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sunonyoreface · 2 years ago

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He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 2

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 3338

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: military setting, violence, explicit language, sexual harassment.

PT3: https://at.tumblr.com/sunonyoreface/he-knows-simon-ghost-riley-pt-3/qgt9szb2sixk

“Don’t let her out of your sight. Got it?” Captain Price lectures soap as we eat breakfast together. It’s the third talk he’s gotten in the last day about the responsibility of keeping a “hostage”. I don’t know that I’d classify myself as a hostage though, however, something tells me it's just a legality and that there’s less paperwork for hostages than prisoners. That is if this ever gets written down on paper.

“Understood,” he says seriously. It’s only when he talks to price, that he uses this tone. Even when Soap tells me what to do, he doesn’t use a commanding voice. There’s always an edge of humour to his tone. It makes being around him actually bearable in this gloomy place.

They’ve been discussing protocol over bacon and hashbrowns. I’m surprised they’d do so while I’m present but nevertheless, I’m here. They cover everything ranging from where I’ll sleep to what happens when they’re out on a mission. No stone is left unturned.

I don’t have to wear cuffs at the table, however, everywhere else, they stay on. I eat whenever my babysitter eats. Using the washroom has to be approved beforehand and I’m supposed to sleep cuffed to one of they’ll hear if I try to escape. Which is a flawed system in my opinion because If I wanted to hurt them, that’s when I’d do it. However, Ghost apparently determined I’m not a physical threat. Apparently, I am a flight risk though. And apparently, that means I don’t get the privilege of wearing shoes.

When they’re on a mission, I’m to be locked in one of the interrogation rooms with surveillance. I’m guessing those were the rooms on the other side of the hall and not the one I was in yesterday. Part of me wonders why they didn’t want my investigation recorded. Another part of me knows it's probably because they didn’t want a record of me on file if they had to dispose of me. Then, I also asked myself why I had to sleep in the same area as the crew and not in the interrogation room, but maybe surveillance is easier when they don’t have to watch a screen all day.

Ghost sits beside Price at the metal picnic table while Soap and I sit on the opposite side. The other men are sitting at one of the adjacent tables, talking amongst themselves quietly. He doesn’t eat breakfast. Because eating breakfast would mean taking off his mask and I’m getting the impression he doesn’t do that all too often. At least around other people.

Instead of eating, he intently pays attention to Soap and Price’s conversation. His dark eyes flicker between the two as they take turns talking, largely remaining on Soap. I’ve noticed the two of them kind of follow each other around throughout the day. Last night, Soap made sure the cot next to him was open for Ghost. Then this morning, when Soap and I sat down to eat, it wasn’t long before Ghost found his way to our table despite skipping breakfast. I don’t mind Soap, but Ghost sets me on edge.

Just as the thought enters my mind, Ghost’s intense eyes make contact with my own. He caught me watching him. I freeze in surprise. His eyelids narrow with suspicion as he reads my expression. Nothing is innocent to him. Every movement, every gesture has some ulterior motive and he makes it his duty to reveal them. Even in the day’s early hours, he’s as alert as ever. I quickly break eye contact to stare at the last few hashbrowns on my plate.

I eat one potato at a time to keep myself occupied as the men talk. When I finally finish, I look up from my plate to realize Ghost is still staring at me, analyzing every movement. His cold gaze sends a chill down my spine. It's becoming clear to me that my interrogation didn’t end last night. No. He is as suspicious of me as ever.

Why did he clear me if he isn’t convinced, I’m innocent?

“So, when we move bases today, she stays with you the whole time. At any point do you uncuff her?” Price’s voice catches my attention as he mentions moving bases.

“Negative, sir,” Replies Soap. I get the feeling Price doesn’t necessarily trust him to watch me based on the amount of detailed instruction he provides Soap.

“Good. And the blindfold stays on ‘til we’re at the forward operating base,” he says. Soap’s leg bounces under the table and I can tell he’s tired of this conversation. Price is underestimating his abilities.

“Yes sir.”

“Right then. See you boys at 0700,” Price takes his place as he leaves the table. I catch the tail end of a shared look between Soap and Ghost, confirming my suspicions about them being close. I wonder what Ghost thinks about Soap taking on babysitting duties?

Last night while I was showering, Soap collected a few pieces of clothing for me that the men were willing to part with: a pair of wool long johns that I tied at the waist and cuffed at the ankles, a pair of thick socks, boxers, and a long-sleeved shirt that falls mid-thigh and fits like a dress. Several weeks ago I’d tell you I didn’t like the way shirt dresses looked, but today I’m just thankful for something that covers more than my ratty tank top. From what I can tell, I’m the only woman here and it’s made me significantly more conscious of what I’m wearing. I’m thankful for the full coverage and weary of any lingering eyes.

“Can you watch her for a second? Gotta hit the lavvy,” Soap asks Ghost.

“Not my job,” he answers plainly.

“Just watch her, will ya?” he quips back, leaving before Ghost has the chance to refuse. I watch Soap walk away before turning my gaze back to my empty plate. Suddenly the two tiny crumbs are worth analyzing in great detail to avoid making eye contact with Ghost. I feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to look up.

“Get up,” Ghost’s orders are quiet, but I’m not mistaken about who they’re for. He directs me to follow him with a slight nod toward the door. I quickly follow behind him, speeding up my pace to keep up with his long legs. I place my dishes in the bucket beside the door before leaving back to the sleeping quarters. Price mentioned we leave at seven, so it can’t be much longer until the team has to go.

After we exit the cafeteria area, he motions for me to walk in front of him. He did this yesterday too, ensuring I can’t sneak up from behind and attack him. Ghost is incredibly observant of his surroundings. Not only that but people’s body language as well. There’s nothing his sharp eyes miss.

“Pack your things,” he says as we enter the quarters. Except I don’t have anything to pack. I have a single blanket and a pillow that was lent to me last night, but I don’t even know that I’m supposed to keep them. Even if I can I don’t have a bag to pack them in.

“I don’t have a bag,” I mumble.

“What’s that?” Ghost asks, his voice tighter when he talks to me than Soap. He’s annoyed I’ve been passed off to him.

“I, uh, don’t have a bag to carry them.”

“For fucks sake,” he mutters under his breath. “Like looking after a fucking child.”

His harsh words sting, but all I can do is stand here and pretend to not hear them. Ghost rummages through his duffel bag until he pulls out a plastic shopping bag. He wordlessly extends his hand with the bag. His harsh eyes carefully watch as I process his actions and take a weary step forward to grab the bag.

“Thank you,” the words are timid and quiet. I don’t know enough about Ghost to gauge what his actions will be. Although he’s been relatively civil to me, he clearly also has a temper that boils just under the surface. And until I know what triggers that temper, I’ll be walking on eggshells around him. If I’m smart, I’ll walk on eggshells around all of them. These aren’t ordinary men after all and to treat them as such would be a significant lapse in judgment.

Ghost doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he ignores my words and turns back to his bag, packing up the last few items and articles of clothing from his space. Last night, I slept on the floor between his and Soap’s cot. This morning I neatly folded and rolled my blanket up and placed it on the pillow. Now, they only take a moment to stuff in the bag.

I find myself feeling directionless. I take a seat on the floor beside the cot and watch Ghost as he starts to check and clean his pistol. He sits on the edge of his cot now with his feet planted firmly on the ground. The gun looks small in his hands as he methodically disassembles it and lays the parts on the folded bed. His posture is relaxed and his broad shoulders slouch ever so slightly. He attends to each part of his weapon with care, cleaning the barrel and assuring every moving part is working. Ghost then unloads and reloads the clip before sliding it back into place.

“You left without telling me,” Soap’s tense, but familiar voice fills the room. Ghost mutters something indiscernible under his breath.

“I’m not waiting forty minutes for you to take a shit,” he says bluntly. I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of my lips.

“It was not forty minutes,” Soap sounds mildly offended and as though he’s reconsidering how long he was gone. “Oh, you think that’s funny now, do ya?” his attention turns to me. I bite the inside of my cheek to hide the smile and shrug my shoulders.

“Nope,” I say simply. I feel another pair of eyes on me and make an effort not to pay them any attention.

“Whatever,” he says grabbing his pre-packed duffel bag. Soap grabs a black fabric bag that looks like the balaclavas they all wear, but without the eye holes. “Put this on, you’re not allowed to see where we’re going,” he hands me the mask.

I take one last look at the sleeping quarters before sliding the mask on. The fabric’s soft, but I hate not being able to see. I’m transported back to being held captive by the last group of men who blindfolded me often. When they’d move me from room to room, I wasn’t allowed to see my surroundings. One of the men would get impatient with me as I blindly walked without a guide and occasionally push or shove me. Several small cuts and bruises remind me of his impatience.

“Here,” Soap’s hand lightly taps my shoulder as he offers to help me up. I grab his calloused hand as he pulls me up from my spot next to the cot. His other hand gently grabs my shoulder to steady me, before quickly letting go. “There ya go,” he says softly.

“Thanks,”

“I’ll save ya a seat LT,”

I’m grateful for soap as he guides me through the halls of the base with a gentle hand on the back of my arm. He’s patient: not yelling or shoving me if I don’t walk fast enough. A stark change from how I was treated before. When we get to the vehicle, he helps me up the steps and to a chair.

I hear several of the other men already waiting and I know for certain the layout isn’t the same as a traditional car. This is a military vehicle. A transport van of some sort maybe? From what I can tell there aren’t multiple rows of two to three seats like in a car. Instead, there’s a row of seats connected to the frame of the vehicle that align parallel with the road. Everyone sits shoulder to shoulder and faces the person across from them in the van.

More men pile in and I hear several new voices. There are definitely more of them than just the crew who found me last night. Soap takes a seat to the right of me and I become aware of just how little space there is in here. His warm thigh presses against mine as he straps himself in.

“Here,” Soap presses a metal clasp of some sort into my hand. I grab onto the tiny piece unsure of what to do with it. I tense up when he reaches across me and grabs a strap from behind my left shoulder. His arm involuntarily brushes against my chest as he does so. “Clip these together,” he presses the second half of the clasp in my hand and I blindly fidget with them until they seem to lock together.

“Is this right?” I ask quietly as I hold the latch out for Soap to see. I’m conscious of the other men who are loading into the van. I wish I could melt through the walls and disappear from their sight. I know I’ve been the topic of conversation the last twenty-four hours and now I’m right here for them to examine. The blindfold is almost nice because while I know they’ll be staring at me, at least I won’t know for sure.

Soap grabs the latch from my hands and gives it a tug. “Looks good,” he says. “Should tighten it though,” he grabs the straps closest to him and starts to adjust them. They don’t sit like a normal seatbelt. Instead, each strap wraps around your shoulder and waist to connect in the center of your stomach. The last person sitting in this seat was a man much larger than myself wearing a bulletproof vest and various other tactical gear; they need to be almost fully tightened to fit properly against my frame.

“Ghost, can you get the other strap?” Soap asks. My ears tune in to a heavy pair of approaching footsteps.

“Negative,” a deep voice says, but a new pair of hands grabs the straps on my left side. His gloves brush over my collarbone as he grabs the belt and pulls it tight. He’s more efficient at adjusting the straps than Soap, finishing sooner despite having started last. Once they’re both finished, Ghost takes the seat immediately to my left.

Like Soap, Ghost’s arm and thigh press into my own. The van is designed to fit as many people as possible in a limited space. Touching is inevitable. My heart rate picks up at the close proximity to the two men and my entire body is completely tense. I hold my hands together in my lap with my nails pressing down hard into the palms of my hands. I can already feel the marks they’re going to leave.

The two of them remain silent, however, the other men converse amongst themselves. They’re upbeat conversations. They almost sound excited about this next mission. One last man climbs into the van before the door slams shut.

“All aboard?” I recognize Price’s voice from the front of the vehicle. All of the side conversations come to an immediate halt at the sound of his voice.

“Affirmative,” Ghost’s loud response rings in my ears as he shouts back to his commander.

“Then we’re off!”

Conversations pick up again once Price finishes speaking. Minutes pass before someone across from me switches the topic of conversation. He starts talking to one of the men beside him. I can make out the first man’s words, however, the second one speaks with a low tone that is hard to depict.

“So what’s her deal, Soap? How badly did you fuck up to get that job?” The first man turns his attention to Soap. He’s saying less than he knows. Everyone knows why I’m here. It’s not like there’s an abundance of gossip or girls hanging around their base. When there is, they’re sure to be talked about. This man is fishing for more information from Soap. I feel his shoulders shift as he sighs. He expected this to happen, but not so soon.

“Didn’t fuck up anything,” he responds.

“No? They promoted you to babysitter for doing a good job? Might as well be a fucking lavvy queen,” this earns a few chuckles from the growing audience of men. They’re all curious. I’ve felt their eyes on me since the minute I stepped foot on their base. They’ve been waiting for someone to make the first move. All this fuss, yet no one has acknowledged me directly. Not yet anyway. I can’t imagine it’ll be long until they do. I haven’t been told not to interact with them. But I know better.

“Doesn’t matter,” says Soap dismissively.

“Right then,” says the man. It’s quiet for a moment, the conversation almost seeming to come to a stop. Until the man speaks up again. “And since when did we start bringing prisoners on missions?”

“Well, she ain’t technically a prisoner, right?” Another man chirps in.

“Either way, I don’t see why she’s coming with us,” Says the first man. All of the remaining side conversations have come to a stop. All attention is on Soap, the man across from us, and myself.

“Captain’s orders,” Soap replies. Surely Price is listening to the conversation now that his name’s been dropped.

“He order you to watch after her too, or is that something you volunteered for?” I feel Soap grow tense next to me as his frustration builds.

“Was a mutual agreement,” he deflects again.

“Yeah right,” someone else chimes in. “Who would volunteer to look after a prisoner?”

“Well I don’t know,” the first man drawls out in a suggestive tone as though he’s putting some real thought into his response. “Take the bag off and I’ll tell you if I’d volunteer,” my blood runs cold from his comment and the air catches in my throat. He earns a couple of snickers from the surrounding men, but they’re quickly cut short.

“That’s enough,” Ghost's commanding voice booms through the van, reverberating through my chest and bouncing off the metal walls. Everyone freezes and the only noise that can be heard is the crunching sound of tires on gravel.

“Sorry sir,” The man responds, but Ghost doesn’t acknowledge him. An awkward silence fills the space for several long moments before a few quiet side conversations begin to fill the space once more. I don’t hear the man across me talk for almost the rest of the ride. Ghost’s sharp correction is enough to shut him up for a considerable amount of time. His men know better than anyone, not to piss him off.

Neither Soap nor Ghost says anything for the rest of the ride and I’m left to wonder about why he put a stop to the conversation. Sure, it made me extremely uncomfortable. But to the other men, it wasn’t more than mildly inappropriate. They say more crude things to each other every day without repercussion. So why would Ghost step in now? Why bother using his rank to stifle a meaningless conversation?

The rest of the ride is long and uncomfortable. My nerves are on edge now knowing how the men of this crew think of me like a piece of meat. I don’t know what I expected. I’m exhausted and all I want is to be able to fall asleep, but my heart is racing too fast and I feel like they might start talking about me again at any moment.

The entire time Soap and Ghost press into the sides of my body and while at first it was uncomfortable, I’m glad it’s the two of them rather than the other men in the van. The warmth from their bodies is strangely comforting – safe, almost.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod ghost #ghost imagine #soap cod #soap x reader #ghost x reader #MW2 #COD MW2 #mw2 imagine #MWII #cod price

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 1 month ago

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WIP Wthursday

meant to post yesterday and then forgot bc of who i am as a person so, whoops. anyway, current state of affairs

embroidery:

absolutely 0 progress on the Hermit since i last posted it in like mid september. whoops. i WILL finish this thing by veilguard i swear but for some reason it's just grueling every step of the way. meanwhile, i'm banging out this mini version of The Tower in like 4 days. I want to post the pattern/thread colors I made for my big design, but i feel guilty selling a pattern for a piece where i hand-dyed at least 5 of the colors involved. So I'm making a second version with only commercially available colors as an alternative (and a slightly less saturated background), and I'll include both color guides as options.

haven't made any new digital designs/patterns since the last one of the qunari dialogue symbol. considering making a new one for another piece of art to copy out, but currently unclear on how to get the proportions for the frame accurately copied into photoshop because I want to try an oval frame instead of circular so... yeah. we'll see.

writing:

went digging through my old WIPs folder and found a k!meme prompt fic for Lavellan getting hit by a truth spell that I'd basically almost finished and then just... completely forgot about I guess? it's a silly premise and under 15k so it must have just poofed from my brain when I moved and lost track of all my then-projects.

Just the memory sends a flush down the back of her neck, her heartbeat skipping inside her chest like a stone over water. She can almost feel it, even here, her legs aching after a days of travel. The warmth of his body against hers in the cold air of the mountains. The unexpected passion of their kiss, the pressure of his lips crushing against her own, driving all other thoughts from her mind. The way just beforehand he’d still hesitated, almost tearing himself away. That’s the real problem, she thinks to herself, as she tries to ignore the wet slapping noise the drenched fabric of her robes makes with every step. She just can’t reconcile the intensity of his words with the way he keeps drawing himself back again. Every time she considers making another move, she can’t help but think that maybe it will be what convinces him she’s not worth the trouble after all. Ar lath ma, he’d told her, despite it all. She has no idea how to respond to something like that.

the first two and final chapters are entirely finished, while 3/4 are more disjointed segments that need some fleshing out. but i'll probably just go ahead and post the first bit soon because why not. maybe that'll push me to clean it up faster. i'll also be honest. half of this fic is like... the prompt premise, and the other half is just. me wishing i was out backpacking. i wrote it the summer of lockdowns when i went from working outside 5 days a week to bedroom WFH prison, and its funny rereading now like. oh yeah so i was going fully insane about not being the one camping myself, huh.

Anyway. otherwise I also started another new short thing for my still currently nameless No-Longer-Lavellan from reunion, but it's only a couple hundred words and some vague notes so far. Not sure if I'll turn it into something more polished or leave it as general musings. I wish I could draw better because I have way more concrete visions for visual art for that whole scenario but, alas.

#and another 2 half-baked ideas im not sure if i'll go somewhere with or just keep as jokey musings #anyway nothing like opening various WIP folders reading the sex scenes and going hm. i can do better than that. and rewriting half of it #and then just saving and closing and leaving it to rot once more #ah well #sorry i never post Fallout from the Fade snippets in these posts it just feels kinda mean to tease anything #when im not sure when theyll ever get posted #ramblings #wips #wip wednesday #my stuff #my writing #my embroidery

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c0smic-dawn · 1 year ago

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FLY HIGH | Chapter 5: Best of the best

Hogwarts. It was a place many of the students could call their second home; Their home away from home even. (Y/n) wasn’t an exception to this, hell, she could even call it her only home. It was the place where she found people that made her feel safe and excited to face a new day. It was the place where she learned how to put her magic to work. It was the place that she found her undeniable talent for Quidditch.

She’ll never forget the feeling of flying for the first time. Not only because Soonyoung nearly knocked her off her broom, but because it was the first time she felt so free. Gliding through the air and feeling the breeze hit her face.

When she learned about Quidditch it didn’t interest her much. She was far more interested in messing with Seungkwan and Chan when she could. It wasn’t until Mingyu begged her to help him to practice for try outs that she felt an intrigue to the sport. It also just so happened that the captain stumbled upon their little practice match and instantly scouted the two. (Eventually Hoshi tried out due to fomo and made it as well.)

(Y/n) never expected Quidditch to become such a big part of her life, but fate works in funny ways. She’ll never forget running up to her parents and telling them that she made the team and won almost every game that first season. It was the one time she’d seen them take genuine interest outside of work and in her instead. Though, it didn’t last long. While they were happy to flaunt they had a prodigy keeper as a daughter, that’s all they ever did. It was back to the same old routine of going home to an empty house at the end of every school year despite their “love” for their daughter’s new found talent.

That’s why the girl soon chose to focus on her own life. Her friends that had become her family and the sport that she felt was the only thing she could do without worry.

So when the news of potentially not being able to play for the season was broken to her, she panicked. This was one of the things she held dear to herself. The thing that made her feel like everything was right in the world. She needed to do something and do it fast.

Studying by herself obviously wasn’t the answer. Mingyu definitely wouldn’t help. Don’t even think about Soonyoung. Vernon? Already denied and she knew the others would follow in suit.

That’s why when Hoshi pitched to her the idea of asking one of Vernon’s housemates, she was over the moon.

It was genius.

The sound of quick footsteps echoed in the somewhat empty hallway leading to the grand hall. Everyone was happily chatting with their friends and sitting at each other’s house tables enjoying the peaceful morning.

The sound of someone fast approaching was quick to catch the attention of a certain friend group (who were happily chatting beforehand).

“(Y/n)? What took you so long?”

The rest of the boys look up to see an extremely excited looking (Y/n) approaching after Jun acknowledged her fast impending figure.

Chan’s eyebrows instantly furrowed when seeing the ecstatic look on the Gryffindor’s face, “for someone who woke up late you look weirdly happy…”

(Y/n) swiftly plopped down in between Soonyoung and Mingyu; That also happened to be conveniently across from Hansol.

“What? A girl can’t be excited to see her friends on such a fine morning such as this one?”

The table’s eyes instantly narrowed in slight suspicion (minus Mingyu who was too busy staring at the girl with stars in his eyes).

Seungkwan instantly spoke up, “Okay. What’s the deal? You are never this happy in the morning.” The Hufflepuff cut to the chase making the girl huff and cross her arms,

“Not true.”

“Yesterday morning you kicked Jun’s shin for asking for a bite of your toast.”

“One, I already apologized for that. Two, we all know how I am with food.” (Y/n) pointed out. Seungkwan simply just rolled his eyes as Jun rubbed his shin under the table at the memory of the previous morning.

Soonyoung then spoke up, “is this about the idea I pitched to you last night?” He asked while munching on some cereal.

“Oh god. That can’t be good,” Chan muttered under his breath causing Jun to elbow him slightly as a way of saying ‘Don’t be rude’. Both their attention turning back to the gryffindor trio sitting opposite of them. Mingyu’s eyebrow furrowing in slight confusion at the mention of a plan he wasn’t a part of.

“What idea?” He questioned.

The (e/c) eyed keeper instantly had a grin crawl across her face as she pointed her line of sight at Vernon. The boy quickly looked around in a slight panic once in the sights of the girl. (Y/n)’s grin grew at the reaction.

“Oh, just an idea on how to help me study.” She chirped.

Vernon instantly untensed at the line and let out a small sigh, “I already told you, (Y/n). I’m not going to tutor you. I’m doing this because It’s better for you-”

“Not you.” (Y/n) quickly cut him off.

“to focus- wait what?” The Ravenclaw responded dumbfounded by her response. His face instantly morphing into one of confusion. The rest of the table (minus Hoshi) following soon after.

Jun looked over at Hoshi and then back at (Y/n), “(Y/n), you know I love you but please don’t tell me that Hoshi is going to tutor you.” He said with a hint of worry in his voice making the Gryffindor shake her head violently in reply,

“Oh no no no. I wouldn’t trust him with teaching me anything.”

“Hey-” Soonyoung’s face turned into one of slight offense, but seeing as no one seemed to argue her point, he simply huffed and went back to eating his breakfast.

“Okay, then what is the plan?” Mingyu probed curiously. (Y/n) turned her head to face Mingyu and shot him a bright smile that caused the tall male to grow a bit red in the face.

“Why thank you for asking, Gyu!” She hummed out happily.

“Hansol,” her attention once again diverted to the ever more growing concerned Ravenclaw. “Ravenclaw. They tend to be smart.”

“I said this once, I’ll say it again. Ravenclaw doesn’t equal smart,”

“Yeah yeah, not the point. Since you are in a house FULL of nerds, I don’t mean that offensively, I was thinking that maybe perhaps you could talk someone into helping me out here.” She completed.

The table went silent.

“…So you want me to ask one of my housemates to tutor you?"

"Correct."

A sigh tumbled out of Hansol as Seungkwan and Chan struggled to hold in some giggles, "Fine, I'll ask Wendy if she would be willing to help out-"

The Ravenclaw was cut off once more by (Y/n).

"Oh no, not her." She says but then quickly corrects herself, "Not that I don't love Wendy! She is literally the sweetest, but when I said I want someone in your house to tutor me, I meant maybe um...like the best of the best."

Jun furrowed his eyebrows and thought for a moment, "The best of the best? What do you mean?" His voice was laced with a bit of worry as he waited for her response. The rest of the table also on high alert for her answer. (Minus Soonyoung, who was still happily stuffing his face with breakfast.)

The girl felt a shy smile crawl across her face. One that, without context, make anyone smile in return.

"Well...I was thinking maybe someone like, oh I don't know, that one Ravenclaw dude that is always in the library with the dude with the deep voice and glasses."

Seungkwan and Dino finally bursted out into a roar of laughter as soon as the words left her. Hansol and Jun's jaws dropped instantly at the mention of Hansol's housemate. It took Mingyu a minute to process what she said and break out of his daydream-y state, but once they processed he joined Jun and Vernon in having his mouth hang open.

"YOU WANT ME TO GET LEE JIHOON TO TUTOR YOU?!"

Everyone at the surrounding tables immediately looked over due to the out burst that came from the usually quiet tranquil Ravenclaw. (Y/n) was sure that this was loudest she'd ever heard Vernon speak. It even took Hoshi off guard.

"Um...yeah?" The Keeper said meekly as she wasn't expecting that reaction from her friend. "Also what's so funny?" She huffed as she looked over at the Hufflepuff and Slytherin duo that were clutching their stomachs.

Mingyu was still looking at (Y/n) bewildered and Soonyoung looked around in confusion as well, "What's the big deal?"

Dino finally caught enough breath to speak,

"The deal is that it's Lee Jihoon. He quite literally talks to NO ONE out of his friend group. Let alone help anyone he doesn't know." He explains while catching his breath still.

Hansol snapped out of his shock and nodded, "I don't even interact with him out of class, so what makes you think he would do a favor for someone who isn't even his friend." He pointed out. (Y/n) pursed her lips as he commented.

"Well, aren't you friends with that one Minghao dude? He's friends with him, right? Just ask him to ask for him as a favor from a friend." She shrugged, making Hoshi nod in agreement. Mingyu looked and hesitated for a moment before speaking up,

"I'm sorry to say this guys, but I really don't know about this. He is known for being kind of mean and I don't want to see (Y/n) get upset over it." He muttered looking at the girl next to him.

(Y/n) simply ignored the comment and sighed, "You know what? If you aren't going to help out with this then I'll take it into my own hands." She puffed out her chest and stood up from her seat.

"(Y/n) , wait, I really don't think you should do this." Jun piped up before the Gryffindor girl walked away.

(Y/n) looked over at Jun and sent him a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, Junnie. I'm sure it's fine. He can't be that bad."

and with that, She hurried off to the library in search of the Ravenclaw.

It was a peaceful morning for Jihoon. He woke up feeling surprisingly good this morning. Probably because he didn't have any interruptions (Jeonghan, Joshua, and DK) this morning on his way to the library. Wonwoo didn't join him this morning due to him having a meeting with one of the professor's, but he honestly didn't mind that much. It was nice to have some alone time.

The library was usually where he would find himself in the morning. He liked it. It was quiet and it gave him time to work on personal projects before his classes started.

He found himself sitting at a table fiddling with a pencil as he listened to music quietly like usual when suddenly the doors of the library flung open. However; he just ignored it and chalked it up to being a student in a hurry to find a book before their class started.

(Y/n), on the other hand, was scanning the whole library in search of him. Her legs quickly carrying her around the large room while peaking around every corner and bookshelf until she spotted the student she was looking for.

A large smile grew on her face once she saw the peacefully working student.

Time to strike.

"Hello!" The optimistic (and slightly loud) voice caused Jihoon to jump. His attention taken away from his notebook at the sudden interruption.

The black haired Ravenclaw looked around just to check that she was in fact speaking to him.

She was.

"Um...Hi?" Jihoon muttered out in slight confusion.

The (H/c) grinned and took a seat next to him. "What are you working on?" She chirped out while glancing over at his book that he quickly shut.

The boy stared at her, not enjoying her nosiness.

"Can I help you with something?" His tone was snappy but that didn't sway the Gryffindor next to him. If anything, it made her grow more excited. Her (e/c) eyes lighting up slightly.

"Actually, you can! I'm (L/n) (Y/n), Nice to meet you!" (Y/n) held her hand out for the aloof boy to shake.

Once she introduced herself, He knew his nice morning was ruined. How could he not know her? She was the talk of the Gryffindor house and a good chunk of the school. The star keeper of quidditch. The girl that seemed to be friends with almost everyone. The girl that also nearly made him go deaf the other day.

When she realized that the male wasn't going to shake her hand, she awkwardly put it down and cleared her throat,

"Introductions don't really matter anyway, I already know you. I mean, Who doesn't, right?" She laughed off then got to business,

"You may have heard the other day that I'm having some complications with quidditch this year-"

"The day you nearly bursted my eardrums?"

Okay, that wasn't the response she was expecting but at least he is aware of the situation at hand.

"Um, Yeah. I'm sorry about that by the way. Anyways, like I said, I'm having some issues with quidditch this year. It seems I may have gotten myself in some trouble with my grades and, let's just say, I maybe probably won't be able to play this year if I don't bring those grades up." She details as Jihoon stared at her blankly.

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke up, "And what am I supposed to do?"

He didn't like where this conversation was going.

(Y/n) took a breath in before answering, "Well, you see, I asked my friends for some help but um...they refused-"

"Some friends you have"

"....anyways, It got me thinking, 'who is someone super smart and I could learn from?' then BOOM I thought of you!" She brightly replied.

The raven haired male stared at her blankly as she kept an idiotic smile plastered on her face. Feeling herself slowly start to grow clammy at his lack of an answer.

"Yeah, no." and with that Woozi gathered his things and walked off; His peaceful morning ruined.

(Y/n) sat in her chair dumbfounded as the boy walked off. She knew that it was a stretch to get him to say yes but damn. Even though she was just harshly rejected, something told her that instead of being upset and giving up, she should double down. It is what she does best after all.

Summary: (Y/n) is the pride of Gryffindor’s quidditch team, though that may come to an end if her grades keep dropping the way they are now. As a last hope of not being kicked before the new season starts, the Gryffindor starts her search for a tutor. Thus comes in the quiet grumpy Ravenclaw genius, Lee Jihoon. But why would he be willing to help someone he doesn’t know? Simple; to get the ever annoying and energetic (Y/n) off his back.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

A/n: haha….hiiiii. Okay I’m sorry for the lack of uploading. It took me forever to finish this written chapter and I’ve just been working nonstop lately but YIPPEE it’s finally done! Please enjoy! I also have not edited this so I’m so sorry if there is any misspellings or just skipped words in general

TAGLIST: Open @sp1ng @wonwoos-wineparty @expensive-idiot @lirtha97 @lightprincess-world

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foibles-fables · 2 years ago

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so @meg-noel-art and I restarted HZD from scratch yesterday evening--holy hell do I miss it. We only played up to the Proving, but I can already say so much about the utter excellence of the first installment, and how much I've missed its methods of storytelling.

However, that's a post for another time. Here's what I want to say today! I've also (unsurprisingly) been spending a lot of time this morning rotting my own brain about Talanah's HZD questline. And it got me thinking again, years later--defeating Redmaw just might be the very first true, joyful, not-bittersweet major victory Aloy has ever experienced in her life.

Consider. She won the Proving--but lost Rost, found more countless questions instead of the answers she was seeking, and finds herself as the impetus for violence against a tribe (even if she claims not to care). With Varl and Sona's quest, we do drive the Eclipse out of Nora territory, but with the echoes of all the tribe has lost--including Vala, whom Aloy could have seen as her friend, if she had survived. With Erend's quest, we save Meridian, but lose Ersa. While these are no doubt triumphs for Aloy, they're shrouded in grief.

(in fact, it's always been interesting to me that all of the Alight Gang's side quests deal with grief in its various stages and forms, providing a mirror for Aloy's own struggles with processing it...something I wish both HZD and HFW had touched on more intentionally)

With Talanah's quests, though? Aloy was able to work towards a net positive and help someone achieve their selfless and worthy ambition, while being viewed as an equal--no less, and more importantly, no more. Something she can be proud of and celebrate without reservations or caveats. And that is something she hadn't been able to claim beforehand. What an important experience to share with someone.

I think that's a huge part of the reason why the connection between these two hit me hard enough to change me on a molecular level the first time I played. It kinda transcends, you know?

now if you'll excuse me i'm going to go outside and scream for a little while!

#i can guarantee incoherence when we actually get to the lodge #horizon zero dawn #aloy #talanah khane padish #aloy x talanah #horizon forbidden west

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burning-academia-if · 1 year ago

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Hi! I found out about this yesterday and the premises are interesting, but a couple of things make me a bit hesitant so I prefer to ask about them if you don't mind.

So, it's because of Lars - or well, his description in the intro post. It says "He can't stand you, and the feelings mutual." - most of the intro seems to imply a lot of customization for the MC's personality, and you even said we'll be able to determine how MC feels about Rook and felt about him in the past and stuff like that... But this one character, we're forced to hate? This makes me a bit nervous because I know I never can truly get into the few games who decide for an in-between in MC customization, where we can decide almost everything about the MC, but then suddenly there is one thing or two that are pretty important and that we can't decide for some reason - it creates a disconnect. I highly prefer games where we can decide everything, or games where the MC has a pretty strongly preset personality in general.

So yeah, the questions are: - Just how much customization of the MC and their personality do we have in your game's case? - If we have a lot, then why are we forced to have our MC hate Lars instead of deciding of their feelings independently of what Lars feels?

PS: I don't want to come off as complaining though! I'm genuinely asking because it may impact my choice of playing or not - or at the very least I'll be prepared for what's to come in any case - and knowing beforehand is pretty useful to avoid frustrations once I start. I hope that's fine with you? Thank you and have a great day!

You're fine! This didn't come off like you were complaining at all lol

For the MC, some things will be set. The main thing being their past and certain actions they took when they were younger, and also their (perhaps misplaced) devotion to their family and taking care of their mom. While you can obviously change this as the story goes on, it will start with them having strong feelings about their situation.

As for Lars, I should probably go back and change the wording. To preface, Lars not only hates MC, but does things that actively puts them in harms way (although he never directly inflicts harm). Due to this your initial feelings towards him won't be positive. The choices will be closer to:

You hate him.

He annoys you.

He makes you anxious.

You're scared of him.

You're indifferent.

Basically, Lars is a terrible person, he admittedly treats you like shit, and you won't have positive feelings about him at first but you won't be forced to hate him. This will also make a lot more sense in context and how the first meeting goes down.

#em answers #ch: mc #ch: lars #also take this as an early warning for his route #he acts more like a villain then the villains do sometimes

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lumine-no-hikari · 2 months ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #263

Today's letter is really late, I know. But I'm not dead, I promise you! It's just that, I was only home for a little while after I got outta work, and then J and I went to various other places, and I only just got back home a little while ago, and I only just now had a second to breathe, and it's already almost 1am.

…Holy cannoli, but today was long. Good, but long. I am feeling pretty zombied.

…So I guess I'll start at the beginning! I went to work! And I promised yesterday that I'd try to get some yummy photos for you! And it worked out better than expected; I thought that I would simply by bagging and labeling breads all day, but at around the second half of my shift, Mi asked me to fill some muffin tins full of corn muffin batter! Apparently, the way I do the muffins is very precise and effective. I got a couple pictures - one sort of blurry picture of them in the oven, and two more of them after they were baked:

...I thought these turned out really nicely. But they were not cooled off enough by the time my shift was over. And they still weren't cooled off enough even after I got a few grocery odds and ends for my house; I was a little sad about it, but what can one do?

I popped home for a brief time after that. On the way in, I saw this great big huge turkey vulture chilling out with some kind of turkey vulture snack in the middle of the intersection leading to my house. Or I think it was a turkey vulture? It had a bald, featherless head, but it was black instead of red. Whatever it was, it was such a beautiful bird.

I wanted to take a picture of it for you, but just as I was about to get my camera out, some other people showed up in the intersection in the road perpendicular to me, and the number of cars I guess must have spooked it, because it carried its snack in its talons and flew away, low to the ground.

I saw roughly where it landed, and so I hurried the rest of the way home, brought the groceries to M and J's attention, and went back out with my camera to where it landed, in order to try to capture its image. Unfortunately, I think it must have sensed my footsteps, because before I could even see it, it took off again with its prize, and rounded the corner around some trees, and, though I tried to follow it, I couldn't see where it had gone off too.

...It was such a majestic, beautiful bird, though. I wish you could have seen it.

J and I went to Eggcellent shortly after that; the owners are taking a break to go on vacation for a couple of weeks, so their shop will be closed for a little while. We figured the thing to do is go see them beforehand.

I discovered that the very first handicraft I had made for them somehow got a big huge crack down the side. It's only visible when it's angled just right, but nonetheless, the mineral oil is leaking out of it, so I'm going to have to try to figure out what I'm going to do with it. I'm not sure it can be fixed; it might be best to simply make them another one.

We went immediately to my friend A's house after that. I used to work at the same company with him, a long time ago. He has two husbands, Jn and C, and they are lovely people, too. The three of them together seem to have a very healthy and beautiful dynamic, and I feel privileged to be able to witness it.

It was about a 45 minute drive to get to them. It was raining, and I thought it was pretty, so I took pictures:

...Along the way, J and I made a wrong turn, and he got distracted by some random variety shop, so we went in. I found a book that seemed auspicious to me, for reasons that would require too much context for it to be explained to you in a way that you could understand. But I got it. I got the book. It's full of photographs. Maybe in the coming days, I'll go through it with you, page by page, one at a time. I think you might like it.

When we finally got to A, Jn, and C's spot, Jn was very excited to play a game of Settlers of Catan. It's a very well-known game amongst board game enthusiasts in my country. It looks kind of like this:

...I didn't think to take pictures of the board after we were done with the game. For reasons that I don't really wanna get into quite at this moment (but maybe I'll explain some other time...), I tend to find board games very... anxiety-inducing. I have a lot of experience with people being very unkind to me in tabletop game settings - be it board games, tabletop RPGs like Call of Cthulhu, or card games like Magic the Gathering. When I play games like those, I actually have to spend a decent chunk of energy trying to keep my thoughts and emotions in check so that I don't accidentally end up perceiving contempt being directed at me where there is none.

Making sure I remain mindful throughout a lengthy gaming session gets fairly taxing after the first half hour or so. But J, A, Jn, and C are very safe people, so there's nothing actually for me to worry about. Still, I gotta be compassionate towards the memories my body carries. When it starts to get really weird, I'll bring my focus to the present by singing a little song.

And it helps that I have my own goals outside of "winning". Really, I just wanted to connect all my cute little houses with a length of road, and turn all my cute little houses into cute little cities, and try to help the others build their stuff when I can. I'm not really interested in winning, because I don't need to win in order to feel good about what I'm doing. And besides, I usually like it better when someone else can feel good about winning, anyhow.

We went home very late. And it was mega super foggy on the way back. I tried to take a picture, but my camera doesn't really do it justice:

...It was delightfully spooky outside!!! I tend to think that foggy weather is kind of peaceful and mysterious at the same time.

Hey, Sephiroth? Do you like foggy weather? I think it's nice, especially in the morning. It reminds me of quiet, sleepy things. A foggy morning is good for drinking hot tea and taking morning naps under mound of blankets while cuddled up with a friend on top of a pile of pillows.

...I hope someday you get to try something like that with someone you care about.

At some point, the stars became relatively clear, and I discovered that J's camera, unlike mine, can capture them, albeit clumsily. So I tried to get some good pictures. Though, in the meantime, J decided to use my phone to get pictures of me taking pictures for you, haha...

...Here are some of the ones that I got with J's phone. They're not the bestest, I know. But maybe you'll like 'em anyways...

...I've wanted to capture the stars of my planet for you for a long time now. It feels so good to finally have access to a camera that can do it, even if it doesn't do it perfectly.

...Hey, Sephiroth...? Do you think... maybe someday... you could tell me about your planet's stars, sometime? Would you make it out of your situation safely so that maybe someday you can go take pictures of them and show them to us...?

...

...It's going on 2am now. I had better go to sleep. I wanted to try getting concord grapes tomorrow. And I wanted to check out some store that M and J and I had passed on the way to getting ice cream the other day; it was called The Cross-Eyed Owl. It's got owls in the name; you know I gotta check it out!

I love you. And I hope that it's clear within every word I write, every picture I take, every silly little story I share, and every song I show you. You matter. You're important. You're lovable and worthy as-is. And you're not alone - no matter what your brain tries to tell you when it's being mean to you.

I'll write again tomorrow. Be safe out there so that you can come back to us soon, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

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topoeiaz · 13 days ago

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Chapter 9: Love is in the Air I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View (HP) Tom Riddle x OC

18+ blog • minors dni

word count: 2.4k

hp masterlist • pov masterlist • ao3

The next morning found Tom in the kitchens.

Thea had missed breakfast again and one look at the hallway to Hufflepuff’s dormitory gave Tom the inkling that she wouldn’t have had risked a detour to the kitchens to grab something quick before transfiguration class; the peeves had decided to make the place their playground this time around. His sentiments for the girl far surpassed his desire to not disturb the poltergeists, however, and he braced their attacks with rapid spells firing out his wand with precise accuracy. He took a deep breath once he had made it inside the bustling kitchen and spared a glance around for anyone free to ask for assistance. He was beaten to it when a voice cheered out from the side and he turned to see an elf regarding him in recognition. “Mister Riddle, yes? How can Tally be of help to Mister Riddle?”

“Ah, yes, Thea has spoken lots about you. It’s good to meet you, Tally, just ‘Tom’ is fine. I’m just here to ask for a piece of candy or sweets for Thea actually, unless she’s already picked something up beforehand?”

“Of course, of course!” Tally gestured for Tom to follow her and he obeyed dutifully as she spoke. “Tally was wondering if Miss Tina was coming but Tally supposes Mister Tom can give it to Miss Tina instead! Tally hopes Mister Tom has not been up to any murders lately!”

Tom blinks in surprise at Tally’s bright frankness, which ultimately reminded him of Thea. “The peeves are camping outside at the moment which is why I suspect she hadn’t visited this morning. And no, I’ve yet to commit any, in fact.”

They’ve reached the pantry by this point and Tally congratulated him on his lack of kill count thus far before turning to survey the open cupboards, fishing out a mini bar of chocolate that she proceeded to hand off to Tom. “Miss Tina has been very happy lately and Tally thanks Mister Tom for that! Don’t keep Miss Tina waiting now!”

That brought a pleased smile to his face. “Of course, Tally. It was lovely to meet you.”

Just as Tom had expected, Thea was perched over her desk the same way as she had been yesterday when Tom entered the classroom. When she turned to the sound of his footsteps, he could see more colour to her face than previously and relief washed over him further when she could manage a smile and a stronger greeting. “Morning, Tom.”

“Good morning. Feeling better than yesterday?”

She gave an affirmative hum as he took his seat and made a sound of surprise when he pulled out the bar of chocolate from his pocket and signalled her to take it. “For me?”

“Who else if not you, love?”

Thea mirrored his fond expression and expressed her gratitude. “You are a saint.”

“I doubt the world would agree with you on that.”

His amused tone reminded her of the irony to her words and she gave him a grin as her eyes glinted cheekily. “My saint, then.”

Tom quirked up his lips at this and felt the satisfaction rush through him. Hers, she had said. Oh, he wanted more.

He let her have her sweets in peace and only piped up once again when she had finished it. “I met Tally in the kitchens earlier.” Her lips parted in disbelief. “She was the one who gave me the chocolate when I mentioned that it was for you.”

Playful devastation befell upon Thea as she frowned. “No- I missed your first interactions?! That’s just cruel!” She then shook her head and curled up her lip, “but how is mother dearest doing, though?”

Tom huffed out a laugh and propped an arm on the table to lean his head against his palm, facing Thea fully and giving her his undivided attention. “I can see how you’ve taken after one another. She had expressed her approval on my lack of murder counts so far.”

Thea choked out a laughter at her failed attempt to stifle it. “Sorry! Sorry- I just-” Tom smiled fondly as she reigned herself in with a few deep breaths, hiding her lips behind her hand. “I suppose that means she’s doing good!”

“That, she is. And I can’t fault either of you; I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

A flush to her cheeks, she settled into a beam. “‘Merlin-blessed’. The ladies had said that was what the boys called me.”

Tom hummed in agreement, “and I quite agree.” Her flush grew darker and she cleared her throat. “Speaking of, since when had you gotten close with Black and Rosier?”

Thea turned to mimic his posture. “They approached me just the other day and wanted to discuss the inbreeding issue. One thing led to another and I’m now preparing a research presentation to help them in their task in convincing their parents that it’s a practice that should be dropped.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. You can check it out once I’ve got it all prepared, too! The bigger the audience, the more feedback I get to help me improve it.”

Tom tipped his head in a promise of his attendance and Thea sent him a smile that warmed the air around them. “And they’re treating you well?”

“Yes! Blood supremacy ideals aside – which I’ll work on-” Tom let slip a chuckle and Thea brightened up further, “they’ve been great! I would love to be friends with them.”

“At the rate I’ve seen you three get to know each other yesterday, I’d say you’re well into the path of befriending them.”

Thea was beginning to wonder if she should head down to the hospital wing tonight to ask for some sort of muscle-relaxing potion the more she chatted with Tom. Her smile had yet to let up and her face muscles were starting to stiffen.

They only stopped their conversation when Dumbledore had entered the class and once the double period lesson had ended, Tom spoke up. “The ladies insisted that you join us for lunch today.”

Thea shot him a brazen look and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And it’s not just because you want me there?”

Her grin only widened when Tom gave a laugh. “Oh, darling, I’d always want you with me. They were just very adamant that their message got across.”

Thea’s hands didn’t stop as they packed up her belongings but it was near thing. Her brain had frozen at Tom’s sudden confession and she could sense an approaching flush to her cheeks. She eyed Tom, flustered, as he offered his hand once again.

“So? Will you join us?”

Despite her malfunctioning thoughts, the answer to that question would always ring clear in her subconsciousness. Once she was ready to leave, she shot Tom a charming grin and took his hand, “of course, love.”

Their hold remained clasped together even as they entered the Great Hall and walked to the snakes’ table. This was the closest the others had seen the pair together and Druella let out a croon once they were near enough. “Well, aren’t you guys adorable!”

Thea flashed her a shy smile in response while Tom voiced out his thanks. There wasn’t a hint of denial, that the two of them were something, in the air and Thea felt her heart lighten at the potential reciprocity of her feelings. Sat together, Thea on Tom’s left, they only let each other go once their plates had appeared in front of them.

Turning to Druella and Walburga, who was sat across the former, Thea queried, “Tom said you needed me for something?”

Druella lit up in remembrance and Walburga nodded as she spoke, “we were thinking, since you’re helping us with our issue, we thought we could help you with something that you may find a hindrance in the future too; namely, high society etiquette and customs.” Walburga smiled when intrigue crossed Thea’s features. “Seeing as you’ll be alongside Riddle as the both of you lead the change of our time, you will most likely be forced to participate in events and so, we figured we could teach you a couple tricks on how to deal with them.”

Besides her surprise in learning that the others viewed her to also be spearheading their future with Tom, she didn’t see any reason to deny their offer. “I do have to warn you though, I might be absolutely horrendous at it.”

“That’s alright, we’ll be there every step of the way! And we’re not our mothers,” Druella shared an knowing glance with Walburga, “so, whenever you need a break, just let us know and we’ll slow it down, yeah? We’ve got time, there’s no rush.”

Their generosity was such a switch from how Thea had been treated a lifetime ago and she could feel the waterworks bubble in her throat. She quickly swallowed it down and took in a shaky breath that sparked empathy in both ladies as they reminisced on their own set of haunting memories. “Thank you, both, really. That would be lovely.”

“Of course, Thea.”

First-name basis, that was another milestone in their friendship. The most basic of basics in high society etiquette that she knew was that she could refer to those of higher status by their names if they had initiated it beforehand. It was a sign that Druella and Walburga wanted to establish a connection with Thea and had hopes of a deeper bond in the future. She felt her insides warm again and knew that she, too, wanted this friendship to bear fruit.

Having heard the sentimentality in Thea’s words previously, Tom looked to her in concern and reached behind to rest a palm against her back to gain her attention. His worry only grew tenfold when he spotted the glistening in her eyes and the rawness of her grateful countenance, eyebrows furrowing as he questioned her quietly. “Everything alright, love?”

Helga, was Thea surrounded by people who cared. She had to put in twice the effort to stop her tears from flowing and gave a sincere smile. “Yeah, just- feelings getting the best of me.”

Not entirely convinced but momentarily assuaged, Tom caressed her back soothingly and dropped the subject so as to not push her vulnerability. “Did Rosier and Black tell you what it was they wanted?”

Thankful for the distraction, Thea hummed affirmatively. “In exchange for helping them with the inbreeding troubles, they’ve decided to teach me the ways of surviving high society. Said that they foresee me being forced to attend events in the future.”

“Hm. They’re quite right. I expect people will demand to see the person who has changed Wizarding Britain for the better.”

Thea titled her head in confusion, “wouldn’t that be you?”

Tom retrieved his hand from her back, sending shivers down her spine as his fingers trailed against her body on its path to her face, where he gently brushed her fringe away and tucked it behind her ear. “None of that future – nor this present – could have happened if it hadn’t been for you, my dear. Even if you choose not to go down the path of actively leading our goals, I will not cease to honour you and your love that you’ve given in your successful efforts to defy fate.” Thea had to fight against her instinct to lean against his touch when he cradled her face briefly before dropping his hold on her regretfully. “Magic knows, the day I withhold from telling everyone that it was you, who have blessed our land with a prosperous era, is the day that will never come, even as the sun dims or the apocalypse reign.”

Thea’s heart might have stopped – she couldn’t tell – as her breath got caught in her throat and her heart’s beating filled her ears. She couldn’t even acknowledge the deep pink that had coloured her cheeks and could only imagine how stupid she looked as she gazed at Tom with absolute devotion, glittery eyes and all. The tender fondness to his expression didn’t help her case and she was only, barely, distantly aware that they were currently in the hall. Still at a loss for words even as she swallowed the lump in her chest, her voice came out breathless as she spoke, “gosh, Tom, I- you can’t just say things like that!”

Tom grinned boyishly as Thea gradually began returning to her senses. “Not even if it’s true? How else am I supposed to be honest with you, love?”

“I-”

That had caught her off-guard once again and she gnawed on her lower lip when words flew out of her mind. Her action had seized Tom’s notice and her nerves flared harshly as gravity pulled at her heart when she saw his eyes darken when they flicked to her lips and back up to her eyes. Her thoughts screamed at her to get a grip and ground herself back into reality-

-where they were very much in public, still.

With a slight jump, Thea widened her eyes and fully regained her bearings, sparing a glance around her to remind herself of her circumstances. Her sights landed back on Tom who was now sporting an uncertain smile. “Too much?”

“No! No-” When he remained doubtful, she took his hand and brought it to her lap reassuringly. “I just- it would have been nice if we weren’t in public- not that I’m embarrassed of you! Not at all! I’m just… privacy for us would be nice.”

His hand flipped over in her grip to grasp one of hers and interlocked their fingers solidly. She forced her eyes back on Tom from where she had averted them to, and felt her insecurities abate with the warm smile he sent. “That’s alright, love. There’s always time for us, yeah?” His features soften at her nod and his grip on her hand tightened slightly, “I’ve meant every word that I’ve said so far. That includes earlier; you’re always welcomed to join our table anytime. The others would be glad to see you too.”

Overwhelmed with emotions that had been snowballing since she had woken up this morning – from her frustration at the peeves for preventing her visit to the kitchens, to her love for Druella, Walburga, and Tom – she could only manage a soft whisper that shared more of her heart than the semantics of the words she uttered.

“Thank you.”

ao3 🌱 topaz 🌱 masterlist

don’t steal my work, claim it as your own, upload it to another site, or use it to train AI

dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive & @saradika-graphics

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic #tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x oc #tom marvolo riddle #tom marvolo riddle fluff #tom marvolo riddle x oc

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meditating-dog-lover · 7 months ago

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Skin and physical and mental goals update

My skin is a lot better now. It's by no means perfect, but my skin previously was completely dry, red, irritated, itchy, and oozing and bleeding. I'll take what I have now over that. My tacrolimus ointment helps and it's not cold and dry here anymore, which is another bonus. Since March I have not had any flareups that resulted in my using a towel or carpet or piece of fabric to itch which resulted in an oozy and bloody and painful mess. I do get itchiness, but I can manage it by ignoring it or, if it's a stronger itch, running hot water on my hands and rubbing til the itchiness is gone. It's not a good habit, but it's a lot better than physically itching and causing severe skin inflammation and open, bloody, and oozy skin. But don't do this if you don't have eczema.

I'll be honest I haven't actively seen doctors growing up. I've only done blood work twice in my 20s and they were generic blood panels (blood cell, lipid, thyroid, blood sugar, etc...). Everything is within range for me, thankfully, except I have eosinophilia. There is definitely a link between eczema and eosinophilia, which is why I am going to do more blood work to test for my histamine and immunoglobulin levels. I'm going to do that tomorrow and I can't wait (I don't think I've ever gotten excited over blood work and no one normally does, but this will truly help me find the missing puzzle pieces to my chronic eczema problem).

I've also ran out of flaxseed oil and want to switch to fish oil, since the omega 3 fatty acids (EPA and DHA) found in fish are more bioavailable, whereas the body needs to convert the fatty acids found in flaxseed oil (ALA) and it's not always 100% successful (based on what I've read). I bought a bottle of the super omega 3 fish oil from Whole Foods, and I'll start taking it after I do my blood work since I don't want to start a new supplement beforehand.

I'm still waiting on my skin culture and gut evaluation results. Once I have everything my doctor and I will be able to figure out what's really causing my eczema and how I can work towards fixing those issues and having longterm healthy skin. I want to be healthy, I don't want to rely on medication that only temporarily gets rid of symptoms. I'm young and healthy and fail to see the need to become heavily dependent on pharmaceuticals unless absolutely necessary (like antibiotics and antihistamines which I always have with me). I can easily apply steroids or calcineurin inhibitors on my skin and it will heal, but the inflammation will absolutely come back after a bit. It's not a longterm solution at all. But it will help me until I make the more drastic changes after I get my lab results.

I bought a nail strengthener yesterday. It's the Essie hard to resist pink glow shade. Like I said my nails are already strong and healthy, but I did get a topical strengthener to give it a boost. I had a nail break Friday morning and another one kind of break yesterday, but not as bad and I was able to file and shape it. But it's a very pretty color and my nails look nice. As I said because I have wider nail beds, I'm trying to get them into an oval shape because oval nails look pretty and feminine. Because of the width I'll actually have to grow my nails out longer so they appear more oval, otherwise they would be round. So far I've been able to grow my nails out, I just need to find out how to shape them. I also want to stop buffing and cutting my cuticles and I would rather push them back instead (I found a nail tech channel on Youtube and she advises against buffing and cuticle cutting). I also want to figure out how to shape oval nails. I kind of know how to but it's not perfect. With that being said I feel like I can learn how to do nail stuff myself without having to go to a salon and spend a lot of money. On the same topic of physical goals, I'm still waiting on my eyebrows to grow out and I've lost weight through intermittent fasting and I can see it on my stomach and legs. I want to work on reducing my body dysmorphia (which was very bad last year and even the year before and is thankfully better now) so I can buy nice clothes. I do not have good clothing style, but that can always be a goal to work towards. My mom and sister can help me.

Regarding emotional well-being, I'm journaling as always and I'm going to therapy. My therapist wants me to do somatic exercises. I'm not someone who can sit and relax for 10 minutes because I'm antsy and my mind is always racing. This does contribute to stress and anxiety, and I definitely deal with those. I want to learn how to practice mindfulness and relaxation, even doing stretching and working on my posture (I do a lot of walking as exercise, stretching is also something that can help and I can benefit from). Even getting professional massages can help, since I do have muscle tension and it will give me an opportunity to relax. I want to also start reading, which also requires me to ignore my personal life issues and to relax and be at ease. It's embarrassing to admit that despite the fact that I love learning and educating myself, I don't like reading. And reading is something I should be doing. I just need to work on relaxation and clearing my mind, and thankfully my therapist is helping me with that.

Everything will work out. I can't wait to do blood work and to continue mindfulness.

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kessielrg · 2 years ago

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[MMX] Future Me Hates Me: Part 2

Summary: After stumbling upon a Light Capsule, and having it erroneously refer to her as Kalinka, Aero seeks to figure out just what her family connection is to Doctor Light. Meanwhile, after the death of Iris, Zero vows to absolve himself of his past. However, as Aero becomes the target of a Maverick, Zero is forced into finding that not all bridges can easily be burned…

Rating: K+

word Count: 1,644 words

Part: 1, [2], 3, 4, 5

. . . .

Doctor Cain had given Aero a lot of his research journals. Many were from before she was born, documenting his archaeological digs and what he’d find (or not find) there. There was just one small caveat to them though: Doctor’s Cain handwriting was notoriously hard to decipher. It was why there were so few copies or recreations of the journal that documented the day he found X- no one was able to read them. Aero had only the faintest idea of what each chicken scratch meant, and that was only because she practically grew up with it.

It’s not like anyone asked her to transcribe them. But she probably would have refused anyway; for both her privacy and Cain’s. These journals were still holders to some of Cain’s more frustrated thoughts when it came to his life’s ambition.

‘Still nothing. For the last month, I have been sifting through the dirt trying to find a fossil record which would verify my findings on Mesozoic plant life, but so far I have come up empty. Tomorrow I'll move my archaeological dig to a new site. Maybe I'll have better luck.’

The start of Cain’s discovery to X. Aero had been looking for this journal since she got home. And, just as she feared, the place where Cain found X was nowhere near where she found the odd capsule. Still, she continued to read on. Aero hadn’t got to see X right after he came out of his hibernation station. The two had their first meeting almost a month after, and they tried to stay in touch up until X formally joined the Maverick Hunters. It was so weird to think it’s been that long…

‘How did Doctor Light have the time to make armors for a project he didn’t even know would see the light of day after he passed?’ Aero thought to herself as she went over Doctor Cain’s journals more. Surely there would have been other sightings of capsules beforehand too? Some mention of them at Doctor Light’s ruined and abandoned lab? ‘Wasn’t he ill for a really long time before he died?’

Aero absently bit the tip of her thumb in thought. A few moments more and she was digging around for her phone. By (rather embarrassing) instinct, she almost called X instead of her grandmother. X didn’t know any more about his creator than Doctor Cain did.

“Well, hello my darling.” Aero’s grandmother said once she picked up the line. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Gran.” Aero replied, a small grin teasing her lips. “I’ve just been wondering about something recently and wanted to know if you could help.”

“Of course, dear. What do you need?”

Aero hesitated for a moment, biting her lip.

“I wanted to know if you knew anything about your mom’s dad. I want to know how close Doctor Cossack was to Doctor Light.”

. . .

After yesterday’s assignment -a mission that did lead to any good answers- Zero had wanted to take on something more relaxed. He refused to take a day off, despite the suggestion of the Navigator, and so he shouldn’t have been surprised that he was given something he considered child’s play.

“We suspect that a Maverick has hacked into a human residence as of 500 hours and ongoing.” the Navigator told Zero. “Most of the data can be traced to a single street; Poplar Court. We know this to be from a Maverick instead of a human due to the manipulation of the cyber data directly. Further investigations show that it is a single residence that is being targeted, due to the abnormal levels of ping time between clients. The residence in question has the number 101-25 and is currently occupied by a single woman in her mid 20s.”

“1010-25…?” Zero started to wonder, knowing that the street name was familiar. When he realized how, he then hissed with disgust, “Aero.”

“Indeed.” the Navigator agreed. “While odd that a potential Maverick could be gathering intel from a human, it is still a cause for concern and needs to be investigated immediately.”

“Understood,” Zero nodded. “I’ll connect through our servers and navigate to those on Poplar Court from there. Also, has X been informed of this?”

“No. Maverick Hunter X has been placed on a multi day assignment that bars most communication from being accessible. Any and all calls are to be made in an emergency or otherwise dire situation.”

“Good.”

The Navigator gave a nod of confirmation of her own before going to type something at her computer.

“We have Data Room 5 ready for your transfer. Remember that any and all injuries you sustain in Cyberspace could prove fatal. Should you die in Cyberspace, your body will fail outside of it and R-DNA data retrieval will not be possible. Do you understand and respect these terms, Zero?”

When the Navigator looked up, Zero was already gone.

Entering Cyberspace was nothing new for Zero. He knew the risks and had seen many of the repercussions first hand- even the permanent ones. All he really needed to hear was which room was open. Dealing with an in-mainframe hacker was exactly the light work he needed today anyway. If he was clever, he might even convince them to disconnect peacefully. Zero snorted at the thought. X was the better peace negotiator between them- it was the Mavericks that decided they didn’t want to listen and, in doing so, signed their own death warrants. Hopefully, if this one was smart enough to get into a human’s communication system, then they'd have the common sense to back down too.

Navigating Cyberspace was not dissimilar to simply walking down the street. Especially when most traffic lights or billboards were connected to the interconnecting data transfer of Cyberspace to begin with. And, much to his wish to forget it, Zero knew the general path to Aero’s street like the back of his hand. Before X became a Hunter, Aero’s place was where Zero could usually find him. The two used to be quite close before then- Zero could remember Doctor Cain once telling Sigma that he hoped Aero and X would be the first Reploid and human union. The thought of it still made Zero sick to his stomach. X was destined to become a Maverick Hunter. It gave him purpose. Far more purpose than pretending to be human with another-

Zero had been so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn’t see the bug. In Cyberspace, what would have easily been a webcam or computer set became a small pocket of red data. It would collect information from anywhere its range could reach. Right now, its only reach seemed to be right above Aero’s home. A less experienced Maverick Hunter would have said it was inactive. Zero knew far better.

After some careful manipulating, Zero could get a feedback loop of what Aero had said, to what the hacker would also be mumbling. Aero took up the left screen from the loop, the hacker (whose appearance was obscured due to purposely cutting off any potential video feed) occupied the right screen. He hadn’t been an easy fix. Whoever this hacker was knew what they were doing.

“I believe my grandfather left behind some of his research work with Doctor Light in Russia.” the voice of Aero’s grandmother said. A recent phone call must have triggered the bug’s recording abilities. “A family vault with a code that you would be able to figure out, my dear.”

“Lemme guess, a very important date?” Aero snarked. The grin on her face was knowing, and almost mischievous.

“There was no doubting my grandfather’s love of Kalinka.” Aero’s grandmother laughed. Even Aero joined in. Zero had only a vague idea of the joke, but kept that thought pushed away for now.

“I might catch the next plane over, then.” Aero decided. “It’s a weird in-between with work now, you know? And I’ve got the zenny stored up that’s not going anywhere.”

“Would you like my card, darling? Exchange rates are so high these days…”

“No, I think I can handle it, Gran. I’ll send you a message when I get there though.”

“That would be wonderful. Be safe darling, I love you.”

“I love you too, Gran.”

The feed of Aero’s call ended, leaving only the audio from the hacker.

“Russia, huh?” the hacker mused. Their voice was also synthesized to all hell and back, making the vocal pattern unrecognizable. “I should have known. Finally, all the secrets to the ultimate Reploid will be mine.”

After that, the feed disappeared as well, leaving behind the hibernating bug. The vagueness of it all immediately hit the alarm bells in Zero’s mind.

‘Why is Aero suddenly interested in Doctor Light? She can’t even handle being related to Doctor Cain. And Russia? Who in her family could have had ties with Russia? It must have been someone important if this was the information the hacker was waiting for. Why would the hacker be listening in anyway? Aero wouldn’t know anything about the ultimate Reploid. Only Doctor Cain would, or even Doctor Light who made X- who in and of himself could be called the ultimate Reploid. Someone in Russia, family of Aero’s, who could potentially have the knowledge to make…’

“Shit.” Zero cursed. He immediately withdrew his data and woke up at Maverick Hunter HQ.

“Zero,” the Navigator said from over his headset, “Is everything alright? The threat hasn’t been-”

“The hacker wasn’t there. It was a bug.” Zero told her, rather harshly. “They already have the information they need. A Maverick is planning on harming a human for information. Our next course of action is to track down that Maverick because they are on the move. We also need to contact Aero -over a secure connection- now. She is in danger.”

#megaman #Mega Man #rockman #mega man x #megaman x #rockman x #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #zero #mmx zero #mega man oc #megaman oc #megaman fanfiction #mega man fanfiction

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sunshinericciardo · 3 years ago

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𝐞𝐜𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 || 𝐃𝐑𝟑

Part two to birthday. read part one here :)

summary: you are celebrating your birthday with your friends and your boyfriend but he had a surprise for you.

a/n: first off, thank you all so so much for all the love on all the previously posted fics, as well as birthday obviously. I absolutely love that. I also hit 100 followers yesterday so yay, i can't thank you enough. :)

as per usual, thank you so much to @welld0nebaku for the feedback, proofreading and just being my bestie, ily <3

word count: juuuuust under 4k

not my photo.

WARNINGS: Okay, so prepare. this is one hell of a ride. So, 18+ obviously, NSFW, mentions and use of sex toys, (blindfold, handcuffs, vibrators, the whole nine yards.) also the use of sex toys in public. oral sex, (both f and m receiving) dom!daniel, angst (i think?), daniel gets called daddy a few times. pretty much just 4k words of filth but oh well.

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR CONTINUE READING BELOW THIS BAR IF YOU DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH READING THIS TYPE OF CONTENT AND/OR ARE UNDER 18! EVERYONE ELSE, ENJOY THE RIDE.

“Really, Daniel? What’s going through your head? I’m your girlfriend. Not your sex slave.” You argued, pushing the box back in his hands. You looked up at your boyfriend who looked very confused.

“Babe-” He mumbled before sitting down on the edge of the bed, pulling you with him. You swatted his arm away. “Don’t babe me.” You bit back before standing up and walking towards the kitchen. You were in desperate need of a drink. You opened the bottle of wine on the counter, pouring some in your glass. You walked out to the balcony, leaning on the barrier to watch the sun set. Taking in all the sounds of the life around you, you lift your glass to your lips, taking a sip of your wine.

You were so invested in the cars driving past below you and the people laughing and chatting on the street that you didn’t notice the balcony door open and your boyfriend copying your position. You took another huge gulp of your drink, basically downing the dark red liquid. “Babe.” He mumbled, you stared at him, emptiness prominent in your features.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just.. I’m just curious, okay? I mean, we’ve always been the pair to experiment with basically anything and everything, except for this. I’m just curious, but I should’ve discussed it with you beforehand, instead of doing it this way. If you really don’t want it. I’ll send it back.” You chuckled, mainly to yourself as for the reason you were actually having an argument. Were you being too harsh on him? Or did he need the setback, in order to make sure he communicates more often? “Why are you laughing?” He mumbled his hands playing with the skin around his nails- one of his insecurity bad habits. You reached out for his hand, signaling for him to stop. His eyes shot up to meet yours, his deep, dark brown eyes glistened in the reflection of the setting sun. Telling you how bad he felt about this situation. Your face inched closer to his, with your one hand still on both of his, the other moved up to his cheek, your fingers playing with the scratchy stubble he had going on. Your lips found his, which resulted in him instantly melting in your grip. His arms wrap around your waist, fingers were spreaded across your lower back as he pulled you closer into his body.

“I’m sorry, Dan. I shouldn’t have reacted in such a harsh way.” You mumbled in the crook of his neck. He simply hummed, his hand running up and down your back. “Maybe we should try it?” You barely managed to say it, unsure of whether it was audible or not. That doubt was soon erased from your thoughts as he grabbed both your hands and dragged you along with him, back to the living room.

“I’m not letting you have second thoughts on that, babe.” He breathed, making you chuckle and struggle to keep up his needy pace back to your shared bedroom.

Your heartbeat started increasing as soon as you re-entered the bedroom where Daniel sat you down on the edge of the bed, lifting up your dress in the process. He got back up, leaning into you, planting his lips on yours. He pushed you down on the bed in the process, with his knees on either side of your hips, he hovered over you to reach the box. He lowered

himself onto you, fiddling with the box to open it. “Just take it out when you don’t feel comfortable, love.” He assured, leaning down again to kiss your lips.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You breathed. You weren’t going to lie, with him on top of you, you were close to ripping his clothes off on the spot. This is exactly what Daniel did to you. No matter how long the two of you have been together, you were always desperate for him. Whether it was his touch, or the feeling of him stretching your walls, you turned to putty as soon as his eyes met yours.

He got off of you, kneeling next to the bed. You heard him squeezing some lube out of the bottle before you felt his hand slowly reach for your panties. You weren’t sure as to why he lubed up the toy as the wetness was already pooling in your panties. His fingers moved the damp fabric to the side. “Didn’t really need to lube that up.” He chuckled, kissing the inside of your thigh. You heard the toy vibrate in your hands for a brief moment before you felt his hand with the toy come up between your legs, he ran a finger along your folds before inserting one in you, allowing you to adjust to the egg in a minute. He quickly entered a second digit, thrusting a few times before taking his fingers out of you and inserting the egg. He licked his fingers after he fixed your panties, a quick tap on your clothed clit informed you you were good to sit back up again.

When you sat back up you saw Daniel’s eyes switching from the remote to you, making you bite your lip. You stood up and walked towards him, attempting to take the remote from him. He simply looked you in the eye, putting the remote in his pocket, keeping it out of your reach. You were desperate to find out what it felt like and what about it was so interesting to him. To you; it was just a small vibrator, you couldn’t wrap your head around why you couldn’t just use one you already had in your shared collection.

You and Daniel were never prudish when it came to experimenting between the sheets. There were plenty of times you had bought a toy when he was away for a few back to back races. He would always find out you had touched yourself when he was gone, which upset him slightly, but it turned him on at the same time. The thought of you in your bed, touching yourself, using a toy. The image alone sent the blood straight to his cock and nearly had him cumming on the spot. You’d always test the toys together, after you gave them a solo test run. They were addictive, the pleasure the toys gave both of you was immaculate. Sure, you had unreal orgasms without them, but there was something about them that just added a little spice to it. Your collection was expanding faster than you anticipated, with a variety of different toys. Safe to say you had tried a lot, using a toy in public was not one of those things.

“You’re not getting that remote, darling.” He mumbled in your ear before he turned around and walked out of the room, leaving you extremely frustrated.

About an hour later, your friends have all arrived and the party has started. The music was playing on high volume, drinks were flowing and you were all having a good time. You were so caught up in conversations with your friends that you completely forgot about the egg inside you. Your body had gotten used to the device stretching your walls so much that you forgot about it. That was until you sat down on the couch next to your boyfriend, who was chatting to one of your friends, a bottle of beer in one hand, the other in his pocket. You tried following the conversation they were having, which resulted unsuccessful due to the amount of wine you had already consumed. You stood up to reach for some of the snacks on the coffee table when you felt the vibrations in your core for the first time. Your hand fell on the table as you almost doubled over it. You quickly recovered before standing up, turning to your boyfriend who had a devilish smile stuck on his features. You attempted to sit down, the device still vibrating, with every move you made, you felt the device in another, but better way. As you sat down, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan. You reached for your boyfriend's arm, signalling for him to turn it off, scared that everyone could hear the device.

“You good, Y/N?” One of your friends asked. You nodded, hoping you’d convince your friends. Daniel chuckled again, increasing the speed rather than turning it off. Your head spun in his direction, eyes wide, only making Daniel laugh harder before turning it off.

Most of the night was spent by Daniel teasing you with the remote in his control. You shot him several shocked looks, yet your friends were still oblivious to your activities. You stayed close to Daniel, strategically bending over right in front of him, giving him a view of your ass. You noticed the fabric of his pants got tighter during the evening, letting you know he was enjoying the shows you were giving him, as much as the shows he was creating himself.

You were reaching the point of soaking wet panties, with your arousal practically running down your thighs. When Daniel turned the device on yet again, you dragged him towards the closest room you could find in your apartment; the laundry room would do perfectly well.

“This is over.” You groaned. You pushed him in, not even bothering locking the door before your hands found his belt, undoing it in no time along with the button and zipper of his jeans. You pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, his hard cock sprung up, happy to be freed from the suffocation. You were practically drooling at the sight of his swollen, red tip, precum dripping from it.

You took his tip in your mouth, letting your tongue circle around it a few times. You turned the egg on as soon as you found the remote in his pocket. Moaning audibly at the sensation as you kissed along his length. You looked up at him as you took him in your mouth. He let his head fall back, reaching for the closest object to hold his balance. You started bobbing your head, hollowing out your cheeks, with the vibrator still going in you, your hand reached down to between your legs and in your panties. Your finger ran through your soaking wet folds before finding your throbbing clit, circling your finger around it.

“Don- fuck.. Babe, don’t fucking touch yourself.” He moaned, you pulled your hand out of your panties and quickly pulled them down before letting your hand return to your clit. You started bobbing your head faster as you felt your release coming close.

The small room was filled with Daniel’s loud moans, not even caring about your guests scattered around the apartment. His hips started twitching against your face. “I’m c-close, babe.” As he said it, your release washed all over you as you took him out of your mouth, You pulled his pants back up, not even bothering closing them back up. You turned off the vibrator before pulling it out and fixed your outfit real quick. You ran a quick hand through your hair and wiped off the leftover lipgloss you possibly still had on your lips.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself.” You hissed in his ear before pecking his lips and walking out the door, leaving Daniel starstruck in the laundry room.

You felt Daniels arms wrap around your waist from behind, his still present erection was now pressed against your ass. You grinned, turning your head around to him. “I think it’s time to head to bed in a minute, what do you think?” He stated a little too loud, making some of your friends look in your direction. You quickly shook your head, smiling widely. Your plan was working.

“No Daniel, that’s ridiculous. They all just got here, we would be such awful hosts if we sent them home now.” You laughed and bent your upper body slightly forward, pressing your ass against his hard cock a little firmer. You felt his heavy breath fanning in your neck, only making you laugh harder.

You turn around in his grip, facing him. “Don’t let yourself believe you’re allowed to tease me like that without consequences, sweetheart.” You smiled.

“This night isn’t over, babe. I can’t wait for all these people to leave my fucking house. I’ll let you and everyone around know that you’re not the boss here.” He said through gritted teeth. You released yourself from his grip and headed to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine and grab another bottle of beer from the fridge.

You walked back to the living room, handing the bottle of beer to your boyfriend. “Thought I’d be nice to you for once this evening.” You mumble. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

“I have been tempted to leave for the states again, seeing this is how you treat me when I show up surprising you for your birthday.” He mumbled in your ear. You smiled, knowing very well he was only joking.

“I love you, Dan.” You placed a hand on his chest, standing close against him, like always.

“I love you too, babe. And I love you even more when you suck me off like you did back there.” A sly smile plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes before downing the wine in your glass. “Send everyone home.” You state.

“Why? Thought you didn’t want that.” He smiled.

“Just do it. Don’t ask stupid questions, Just tell them I’m not feeling good and that we want to go to bed.” You loosened yourself from his grip and headed to your bedroom, not even feeling like saying goodbye to your friends.

You made your way to the bathroom where you took off your dress and lingerie. You wrapped your body in your long silk robe before continuing your nightly routine and heading back to the bedroom where you dressed yourself in another one of Daniel’s favorite sets. You wrapped the robe back around your body before laying down on the bed, the lights in your dark bedroom were dimmed, just enough to slightly reflect your silhouette in the black silk robe. Your curled hair was fanned out on the bed around your face as you impatiently waited for your boyfriend to arrive, which he did, about two seconds later.

He stormed over to you while undressing himself aggressively. He crawled onto the bed, wasting no time in undoing the knot in the strap of your robe. “Fuck, you’ve changed it.” He moaned, letting his head dip down to the valley between your clothed boobs, his mouth discovered the all too familiar area.

He scooped you up in his arms as he got off the bed. He walked towards one of the bedside tables, rummaging through one of the drawers, picking out several items. You bit your lip at the thought of him fucking you with the toys. He walked back to you with the blindfold and handcuffs.

“Turn around.”

You quickly turned around. Your back is now facing him. He took your vision away by putting the blindfold on, instantly turning you on. He moved your hair to one side before planting tender kisses on the back of your neck. Your breathing hitched a few times.

He led you to what you assumed was your bed, gently laying you down. You felt the mattress dip down on both sides of your hips before you felt the warmth of his body against yours. He took both your arms and brought them to above your head. You heard some sort of metal ringle in his hands- the handcuffs. You bit your lip at the thought of being relentlessly fucked by your boyfriend. He tied your hands together with the handcuffs, the metal felt cold against your wrists.

“Dan-” You moaned. “I need you. Now.”

Daniel didn’t say anything, instead he crashed his lips into yours while his hands found the hook of your lace bralette, pulling it off of you as soon as he unhooked it. His hands found your boobs, kneading them both before his lips started to trail down your body.

His lips briefly played with your nipples before you felt him continue his way down your stomach, you started breathing heavier the further down your body he got. He wasted little time pulling your panties down. You felt his face hover over your now dripping core, making your entire body twitch under him. You bucked your hips against his face, in desperate need of his touch. His hand pressed your hips down on the bed, holding a firm grip. His breath fanned over you, sending shivers down your entire body.

“Daniel. Please.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut. The fact that your hands were tied cuffed and your vision was taken away from you only added to the burning sensation in your stomach. You bit your lip after another loud moan left your lips when you felt Daniel’s face lower between your legs, his one hand was still stimulating your boob, the other keeping your hips on the soft sheets below you. You felt his hand trail down from your boob towards your hip, resting it right in the fold at your hips - one thing he absolutely adored about your body. He squeezed the skin lightly.

“Why would I listen to someone who let herself finish, rather than her boyfriend.” He whispered. The feeling of his words vibrating against you made you wrestle underneath his grip. He chuckled lowly before finally running his tongue along your glistening folds. You immediately relaxed in his grip, still a moaning mess because of him. You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back the moans as his lips found your hardened clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. His fingers played with your entrance while you tried to break yourself out of the handcuffs, your wrists started burning due to the friction of the metal cuffs. You couldn’t have cared less, all you wanted to do was tangle your fingers in those deep brown curls tickling your thighs as his lips played with your clit and he entered two fingers in you.

“Mhm.. Very wet for me baby.”

“A-always.. Daddy, p-please.” You felt the need to beg him, although you were unsure what you were actually begging him for.

“What is it, darling?”

“I-” You breathed as he entered a third digit, increasing the speed of his fingers thrusting in you. He licked a stripe across your clit before planting a kiss just above it. “I need. You. In me.” You managed to bring out, you could feel the sly smile creeping up on his lips, internally rolling your eyes.

“Do you really?”

“Yes! Fuck, hurry up.”

“So you don’t want this?” He dipped his head down, crashing his lips on your clit again. A loud moan rolled off your lips as soon as you felt his digits curl inside you, perfectly hitting the right spot. “Baby, I need words.” You moaned in response as his lips returned to your clit, waiting for your answer.

“I’m- AH. I’m close, baby.” You whined, understandable enough for him to keep going like he was at that point.

“Dan. Please, I want to tou-” He silenced you mid sentence by moving up and pressing his lips on yours. You felt his thumb starting to circing figures on your clit, you heard the drawer open on the side of you before you heard him rummage through it until he, you suppose, found what he was looking for.

While his right hand was still working its magic on your core, getting you close to your high, you heard him turn on a device, you didn’t know which one it was from your collection. The vibrations becoming louder signalled you it was coming close to your body. You gasped slightly when you felt the vibrating toy on your boob, a moan leaving your lips at the sensation racing through your body. He slowly worked the device around your body, inching closer to your core. He worked the small device on your clit as his fingers continued to work their magic inside you. Your walls start clenching around his digits. The entire room was filled with your moans and pants, the fact that Daniel was silent and you still had no vision was mind blowing to you.

“Cum for me baby.” He mumbled, his face still between your legs, kissing your inner thigh.

His words were enough to make your walls clench around his fingers, your high washing all over you. You loudly moaned his name over and over again as he lapped up every last drop of your release. “Good girl.” he hummed against you.

Bliss was all over your features as you felt Daniel lift up your head to undo the blindfold, your eyes wet from the tears you failed to hold back. You lift up your still cuffed arms, hooking them around his neck and pulled him down. He crashed on top of you, pressing his lips on yours.

He pushed your arms off of him before undoing the cuffs around your wrists, kissing them both immediately after.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He whispered before wrapping his arms around you. He laid down next to you, with you still in his arms, you moved your head to rest on his chest.

“Thank you, I love you.” You mumbled, you were focussed on your fingers making random figures on his skin, tracing every little valley on his body.

“I love you too.” He sighed, struggling to stay awake. You were letting your fingers mindlessly roam his body, as they found their way to his dick Daniels eyes shot open at the subtle touch of your fingers against his member. “Baby, I’m tired.” He mumbled, letting his face lean against yours.

“But you didn’t get to cum baby.” You pouted, turning around so you were facing him. He knew you always loved making him cum, just as much as he loved returning the favor.

“It’s your birthday sweetheart. We’ll make up for it another time. Today is about you.” He smiled before pecking your lips. You quickly got up from the bed to get under the sheets as Daniel copied your actions. The two of you immediately found each other under the sheets, wrapping your arms around each other. Blissful smiles plastered on both your faces.

“I never want to lose you, Y/N.” You heard him whisper to himself. You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter before you drifted off to sleep in his grip.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 angst

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wingedcat13 · 2 years ago

Note

I found Call Me Menace yesterday, at around 3 am in the morning and then proceeded to read it and the available parts of Vilains Never Retire. I was hoping the next part would come out sooner rather than later, because the story was amazing, and I craved more. I was delighted to find that part 4 came out today, and I'm writing this after I've finished reading it. The whole story is brilliant and amazing and I'd love to see more of your work.

But anyway, as for the actual question, how do you come up with and weave in all of those details in your writing? Is it something you plan beforehand or do you come up with it on the fly? If it's a combination, then how much of each do you do?

Anyways, once again, the Synoverse is fantastic.

Thank you!

It depends on what you mean by 'details,' I think. A lot of it comes from spur-of-the-moment ideas. I'm not sure if I have ADHD or just what my mom jokingly calls 'ADHD-by-proxy' since both her and my brother have it, so weaving different threads of thought together and juggling multiple topics is kind of just my natural state of being at this point.

Other things are more if-this-then-what's-reasonable-for-that. For example, Synovus gets caught by surprise in Call Me Menace when Athena shows up with Alexandria. They were surprised out of sleep. You can't really set alarms that far out, and Athena moves fast, so the alarms are at set increasing intervals, like a really, really annoying alarm clock. Synovus wears a costume that covers the entirety of their body - ergo, they don't need to do the normal hair-and-teeth routine when getting dressed, particularly in they're in a hurry. They haven't slept, so when they go to have a conversation about morality, they want some caffeine. Can't drink in a helmet, so helmet comes off. Still haven't had time to go tend to personal hygiene, so Synovus's got a bedhead.

Things like the concrete joke and the garbage bags references developed naturally - concrete because I realized that it was the most common building material I could think of getting thrown around in hero movies, and figured Synovus would have developed a particular distaste for it. The garbage joke was initially just something I wanted to give Alexandria as an indicator of her character, and then it became a conscious call-back when Alex and Syn were starting to find common ground. (And also a joke about all-black costumes)

Other times, however, I will completely forget to include things. For example, there was supposed to be a scene in either VNR 1 or 2, before the Villain meeting, where Athena tried to get Synovus to swear to protect Alexandria, no matter what. Syn kinda half-dodged it, and left Athena believing that they'd sworn to it, which gives the end of that chapter much more weight. However, my brain completely ate that scene and it never made it to paper.

Whoops.

(Luckily, I do think it still works - Athena is instead referencing that Synovus didn't tell them the whole truth in Call Me Menace, or in the time since, but I do understand why some readers were confused by that.)

#ask box #call me menace #villains never retire #synoverse

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle #tw self harm #tw suicude #tw child abuse

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animefreak1145 · 3 years ago

Text

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

Previous Next

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.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

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?”

✯ ▙ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▞ ✯ ✯ ✯ ■ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▞ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▙ ✯

Ȳ̶͇̝͐ó̶̘̈ṵ̴̡͑͒ ̴̯̗̅ŵ̴̭͘â̸̭̼̤n̵̼͚̘͑t̶̠̮̯́̏ ̶̭̝̱̄́̅ţ̶̠̑̈̚ǫ̶̳̉́ ̴̘͖͊͊͘ͅ ̵̡͋́ṣ̶̞̆̚ ̴͚̲̕ț̸̓ộ̴̍̐p̴̣͓̾́ ̴̫̗̆͜ḫ̴̛̦͓́́ẽ̴̛̻̋ṛ̵̲̞͈̅͠ę̷̼̯͔̍̌͌?̶̫̩̆͆

̷̼̈́

̵̣̽̉͛

̶̝͋͂B̷̝̾̾u̸͚͊̕ţ̷̛̭͖̈́̾ ̶̱͑̔i̷̩͇̤̐ṯ̴̪̓̓ ̷̜͊d̸̆͜į̶̩͔̉̏d̵͔̓͝n̴̨͇͒’̵̰͑́͂ţ̸̯̯͋ ̷̧͖̣̿̒e̴̥͋͝n̴̘̱̿̕d̸̛̤̹̔ ̵̡̡̩̈̐h̷̫͔͂͜ë̴̺̜́͑͊ȑ̶̺͉͠ĕ̴̥̉.̴͕̭͌̕͠

̸̠̹̿̊̿

̸̠͊̅

̸͙͓̬̂͒͝Ë̶̼̙̭́͘̕ ̶̳͆v̵̱͙̿̋ ̴͔̇̋ę̷͚̫͆̃̈n̵̥̣͈̏̅ ̷͇̮͒͊ ̴̛̺ ̶̡͆t̶̢̘͒ḧ̷̺̉ě̸͓̼̂ͅ ̶̬̲̫̈b̶̟̪��̒ę̵͊͝s̶̟̱̐ţ̴͙̳̆̚ ̶͔̈́d̸̝̭͑̈́͒o̸͖͑̓g̸̨͌̈́̀s̴̹̫̖͗̅ ̶̯̝͛ḷ̶̬̔͌̐i̷̘̥̓́k̴͕̓͝ĕ̷̡̿̽́ ̵̖͗̾͘ţ̵̟̤̈́́̽ö̴͖͕͙́͗͝ ̴̦̂͊͝r̶͉͈̊̆̔ų̴̝̋̈ņ̶̼͛ ̶̭̦́.̶͔̇̄

̶̫̘͒̌̿

̵͓̱͇̆̕͠

̷̧̰̙̇͝B̶͕̐̐̓e̸̖̟̋ŝ̶̨t̵̗̎̀,̴̯̥̐̕ ̶͚͓̓̀́ť̶͐̂͜ŏ̸̢̿̉ ̵̨͎̄̿͆ć̷̣̓͑́ơ̶͔͓̋̿̔m̵̧̢̩̃ê̸̘̠̠ ̴̰̫͠͝ͅb̶͇̔̒ą̶̤̯̰̽͊c̸͈͗k̸̩͉͙̓̿ ̷̻̼̰͆ẃ̶̞͙̃͒͌ḧ̵̘͑̒̃e̵̜̰̓͘͝ń̶͙͒̚ ̵̪̖̥̊̈́ȑ̷̢̌̎ẽ̸̛͇̂ͅà̴̞̖̫d̸̤̺̽͛ỳ̴̰̊͝ ̷̠̌͝f̴̢́͊o̴͉̒͠r̷͕͙͙̽̋́ ̶͈̾̉t̴̥͒͘r̷͉̘̐́ų̸̠̔̋́t̴̨͚́̾h̷̖͕̯̀̒͛.̵̫̟̬̄

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“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)

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