arms on the top of the car.

“You sure like playing games today,” you dodged with quirked lips, shuffling the box in your hands to hold it in one as you moved your free one to open the door. “Volunteering me again and calling me a bird and now having me guess what a man like Adler would get besides his addiction. You want to talk about machines, look at him.”

How the puppet lies so so sweetly.

Lazar hummed, deciding to open the car and the both of you going in and settling as they placed the bags down by you to make sure none of it spills. After they pulled out from the space, Lazar spoke once more, offhandedly and an interesting turn of the lips.

“Pineapples sure are sweet and tart. Pretty good too.”

You don’t say anything.

Just made sure your hold on all the boxes of food for everyone didn’t tip over as Lazar would turn. If your grip with the kasekuchen was firmer than the others, you didn’t notice.

Feed the god and you might get a reward.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯  ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You squinted behind your closed eyes, shifting in your uncomfortable sitting position in the foxhole with only dirt and soil to help cushion you within the trench like pit. The crickets were loud, deafening in the jungle with a periodic squawk or call from a bird deep within. You shifted, your M-16 moving down in your lap from the movement  despite your lucky green cloth gloves holding it as you blearily opened your eyes, blinking them against the darkness until they got used to it. The half moon helping somewhat in giving light as well as the fireflies flying around in the dance where only they heard the music.

They were still on their way to Hue City, night coming upon them quicker than expected. The jungles are harsh and thick, especially with the route they’re taking due to their stealth and recon mission, but the planned route was still underestimated. It did not help the planned foxhole they were going to got covered, completely useless and the time to make another one is time they don’t have. Luckily, they were able to find another, although this one was tighter. Two small foxholes that barely fit the five of you, hence having to sit basically in a ball against the wall of dirt behind you.

All of you were doing one hour intervals in keeping watch, the watcher usually standing up in the foxhole in order to watch their surroundings. And if an attacker did come, they could duck within the foxhole for cover.

You felt like you should’ve woken up for your  shift already.

Your eyes focused next to you, finding the spot where Larson was supposed to be standing empty. You hastily stood, pack heavy against your back as it tensed in protest at the sudden weight, your hands tight against the M-16 and about to call the other’s names at the missing soldier only to stop.

Your standing position giving you new access to see more besides the sky above you, surrounded by brush and green foliage of all types with high grass upon the ground. Larson sat, just a few inches away from the foxhole a little to your right, staring up in the starlit sky. He turned his head towards you at the sound, seeing you were awake before turning his head back, as if you weren’t there.

“Larson,” you whispered, not wanting to wake up the others in the foxhole next to yours. When Larson didn’t move so the two of you could switch, you reached out to tug on his pack on his back. “You can’t be out in the open like this. You don’t know if VC or NVA might come by in the area.”

“Let them,” Larson said brazenly but just as low, making you release his pack in surprise. “Besides, there’s a bunch of shit around here to cover us. Even this grass is kinda covering my face. Nothing will happen. Now, go back to sleep and leave me be.”

You stared, before sighing. Carefully looking around once, twice, before coming out of the foxhole as quietly as you could—using the open holes on the dirt walls to place your feet to get out. You sat by Larson, who ignored you and went back to staring up at the twinkling sky.

You took a moment to stare at it too. This far in the boonies, away from cities and cars and just filled with wildlife, it has a sort of bewitching air around it. Despite the loud chirp of the crickets, the call of the birds, and how one would sometimes have to smack any open skin for stubborn mosquitos—the trees, the grass, all the greenery that looked dark in the night outside of being lit by the fireflies and the stars and moon above. You were struck once more, just how beautiful this country was. With it’s natural serenity as the moonlight not covered by clouds touched lightly upon to aid somewhat with the darkness but not as much as a flashlight would do, still, the moon did its best even if it was just at it’s half tonight. The stars were there to support it and you wish you learned more about constellations than your books, you’re sure you could spot all of them and weave stories of your own instead of reading them.

“You know,” your attention shifted to Larson, who still gazed up as he spoke, lost in thought and appearing away from here as he spoke quietly. He does not wish to wake the others it seems. “I don’t know if you remember me telling you this, but I grew up on a farm. Small. Not very fancy and it was just me and my family—Ma, Pa, and my two brothers and sister. Out just taking care of our cattle and our horses. Middle of nowhere, we would have to drive about an hour to get to a good grocery store that isn’t just a corner store or gas station. I hated it more that the closest school was about the same length. . . But what could I do? Needed an education, at least some, and than spend the rest of my life worried about a farm. With all it’s cow and horse shit, waking up before the sun does and at the end of the day you smell like all the shit you cleaned up.” He ended, sounding tired and yet with the bitter words it had an iota of equal bitter amusement.

You maintained your silence, instead moving your gaze back and forth around them. Not looking at how Larson’s lips quirked begrudgingly, head tilted up towards the silent night.

“. . .there were a few good things though. When me and my brothers and sister were done with work, and the moon was out—we’d head out to where the cattle were. Laying down on the grass without a care, why bother? We were already dirty with sweat and dirt and shit. And we’d look up—and than—“ Larson reached an arm out, as if to reach the sky, only to clench his hand and put it down back by his lap before gripping his MP40 hard where you could spot how white his knuckles were. “. . .laying down, in the grass, in the middle of nowhere, with just a dark black sky over you. . .it felt like it could swallow us. Whole. Not caring about how we looked or smelled or how old we were. . .it made us feel small. Yet huge. If we pretended enough, we could act like we can really touch the moon. The stars. I guess it just showed all of us there was more, than this little farm. With it’s shit and it’s smell and being in the middle of nowhere. The black sky might just eat us to put us out of our childish misery. Maybe that’s also why we kept going back, not just cause of fucking beautiful it was, but maybe. . .”

Larson trailed off and you decided to speak up, softly. Not wishing to break this odd aura around them, because this was more than talking about how small a human’s life is.

“‘If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you,’” you quoted, Larson cocking his head slightly and glancing at your from the corner of his eyes. You released a small fleeting smile. “It’s a quote. By a German philosopher called Friedrich Nietzsche. A depressing guy but. . . I feel like his words fit. The abyss swallowing. . . perhaps it is more you become one with it. A fusion. Where you don’t know where you begin and the abyss ends.”

Larson turned his head away, grabbing a handful of some grass and pulling as he moved his eyes back up.

“Who knows? Maybe. . . shit,” Larson dryly chuckled, “maybe, I should’ve stuck with staring up at my family’s farm home—staring up this abyss right here but there instead. Than maybe. . .you know, I would say sappy shit in my letters to her?” You didn’t ask who ‘her’ was, you could fill in the blanks as you wisely kept silent. “All words about the moon and stars and we were staring at the same one so I wasn’t that far away cause we stared up at the same thing’s. That she had stars in her eyes and if I looked up, I could see her in them. That she pulled me to her like the moon does water and just—shit. Fuck. ”

Larson hissed, putting his head to his hands. His shoulders slightly shook, you could barely tell in the darkness but you imagine he is holding himself back.

“I loved her,” Larson said, voice all cracked and broken as his breath hitched. “I love her still. And she’s—she’s leaving. What will I have when I come back? Go back? I—there’s nothing. We were. . .I went to war for  her . Our  country .”

You kept your mouth shut. Letting him release his sorrow and emotionally charged words that made zero sense such as that. You learned, especially on the beach night, it is not wise to depend on another’s support when it comes to actions of war.

You didn’t even give Larson the full quote earlier either. You do not think he needed the full one, but you know yourself what Nietzsche was going for. You think Adler might like it actually.

Eventually, you managed to put Larson back into the foxhole as you took watch by him. Standing in the foxhole as you did your shift. A few minutes officially in however, you took note of noise in the foxhole next to you. You turned your head, noticing Adler’s head was out, helmet on and war paint slightly losing their color. You can see his stubble starting to really come in now. He had his shades on, even at this time, in this darkness—but you could tell he was staring at you. Something clicked as you lightly sighed.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.”

You nodded, turning your eyes around their surroundings with your M-16 in front of you and gripped at the ready just in case.

“You left something out,” Adler said after a while, voice low to not wake the others that it sounded husky to your ears. You glanced at him, brow raising questioningly as Adler’s lips lifted to a knowing smirk. “I don’t know much, but my high school education isn’t too laughable I think. I know that quote. You missed the whole beginning and just gave him the end.”

You blinked, before shrugging as you peered up at the sky for a moment.

“He didn’t need the beginning. Just the end.”

“Some might call that yellow journalism. Or lying.”

“Others might call it wise,” you retorted lightly. “He didn’t need to know it. It wouldn’t have helped. So why give it? Besides, we know it. We’re the only type of people who need it.”

Adler hummed, whether it was in agreement or in thought, you couldn’t tell. You took note of him shifting, hands a little fidgety around his M60 and you felt sympathy swell in you. He hasn’t been able to smoke since the start of this mission, having to be cautious with any type of smoke. You don’t know personally, but you know that the craving for cigarette’s were mind consuming if you did not have one to quell it. Perhaps this conversation was a welcome distraction.

You wonder if this night is just you going to be playing silent therapist.

“Do you think Larson should’ve heard it?”

Adler answered as he kept his dutiful watch around, him facing the area behind you as you focused in front.

“No. He just needed someone to listen. Poor bastard should ask for R&R after this. I’ll grant it to him, maybe he could go to Australia and just wind down there for a week.” He scratched at his face, the war paint surely feeling a little off since he first put it on. “Forget about all this. All of it. The States. The war. He needs it. Hell, we all do.”

Your lips formed a teasing smile.

“Even shadows and monsters need a smoke?”

Adler chuckled easily.

“Everyone needs a smoke as far as I’m concerned. Maybe less people will act like they’re one push away till they make a shitstorm the rest of us need to clean up. But sure, kid, ” he half shrugged, focusing on the sky above with all its celestial like bodies. “Larson might’ve been onto something though with what he was saying.”

“Which part?”

Adler chose silence as his answer, staring up for another moment or two before huffing and turning his attention back onto the ground.

The two of you stayed guarding for a few more moments. You didn’t bother asking Adler why he was up and you had this watch, just like how he didn’t seem to bother to order you to go to sleep. You felt like once more, there was an understanding between you two. Still though, it didn’t stop you from the question bubbling in your throat.

“Since you know the quote,” Adler hummed lightly, showing he was listening. “What do you think Nietzsche was referring to, that the reader itself hasn’t fought with other monsters yet or from experience because he is a monster to not have other’s fight him?”

Adler scoffed quietly, amused.

“Just cause I know the quote doesn’t mean I constantly wonder about it’s meaning, Bell.”

“Humor me.”

“I thought I told you earlier I’m not here to spoil you.” You threw him a sheepish grin, Adler sighing and shaking his head as his expression turned inquisitive with how he pressed his lips together for a moment. “It’s a warning. That’s how I always saw it. But it’s not one we need like you said earlier, kid.  We don’t need it.”

You didn’t ask anymore. Because as you thought more into it, he was right.

Nietzsche wrote a warning, to the innocent reader and the oblivious society that put emphasis on morals and truth that he did not agree with.

‘Battle not with monsters, lest you become a monster. And if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you.’

Monsters do not fret about what they already are. Just as they are not worried if the abyss ends with them or if it begins.

“Get ready, kid.” Adler said much later as they all slowly woke the others up to move, his eyes squinting behind his glasses as he stared past the trees, the bushes, and the greenery as the beginning of dawn started to rise. “It’s going to be a shit show in a few hours.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Bell”

Second Life

14:02 | February 26, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You see yourself as one with patience.

When it comes to this sort of line of work, it is required. A sort of fortitude and composure that not all can be able to acquire but must be needed for this—for lives at stake based on whether you can put up an act or have the tact of an eagle capturing a snake, all sharp claws and silent feathers against the hissing strike. ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ.

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time,” as said by one one of your favorites, Leo Tolstoy, from one of the best works in history: War and Peace.

You recall last time—stop clinging, you stupid dog—when you stood outside the safehouse in the cold with your head to the book, Adler stepping out and taking note of your book with a cocked brow. Stating his surprise at your book choice as you mumbled something or other as you read, that it is an integral book. You even stating the same quote back to him, a surprise to you when Adler didn’t know of it. Listening as you explained it with a flick of his lighter and calm inhales and exhales of his addiction, showing off where the quote was as he leaned in slightly. Your heart pounding as his warmth was felt without even touching, than a brush of his shoulder to your back as he drew closer. Than it was gone.

“All grim thoughts and wise words with you, eh Bell?” Amused. A fleeting turn of the lips that stayed longer and a gaze that lingered as he stared through you under those shades. “Make sure you take a breather when you raise your nose for air from your books. Can’t do this without you.”

He would tease, but didn’t stop you from taking your reading breaks outside for fresh air. And he’d always ask, curiosity in his expression when you’d show him a line each time. You thought it was special. Their own little thing where you would raise your book and he would lean to you and they would touch.

“Bell, open the door.”

It was just cruel kindness.

Patience, you are using it to your fullest. You can do what you must and see if your actions can work up to something—all your effort and hard work being seen as a good little tool.

Though, time—time is something you may not have. Unless you make sure you’re loyal.

You were quick to drop off the breakfast on the center table, ignoring Adler’s rose brow as you moved. The pineapple kasekuchen in their rightful place. You avoided and didn’t speak outside a quick “good morning” to everyone else and went to work, breakfast by you whenever you got truly hungry.

You didn’t think about why you bought the dessert. Outside the rationalization it shows your loyalty. Perhaps a peace offering to ignore what happened the night prior. You didn’t think much about that at all.

американский щеноk.

Until he called you over to his desk with a wave of his hand, your chest thundering with your eyes wide as you wondered if he’ll say anything. Take you aside in private to talk. About last night or the sweet, you’re not sure. Only for him to motion for you to sit, tapping his knuckle against the file on the desk. You took note the box of the kasekuchen wasn’t there anymore(must’ve already ate it or threw it away) as you blinked, slowly sitting in the seat across from him as he slid the file towards you as he asked your opinion on it.

You scanned, mind wandering and flying, before you glanced up at him. His favorite mahogany leather over him that is second skin, a lighter shade of blue for his collared shirt today under him and his mouth free of a cigarette as well as his hands. Those aviators still on his head, a part of him. Sort of like the beanie—ski—mask over your head as he looked down at another report in front of him. As if he didn’t call you over from your desk to his to help with a file when he could’ve just left it on your desk. As if you didn’t cross a line—you always cross the line, over, behind, or creating a completely new one to do what you must like he does whatever it takes but it was wrong, you are no saint, pitiful mutt—yesterday with your words and questions.

A hand reached towards the file in front of you, knuckle tapping twice, more force this time.

You focused back on the file, only to see Adler already took his hand back. Continuing to read as he patiently waited for your consensus on the file before you.

You were struck than how he’ll handle this, understanding dawning on you as your gaze focused and turned to the file below you and picking it up.

If he wishes to pretend as if it never occurred, it’s fine with you. It’s best either way for both of you. You have too many worries already, Adler included. Best to leave certain things out your mind about the man lest you’ll get clouded. You’re trying to survive. Not get caught up in and tangled in mind games.

You spotted in the corner of your eye Adler give a ghost of a nod, the tiniest tip of the head, imperceptible to others but you knew. He gave a similar one when you captured Volkov, walking up to you with a calm swagger and gloved hands around his weapon, as he moved his head in approval. Such a good girl to be happy with just a nod. Satisfied. He’s satisfied. He knows you understood. Understood him.

“You know me too well.”

“Guess we’re two peas in a pod.”

“I need Bell.”

You raised the file closer, over your mouth formed in a subconscious echo of a pleased smile. You didn’t even feel it. Nor did you feel electric blue eyes behind shades glance towards you before turning back to his work—the silent agreement to keep what happened last night to themselves written and signed without the two of you having to open your mouths.

Coward, you wanted to snarl. To who, you’re not sure. You just focused on what Adler gave you. You’ll need to have Adler let you live so you’ll need to not just be a perfect asset to the others but a person to him.

You have to do what you must.

“Damaged goods.”

You have to.

“You remembered.”

You flicked your eyes towards him, file momentarily forgotten. He didn’t look up from his own file, continuing to read it with the expression he always has when concentrated—a hint of pressed lips that reveals his dimples and brows lowered than usual where it would be difficult to see due to his shades. You would think that mania has truly taken a hold of you, with it’s dark tentacles filled with dark thoughts and mental anguish or rather slithering and multiplying vines where Lykourgos grew mad due to Dionysus’ vengeance except for you it is with choking collars and stifling leashes and cutting strings. He looked as if he didn’t speak at all. All the quiet focus of a war hardened CIA agent that didn’t have a ring on his finger but was married to his job with a badge to show all the same.

But you knew his voice. As if it was your own.

“We’ve known each other for years.”

“Fought together. Bled together. Been through Hell in Vietnam together.”

“We got a job to do.”

“ B e l l,  o p e n  t h e  d o o r . ”

The poor американская сука loves pain like a drug.

“I wasn’t sure what you would,” Adler spoke again, your eyes focusing on him once more. His head still was tilted down and a little to the side, shades facing the paper but you believed he glanced towards you. “The coma did a number on you with your memories. I know you’ve been saying it’s only been about Vietnam but you never specified about what. Or if you happened to remember anything else.” He didn’t state it like a question but he might as well have.

Of course he would ask. Why wouldn’t he?

Nonetheless, you knew what he was referring to in his earlier statement. He ate them. You picked up your file with a small huff.

“Hard to forget, Adler. Of course I would remember. You would hold those cans like a lifeline,” your lips lifted at the memories, of Adler trading with others if he must to get his precious golden ambrosia that would appease him similar to his cigarettes. You kept your lips up despite the quick recall the memories were fake—the trading of trash, the quiet understanding to not speak of it, of beautiful Vietnam foliage and unforgettable talks—just as you glanced at him and continued easily. “Glad you liked them. Wasn’t sure if you would. As for other memories. . . it’s still only been with Vietnam. I haven’t gotten anything else.” Adler hummed, cocking his head a tad before your lips formed more of a smile that you felt. “But at least I still know what I like or don’t. Can’t imagine a clean slate.”

“That’s normal,” Adler said, shades now facing you as you somewhat hid your face with the file. The only thing him being able to see fully was your eyes. “Learn how to calm down and that you can’t take all these shots like you’re a target in a shitty gun range. Might remember more.”

You found yourself snorting, rolling your eyes. Finding dark amusement at his words despite yourself. Perhaps you are growing insane.

“Based on what you told me in the hospital, you would’ve had some holes instead.” The way you said it, it sounds like you still believe it. Like it was real. Dance puppet, dance. You turned up your lips into a semblance of a smirk as you looked over the file towards him. You maintained it even though you think the both of your eyes connected despite the shades hiding. “You don’t have to worry, Adler. I got your back. Always. A few shots is nothing.”

It’s what you would’ve said before. It scares you how much you meant it previously. As if your life was forfeit if it came to having Adler live longer. Nothing else would matter as long as he lived. Nothing. As if the world would come to an end if he fell—the only one that could hold it and keep it straight.

Perhaps he is Atlas after all. . .

The loyal dog with the pretty collar will always protect the master.

Cursed due to his cruelty.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Adler stared at you for a moment, as if assessing your words. Scrutinizing them. He than reached into his jacket, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Once he did the first drag and released his puff, away from you as you observed the smoke curl around them, he looked back down to the papers on the desk.

“How lucky am I that I got you around than, kid,” he replied, all low and earnest as he took another drag. “Just don’t go dying on me. Can’t have Sims talk to his shrink about something else. He’d be heart broken.”

Adler said that sentence a little louder, so it was no surprise that Sims by the desk put down his magazine and called out.

“I resent that!”

Adler’s lips twitched in response, but kept his gaze down as your heart thundered.

You thought of an explosion to the chest, your heart open and bare for more reasons than you planned. Of soft words to your ear that sounded like regret and something else as you coughed. Of a gentle touch that held you up, hands wandering from your waist to your stomach—stopping just short of a bleeding chest as if they wanted to stop the red—redredredredred—from flowing out but hesitated. An encircling of arms that released heat as you grew cold—you don’t like the cold much anymore—while an expression was carefully guarded with eyes hiding behind a shaded curtain.

You felt your throat tighten. The need for answers to unanswered questions reaching a head.

“Just Sims?” you asked softly, a little breathless and a little confused at said breathlessness.

He glanced up, aviators slightly down and you could barely see his eyes as he exhaled a puff, eyeing you. You staring as his brow lifted for a moment before it settled, an interesting look in your eyes that one might call forlorn. And something else that is dangerous and not meant for monsters who are better alone.

“Maybe another life, kid.”

Mind thine eyes dog, for they show you yearn the impossible.

“You know the answer, Bell. Everyone would be,” Adler leaned slightly back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers in his customary hold between his ring and middle finger. “You’re part of the team. What kind of question is that?”

“You’re still one of us.”

He knows what he’s doing. Just as he knows what you mean.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down with squinting eyes at the file. Your hand making it a little wrinkle and you don’t know what you expected. What you’re expecting. He hurts. He pretends. Why would he even answer truthfully when he can dodge and feel less guilt about a hole in you caused by his hand?

He’s—

You felt a nudge against your knee, you looking up in shock with a quick inhale at the unexpected touch. It staying there—his knee, he’s touching you—as you watched Russell tilt his head at you, brow up and lips quirked with a cigarette around it and looking wry and relaxed—what is this, why, what could this be for, why is he doing acts that are pointless yet mean everything when he could just be distant, you are getting worked up over just knees touching, you touch starved little thing—as he motioned his head an iota to the left. Your eyes following the movement to see Park where she was, nearby with her desk and a headphone to one ear but the other still able to listen in despite how naturally quiet you and Adler are with your soft voice and Adler’s low tone.

Park? What does she have to do with anything? And why would Adler of all people care?

You frowned, only for your lips to flatten in realization of her words to you about Adler. To stay away. You now wonder if she did a similar warning to him.

“Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

You wonder if the pissing match that was imperceptible and the slight tension was more than just two agencies trying to come to an accord.

But why would Park warn Adler?

You glanced back at Adler, who gave a half shrug as if to answer your silent question. It only raised more. You moved your knee back closer to your form and Adler didn’t react as you did so. The both of you turning back to the files that Adler requested your assistance.

Not thinking in the back of your mind of fleeting touches, lingering looks, or a voice to your pounding ear that tinged with remorse even though you couldn’t see his face.

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You and Park just recently finished going through the report you and Woods got from Ukraine. Sims and Lazar were in the back rooms where the gun range was while Park was in the Red Room. Last you checked, Adler was still in his office with a call while Mason and Woods were by the weight lifting equipment and taking turns to work off some steam due to what was discovered. You were putting the findings up on the evidence board with tacks, careful to not stab yourself. You wouldn’t be as concerned if you were wearing your gloves which you put away earlier by your bunk bed, but than again, you’re quite careful with your gloves. Not only because of the quality, but who got the leather gloves for you when you were just recently discharged out of the hospital back in the States.

You smiled, putting the last tack on the board only to have a sudden weight around your shoulders. You widened your eyes, briefly alarmed only to turn your head to see it was a smirking Woods.

“Done? Good! I’ve been holding off till now but it’s time to fucking see what you’re  really  made of Bell.”

You blinked, confused and still reeling at the fact you didn’t sense his approach at all. Your mind will zone out over the littlest of things lately. It concerns you. But it hasn’t been a problem so far out in missions, so you think it’s alright.

“And how exactly I’m going to do that? Thought I showed you enough back in Ukraine.”

At that, Woods laughed as he basically tugged you to where Mason was, who was shaking his head at his friend and shooting you an apologetic look as you just smiled that you were okay with it. Their van door open in the back as well as a table and chairs in front. You took note of the packs of beer and you see what Woods meant as he sat by Mason in the van on the floor, you sitting down and observing as Woods took a hefty gulp of a beer.

“I think I know now. But,” you glanced to where Adler’s office was, “is this wise? Isn’t Hudson coming over here soon?”

Woods slammed his beer down, causing some of it to come out as Mason sighed at the wastefulness.

“Man,  fuck  Hudson!” Woods wiped his chin harshly, irritation coloring his features. “I want to forget about that nutsack for the rest of the day. When he comes, he better not say shit or I’ll punch him again. Maybe with that shit will stop coming out his mouth.”

Mason chuckled, having his own beer in his hand as his eyes wandered to his longtime friend, shifting as he got comfortable in his seat.

“How’s the hand?”

Woods scoffed.

“Pfft. Nothing fancy,” Woods looked at said hand, clenching it as he moved to crack his knuckles as he grinned wildly. “Ready enough, like I said, if Hudson says something smart.” He punched his fist against his hand, muscles flexing noticeable despite his jacket as you couldn’t help but laugh along with Mason.

“I still can’t believe you punched him yesterday,” you spoke up, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine anyone punching the intimidating harsh man that is James Hudson. Soon after your discharge, you had to meet with him back in Langley for the mission before all this Perseus business—although you suppose supporting the Polish union Solidarity in fighting back communists have everything to do with Perseus. You don’t understand why the man seems to dislike you so much, especially if the two of you worked briefly before which you sadly can’t remember. He must always be like that with others, Woods doesn’t seem to like or appreciate Hudson’s icy countenance either way. You don’t quite appreciate the man’s secrecy about the nukes, so you see why. “If I even breathe the air wrong around him, I think I will be dead come morning. I don’t think I’m exaggerating.”

“You?” Woods asked, amused incredulity in his tone as he faced you. “The one who basically took out three Heavy’s by your lonesome? Scared of that ball face? You’re shitting me!”

Mason rose his brows as he turned towards you.

“You didn’t say that in the report. You holding out on us, Bell?”

“Right?! Now open a bottle and tell Mason here everything that happened.”

You rose a brow, amusement shining in your eyes, your hand moving to the pack of beer before stopping. The memory of the arcade room making you smile knowingly.

“Everything?”

Woods made a face, cheeks looking an interesting color that Mason caught as he nudged his friend with his elbow.

“What’s she talking about Woods?”

“Nothing! Jesus Christ Bell, didn’t know you could be a little shit like Adler can.”

The words bounced off you easily, already used to the man’s vulgar personality from the mission and even before the mission to go over details, as you shrugged, smirking as Mason kept pushing Woods on what happened as Woods would grumble or drink his beer to avoid answering. At Adler’s name however, you looked back at the office, slightly biting the inside of your lip.

Your breaks thus far outside of eating has just been reading your books or a quick game in the back room. Never for a drink like Lazar would do with Sims and Park at times. Adler, at least what you know of, hasn’t drunk and just has stuck with his cigarettes. You don’t even remember the last time  you  drank. All you know is that you like it.

But. . . you’re not sure if Adler would approve. You’re always focused on your work and great at it, he depends on you to maintain your focus to catch Perseus.

You subconsciously put your hand in your jacket, feeling the polaroid as you thought.

Woods noticed your apprehension and called out to you, you turning your head back.

“Whatcha fuckin’ worried about? You’ve been working all day from those codes and whatever the shit you put on the board. I don’t think Adler would want you to be worked dry where you don’t even think straight.”

“Only booze can do that,” Mason added helpfully.

Woods nodded, looking too serious it was almost comical since they were just trying to persuade you to drink.

“What he said.”

You took a moment before you shrugged, grabbing a beer and opening it as you stated that you guess you could drink with legends. Woods huffing at you, soon calling you cocky in realization as to why you made fighting Heavy’s not a big deal and not impressed with him. Mason seeming to find it funny as the three of you drank and talked about the mission more freely and colorful words with Woods. You did slightly flush when Woods told Mason you were a nerd for playing a quick game while there were Russians preparing for their training course, Mason snorting as you hushed them when Park grew near them. Not wishing for her to find out.

Quickly hiding it by inviting her to join just as Lazar and Sims came back, the two men seeming to easily join in as Park contemplated as she stared at the beer. With a sigh though, she sat by Lazar as she took one.

“Next time, I’m buying the alcohol here. You bought rubbish, Woods.”

“‘Rubbish?’ And beer is beer, nothing wrong with good ol cheap beer sometimes,” Woods defended. “Adds to the flavor.”

Lazar smiled, raising his bottle.

“Cheers to that.” Lazar and Woods tapped their bottles in the middle when they reached over, an easy aura settling between the group.

Sims got a bottle, assessing the name as well as the pack as he did a dog whistle.

“Germans know how to do one thing right, and that’s beer. You’ll be fine Park. It could be worse,” Sims took a drink, humming as he did so while Park frowned at her bottle when she took a few sips.

“Worse?”

“It could’ve been canned,” Mason answered, speaking from experience that made you raise a brow as you took a drink, settling further into your seat. “Canned cheap beer you can basically taste the metal. There was one time back in the States where I practically shitted myself due to this cheap beer I got at this random gas station in the middle of nowhere. Ruined my night.”

“And your pants it seems,” Lazar commented, mirth clear in his tone before he released a laugh along with Sims guffaw at the Israeli’s words. Park shaking her head but anyone can see her smile on her lips as Woods stated that’s what happens when you’re in “bumfuck nowhere” and probably got experimented with weird moonshine.

You snorted in surprise, covering your mouth as your imagination pictured the soldier rushing to the bathroom lest an accident happens. Mason? He seems so serious all the time, which you can understand why. You’ve read up what you could on everyone here, the description’s were small but you could fill in the lines. He’s lucky that he has such a good friend like Woods.

It soon became a trading of stories between everyone about drunk nights and how they reached that point, Lazar running with a bowl of chili and Woods determined to make condom water balloons and Sims was just finishing his own passed out in random deck chairs story when the door of the office opened.

You immediately turned towards where Adler now stood, staring at all of you as he closed the door and currently free of a cigarette. Your anxiety only grew when Adler turned his head towards you, as if he was asking you personally on the situation as you could only throw him an apologetic yet impish smile. Adler’s brow rose.

“Adler!” Woods called, raising a hand and motioning it for the man to come over. Adler approaching the group as you could only stare and tried to get a read on him. Alas, it was hard to discern his mind even if you could spot him glancing at everyone and the table with bottles. “Join us while there’s still beer left! Planning to drink all of this before Hudson comes. He can’t say anything if there’s no evidence.”

Adler hummed, stopping behind you and Sims as he appeared in thought. A trickle of hope coming up your chest at Woods offer.

“All of you are in luck,” Adler eventually answered, the subtle amused tone not lost on you as you intently focused on it. “Hudson isn’t coming till early in the morning tomorrow. Got caught up with something with Black. Can’t imagine how he would react if he saw all this.”

“Fuck ‘im,” Woods spat, reaching for a bottle and throwing Adler one. Adler catching it with his hand, shaded eyes turning towards the bottle to read the label. “We’re not here to please his every whim and cater to him like we’re his butlers. I say it’s a perfect time to wind down. We were just trading stories of getting shit faced.”

“All of you were,” Park corrected easily, “I don’t plan on sharing any such event.”

“Never say never, Park,” Lazar said, a grin playing on his lips as he winked at the British woman. “I’m sure a lady like you has quite a collection of stories.”

“A lady never says her secrets.”

You were still staring up at Adler as Sims playfully groaned at Lazar’s flirt tactics that Park didn’t seem to mind, Adler tilted his head down and met your eyes. Seeming to assess before turning his gaze towards the evidence board, which now had additional papers than previously since he entered the office, assessing. He than turned back towards you, you impatiently waiting as you shifted in your seat to see if he would let all of you continue, his eyes seeming to follow when your hand went to your jacket pocket.

Adler released a huff of soft exasperation, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t see the problem. We can all use a break from all of this.”

You practically beamed as Woods whooped, you moving a seat over where you were now next to Woods. Adler taking your seat as he sat by Sims now, opening his bottle as he asked whose story they were on. Sims continuing it and finishing before Lazar had another one. You listening with a smile or laughter, feeling the most at ease since this whole mission started you think. You believe that Adler must feel the same way, appearing relaxed as he sat and leaned back against the chair, beer forgotten and customary cigarette on his lips as he listened.

It made you want to take a picture of this moment. You standing up and announcing to the others you’ll do just that, Woods raising a brow at you.

“You and pictures. You a photographer or something? I hope you’ll at least show me what pics you took of me instead of those Red’s building.”

Your cheeks felt heated as you turned towards Woods, standing over him with fists clenched by your side as you called his name, askance. Making the man laugh at your expression, your irritation leaving you due to it but you gave him a warning look and call of his name which he caught. Not wishing for you to say the story, as Adler watched nonchalantly.

“Pictures? Got distracted again, Bell?” He asked, almost sounding like a tease only for the others to join in that you really loved that camera. You pursing your lips and appearing like you were pouting, as you turned away and got the camera from the Red Room quickly. Taking the picture of everyone only for Woods to motion his hand for it to your bewilderment.

“What? Don’t you want one with you in it too?” Woods asked, grabbing the camera from your hands as he grinned up at you. Adler and Park glancing at each other behind you, Adler flapping his cigarette hand uncaringly in answer. Mason raising a brow at the exchange but staying silent as his eyes moved back towards his loud friend.

You didn’t think of that but you stated you wanted one with everyone than, Park raising her hand for the camera to do the setting for it to be timed and placing it on top of Sims car he was working on earlier. All of you turning your chairs slightly, getting close with beers in hand and you trying to maintain a perfect smile even with Adler’s knee touching yours. The camera flashed, you feeling something by your head only for you to lightly punch Woods shoulder once you saw he must’ve gave you bunny ears in the photo. Him laughing away as you fought your own smile, his rugged charm rubbing off on you as Adler inhaled quietly as he watched the exchange.

The stories than eventually moved to mission stories, and than, unsurprisingly—to Vietnam. At this point, Park and Lazar retired for the night—Sims eventually doing the same when he noticed it turned to Vietnam. Which left you, Mason, Woods, and Adler—Adler just finishing up the story about what happened in Hue City, leaving a few details out you noted but loyally and wisely kept silent, as Mason took it in with a slight nod of his head.

“So that’s what happened on your side. Shit. . . that whole place was a shit show since the beginning. Lucky I only had to do a quick in and out by just getting a dossier.”

Woods snorted, nursing his fifth beer.

“That whole war was a shit show. Only good thing that came out of it is telling stories about it years later in a depressed warehouse. While a whole other type of war is happening.”

At the mention of the reminder of them losing that war, you spoke up.

“Not the only thing,” you couldn’t help but say, lost in thought as you looked at the ground.

Adler turned his head towards you as Woods and Mason did the same, curious.

“And what’s that, kid?”

You kept your gaze down for a moment more before flicking your eyes to the side towards Adler.

“We’re all still here, aren’t we?”

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Ȳ̶͇̝͐ó̶̘̈ṵ̴̡͑͒ ̴̯̗̅ŵ̴̭͘â̸̭̼̤n̵̼͚̘͑t̶̠̮̯́̏ ̶̭̝̱̄́̅ţ̶̠̑̈̚ǫ̶̳̉́ ̴̘͖͊͊͘ͅ ̵̡͋́ṣ̶̞̆̚ ̴͚̲̕ț̸̓ộ̴̍̐p̴̣͓̾́ ̴̫̗̆͜ḫ̴̛̦͓́́ẽ̴̛̻̋ṛ̵̲̞͈̅͠ę̷̼̯͔̍̌͌?̶̫̩̆͆

̷̼̈́

̵̣̽̉͛

̶̝͋͂B̷̝̾̾u̸͚͊̕ţ̷̛̭͖̈́̾ ̶̱͑̔i̷̩͇̤̐ṯ̴̪̓̓ ̷̜͊d̸̆͜į̶̩͔̉̏d̵͔̓͝n̴̨͇͒’̵̰͑́͂ţ̸̯̯͋ ̷̧͖̣̿̒e̴̥͋͝n̴̘̱̿̕d̸̛̤̹̔ ̵̡̡̩̈̐h̷̫͔͂͜ë̴̺̜́͑͊ȑ̶̺͉͠ĕ̴̥̉.̴͕̭͌̕͠

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̸͙͓̬̂͒͝Ë̶̼̙̭́͘̕ ̶̳͆v̵̱͙̿̋ ̴͔̇̋ę̷͚̫͆̃̈n̵̥̣͈̏̅ ̷͇̮͒͊ ̴̛̺ ̶̡͆t̶̢̘͒ḧ̷̺̉ě̸͓̼̂ͅ ̶̬̲̫̈b̶̟̪̒̒ę̵͊͝s̶̟̱̐ţ̴͙̳̆̚ ̶͔̈́d̸̝̭͑̈́͒o̸͖͑̓g̸̨͌̈́̀s̴̹̫̖͗̅ ̶̯̝͛ḷ̶̬̔͌̐i̷̘̥̓́k̴͕̓͝ĕ̷̡̿̽́ ̵̖͗̾͘ţ̵̟̤̈́́̽ö̴͖͕͙́͗͝ ̴̦̂͊͝r̶͉͈̊̆̔ų̴̝̋̈ņ̶̼͛ ̶̭̦́.̶͔̇̄

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̷̧̰̙̇͝B̶͕̐̐̓e̸̖̟̋ŝ̶̨t̵̗̎̀,̴̯̥̐̕ ̶͚͓̓̀́ť̶͐̂͜ŏ̸̢̿̉ ̵̨͎̄̿͆ć̷̣̓͑́ơ̶͔͓̋̿̔m̵̧̢̩̃ê̸̘̠̠ ̴̰̫͠͝ͅb̶͇̔̒ą̶̤̯̰̽͊c̸͈͗k̸̩͉͙̓̿ ̷̻̼̰͆ẃ̶̞͙̃͒͌ḧ̵̘͑̒̃e̵̜̰̓͘͝ń̶͙͒̚ ̵̪̖̥̊̈́ȑ̷̢̌̎ẽ̸̛͇̂ͅà̴̞̖̫d̸̤̺̽͛ỳ̴̰̊͝ ̷̠̌͝f̴̢́͊o̴͉̒͠r̷͕͙͙̽̋́ ̶͈̾̉t̴̥͒͘r̷͉̘̐́ų̸��̔̋́t̴̨͚́̾h̷̖͕̯̀̒͛.̵̫̟̬̄

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Bell”

Second Life

15:47| February 26, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

Soon after you said your thoughts to Adler about the file, you moved to go back to your desk only to pause by the T.V. You turned back, Adler raising a curious brow as he put out his cigarette with his ash tray nearby. You asked him for any other files he may need help with, Adler saying nothing as he reached another file by him and handing it to you. You grabbed it, your black leather gloved hand grazing against his bare one as you took it. Taking note of what he said about it before turning to your desk and staying there. Ignoring a probing stare in the back of your neck.

You’ll do what you must, but if he expects you to stay by his side when he inconvenienced you earlier by making you come to him. . . Well, you think a little petty action is worth it.

Besides, you have to think by yourself for a moment. The call about Volkov squeaking his rat mouth should’ve came already. By nighttime—you, Adler, and Park should already be on the way to Ukraine and meet up with Woods and Mason.

Woods and Mason, you think fondly with a sad smile of a whirlwind of a man drinking back beer after beer like water with a deep throated laugh and the silent soldier with sad eyes yet listens attentively and a kind smile that brightens. Oh, I’ve missed you guys.

They were barely in the safehouse, out in missions constantly when you would decode and just being the team’s powerhouse duo. When they were here though, the safehouse was louder. More easy and free, less stifling and grim due to the work they were doing. They had a certain charisma very different than Adler’s, one’s that captured you in a different manner so it is no surprise you managed to get close and hang with them more than anyone when they were here. Sims being distant, Park communicating with MI6 about the CIA, Lazar determined to woo the agent when he wasn’t cleaning and prepping weapons, and Adler was. . .busy watching you were in line you suppose.

Card games and stories being shared, Woods and Mason not seeming to mind when you were around them. You suspect Woods let you get close to make sure you don’t tell his precious secret and blunder back in the arcade room in Ukraine. Although you would tease him that you might at times.

You feel like that in your other life, Park was right. You don’t think those two knew about your situation. It just made you like them more.

Because at least with them, you’re positive it was real.

“I knew I could count on you.”

You wished they were able to save you from Adler though. But they were tired and celebratory of what they accomplished. They took in Adler saying you and him were just taking a detour at face value.

“Do not trust Adler. He is lying to you.”

Adler always lies.

You have to remember that. And to just brush away any kindness he may show.

It’s not real.

Is it?

A loyal and trained dog through and through.

When you saw it was nearing 1700 hours, you looked around where Park was. Seeing she was with Adler in the corner by the weights, conversing with him with a crease in her brow while Adler looked as if he was only mildly taking note of her words as he puffed along his cigarette. A trait of his you knew frustrated the British woman. Adler likes to feign disinterest a lot. It could be seen as a weapon to make others talk due to how irritating it could be or make one cautious at how apathetic the man can act or look.

You walked over to them, your ears getting the tail end of whatever was ailing Park.

“—not making light of this and reign it in. Oh, Bell.” Park’s tone softened, a sharp contrast that stood out to you as she noticed you step up to them. Adler not even glancing at you as he continued his smoke, or at least not turn his head towards you. It’s dark in this corner so you wouldn’t be able to tell if he turned his eyes towards you or not unless he moved his head or body in your direction. “What’s wrong? Any new updates on the decryptions?”

You shook your head, looking between the two of them before settling on Park.

“What’s the word on Volkov? He talk yet?”

Park sighed.

“I’m afraid not. He’s proved himself stubborn despite his tastes being similar to what makes the U.K. great.”

You cocked a brow, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“Medieval torture devices not his style?” You asked, calling back to what Park said about Volkov’s hobbies.

Park matched you, amused as she shrugged lightly.

“I believe the lack of scotch is what will do him in personally.”

“He has to talk soon,” Adler cut in, exhaling a puff as you and Park turned towards him. Adler faced Park, arching a brow as he continued calmly. “Your guys over there aren’t giving him a good time right now, I imagine. The last thing we need is for him to be tight lipped.”

Your throat turned dry. You think you regret mentioning this as Park answered.

“He’s not the type to remain loyal if his back is to the wall. His selfish demeanor and arrogance will what cause him to try to strike a deal with us. It will benefit us than him in the end once he breaks.”

“If he breaks,” Adler added with a frown. “If he still doesn’t talk by the next two days, we might as well have killed him once we saw him. He’s useless.”

“She’s of no use to us anymore.”

You swallowed, moving to pocket your hands in your black bomber jacket as your hands clenched along with your jaw.

Park frowned at Adler, disapproving.

“He knows a great many things. Not everyone can handle interrogation for so long and be able to stay silent about anything that might give them reprieve.”

Oh, look, you thought sourly, bitterness starting to rise once more as you maintained your blank expression besides your taut jaw. They’re complimenting me. How nice of them to say I wasn’t easy for them.

Control your tongue, you stupid dog.

Adler huffed, it almost sounding like one mixed with amusement and exasperation as he shook his head slightly.

“Perseus’ people are almost as slippery and conniving as Perseus himself. And dangerous.” Adler took another inhale and exhale, the smoke curling around them and going over your head as your gaze lazily followed it to distract yourself while Adler did the same, tipping his head up to watch. “Perhaps he knows if he talks, he might as well be dead. We don’t need an Aldrich in the MI6 either.”

Park’s demeanor straightened at Adler’s accusation, the possibility of having a traitor or spy in her agency a great insult. She was about to say a scathing retort surely, but you cut her off.

“He’ll talk,” you say cooly, unreadable gaze towards Adler as he finally turned his head in acknowledgement towards you.

“What makes you so sure?” He asked, curiosity lacing his tone along with intrigue as he moved to place his cigarette for another puff.

You straightened your shoulders as you stared deep into his aviators that shadowed him properly to be America’s Monster.

“They all eventually do.”

Adler paused his hand, lips not around his craving as he stared towards you. Both your gazes not breaking even as Park looked between the two of you before settling with staring at Adler with slightly narrowed eyes.

Adler pressed his lips, a whisper of a smirk as he did it and nodded towards you once more before turning back towards Park.

“You hear that, Park? No reason to worry. Everyone talks. Right, Bell?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, ignoring how your stomach churned yet your heart pounded. You’re no saint. “We both know how to make them.” You slipped out, knowing eyes not leaving his face as you twisted a knife.

Adler didn’t seem to notice, or care really as he seemed to throw Park a mildly triumphant look. You don’t know why it would. You wouldn’t either and can care less about those you tortured—whether false or real.

Monsters do not worry over every drop in the red ocean they created.

Y o u’r e  n o  s a i n t, д е м о н.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You had headphones in, listening to the audio log to finish up the decryption despite the lack of other Intel so you could put all your focus on Operation Red Circus. Instead of the exchange earlier, all of them.

So you didn’t hear when the garage door opened and a van to come in, but you did when it got slammed closed. You jumped in your seat in the corner on your desk, hidden behind the evidence board and the T.V. You lowered your headphones, curious to see what was going on and if Sims brought in another car, only for your breath to hitch in your throat. You standing up so quick your chair almost fell back as you stood next to the T.V., heart thundering only for it to stop as you stared avidly, wildly, madly, hopefully.

Adler moved his hand to guide the red van in, sighing out a puff of smoke as the driver came out.

“Hudson barely gave me any warning about this before you guys arrived. Didn’t think he was going to give the okay on this based on the latest call on Volkov.”

“Well, you know Hudson,” the voice that spoke was quiet yet deep with how it spoke in easy amusement. If one strains their ear, you could spot the reserved soldier with sad eyes and a kind smile. “Always the one that loves to talk.”

“Pfft, yeah,” this one, this one was all rough and throaty as if it got abused in the past from events unknown but one can guess. If one just takes a glance, you could discern the storm stuck in a body yet does a light drizzle for friends despite the thunder. “Hudson’s a real charmer. Don’t tell me that the Russian Godfather decided to finally open his mouth right when we got here.” At Adler’s nod, the one man army groaned. “Man, jet lag is going to be a fuckin killer! Forget hotels, I’m sleeping here until we head out.”

They’re. . . Your hands shook by your side. Not paying kind to Park who stepped out the Red Room, head turned towards you and approaching you as she called out to you. You only stared as you bit the inside of your lip.

Sims, who helped pull the van in and was now leaning against the side of it, shook his head amiably with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t do that unless you’re fine with a raggedy ass mattress that looks like hasn’t seen the light of day since the ‘60s.”

“I believe the ‘70s personally,” Lazar spoke up as he sat on his desk, empty plate of takeout near him. “It still has potential if one’s desperate.”

“Yeah, well I’m desperate. Now where is it?” He turned his head along with his friend, comrade, forever ally just as they took a few steps close to where Park’s desk was and seeming to notice you the first time. Adler tilting his head at you, you silently just staring at the two as if you haven’t seen them in years, puffing silently as his brow rose curiously. But you could only look dumbly, eyes feeling a little pressure. They’re here. “Who are you and what the fuck are you looking at?” Woods asked sharply.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

Your lips lifted into a smile before it opened, letting a loud bark of a laugh come out. You’re laughing.

When was the last time you laughed? Genuinely?

You could practically feel the stares, but you didn’t care. They’re here.

They were real.

Once your laughter calmed to chuckles and giggles, clearing the corner of your eyes for any possible tears, Adler stepped up between you and the two soldiers. Giving you a quick once over behind his glasses, you waving your hand at him dismissively slightly at his unanswered question, his brow furrowing before relaxing as he put an arm out towards you.

“Woods. Mason. This is Bell, my protege. I spoke to you about her before.”

You quickly fixed yourself and your expression as you took a polite step forward, you probably look absolutely insane. They don’t know you despite you knowing them. Calm down. You just didn’t expect that a change like the others would be this.  Oh god, you looked insane.

“Sorry,” you began, a tiny sheepish play to your lips, “I just—you guys are both legends and I just didn’t expect to see you guys here. At least, so soon. You could say I was a bit. . . excited to put it lightly. Hope I didn’t scare you off?”

Woods and Mason stared at you, Mason having distant amusement playing in his brown eyes as Woods non-subtly leaned towards Mason, a hand slightly covering his mouth.

“Careful Mason,” Woods falsely whispered as he eyed you with suspicion. “We have a rabid fan on our hands.”

“I think she can hear you,” Mason didn’t try to whisper but it didn’t matter as Woods suddenly snorted as he crossed his arms.

“Listen here, Bell. The last thing that’s gonna scare us is someone who got excited about seeing us like we were the fucking—what is it these days? Someone gimme a hand.”

“You talking about bands?” Lazar questioned, Woods nodding as he glanced behind to where the dark skinned man stood by his desk, Lazar staring up in thought. “There’s Fleetwood Mac still going on.”

“Not like how the Beatles was going on,” Woods answered, a little too seriously as you fought a smile while Mason moved and leaned against the evidence board.

“Hear there’s growing popularity with AC/DC and Kiss. They’ve been on the radio a lot lately.”

Woods swiped his hand back and forth as he made a sound of disgust.

“You comparing us to those guys that look like they came out of hell, Mason? What do we look like?”

“I think it fits,” Adler dryly stated, clicking his lighter on to light his cigarette. Woods telling Adler he’s not helping as Park came by next to you with a hand to her hip.

“If demons don’t work, there’s always the Queen. And I’m not talking about the one I serve.”

“Queen is pretty good,” Sims said from behind, “but you guys had to have heard that new song Celebration by the Kool and the Gang. That shit hits.”

“Whichever!” Woods turned towards you asking you how exactly you know about them, you answering honestly that you read up on them on the computer. Seeing no point in hiding it as Woods gave a vicious grin towards you. “Well, aren’t you a nosy little shit. You always read up on everybody?” You were once again honest, saying you like to be thorough with everything but you only had a brief description to go off about them. Whatever secrets they may have is safe with them. Woods sniffed, slightly backing off and Mason appeared to have relaxed his shoulders. “A nosy shit with manners at least. And balls to say all of that to our faces despite what you read.”

True, if you did not know Woods and Mason. Despite that one time where you truly felt their intimidating aura on you, once you get to know them, they’re softies that are loyal. Even with Woods barbed and vulgar words and Mason always observing quietly behind with an assessing look in his eyes, you know they’re shields. Walls. To help with whatever occurred before—just like everyone else here.

And, just like there’s walls. . .

“There’s no innocence here,” you answered, shrugging with a bitter smile.

Woods stared at you for a moment before guffawing, pointing in your direction as he turned to face Adler who stared at you behind his shades as he inhaled his addiction.

“Where’d ya find her, Adler?” Woods asked, before than flapping his hand. “Answer that later. I need food and to knock the fuck out for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You repeated, even though you already knew as Adler answered.

“Let’s go over the details briefly. You were right, Bell. Volkov talked.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You watched after the meeting how Woods moved, all loudness and an army in one body with the propriety of one would find in any soldier—none at all. Refreshing. Needed. Even though he looked at you strange when you offered to help with setting up his bed that was all dust and old in the storage room by the generator.

You wonder in the end, after the cliff, how Woods reacted after just saving you from a large sheet of metal debris. Is it naive thinking that he might’ve been mad?

You looked at Mason, more careful with your approach as you smiled softly at him while you gave him the quick rundown that everyone has a spot chosen for their work. That they could use the desk by where they put the projector if they want. Mason raising a brow at you but letting you once you wisely gave him his space.

Would Mason be furious? You were unlucky because you were under the wrong flag. You were born a Russian. If you weren’t than, maybe, they would’ve kept you like they did him.

Meanwhile, Adler—a gaze that never falters, and eyes that are all-seeing with how hawkish they could be, does he see(?)—observed you silently as you moved to and fro with an energy that wasn’t there before. And a smile that looks genuine. He sits back, and watches.

“Shame you were born in the wrong country.”

There’s a lot of shameful things that are tied to you. But like any good monster, any foolish Icarus, and any stupid girl—you’ll ignore them.

.

.

.

American pup—американский щеноk

American bitch—американская сука

You wish to be American, comrade—ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ

Demon—демон

I don't know if it's been too subtle--but Bell isn't exactly. . .mentally/emotionally healthy right now. Adler is just everywhere. But maybe Woods and Mason can help now by just being there.

I love those two a lot.

This Second Life of Bell is coming to a close soon, this has gone longer than planned but thank you for everyone that has been with me so far! ^///////^ Happy Late 6th Anniversary of Undertale that inspired this story's plot <3

I am having trouble contacting my beta due to Tumblr being stupid with messages. Maybe I can reach them here, please contact me on Discord under username: Animefreak1145 (Code #8517)

*PM me if you wish to be Tagged*

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[twisted-whispers]

Drider!Idia & Drider!Vil

Before you read: My own personal head-theories bleed through here and this is kind of a ramble (sorry!) - where driders eat their males after reproduction and are incredibly aggressive, any gifts given are seen as courting, are able to glamour themselves to blend in with human society, and have heats/ruts. If I decide to expand this AU there WILL be oviposition so just be warned.

                                         ****************************

Drider!Idia and Drider!Vil collaborating and living together in a rainforest mountain range near the small town you live in. Maybe their breed of driders are particularly hostile towards males and these two decided to go out on their own, the idea of being killed and eaten to reproduce a very unattractive idea to both of them - they rather disappear into human society than live a short life with their species customs.

You work part time at one of the only upscale stores in your town - while there is a decent population, the main attraction is the mountain range behind you and the activities nature provides. Known for hiking trails and gorgeous sights, people pass through or stop for a quick lunch and walk through your outdoor-mall before driving back to the more populated areas.

You’ve seen your fair share of customers but you’ve never seen anyone like these two men enter your store - he’s so anxious though, looking around like he’s about to jump out of the too-big, geometric-patterned jacket he’s wearing at a moment's notice. The other looks like he jumped out of a model magazine, his make-up and lavender-tipped hair in absolute perfection as he enters, looking around the store pointedly while his friend reluctantly skulked behind him. It’s almost comical when thunder roars as the store door closes behind them and rain begins to pour.

“Welcome! How can I help you two?” It’s only you in the beauty store for now, your other coworker is on lunch and  it’s empty and quiet, save for the three of you. While the blonde-beauty snaps his attention to you, his smile is unnatural but you chalk it up to his beauty and your own awkwardness. 

“What foundation do you recommend for sensitive skin, especially any with SPF?” The blonde asks fluidly and without any hesitation, motioning to his companion behind him. “Same with hair brushes, lotions…” His voice is hypnotizing, mentally shaking yourself before you lose your professionalism.

 “That's quite the list, let’s start with some of our cleanser and toners meant for more sensitive skin - I actually use this myself and have had excellent results. “ Leading them both over to your favorite brand, you help the two men pick out their own preferred brands and ointments and by the time you know it, it’s been a few hours. It’s still raining.

Between showing them around the store and offering your own personal and professional experience, “Vil” and “Smith” have relaxed substantially around you to the point where Smith no longer skulks around and stands between you and Vil, even asking you about the TV shows you watch, or games you like to play. You don’t usually have many IRL friends that share the same interests that you do, so chatting about the new expansion that came out for a game you play religiously is refreshing - apparently Smith just started and you offer to exchange usernames to help him level up faster. You’ve never seen someone go from a literal panic attack to talking non-stop about their interest, and the feeling leaves you feeling warm and happy. Vil leaves you two for a while, browsing the store by himself and picking a few extra products as well.

You’re explaining to Smith about the pre-patch coming soon to the MMO you both like when you hear a cough behind you, Vil reappearing and jingling the over-stuffed backset of beauty products.

“I think we’ve done enough damage and taken enough of their time, eh Smith-san?” Vil says gently - you nod to him in understanding and begin ringing him up at the register.

As your new friends pay for their trip to your store, another crack of lightning bolts through the sky with a gush of rain on your store windows. Vil frowns at the violent surge of weather and peaks at Smith, who smiles all too toothily at his friend and flips his hood over that stunning, blue hair.

You have an extra umbrella someone left at your store months ago and without hesitating, offer it to your new found friend. 

Bagging up their goods and wishing them a good day, you don’t notice the stunned expression they both shared, or how quickly they recover, accept the umbrella, and wave goodbye before being on their merry way. 

Once outside the store and out of view from prying eyes, both Vil and “Smith” chatter amongst themselves about what to do with you. They had never intended to interact too much with humans, yet here you are - offering them items to help them survive in the human world. Is this a human mating custom? Did you know what they were? Why are you so genuinely kind to them? You even shared the same interests as Idia and treated Vil with respect instead of eyeing him as a pretty arm piece to obtain. They begin to plan.

Luckily beauty products run out if used regularly, and the service at your store is nothing but outstanding. They also have to return the umbrella, after all - what a lucky coincidence to run into you again, they muse.

[fruitcoops]

Ok so maybe its too late but ive been re-reading some of your fics and one of them was sirius being disowned. We saw remus' recation, and also james', regulus', and dumo's. What about remus' family's reaction? WHAT WOULD HOPLE AND LYALL SAY? AND JULIAN?

It’s never too late for Lupin love! Thank you for such a lovely prompt <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Read the rest of the series here!

Sirius had never seen his mother-in-law so furious.

“We’re making a pie,” she said as soon as the door opened. No, not said—ordered.

“Okay.” He let them inside and immediately almost lost a few ribs to Jules’ hug. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

Jules stayed silent, swaying back and forth slightly with his eyes squeezed shut. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. What’s going on?” Sirius glanced back to the porch, where Remus was waiting behind his father with an amused look on his face.

Something clattered in the kitchen as Hope went through like a hurricane. “Remus John, where do you keep your stepstools?”

“Was the middle name really necessary?” Remus muttered as he stepped into the house. “We don’t have any stepstools, mom! What do you need?”

“A mixing bowl!”

“Hang on, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Sirius patted his lower back and headed toward the kitchen, still dragging Jules along on one leg. Hope’s classic low bun was lopsided from her efforts, and her gray-streaked flyaways practically levitated on their own. “Mixing bowls?”

“Three, please. Julian, you’re cutting off his circulation.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Sirius assured her. “How’s Wisconsin?”

“Cold, believe it or not,” she said with a wry smile as she gathered an array of familiar ingredients. “How’s everything here?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Not too bad. We’ve been—”

“Hattie!” Jules shouted gleefully, sprinting toward the back door at light speed. Hattie spotted him half a second later and exploded into a ball of joy; she flung herself into his lap and they scrambled around before running back outside.

“We’ve been good,” Sirius finished around his laughter. “The season’s picking up again soon, so we’ve both been busy.”

Hope hummed to herself, scanning his face. After a moment, she patted the counter with her hand and passed him a sifter. “Four cups of flour in the bowl, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They worked elbow-to-elbow for close to half an hour, keeping easy conversation through the noise of the rest of the house. Sirius usually hated small talk, but it was never awkward with Hope. She let it flow naturally and never took offense when he lapsed into general noises of agreement to avoid saying the ‘wrong thing’.

Sirius wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what she was doing. Starting off with friendly banter, doing an activity together, sprinkling gentle touches to his arm or elbow—it was a classic Lupin attempt at buttering him up before going in for the heart of the issue.

Less than five minutes into rolling the dough, Hope stopped mid-sentence and raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what I’m getting to, don’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Hm.” Her next push on the lumpy ball had a little extra force, and he felt the calm atmosphere start to sizzle. “I’m not angry with you.”

“I hope not.”

“I am rarely ever angry with you.”

“That’s good to know.” He passed her a little bit more flour and a small smile crinkled her eyes.

“You’re getting good at this. Won’t even need me, soon.”

“It’s not as much fun alone.”

Hope sighed and paused her steady kneading. “You are a wonderful young man, Sirius.”

“Thank you.”

“So I hope you’ll forgive me when I say your mother is a bitch.” Sirius mouth fell open a bit in utter shock, but Hope kept going, and her kneading grew even more aggressive. “The few times I’ve had the misfortune of hearing her speak, it has only been about hateful, horrible things. She doesn’t deserve a sweet boy like Regulus and she certainly doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

“Hope—”

She turned to face him and cupped his cheeks in flour-coated hands, pulling him down for a kiss to the forehead. “The greatest mistake of her life was not recognizing everything brilliant about you. We’re here for whatever you need, Sirius.”

He swallowed back the urge to dissolve into a puddle of tears right there on the kitchen floor. “You might have to arm wrestle Celeste for that.”

Hope patted his cheek with a twinkle in her eye. “We’ll coparent. Now put those big hockey muscles to work and help me roll this crust out.”

Remus poked his head into the room and tapped gently on the doorframe. “Knock, knock—”

“Who’s there?” Sirius asked, grinning at the withering look it earned him.

“You’re terrible. Can we switch? My dad wants to talk to you for a second.”

He looked to Hope, who huffed. “You’re stealing my employee.”

“I could help!”

“If you split the crust again, I’m reinstating your ban.”

Sirius turned to him with a wide smile. “You’re banned from pie-making?”

“It’s not official,” Remus grumbled as they swapped places. “But yes. Apparently, teaspoons and tablespoons are significantly different.”

“Yeah, honey, that’s why they have different names,” Sirius laughed, bending down for a kiss before he left them to their devices. Hopefully, the pie would still be intact when he returned.

Lyall was waiting in the living room, watching Hattie and Jules roll through the backyard in a mess of grass stains; he looked away from the window when Sirius entered, then crossed the room in three long strides and wrapped him in a hug. They were quiet for a few seconds before he stepped away and held him at arm’s length with a hand on each shoulder. “My wife is incredibly upset on your behalf.”

Sirius snorted. “I could tell.”

“We’re both very proud of you.”

His breath caught; hearing that from anyone was always overwhelming, but from someone like Lyall… “Thank you. That—that really means a lot.”

It wasn’t nearly enough words to express his gratitude (and his love, and his devotion, and his genuine relief that the Lupins thought he was good enough) but Lyall seemed to understand. With a final pat to Sirius’ shoulder, he tilted his head toward the kitchen. “You might want to rescue your husband before he gets smacked with a wooden spoon for stealing the filling.”

“Has he always done that?” Sirius asked as they walked out of the living room. “I kept thinking I was going crazy when the frosting started to disappear.”

“If it has even an ounce of sugar, it’s fair game. Jules seems to share that inclination.”

They entered the kitchen just as Remus popped an apple slice in his mouth and received a light whack to the back of the hand with Hope’s spoon. “No!”

“It’s good!” Remus protested.

“Lyall, are you done—oh, excellent!” Hope lit up when she saw them and shooed her son away from the bowl. “Sirius, please control your spouse.”

“I’ll do my best,” he laughed as Remus leaned up on his tiptoes for a kiss; his lips tasted like cinnamon, sugar, and home.

[adam-banks2024]

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago. 

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness. 

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.” 

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--” 

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.” 

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up. 

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face. 

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path. 

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

[neonponders]

Here’s part 1 and the soulmates comic that inspired all this.

I’d also like to thank the Harringrove community for giving me mutuals who enable the worst best part of me 💞 You’re all fantastic 💗

• • • • • • •

Steve’s teeth clenched as his shoulder blades hit the brick walls of the alley between the gymnasium and school building.

Their English class was only two doors down from an exit, and Billy Hargrove, of all people, gripped Steve’s jacket the moment he passed out of the classroom door, and hauled his ass outside.

Now Steve had a face full of California freckles that made the accompanying blue eyes look like tropical waters. Billy had been a menace ever since he got to this town, and all of Hawkins’ fields didn’t leave enough room for the both of them, apparently. Shoving Steve around during gym. Parking next to him like the noise of his frigging Camaro would eclipse the humble BMW’s existence.

Billy released him but stayed crowded in his space as he ordered, “Get a pen.”

“What?”

“A pen, Harrington. I know you have one.”

Yeah, I just failed a test with it, he thought bitterly, but he’d also been using it to talk to Billy Freaking Hargrove all morning. He pulled it out of his binder and bit the cap to push the end into it -

“OW. Don’t - ” Steve shoved him back a step, interrupting the zagged line Billy was scoring into his hand. Into Steve’s hand. “ - press that hard. Jesus Christ.”

He waved said hand in front of Billy’s face. “It’s real, all right? It’s me. It’s me! What? Did you expect to be taller than me or some - ”

Steve’s head knocked the brick this time when Billy shoved him back, fisting his shirt to the point of stretching the fibers

And kissing Steve’s mouth like he had the water in a desert.

Everything Billy did was aggressive, so he supposed this shouldn’t be much of a surprise, but 

But the stubble scraping against Steve’s chin sent sparks launching down his spine. Soft lips with a little edge of teeth, and Billy’s warmth radiating through their shirts into Steve’s chest...

He tried to lean forward, to adjust the kiss, to give his neck some space, but Billy caged him in. Steve’s nose pressed into his cheek and his hands found Billy’s denim jacket to get his own grip and shoved Billy back by his own kiss.

But the guy who doodled on his body, an artist who couldn’t eat cake and liked authors who waxed romantically - Steve’s special person - was a slab of muscle dressed in denim and leather. He held onto Steve’s front while his other hand framed his jaw and man-handled him back into place.

“Billy,” Steve tried. He stopped just shy of Steve’s mouth, like he intended to claim Steve’s oxygen as well as his space. “Gimme some space. There are bricks back here.”

Steve registers Billy’s pretty, long, long and pretty lashes moving before he sees the expression behind them. The look Billy has. Like he’s deciding between one type of aggression and another.

“You’ve been in my skin for years. You can handle some bricks.”

He starts kissing Steve again, and for all the good he’s giving, he gets spittle and laughter in return. When he finally retreats back to those millimeters of space, Steve giggles, “You’re so conceited, I swear to god.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

“I thought you were so sweet. Always drawing me things.”

“I have my moods.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Steve laughed breathily and pivoted his face before Billy could kiss him again. He wedged his jaw beside Billy’s neck and held onto the back of his jacket as he made the guy carry his weight.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you.”

“I always knew you were a sap.”

Steve smiled a little even if Billy did not see it. He leaned his head into Billy’s, feeling the soft pillow of his hair, the curve of his ear. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. I’m glad I did.”

Like Billy’s marking on his skin, Steve listened to his silence but felt his fingertips drawing on his backside.

And if Steve expected Billy to relax or be nicer to him

He was dead wrong.

Billy got worse.

Steve had been told more than once that he was needy, touchy-feely, thrived on attention, but Billy was something else. Steve woke up with a full rose drawn on his forehead. He was almost late to school from washing it off. Then Billy stole his lunch. Outright took Steve’s tray off the table and went who-knows-where; Steve had to get back to world geography class or he’d fail the class for too many skips.

Then came gym. Word had clearly spread that Steve and Billy were spoken for, and Steve had never witnessed teenage boys shower faster in his life. Steve glanced around, just now moving his soap bar over his arm while Billy smirked fondly at him from under his own nozzle. "For no reason, have you ever done anything sexy in public?"

"Ate a girl out during a homecoming game."

That knocked Billy's features down a notch, and Steve laughed, "I'm not blowing you in these disgusting bathrooms."

Billy scoffed and twisted his water off. "I guess it should've landed that you were a prude when you had to be somewhere without markings on your body."

Steve flicked his eyes at the ceiling, because Billy was hot - a fact he already knew, but now he had hours of experience writing all over that rippling skin. And Billy’s hair curled really pretty when it was wet.

Steve liked to practice decency, okay.

He did let his gaze drift and fall to land on him, though, when he replied, “I have standards. High ones. Maybe stop complaining and consider yourself fortunate.”

Billy lingered for a while longer, just absorbing that before strolling out of the communal shower.

Billy definitely got worse.

Grinding pens into his hand until Steve threw himself out of bed in the middle of the night to turn his light on and read: Come outside. Pool. 

And yeah, Steve marched his ass downstairs in his slippers and robe because it was his own damn house and he liked soft things. And because he genuinely didn’t know if Billy would or would not throw a rock at his window if he didn’t get dressed fast enough.

Billy had already found the control panel and turned the pool lights on. He took lethargic steps around the water as Steve slid the glass door closed and crossed his arms. “You know, I’m all for staying up late, but not for my sleep being interrupted.”

Billy ignored that to kneel down and wave a hand through the water. “Didn’t know you had a pool.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a bed too. You wanna use it?”

Billy laughed and stood back up - to start removing his clothes. “I want to go swimming first.”

Steve exhaled tiredly and let his face fall into his hands. “Billy, why am I out here?”

He got his answer in the form of Billy gripping the sash around his waist. He didn’t undo it, but pulled so Steve’s hips lurched forward. “What’s under this?”

“My tired ass that wants to sleep so I can keep up with the new kid in Hawkins.”

Billy chuckled and slipped his hand inside the folds. Steve bowed a little against the cooler hand wandering his bare skin. Cradling his naked waist. “What’s he like?”

“The wrong kind of pain in my ass.”

He’d caught Billy off guard with that one. Billy coughed a laugh and his chuckles dwindled as he let his perusal of Steve’s body loosen the robe. Then he pulled Steve to him so his mouth could press slow kisses over the slope of his shoulder. Steve’s head fell back when those lips found the tiny moles on his throat.

Steve’s arms encompassed him and he felt the familiar, soft press of Billy’s ear against his cheek. “I’m tired.”

“I want to swim.”

“You’re already naked. Go ahead.”

“You can’t think you’re going back inside without getting wet.”

“And you’re not getting in bed with me before rinsing in the shower. We’re both high maintenance.”

Steve swam in the pool.

Billy wore his robe and slippers into the house.

They showered together and, to Steve’s delight, Billy snuggled in close without putting his damp hair on Steve’s chest. The latter fell asleep with a large arm over his diaphragm and ocean breaths in his ear.

Steve woke up to the wet sensation of Billy drawing on his chest with his markers. Instead of opening his eyes, Steve mumbled, “If you’re drawing more penises...”

Billy hummed with mirth. “Just some unicorns humping each other.”

Steve earned a yelp when he reared up and tackled Billy to the bed. He kissed him silly and tasted his soul mate’s skin in his own bed. He made Billy’s hair a fluffy nightmare by the time he was through, and licked and sucked all of his muscles into jelly before he went to the bathroom to relieve himself...

Two birds under his collarbones framed a script spanning over his chest.

I can’t say sweet things. But you are beautiful.

[batgurl1989]

Bring On The Pasta

Summary: You and Henry became friends on the set of the Witcher. Now he wants to take you out to catch up. As friends?

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: None. Fluff

A/N: This is a one shot that came to me while out driving. It has not been beta tested, so all my mistakes are my own. If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know

Taglist: @rmtndew​ @princesssterek

You noticed your palms were sweaty as you waited by the front door. You tried to smooth out your sundress, but your hands were shaking so much it didn’t so much good. Glancing in the hall mirror, you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Sighing, you finally admitted to yourself that you were nervous.

It wasn’t every day a celebrity noticed you on set. You supposed you couldn’t say that anymore. As during the filming of season one of the Witcher, Henry had noticed you. And after that it seemed like he made a point to notice you every day. After all, you were around each other an awful lot, what with you being the assistant to the stunt coordinator. Mostly that meant just checking the weapons were in the condition they needed to be in and where they needed to be. It didn’t mean becoming friends with the star of the show. But that is exactly what happened.

It started off with inside jokes about how hard Mark Henson would be working the actors that day, but quickly morphed into taking short breaks together, and learning about each other’s families. It helped that you were a huge nerd as well, and you both loved World of Warcraft. Even if you didn’t have time to stop and talk, you were always yelling things from the game at each other in passing.

When filming had wrapped, and you had to move on to another project, Henry had insisted on exchanging numbers. You know in case you wanted to hop on WoW at the same time and do a raid. It seemed totally innocent at the time, and you had taken him up on raiding together a few times. But then he started texting you about other things not related to the game or video games in general. The texts were sporadic and sometimes at odd times because of the time zone differences. But a lot of them were about how he wanted to see you again outside of work. Just to catch up.

So here you were, back in England, waiting for him to “swing by” and pick you up. In an attempt to keep things casual, you had gone for a more casual look with a sundress and light cardigan. Your hair was swept up in a ponytail, with loose strands free to do what they wanted. Your hair had always been unruly like that. This would be the first time you and Henry would be alone together without a buzzing set around you, and you didn’t want him to think you got the wrong idea.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when there was light rapping on your door. Taking a moment to calm down, you plastered a smile on your face, and opened the door. And there he stood in all his handsomeness. His blue eyes lit up when he saw you, and a smile broke out on his face, showing off his sharp canines.

“It’s so good to see you again.” You said, stepping outside into the rare sunny day. You made sure the door was locked, giving yourself the chance to silently celebrate that he was also casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair wasn’t coiffed the way it usually was on the Witcher press tour, allowing for his curls to come out. One curl hung over his forehead, but he didn’t seem to care.

“It feels like forever since we saw each other last.” Henry pulled you in for a surprise hug. You had only hugged once before, on the day shooting wrapped. But you had to admit, this one felt so much better. A hello hug was better than a good-bye hug, you decided. “Have you had a chance to play WoW?”

“Not as often as I like.” You admitted, adjusting your purse on your shoulder as he led you to where his car was parked on the street. His hand on the small of your back was warm, but you didn’t mind the heat that seemed to roll off him. He held the door open for you, ever the gentleman, and you got in. You watched as he came around the hood of the car, admiring him not for the first time. Once he was settled into the driver seat, and had started the car, you asked, “Have you?”

“Same as you, not as much as I would like.” He laughed, putting the car in gear. Before turning to head out on to the road, he turned to you. “I hope its okay that I made us a reservation at an Italian restaurant?”

“Bring on the pasta.” You grinned. He flashed you a matching grin before pulling out onto the street.

As you drove through the city, Henry kept his arm resting on the centre console, his hand casually on the gear shift. You sat in comfortable silence as quiet music filled the car. It gave you time to notice that your nerves had calmed down since he had arrived. It was something you had noticed when you were on set as well. Being around Henry always seemed to ground you, making it so you could think straight.

“Do you want me to turn it up?” Henry gestured to the radio. At your look of confusion, he laughed. “You’ve been humming along with this song the whole time it has been on.”

“Have I?” Your eyes went wide. You were mortified. How had you not noticed that you were humming? It was something you were known for doing, but usually you noticed, and never did it around people who didn’t you.

“It’s okay. No reason to be embarrassed.” Henry patted your knee, trying to comfort you. When he pulled his hand away, you found yourself missing his touch. “It’s cute.”

Just when you felt yourself calming down, he had to toss that out into the open. Turning your attention to the window, you ran over a list of reasons you were just friends with Henry. Just because he thought your humming was cute, didn’t mean he thought you were cute. It didn’t mean he was attracted to you in the same you were to him. It didn’t mean anything. Then why did your heart keep beating at such a fast pace?

“And we are here.” Henry announced as he pulled into the parking lot of a little Italian restaurant that looked more like a mom-and-pop shop than one of the chain restaurants you were expecting him to take you to. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I promise it is better than what the other places could cook.”

“Oh, I believe you.” You had always been a big believer in independently owned places over big chains. It seemed the food was always more authentic, and the atmosphere more comfortable and relaxed. You were eager to try this place out.

Henry’s hand found its way to the small of your back again as you walked into the restaurant. The hostess looked like she was going to faint when she saw who it was at her hostess podium. Henry was very patient as he waited for her to get her bearings. As she showed you to your table, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him, unless it was to give you a suspicious look. Luckily, she sat you far away from the door, in a secluded booth.

“Your waiter will be… right over.” She struggled to get out before dashing away. Your eyebrows shot up in concern as you watched her walk right into a table. She recovered though and made it back to her podium.

“I’m sure you are used to that reaction.” You turned your attention fully back to Henry. He nodded, his focus already on you. You pulled at your cardigan, trying to straighten it, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “Is something wrong?”

“Far from it.” Henry’s smile reached his eyes in the most genuine way. He reached across the table to take one of your hands. His fingers tracing patterns over your palm. “I’m so glad you wanted to go on a date with me.”

“This… is a date?” You practically whispered as realization sank in. Those texts of his saying he missed you and he wanted to take out for dinner when you got home were his way of asking you out. You thought he just wanted to see a friend, but you know what they say about hindsight.

“Did you not want it to be?” Henry, who always seemed to confident, suddenly didn’t. He started to pull his hand away, not wanting to make you comfortable with his forwardness, but you caught his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze.

“No. It’s not that.” You admitted, a blush painting your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes search your face for something. An answer possibly. And you couldn’t keep him waiting, so you sighed deeply, trying to get up the courage to say what you were thinking. You had never had that problem before with him, which was probably why you were so comfortable around him. Finally, you brought your eyes back to his. “I just never thought it was a possibility for you and me… to go on dates.”

“It’s definitely a possibility.” Henry said earnestly, his thumb stroking over your wrist. You were positive he could feel your pulse racing, but for the first time since meeting him, you didn’t care if he felt what he did to you. “Do you want it to be a possibility?”

“I definitely do.” Your gaze was steady, your words weighed down with the truth. His hand gave yours a gentle squeeze, his smile brightened his face. You guess you said the right thing. It certainly felt like the right thing to say. Internally you were doing a happy dance. The man you had a crush on, apparently had a crush on you too.

“Then yes, this is a date.” Henry nodded. It was final. This was officially a date. He pulled his hand back and began to flip through his menu.

You followed suit but couldn’t help your eyes wandering off the pages and over to Henry. At one point he caught you and winked. You ducked behind your menu as you felt your blush blaze to life again. As you read about the penne a la arrabbiata, you couldn’t help but wonder if this would become a regular thing when your schedules allowed. Would Henry eventually become your boyfriend. Whoa! You backed off that thought quickly. It was way too soon to be thinking like that.

“Don’t worry.” Henry’s voice rumbled across the table. You peaked over the top of your menu to find him looking at you, a small smile gracing his face. “I’m thinking about it too.”