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#and everything that everyone has chosen to say about these three since. man i don't even remember. october?
iridescentoracle · 1 month
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i am so obsessed with how like. taken as read the ot3 are at this point. like on the one hand it feels like they've been building up to this for ages but on the other hand it kind of feels like i blinked and we skipped right past some Major Turning Point where everything got spelled out and we're just already in firmly Established Relationship-land. obviously tarvek is too well-protected for anyone to assassinate openly, look how angry his boyfriend and girlfriend are at the idea of anyone threatening him. at this point i'm half-convinced agatha's just going to refer to her boyfriends in passing to someone else and no one's even going to comment on it until van finds out twenty pages later and immediately starts making everyone pay up
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thefanboyhub · 14 days
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Random ass head cannons I have for SBG gang yuh let's go:
Note/Update: Disregard the eye color thing for Aiden cuz the author has confirmed that his eyes are contacts ✨
Tyler will call people he likes (platonic or romantic) princess regardless of gender, mostly uses it when he's teasing them or in like idk a passive aggressive way. Like "No shit, princess." Or "Okay princes, calm down." Always paired with an eye roll tho.
Taylor hates Taylor Swift because of the annoying jokes people do with her name.
Adding to the last one, Aiden found that out when he made a joke once and she looked like she was about to throw him out the window lol.
Logan has helped everyone get their zodiac charts and read them. He fucking memorized them too. Little nerdy boy <3
Ashlyn doesn't initiate physical touch(hugs, hand holding, cuddling, ect) with people often (cannon btw), but when she does it always makes whoever was chosen feel special.
Ben listens to literally everything. All music. He's polyjamours.
Tyler is actually pretty good at guitar and was something he's liked since a kid, he loves music with heavy guitar in it. He also named his guitar Mel, like Melody. Only people to touch it was Taylor and Ben.
I see some people say Tyler has Logan tutor him but like. No? Tyler is hella smart and doesn't need to be tutored? Like c'mon. BUT Logan does have Tyler help him work out (Logan's body before and after phantom realm goes crazy man) after the whole almost died to phantom thing.
Aiden use to experiment with hair dye before he fell in love with blond. Also his eyes are red, it's not contacts. It's just his eye color lightening s he aged or smt. Fight me.
Ashlyn hates sour food and loves the more bitter stuff. Aiden loves sour food and hates bitter stuff. They trade food sometimes so they don't have to suffer.
Ben and Aiden know ASL, Taylor is learning to talk to Ben better.
Logan can draw but he doesn't do it often but he loves to watch Ben draw. It makes him want to draw too.
Taylor draws on her friends arms, Tyler will pretend to hate it same with Ash but they always ask her to redraw things when they fade. Aiden once had Taylor do an detailed tattoo like design on his arm in class. It didn't wash of for almost three weeks.
Aiden actually has sensitive skin, the wrong fabric gives him rashes. No one but him knows what fabric won't, it's all based on touch.
Tyler can cook really well, and even enjoys it sometimes. Can't bake for shit though.
Aiden knows ballroom dancing. Rich families or old fashioned one tend to know how to ballroom dance (I use to know)
That's all for now
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berat-yalaz · 1 month
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I MISSED YOU A LITTLE MORE TODAY:
I do not expect everybody to read this. If it's an issue, please just scroll on. It will be dealt with vaguely enough in follow up paragraphs and threads that the main points will be clear without it. This para, and the one that follows, are a bit depressing and deal with some very triggering topics that not everyone will want to read. That's completely okay and I understand if you scroll past. And whilst I know this is role play and it's supposed to be an escape where people don't have to deal with this shit, writing about it is important to me. But I do so fully understanding it's not for everyone's consumption. So please do what's best for you. I never intended to become this attached to Berat, but I also never intended him to be such a reflection of myself. The combination of depression and addiction that I put into his biography is devastating and life ruining and a difficult hurdle to overcome, and the reason it's the most personal and painful one I've ever written is because I understand how that feels. I also understand how the pain of loss compounds it day after day, and makes dealing with both almost impossible. I don't want to not write about this, because the struggle is so fundamental to his character that avoiding it would feel like a cop out. Not everything has a happy end. Not everybody makes it out the other side, because life isn't always as kind as it should be. That said, I want to make clear before the para, because the end is both vague and obviously foreshadowed: his upcoming death is not intentional on his part. The heroin is laced with fentanyl and he has no idea. But in a way, that seemed an even more fitting end than making it a purposeful choice. Still, proceed with caution for these two please. Next one will be from Ayaz later. Thank you. Date: March 16th, 2024. Warnings: Implied future drug use, severe depression, thoughts bordering on un-aliving oneself, precursor to overdose, precursor to character death. I tried to keep it vague, but it hints at a bad time.
How little would she think of him now?
It wouldn’t be unwarranted, of course, after all he’d done. After the pain he’d caused those he would so vehemently say meant the world to him.
Didn’t mean the idea hadn’t hurt, though.
“I missed you a little more today.”
It’d been a consistent routine; for those words, that admission, to be the last to leave him before he sought sleep. Survived one more day without her. This time, though, as Berat ventured further into the rundown and disorganised mess of a flat, he picked up the photograph of the woman in question from its home on the mantelpiece. Even the most beautiful smile in the world, the kindest eyes looking right back at him, couldn’t stop the hurt today. Neither were a match for the gnawing in his chest, and the guilt buried so deep in his gut he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten…
It’d been three weeks since Kerem had found out about him and Nevra.
Three weeks since he’d dared leave his home.
Three weeks since even Nazli had stopped trying.
And he deserved that, you know. He deserved to lose the only person who’d stuck by him through his darkest moments, because eventually, everyone had to run out of chances. Berat didn’t know whether it was the personal betrayal of Kerem that’d pushed her over the edge, or the fact he’d chosen the woman who’d been indirectly responsible for his downfall in the first place—a Rutherford sympathiser, to twist the knife—but she’d drawn a line, and he’d heard it loud and clear.
This time, he wasn’t worth the struggle.
And that was okay. And Berat didn’t blame her. And maybe it would have saved them all a whole lot of pain if she’d just made that same realisation a few years earlier.
The man flipped the pristine wooden frame he now held in his hands, carefully turning the clasps at the back so he could remove the photograph held within. Berat wasn’t sure he’d ever been bold enough to do so since he’d put it there; so scared of damaging one of the few tangible reminders he had left that he could only ever want to observe from a distance. Maybe that was a lesson he should’ve carried through into life, too. To not risk irreparably marring precious and beautiful things he’d never fucking deserved in the first place.  
He was holding it, then. A piece of paper in his hands all he had left.
And he was glad today that she was gone so she didn’t have to see him like this.
They all told him they wanted him to be happy, but he’d never asked it to find him the way it had. Life was cruel like that, he supposed. With one hand it gave, and the other, it took away so much. So why didn’t happiness ever seem to be an ultimatum for anybody else? Berat had never sought out Nevra expecting to love her the way he did, and he’d sure never done so with the intention of hurting his best friend. But for a man whose life had been so devoid of meaning and good and anything worth trying to be a better fucking person for, how could he not want for it?
You won’t let yourself be happy. And for a long time, that was because he didn’t feel he deserved to feel happiness in a life without Ceren.
But now he wanted for that relief with the only person who’d made him feel worthy since, and the brutal reality was that it meant walking all over somebody else’s in the process.
Did Kerem have the same dilemma when he’d found Emine?
Ayda, when she’d left him?
The slow, year-long retreat he’d made from them hadn’t been an accident, and surely they must have realised that by now. It hadn’t been because he didn’t care, or because he was so scared one of them would pick up on the signs that they’d catch him in a lie. It wasn’t self-preservation, it wasn’t self-pity, and it wasn’t a choice to move on. It was because he couldn’t fucking stand himself anymore. The mere sight of what looked back at him in the mirror fucking repulsed him. So why should they have been forced to endure him, too?
Even his mother felt the sting of distance. Because where his conscience apparently lacked so far as Kerem was concerned, he couldn’t put her through the pain of witnessing her son descend into yet another downward spiral.
The woman had suffered his poor choices for long enough.
Berat removed his phone from his pocket. Replaced it, slowly and carefully so as not to damage the edges or risk a fold, with the photograph of Ceren.
Oh, she deserved so much better than where they were going.
But he didn’t want to do it without her.
Didn’t want to do any of this without her, really.
He finally glanced down at his phone. The lock screen was littered with messages from people he was too ashamed to respond to; friends, family, people who’d been waiting for him to fuck up again. Because they all were. Even the ones who’d never admit it aloud because they liked him just enough to pretend they had faith he could do better. Kerem was one of them. Whilst he might’ve loved his friend, Berat could always see it in his eyes; gaze somewhere between disappointed and pitying. But none of them had expected something like this.
But neither had he, and that seemed to be lost on them.
One name stood out from all the others, and for a brief moment, he smiled. He smiled in spite of all that’d happened, in spite of his nausea, in spite of the exhaustion, in spite of feeling so trapped that he still couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel he’d forced himself into.
Nevra.
Wondering where he was, no doubt.
‘I love you.’
And that message he carefully typed out with unsteady hands wasn’t a warning sign in itself when he told her as much every chance he got. Told her with the sincerity and gratitude of a man who’d never thought he’d say the words again and mean them like this.
Because Berat did love her.
Hadn’t meant to. Hadn’t wanted to. Couldn’t help it, though.
A part of him had known from the start that there was never going to be a happy ending for them. Never going to be a ‘them’ for the long haul at all and he’d tried to make her understand that before they got too deep. His reluctance to deal with their situation, to be open about what was happening, to speak with Kerem so they didn’t have to keep living a lie had been frustrating for a woman who deserved better. Certainly, deserved more than he could ever give. But his aversion to confronting his choices had less to do with cowardice and more to do with fear of losing the one person in his life who made breathing a little easier.
Fear of losing this beautiful and unexpected thing he didn’t deserve, but was too selfish to give up.
Yet now, he realised none of it mattered. He was going to lose it all, regardless.
Maybe that was okay, though. Maybe he’d just deal with it like he always did.
Maybe he’d just fucking suffocate under the weight.
Maybe he’d die.
Berat reached into a glass dish to grab a handful of fifties. The Turk could hardly be ashamed of stooping so low as to pawn a sentimental watch after all he’d done. It was too small a guilt to scratch the surface. A small mercy, he supposed.
He put out extra food for the dogs. Extra water, too.
Left the television on so they’d at least have the illusion of company until his mum showed up to take them for breakfast in the morning.
Berat didn’t know when he’d make it back, but he was hoping it’d be a while.
Long enough to take the edge off. Long enough to stop feeling.
“I’ll be there soon,” he reminded her out loud as his hand slipped in to feel for the photograph in his pocket.
If only someone would just let him.
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The Key to Your Heart (Part 16 of 18)
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader | The Winter Soldier X Reader
Chapter word count: 1.9 K
Summary: Joining the Avengers wasn't on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away... But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That's exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders...
<- Previous part (15)
Next part -> (17)
{Marvel Masterlist}
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Loneliness
By the moment Thor throws the glass on the floor, shattering it, all smiles and cheers, you feel Bucky's eyes on you. Yours though, are on the lemon cake you barely touched.
“(Y/N), what–” You don't let him speak, you get up and run. Run from him, from the tension that ripped suddenly. From the perplexed stares from those who didn't know and the worried face from those who did. You just run.
But he comes right after.
“(Y/N), stop.” His voice is harsh, volume already altered. Bucky is a smart man, he's already putting the puzzle together. And the image is scary.
You stop by the hall, safely near to your bedroom in case you need to run further, and hide from him. “Enough of this, Bucky.” You say, tears already rolling down. “I know what you'll ask so I'll just say it. I married the Soldier. Around... Six months ago. And I'm pregnant. The supersoldier serum didn't make you sterile after all.” The words flow out, like knives, ready to kill whatever you had with Bucky.
“What? You...” He takes a step back, confusion all over his face. “How could you? How could you?” He's yelling now, and you step back too, closing your eyes tight. You deserve this, his anger. “This–This is nasty. This is beyond any–”
“I know! I know that I–”
“No, you'll listen! You'll listen to everything I have to say. You knew I was never comfortable with you being around the Winter Soldier. You knew it. And you go and get married to him? Has sex with him? Did he–” He stops, running a hand through his hair. His voice is deafening. “Did he hurt you? Was he even kind? I don't even know! Because you did all that, breaking the only promise I asked of you. To tell me everything that you and the Soldier did. So I could at least have some peace of mind. The only damn thing, (Y/N)!”
There's a pain in your chest, your heart, your womb. It's not right. Something is not right. And you, you're a coward.
You don't say anything, you just get inside your room, and give F.R.I.D.A.Y. the command to lock you up, so he won't be able to come through the door. Then, you start to pack up. And you wait. And you cry. For hours, until the screams are over until it's too late at night for someone to come looking for you.
Then, with a single backpack, stuffed with everything you'll need, you move. You tiptoe through the compound, all the way to the garage. But the cars most likely have trackers, wouldn't take much for Tony to find you. So you drive to the most hectic part of New York, gets to the first ATM to get as much money as you can, basically clearing your bank account before breaking the credit card, given by Tony, into pieces. If you access your account, he could tell you your location.
Then, you take three cabs to the airport, and four planes to the final destination, which was only chosen in the middle of your trip to nowhere.
It takes many hours, endless, until you reach the small, wooden cabin somewhere on a Scotland island named Barra. The closest house is a mile away, and the cabin is placed on a mountain. But you don't know much about the view since you ran inside to cry the tears that got stuck in you through the trip.
You're alone.
You lost Bucky.
And you left the Soldier.
Won't you ever stop making the wrong decisions?
These thoughts don't leave you alone as the days go by.
The place is beautiful. The grass, the mountains behind your cabin, the valley ahead, and the beach, miles away. It's wonderful, but you're also lonely.
A couple of weeks in, you bought an old car to go into town. It's a small town, but its people are kind. And lucky for you, nobody recognizes you.
A couple of months later, you find a doctor. Not an obstetrician, but she's the one who takes care of the pregnant woman here.
You're alone through your first ultrasound.
At night, in bed, staring at the ceiling or through the window, at the dark sky, you imagine having him here, during the ultrasounds. This isn't how you planned it, but you're the more coward superhero that ever existed because you can't go back. Even though it kills you not to have news. Here, you're completely isolated. No internet, no phone signal, nothing. Just electricity.
There's a TV but you don't want to risk seeing any of them on the news.
So you read. You have piles of books through the living room when you're through week twenty-five, six months pregnant. Your belly is swollen, and you read to the baby a lot. But sometimes you go silent, just in case he or she gets tired of your voice. You don't know the sex yet, you want it to be a surprise.
But what is it worth? A surprise only for you? A surprise is nothing if it can't be shared with the ones you love. Your friends. Your family.
But still, you don't know. And you haven't thought of names yet. Wouldn't it be unfair to name the kid without the father's opinion on the matter? But then again, you made a lot of unfair choices. Choices that got you here, alone, drowning in the solitude you deserve.
You created this world, you will bear it.
“Alright, baby. Let's get some sleep, shall we?” Softly, you speak to the fresh soul inside you, caressing them through your belly. “Mommy is tired.” Putting the toothbrush away and coming out of the bathroom, you hear a knock. The house isn't big, so you hear it, even from your bedroom. “Who could it be?” You whisper, a hand clenched as you scan the surrounding areas, making sure the dark pink waves stay down, near the grass, so it won't be seen.
But there's nobody.
Moving to the front door, you unlock and pull it open before looking around. Again, nobody. But on the ground, there was a small, golden box. Picking it up with your powers, you walk back inside before opening it.
Immediately, tears come to your eyes.
It's a tiny rattle, also golden. When shaken, it makes a soft sound, like little metal balls inside a glass. By the looks of it, it's not something made by humans. It was made somewhere else, for different kind of babies.
Looking up, you smile. “Tell him I loved it. That I say thank you.” Talking to Heimdall is even weirder now, that you don't really talk to anyone.
In the distance, a low Thunder can be heard.
“Your first, toy, baby. You'll love uncle Thor. He's–” Your shaking the rattle near your belly when the light comes out of it. And right in front of you, surrounded by an irregular frame of light, two faces appear.
Your brother and the love of your life.
“I know how you must feel. I can imagine it. And I know you hate me at the moment, but there are so many things you must consider.” Steve says, and you cover your mouth when a sob comes.
You miss them so badly. You want to step into this image and hug them.
“I don't think you can.” Bucky replies, running a hand through his hair. He's sad. Devastated.
“Bucky, honestly, if I found a woman like (Y/N), pregnant with my baby, even in such circumstances, I wouldn't back down. It would take some time, some talking to sort things out, but I wouldn't just let her go. Not if I loved her, not if I could have a family with her.” Steve is trying to fix things up. Even though you screwed up. He's still trying to fix things for both you and Bucky.
“Nobody knows where she is.” He says, hands folded on the table, eyes on his hands. “She vanished like smoke in the air.”
“There's someone who can find her.” Steve adds, and Bucky looks up at him. “I know you've been fighting harder. I know you've been trying to keep him down so he won't come into this mess. But you know he can find her.”
“Maybe not. It's been three months.”
Three months? This isn't happening now. It's some kind of Asgardian record.
“He will. Trust me. I don't think she will come back on her own. She thinks she lost you, that she broke your heart, and I know her. She probably thinks you don't want to see her ever again or that you'll be better off without her.”
“So you're asking the Soldier for help?”
“I'm asking you to let him come. For the first time, willingly let him wake up. For her.”
And then, it's gone, you're alone with nothing but the echo of your thoughts. You try shaking the rattle again, but the toy is only a toy again.
Sighing, you walk the way back to your bedroom, sitting on the bed and placing the rattle next to you. Touching your belly, you try not to cry.
“What am I supposed to do now?” You ask yourself, wondering if you could even do anything. It's been two months since they had that talk, so that means not even the Soldier could find you.
You did a hell of a good job hiding from the world.
•••
A week isn't enough to make you forget what you saw. Not even two.
Being seven months pregnant now, you're getting more tired. You have to pay a woman to do the house cleaning because you can't anymore. But what worries you the most is how close labor is. There's only one woman who does the labor in this town, and she lives too far away.
You're seated by the window in the leaving room, a mug with hot cocoa in hand as you watch the night taking over. It comes to you that the night doesn't fall, it rises. Looking East, you can see it, perfectly, as the darkness rises, just like the sun. And it's beautiful.
“(Y/N).”
The voice, so weird in constant the silence of your house, makes you stand up, dropping a thankfully empty mug to the floor. The noise echoes, but you're not sure you hear it.
He stands near the couch, and you back yourself up against the wall, a hand on your belly. But you don't act out of fear. You act out of guilt.
“S-Soldier?” Your voice is weak, barely audible. It's been so long that you wonder if he still loves you. Or maybe time away from your family felt three times longer than it actually was. “H-how... How did you–”
“I know everything.”
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bookloover35 · 5 months
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Frederick Abberline X fem reader- You should not love me (3).
Abberline POV:
Hope Miss Yn will come and meet me here tonight.
With her help, I can get one step closer to catching Jack The Ripper.
But if I'm being completely honest.
I have been fascinated by her since I met her.
There's something about her that keeps me from focusing on the case.
And I know I have to focus.
But she's so gorgeous and I don't know if it's her magical eyes that are (e,c) or her long hair that is (h,c).
Everything is perfect from her soft voice, beautiful smile to her curvy body.
I want her to be mine.
I looked towards the lamp post and there she was.
Abberline: Good evening Miss Yn.
Yn: Good evening Mr. Abberline.
Abberline: Please Miss Yn call me Frederick, Mr Abberline makes me sound so old.
Yn: Only if you call me Yn.
Abberline: Okay thanks for choosing to meet me tonight.
Didn't think you would come because you were afraid of what people would say about you.
Yn: If meeting with you can help you catch the bastard who hurt my friend and can stop him from doing this again, I don't care what people think of me.
People already believe a lot of things about me.
So I don't care anymore.
Yns Pov:
He held out his hand for me to take.
At first I hesitated but when our eyes met I put my hand in his.
His hand was warm and soft my cheeks were getting hotter and hotter.
What is wrong with me?
I held his arm as we walked over to him.
People were staring at us but I didn't care.
I have to admit it felt a little powerful how people were looking at us.
And if you have to admit, Mr. Abberline is a very handsome man.
With his long short brown hair and his amazing smile.
Abberline: Is it okay if I ask you some questions?
Yn: Feel free to ask your questions.
Abberline: How old are you?
Yn: 27.
Abberline: Twenty-seven, you're so young, may I ask how you ended up out here on the street?
Yn: It's like all of us other women out here.
My parents died when I was eighteen, and my parents lost all our money and I lost our house.
Three years later I married a man my mother had chosen for me.
He was a fantastic man, he was kind to me and loved me.
But the problem was that I never loved him the same way.
And he knew about it but still he stayed with me.
He said he loved me anyway.
Five months into our marriage, he died of heart problems.
And then I was left alone with no money, no house and no husband.
Abberline: Children?
Yn: No children.
My husband and I never consummated our marriage.
I've never been with a man.
Abberline: But you are a woman of the night.
Yn: A whore you mean like everyone else calls me.
I fake it with my customers and I'm always lucky they're always too drunk to notice.
Please don't ask me how I do it.
If I'm going to sleep with a man then it should be with someone I love.
You probably think I'm crazy.
He made us stop and put his other hand on my cheek, and looked me deep in the eyes and said.
Abberline: I don't think you sound crazy at all Yn.
And any man would be happy to have you as his wife.
5 years later.
( Sorry I'm running out of ideas so it has to be this way.)
Today it is five years since that night and after that night Frederick and I became good friends.
Unfortunately the murders were not stopped and the day we found Kelly's body he confessed his love for me and wanted me to come with him so the next victim wouldn't be me.
It took me a long time to admit that I loved him too.
But as I said five years later, we live together, married and we have two fantastic children, a little girl and a little boy.
Mary Abberline and Derek Abberline.
The end.
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formayhem · 9 months
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5 Songs Tag - QL Shows Edition
Created by @troubled-mind (see the original chart-like list and the first 5 QL Song Tag entry).
The rules:
When you get this, list 5 songs from Asian QL shows that you actually listen to.
🎶 They do not have to be custom-made for the series.
🎶 Non-western tracks only. Let's support Asian music and languages!
🎶 Feel free to tag anyone who may be interested in participating.
🎶 Add #5qls tag to your post for others to find the new favourites!
I will definitely go over 5 because I am horrible at absolutes. Absolutely terrible. I guess that's my only absolute? That I absolutely can't stay in the confines of a limit. Yeah.
So, here we go.
You are my baby(+正負之間 plus & Minus》片頭曲
Plus and Minus
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It's nothing to write home about, but it's feel good and I always caught myself not skipping the intro and singing along (lol) during the scenes it started up.
Sweet but Naughty - Fluke Gawin
The Warp Effect
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The theme here is that I like FUN songs. But, okay, yeah, I can actually sing a long to this one easier (since I know what's being said). Plus it's Gawin. I just love him, alright.
Who - Wetter
The Eighth Sense
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I like all three songs from this band in the series. However, I like "Love Is All Around" an awful lot and I guess I owe it to this show for introducing us. 🤝
หนุ่ย อำพล - ยังไงก็โดน
3 Will Be Free
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This has actually made it to playlists unrelated to BL (like my writing themed ones). I'm a huge fan of this 80s/90s sound, and it's just so versatile. The whole series had an amazing soundtrack.
Why Don't You Stay (World Tour Version) - Jeff Satur
KinnPorsche
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Me: I LOVE FUN
Also Me: (puts on this anthem to do dishes)
It is probably over chosen, so I chose the version that's been on *my* repeat list: the world tour & English version. Dude has fantastic vocals.
Slow Motion - 77Ke 棨棋
About Youth
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I've had this song for (literally) a day, and I've already listened to it tooooo many times. I'm not sure if there are any other good ones from this series yet, but this is joining the rotation. 😎
กีดกัน (Skyline) - Billkin
I Told Sunset About You
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Oh, like everyone didn't see THAT coming. There isn't anything to say about this one, except EVERYTHING. I love it, your honor, truly, madly, deeply doooooo
Special mention to this non-asian track:
I'll Understand - Roza
Not Me & About Youth
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I know I JUST said I love FUN songs, and now I'm sharing another hit from the saddest shit known to man. It's good though. The lyric " cause when you travel light, some things are left behind" haunts me endlessly.
Also, basically ALL of Not Me and ITSAY's soundtracks, thank you.
Thanks for the tag @twig-tea!
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tuesday again 12/6/22
tuesday again no problem will be taking a break next week, and will return on 12/20/22
listening
rich people by carsie blanton. this is an understated, acoustic little thing with piano and upright bass that builds up with some snaps and some...not quite call and response but something similar. it is direct and to the point, very much in the vein of labor songs and union songs.
youtube
i, very hard of hearing, transcribed this by HAND off spotify before i found this video bc i liked the lyrics so much. you're welcome.
Who run the world? It ain't the Jews Rich people don't pay no dues Who did the crime? It ain't the blacks Rich people don't pay no taxes Who took your job? It ain't immigration Rich people with corporations Who threw the vote? It ain't rednecks Rich people with thick fat checks
this interview is from two years ago (and reading about how seriously everyone took covid two years ago is...disheartening, now in the winter of 2022) but is a good answer to a really vague question about how she puts a song together (also explains why it pings so many of the union/labor song associations in my head):
I would say what I’m aware of in songwriting is that if you’re trying to fit a message into a song, it had better be a really catchy, exciting, fun song, because otherwise the message will not be heard. So I think I’m a songwriter first, and most of the songwriting I admire is what I would call American popular songs. So most of my favorite songwriters will just try to write a hit. That’s true in the ‘30s and ‘40s and in the Motown era. So that’s the writing I really admire. And I think in trying to get political messages into songs, I try to make the hook the thing that drives everything else. So it has to have the right energy, it has to have a catchy melody, or nobody cares to listen to the message.
ty to spotify weekly recs??? the least expected source
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reading
Batman: Noël is a 2011 graphic novel written and illustrated by Lee Bermejo. dipping a toe back into reading with some batman comics. i love batman oneoffs bc there are eleven billion of them and i don't have to have read several thousand other comics to understand them. this one's schtick is: what if batman is scrooge? it's not very successful in the storytelling aspect of this, bc by DC editorial mandate batman and gotham cannot change or grow.
however! it is beautifully rendered. this spread was quite lovely imo, very funny to think sixties tv show batman and edgy grimdark 2010s batman are the same guy
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this was chosen at whim from the selection available to me on my library's comics app hoopla. i have spent worse half hours
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watching
white christmas (1954, dir. Curtiz) while choosing and addressing holiday cards. in like 2016 i decided doing this the first weekend in december would be my new tradition and i have done it like three times since then. so it goes.
has this movie aged well? no. did i watch it many times every winter while growing up bc i was brunette and my sister was blond? yes. these women simply do not look related but that's neither here nor there
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playing
quick question, pokemon company
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who ARE these women. why are they in little caped costumes. i found the little group of three all together but beating them up didn't give me anything except more questions. what is their DEAL
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making
pasta failure. i have two boxes of mostaccioli (penne with no grooves) from really early in the pandemic when instacart gave me that instead of normal begrooved penne. in the interest of eating my pantry down before i move, i made sausage and peppers with onions, threw the leftovers in some diced tomatoes, and threw all that on top of this pasta.
this did not work bc this pasta has no grooves and cannot hold the tomatoes. the peppers and onions, which are cut in strips (as sausage and peppers with onions is typically made) are a little more successful but this shit sucks man. and i still have another whole box. other than ziti (and even that's questionable, bc the sauce issue remains, also i hate ziti) i don't think there's a good use for this pasta and i'm not completely sure why it exists except as a cruel italian joke, maybe.
in other house news, i am begrudgingly hanging more things bc i do want this joint to look a little less bare for when my siblings come.
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in three columns left to right and then describing the columns from top to bottom:
postcard from the museum of sex in manhattan, postcard from my grandfather's collection, postcard from @believerindaydreams, cyanotype i did in high school
postcard from the restaurant my best friend's wedding reception was at, postcard from my sister when she went to japan, postcard from my sister when she went to france (no they are not flipped, also i had to trim this one without trimming any of the text and mack played with the sliver of cut off postcard for a solid forty minutes. acrobatic playing too, she was really going to fucking town smacking this sliver of postcard around)
another postcard from the best friend wedding reception restaurant, postcard from justseeds with a patreon backer reward postage stamp on top, patreon backer reward postcard from @calicojackofficial
i am not fucking around when i say i love postcards. this isn't even all the framed postcards in my house bc there are a series of five in one big frame, two in my room and two by my front door. plus some more in a box
and that's going to have to tide everyone over for the week break. i won't be totally offline (regular blogging, whatever the fuck that means, will probably continue) but i simply will not have the energy or time needed for a tuesdaypost
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exastrisnonnocere · 6 months
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Character Info Sheet
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NAME: Silas Lane Garcia Alderin
NAME MEANING: Silas meaning 'of the forest' from the Latin Silvanus and he is named after his paternal grandfather. Lane is masculinized from his mother's name Elena (specifically her nickname Lanie), which is the Spanish variation of the name Helen, meaning 'bright, shining light'. Silas's surname is officially Alderin, with his mother's first surname Garcia (of Garcia Villegas or Garcia-Villegas from the traditional dos apellidos convention) listed as a sort of second middle name, since Elena had elected to take her husband's name at the time of their marriage. Garcia is a Spanish surname meaning 'bear', while Alderin is a spelling variation of Aldrin, either from the Old English meaning 'old and wise ruler' or the Old Norse Áleifr meaning 'noble leader'. (OOC: surname was definitely chosen because Buzz Aldrin but also more because mun is a Lily Aldrin from HIMYM stan no regrets)
ALIAS/ES: Nicknamed Si (pronounced like sigh), also called Miguel by his grandfather after he developed dementia and often mistook Silas for his father, Michael.
ETHNICITY: Mexican (Mother's side) & British/Italian (Father's side)
ONE (1) PICTURE YOU LIKE BEST OF YOUR CHARACTER:
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THREE HCS YOU'VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE: ( I've been writing this man since 2012, I'm pretty sure I've told everything to one person or another at some point, so we'll go with some HCs I haven't posted on this blog yet. )
Silas is allergic to copper (and incidentally the blood and various other bodily fluids of Vulcans; he learned this the hard way with his Vulcan Academy boyfriend because I thought it was funny af and for literally no other reason)
He really, *really* enjoys getting flowers. Like, a lot. Give this lorge grown ass man flowers and watch him smile and blush.
Silas is not especially a fan of labels in regards to sexuality. Silas has almost exclusively dated men for almost twenty years, but he has also had many emotional relationships with women during that time. If pressed, he would say that he is primarily physically attracted to men and primarily emotionally attracted to women, though both attractions develop with either one, eventually. His relationships with men tend to be intensely passionate, but emotionally shallow or needlessly complicated, while his relationships with women are often deeply established before any kind of desire rears its head. Because of this, the women he falls in love with are usually already well-established as friends, and he declines to pursue any romantic involvement for the sake of the existing relationship.
THREE THINGS YOUR CHARACTER LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME:
Reading. This boy is always reading like five books at a time. He is partial to poetry and fiction, but he's also all up in the niche scientific and anthropological research spaces.
Cooking. He likes food. Real food. Replicators suck. The end.
Dancing/Singing. He sings while he's cooking. He dances in the shower. Music lives in his body at all times, thank you for coming to my TED talk.
EIGHT PEOPLE YOUR CHARACTER LIKES/LOVES: (PSA: multiship so each one exists in its own little verse unless there's an arranged poly situation going on; also, if you are not on this list don't worry, he likes almost everyone! I just picked the 8 who are closest to him currently and/or have been close to him for years; if we haven't interacted much or haven't discussed their relationship OOC then I don't like to make assumptions about it overall.)
Ten of Eleven aka Madeline - his baby girl, pride and joy, and the true love of his life, his adopted daughter.
Jin Kim - Long time OTP played off-site, biochemist with a crappy disposition but great legs.
Leonard McCoy (@onlybonesleft ) - Sometimes platonic soulmate, sometimes not platonic at all, but inevitably cut from the same cloth. Both men are too used to caring for others and not enough for themselves, so they pester each other into self-care submission and their relationship keeps me up at night because reasons.
Christine Chapel (@nursc ) - The bright spot in a shitty day but also 100% reliable when you need help on the floor. She knows her shit, she gets things done, she's the one he calls when he needs a hand. He hopes she knows she can count on him for the same. His work wife, his non-work wife, his gossip girl, his bestie. Can't live without her, doesn't want to.
Sergio Alderin - His middle brother, closest in age and the one he still sometimes talks to. Schoolteacher. Married to his childhood BFF.
Simon Castelo - His childhood BFF and brother-in-law, keeps him up to date with goings on in his brothers' lives more often than the brothers themselves, given their rocky relationships.
Michael (Mikey) Alderin Jr. - Youngest brother, wanderlust type with little guidance and direction in his life. Suffered in foster care and blames Silas for not being there to protect him.
James T. Kirk (@traiilblazer ) - On-again, off-again lovers, played off-site.
TWO THINGS YOUR CHARACTER REGRETS:
Losing his brothers. While they are all three alive and well, the relationship between them is strained. Silas leaving foster care and his subsequent failure to obtain custody of his younger brothers at the time of their parents' deaths is something he wishes had gone differently. He thinks he gave up too easily, that he should have tried harder. He also carries guilt because, deep down, his failure at the time had been a relief. Relief from the burden of trying to figure out how to provide for and raise his siblings when he, himself, was only 17.
Getting married. Not so much the relationships themselves, but the almost knee-jerk urge to put untested romances under the stress of a long-term, official commitment. Military marriages tho, amirite?
TWO PHOBIAS YOUR CHARACTER HAS:
Autophobia, also called monophobia, isolophobia, or eremophobia, is the specific phobia or a morbid fear or dread of oneself or of being alone, isolated, abandoned, and ignored. For Silas, this manifests as a fear of ending up alone or almost an expectation of abandonment. This is, incidentally, contrary to how he has operated throughout his life in the past, where he is and always has been fiercely independent out of necessity and often chooses not to rely on others for help or support. He often pursues relationships with individuals who need him in some way, rather than pursuing mutuality and emotional intimacy which would require him to be vulnerable, thereby ensuring that he both has intrinsic value to the other person and that if/when the relationship ends, he is not utterly destroyed by it. He believes that love exists, but he does not believe it exists for him or that he is deserving of it.
Trypanophobia is the extreme fear of medical procedures involving injections or hypodermic needles. This seems like an inconvenient fear for a doctor to have, however it only manifests when he himself is facing an injection or medical procedure, himself. The fear, at this point in his life, is fairly minor and easily overcome, however it was, at one point, severe and debilitating to his ability to work. Early in his career, Silas and a few others on his away team encountered a Borg vessel and were partially assimilated during that encounter. After being recovered, the various nanite appendages were surgically removed, but the initial trauma of being injected and losing identity and autonomy was heavily damaging to his mental state for some time after the event.
TAGGED BY STOLEN FROM: @ensnchekov TAGGING: @onlybonesleft & anyone else (if u want u don't have to)
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hintofelation99 · 3 years
Text
The Justice League Hangs out with Duke
Bruce: Duke, it's time we had the talk.
Duke: Uh... nope. No thank you. I'm not getting the sex talk from Batman.
Bruce: What? No! The Robin talk.
Duke: But, I'm- I'm the Signal now? Isn't it a bit late for a Robin talk?
Bruce: Son, it's never too late, not for this.
Duke: Um. Ok.
Bruce: When Dick, Jason, and Tim first started as Robins they created a tradition. A tradition that continued with Stephanie, Damian, and now you.
Duke: And that tradition is?
Bruce: Taking down the Justice League. By being annoying and slightly terrifying.
Duke: OHHHHHH. Is that why no one from the Justice League talks to me?
Bruce: Yes, yes it is. But don't worry. I made an arrangement that will allow you time alone with league members to continue the tradition. You have a week to prepare.
——————
Duke: Cass, what do I do?
Cass raises an eyebrow at Duke.
Duke: For the Robin tradition thing. I have to take down the entire Justice League in a night using creative, outlandish, and original methods. But it's already been done by Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and Steph. So what do I do? How can I be better than all of them.
Cass smirks: Take them down too.
Duke looking at Cass like she's crazy: What?
Cass: Take. Them. Down.
Duke: Holy shit, you are terrifying.
Cass just smiles and leaves.
-> One Week Later <-
Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Black Canary, Martian Manhunter, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and Steph gather in the Watchtower.
Duke: Hey guys, Batman just wanted to go through some training exercises with everyone. He'll be a little late. Harley and Ivy escaped Arkham and are trying to grow penis shaped shrubs in all the public parks. But, don't worry he asked me to go ahead and start with out him.
Green Lantern: Why are you leading this meeting?
Duke: Batman is running late and he wants me to practice leading meetings.
Green Lantern, glaring suspiciously at Duke: Are you about to do that stupid Robin tradition where you torture all of us?
Duke: What Robin tradition? Also, I'm not even a Robin? I'm the Signal.
Green Lantern continues to glare at him.
Superman: Calm down Green Lantern, the Robins never do this in front of each other.
Every League member seems to relax at this.
Duke acting confused: Uhhh, yeah. Ok, we have a few housekeeping things to do according to the list Batman left. So, I'll have everyone pair up for sparring while I handle these individually.
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Everyone is in the training room working out or sparring. Duke approaches Tim.
Duke: Hey Tim, Bruce wanted you to look in to that Bludhaven case. Is that ok with you?
Tim: Yeah, why wouldn't it be?
Duke: Oh, I just thought it might be difficult considering what Dick did.
Tim: ...What did he do?
Duke: Wait, you haven't noticed? Oh no, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything.
Tim: Duke. Tell me what he did.
Duke: Well, Jason said that he replaced all your coffee with decaf.
Tim: THAT BASTARD. No wonder I've been feeling so tired! I'm going to kill him!
Duke: Wait, just stop! I heard that he hid all of it in Green Lantern's room.
Tim: Wait, why there?
Duke: Something about you being afraid of him.
Tim: WHAT?! I'm not afraid of the Green Nightlight! I'm gonna find that coffee then make Dick pay.
Duke: Oh, well cool, good luck!
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Green Lantern: Um, what are you doing in my room?
Tim: Where is it?
Green Lantern: Where's what?
Tim: You know what I want. Give up now or face the consequences.
Green Lantern: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
Tim: Fine. Consequences.
------
Steph, sparring with Duke: So, what's it like being the first meta bat?
Duke: Not too bad, but I could do with out the whole 'predict the future' thing.
Steph, laughing: What? You can not see the future.
Duke: I bet you $50 I can
Steph: Your on.
Duke, makes everything around him light up and uses a weird voice: In the next thirty minutes Green Lantern will flee the Watchtower in fear. Soon after Dick will be attacked by Tim.
Steph, snorts in obvious disbelief.
Steph: That was so fake-
Green Lantern runs out of the tower looking terrified.
Steph: No way.
Tim tackles Dick and they start fighting like three year old's on the floor.
Steph, handing Duke $50: Holy shit Magic Man.
Duke makes things light up and does the voice again: Oh my god.
Steph, looking excited: What?!
Duke: The- the sushi. The sushi you brought today, it's made from-
Duke pretends to choke back a sob.
Duke: It's made from the fish who was the maid of honor at Aquaman's wedding.
Steph: HOLY SHIT.
------
Steph and Aquaman sit beside each other for lunch, she pulls out her sushi and looks at Aquaman sadly.
Steph: I am so, so sorry for your loss. But just know that her sacrifice is not in vain.
Aquaman, looks confused for a second then sees the sushi: NOPE. Not this again! I'm leaving.
Steph: Wait! I'm sorry!
Aquaman leaves as Steph tries to chase him down.
------
Jason is laughing and filming as Dick and Tim fight.
Duke, whistles: Man, imagine if that video went on YouTube.
Jason, looking confused: What?
Duke: I'm just saying if the video of Red Robin and Nightwing fighting like kids ever got on YouTube, it'd go viral. Oh and they would be so pissed!
Jason, laughs: Too bad B would kill me if I uploaded this.
Duke: Yeah, I guess so. And you can't upload it here because then Superman would get in trouble.
Jason: Why would the boy scout get in trouble?
Duke: Cause he always uses his YouTube account on the Justice League computer. So it'd look like he uploaded it and B would find out that Superman watches cat videos while he's on monitor duty.
Jason, smirking: Huh, so you're saying if I upload this on the League computer I'd piss off Bruce, Tim, and Dick and get Supes in trouble?
Duke, acting innocent: Huh, I guess so.
-> A Few Minutes Later <-
A call from Bruce comes up on the main computer.
Superman: Hey Batman, what can I do for you?
Bruce: You, Red Hood, cave now.
Jason: What? Why me?
Bruce: Because I saw that little home video you uploaded of your brothers.
Jason: What, that wasn't me!
Bruce: I could hear you laughing while you filmed.
Jason: Dammit.
Jason and Clark leave for the cave pouting like kids.
------
Duke: Hey, Black Canary?
Black Canary: Yes Duke?
Duke: I'm sorry to do this on such short notice, but I'm very worried about Dick and Tim.
Black Canary: Why?
Duke: Well, Tim keeps claiming that Dick is out to get him. Something about Dick messing with his coffee? And Dick feels like he's just being attacked for no reason and is worried about Tim's health. Is there anyway you could intervene?
Black Canary, looking sighing and looking exhausted: Usually I have three days of preparation before dealing with bats.
Duke: I know it's just-
Duke gestures to Tim and Dick rolling on the floor fighting.
Duke: They really need help.
Black Canary: Alright, I'll see what I can do.
Black Canary attempts to intervene only to get pulled into the fight. Now the three of them are tangled in a huge, confusing fight, that's filled with yelling and hair pulling.
------
Duke: Damian! Quick!
Damian: What is it Thomas.
Duke: I think somethings wrong with Dick and Tim and maybe even Black Canary. They're all fighting and won't stop! Can you help me contain them so that we can figure out what's going on?
Damian: Fine. I shall help.
Duke: Ok, just try to herd them into this containment cell.
Damian joins the fight managing to get everyone, including himself, into the containment cell. As Damian is trying to leave Duke closes the cell. Damian angrily yells and bangs on the sound proof walls.
Duke: What? Sorry, can't hear you! My hand slipped!
------
Wonder Woman: Very well done Signal.
Duke, acting innocent: Hm?
Wonder Woman: You tricked Red Robin into scaring Green Lantern away, then into fighting Nightwing. Once that fight broke out you tricked Red Hood into uploading a video to the internet using the Superman's credentials. By uploading that video he caused both himself and Superman to face Batman's wrath. You also used the fight to trick Stephanie into annoying Aquaman to the point of leaving. Then you involved Black Canary in the fight, which was her downfall. And, as a final touch, you managed to get Robin into the fight and trapped all in a containment cell. You successfully eliminated 9 foes with one trick.
Duke: You mean 11.
Wonder Woman: What?
Duke: 11. You see, I didn't trick Red Robin, I tricked Nightwing. I had a week to prepare. In that week I convinced Dick that Tim needed to cut back on the caffeine and that Dick should help by switching all of Tim's coffee with decaf. I also convinced him to hide that coffee in the watchtower, in Green Lantern's room. So that was all true.
Wonder Woman: But, that still does not make 11?
Duke: It does. Because This morning I moved the coffee. I replaced the Flashes decaf with Tim's ultra caffeinated coffee. You see Tim has it specially manufactured to increase the caffeine levels. And, while Flash doesn't usually drink his coffee in the morning, he's always running late and forgets, he does drink coffee during training breaks. Which is now. So in about five minutes we will have an incredibly caffeinated speedster in the Watchtower. And since you're the only one around right now with a chance of catching him, that's your problem.
Right as Duke finishes Flash runs by, majorly hyped up on caffeine.
Duke: Checkmate.
------
Martian Manhunter: It appears that I am the last remaining League member.
Duke: Yeah, I don't really understand this tradition but apparently every Robin ends it by picking a favorite league member.
Martian Manhunter: Out of all the League members, why have you chosen me?
Duke: Your smart and have a lot of cool powers. Also, I dunno, I hear you sometimes feel like an outsider with the league. Cause, the whole martian thing. And I know it's not the same but, sometimes I feel like an outsider with the bats, being the only meta and all.
Martian Manhunter: You have chosen me so that we may bond over our lack of connections?
Duke: Uhhhh, yeah?
Martian Manhunter: Hm. Very well, I assume that this is your “Robin Weakness”. Apparently every Robin has one.
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cherrycheridarling · 3 years
Text
chemistry test | t.h.
tom holland x actress!reader
warnings: fluff and acting..?
summary: you're auditioning for the role of silk in the new marvel film. they've already chosen their spider-man and now it's time to see how much chemistry you two have.
wc: 1.9k
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"Hi! I'm here for the Marvel auditions?" you greeted the lady who sat at the front desk.
"Hello! What's your name?"
"Y/N Y/L/N."
Nerves were running through your veins at lightning speed. The lady gave you a kind smile and told you to head to room three hundred and sixteen. You returned the smile before heading to the elevators.
Upon entering, you were faced with at least fifteen other women who were also auditioning. All with black locks and brown eyes. You'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly intimidated. Sure, you had done some small films here and there, but looking at the competition now was frightening. A lady came and handed all of you a small script. At least it was a distraction. You spent the entire time reading your lines and trying your hardest to memorize them.
You sat in the waiting room for at least fourty-five minutes before your name was finally called and you were escorted into another space. Once you entered, your eyes were immediately drawn to the long table where the producers, casting crew and directors - who you've met hundreds of times in your previous auditions - were sat. You shook hands and gave greetings, the usual.
"Y/N, meet our new Spider-Man." Kevin gestured to the brunette boy at the front of the room.
He was cute. Dangerously cute. His small curls that laid messily only seemed to add to his appeal.
You smiled and walked over to him, "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. It's great to meet you." you offered your hand.
He returned the grin before shaking your hand, "Tom Holland. It's a pleasure." you noticed his British accent and couldn't stop yourself from the confused expression that took over your features.
"You're British?"
He nodded with a smile, "That I am, but," he switched to an American accent, "I can turn it off, too."
Your smile grew, impressed by his ability, "That's so cool. I would try a British accent, but I feel like I might offend you."
He laughed with you for a bit, his hand still holding yours. You both noticed the predicament and quickly withdrew your hands. Sheepish grins showed on both your lips.
Joe Russo cleared his throat, "A little background information in case you're not familiar with Cindy Moon's story."
You silently thanked him for this since you were not at all familiar with whatever the character entailed. Only getting small glimpses of her personality and behaviour before you got thrown into the mix of auditions.
"Cindy and Peter went to the same school and got bitten by the same radioactive spider. A man took Cindy and trained her, but also hid her in a bunker when her powers became too much for her to control. Her Silk Sense – which is her version of a Spider Sense – is incredibly powerful. Stronger than Peter's. In this scene, Peter is saving her from the bunker. Understood?" he spoke so quickly that you nearly didn't catch it all, but nevertheless, you nodded your head.
"Got it." you put the script to the side and took off your jacket.
"Now," Kevin spoke, "Remember, this is a chemistry test. So we want to see – not just how compatible your characters are – but you guys, as well."
Your palms began to sweat. You already knew that they were looking for chemistry, but being put on the spot made your anxiety sky rocket. You nodded again in understanding.
"Sounds good." Tom went to the other side of the room, "Good luck." he sent you another frustratingly attractive smile.
You nodded with your own grin, "Thanks, Spidey."
You spotted a small cot beside you and made your way over, laying with your back to Tom. Ready to start the scene.
"Action!"
Before any lines were given, you lifted your head, but kept it facing the wall. As if you were listening for something, waiting for something.
"Spider- Boy? Guy? Spider-something." you spoke to the wall and a second later, Tom's footsteps were heard behind you.
"I prefer Spider-Man." Tom's voice filled your ears as he leaned against the wall. "Nice to meet you, Cindy Moon."
You held a hand to your head, as if a painful migraine had just arrived. "Your presence is causing me pain. Who-" you looked up at the man, recognition dawning on your features, "Peter."
"W-what? N-n-no, no, no. Who's Peter? I'm Spider-Man." he insisted rather poorly. Deepening his voice.
You turned your body around, hanging your legs off of the cot, "I-I feel it. I remember you. Parker from my science class. Left row, three seats behind me. And my math and history. Front row in history. Middle in math. You always had a new backpack every week."
"Eidetic memory." he mumbled under his breath.
"Hm?" you furrowed your eyebrows.
"Nothing. Never mind. We can discuss this later. You need to get out of here. And I have come to save you from whatever this place is." he eyed the space with disgust.
You eyed him suspiciously, "Is this some Disney movie? Is there a magical horse drawn carriage waiting outside?"
He showed a boyish grin, "I guess you can call me your knight in red and blue spandex."
You scoffed and stood up, "Okay, Parker. How'd you know I was here?"
"Oh! This awesome dude, Tony Stark, he knows, like, everything! A-and he told me that you were here and sent me on a mission– Which is so cool! But yeah, he told me to come and save you. And that is what I am doing." he jumped up and down like an excited child.
You eyed the space around you, "Wait. M-my powers. I can't control them. I-I mean, I'm trying, b-but it's still—"
"—We can focus on that later! Right now, the richest and sickest guy on the planet is requesting you. C'mon." he grabbed your hand and, as scripted, you both locked eyes immediately.
You tried your best to look like you were falling in love. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you found that it wasn't that difficult. He stared back into yours. His hand still wrapped around your fingers. Your free hand travelled to his face, as if you were about to pull his mask up. Resting your palm on his jawline. His other hand that wasn't grasping yours, rested on your hip. A light pressure that nearly sent you into a haze. You both began to lean in and it no longer felt like acting until you squeezed your eyes shut, shook your head and pushed him away rather aggressively.
You put a hand on the wall, drawing heavy breaths in and out, "W-what are you doing to me?" you looked at him through heavy eyelids.
Tom was in a similar position, back against the wall, hand over his chest, "Mister Stark said that m-might h-happen." his head was thrown back against the wall, showing off the expanse of his neck as he swallowed. "Something- Something about our senses causes a strong- How do I say this? I-Intimate attraction between us."
Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing, "A-an attraction? An intimate attraction? To you? Ew."
He pushed himself off the wall, "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, Moon." he walked away from you, "We really need to get going. You- Oh! I've been wondering this: Where's your webbing?" he looked around as if he was searching for it.
You stuck your hand out and pretended to shoot a string of silk out of your finger and onto the wall. Tom followed your movements with a starstruck expression.
"That's sick! I have to make mine." he frowned, "We got bit by the same fricking spider and yours is in your hands? Let me see!" he came closer and attempted to grab your hand again before you quickly put it behind your back.
"Don't touch me." you spoke slowly, "I-if this attraction is caused by physical touch. Please, do not touch me."
He plastered on a playful smirk, "Oh, it's more than physical, Moon."
You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the wall, "Dream on, Parker. Are we going to this Mister Stank or whatever?" you waved your hand with a limp wrist.
Tom gasped, "He's Iron Man! It's Mister Stark! Stark! Not stank! And you need a suit. Mister Stark has one ready for you at the compound, but you need something to wear on the way there." he looked around for one.
As if it had just dawned on your character that you were finally leaving the bunker, your attitude changed. A smile gracing your lips.
"I think I can do a little something."
You gestured your hands around yourself, pretending to create a suit from your silk. Tom watched with amazement, "Hey, how are you doing that?" he bent down and examined your body from head to toe.
"I had a lot of free time on my hands. Costume on-the-go. You like?" you smirked as you continued your movements.
Tom nodded his head as he came back up to stand beside you, "I could've saved so much time and money by doing that."
You finally completed your gesturing with a grin, "Ta-da! A bit sticky, but I think it'll do." you pretended to stretch around in the costume.
"Okay, let's go, Moon—"
"—Nope. Nuh-uh. When I'm webbed up like this, call me Silk." you smiled triumphantly.
And with that, the scene came to an end. The producers and casting directors all stood and clapped for you and Tom. You smiled widely at how successful it had gone. Before you could even react, Tom pulled you into a hug. Arms wrapped around your waist. Without a second thought, you wrapped yours around his neck with a laugh.
"You were amazing!" Tom praised you with a wide grin.
You couldn't help but to smile, "Thank you! It helps when you have an awesome scene partner."
His cheeks turned a shade of scarlet at your compliment before Anthony Russo spoke, "That was amazing! Thank you, Y/N."
You shook your head, "Thank you for having me."
Joe came and shook your hand, "Expect a call on Monday. Keep your ringer on." he smiled.
"And that wraps up the chemistry tests! Great job, everyone!" Anthony announced as you handed the script back to them and threw your jacket on.
You swung your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door.
"Wait!" Tom called from behind you.
You stopped in your steps and turned around with a kind smile.
He held out his phone, "Since we're going to be working together, might as well get to know one another." he had a timid grin.
"Don't jinx it, Holland." you let a light chuckle fall from your lips.
He shook his head, "It's not jinxing, it's manifesting and you were by far the best Cindy Moon. You've already got the part." he insisted making you shake your head.
"We'll see about that." you punched in your number and before you could add your name, Tom took his phone back.
"Wait." he quickly typed away.
'silk'
You smiled at the contact name before offering your phone. He typed in his number and took it upon himself to put the name.
'spidey'
"I'll see you around, Y/L/N." he gave you a little salute making you laugh.
You nodded, "Definitely, Holland." you turned around and walked out of the door.
Both of you were so engrossed in your interaction that you didn't notice the producers and casting directors watching from afar. Proud smiles dawning their lips.
They found their Cindy Moon.
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animefreak1145 · 3 years
Text
For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)
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Chapter 4| I Am Thee and Thou Art Me
Chapter Summary:
The action's you do is for survival and no other reason.
You don't understand other's actions though.
Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU
Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma
Chapter Warnings: Mental/Emotional Anguish, Toxicity, Self-Loathing
A/N: Bottled beer is liquid hope and you love pictures.
Footnote: Translations at the bottom.
“Bell” Second Life 08:16 | February 26, 1981 West Berlin, Anita Wronski Cafe
“Looks like you’ve met death in the face, Bell. Rough night?” Lazar questioned, poking fun as they grabbed breakfast for everyone in line.
You rubbed your eye before pinching between your brows.
“Something like that,” you said tiredly as you  looked around the small cafe. Distantly taking note of Lazar’s statement with a dry smirk. “Didn’t sleep well.”
Small metal tables inside with metal chairs to match, both with interesting swirls for patterns making up the surfaces. There were more outside, the cafe a bit cramped in the first place even with just three tables again the wall. The smell of sweet German pastries and salty breakfast flooded your nose, making you lick your lips despite yourself not being hungry yet.
You were already up an hour beforehand, wondering to yourself how you and Adler could be in the car once more into the safehouse. Only to ‘volunteer’ when Lazar knocked on your door to help him grab food for everyone, apparently Adler already gone and left to the safehouse.
You internally frowned at that, you’re not sure why before you felt grateful. You would rather not talk about. . .whatever happened in his car. Which was nothing.
The flash of a clenched hand on the wheel as if holding back and a taut jaw came to the forefront of your mind.
Marionette’s should stick with their role.
It was nothing.
Lazar snorted, making you turn towards him as they both stepped up to the cashier. Lazar pointing towards the dessert window of what to get in a box as you spoke in German to the woman. Several more items of breakfast were ordered that will take some time to make, so they moved to sit to the only open table inside the quaint café.
“You drunk what—four cups of coffee yesterday, Bell? And looking at a bunch of nonsense for hours as if your brain is steel and your eyes can’t melt out of your head.” What a nice vision. Lazar took a sip of the German coffee he got for himself, eyes lighting up at the taste before looking back at you. “All that must’ve been stuck in your head and probably even in your dreams. Had any floating codes flying around your mind as you slept by any chance?”
That’s not quite right, but you’ll take the excuse handed to you as you shrugged. Lifting your own cup of coffee that you doused in three creams and two sugar’s, humming for a moment in agreement to Lazar at the strong and bold taste before taking another one.
“You can say that. I would have kept going and working until I got tired. You would call me a night owl so to say.”
“You seem pretty alright to me now,” Lazar observed as he leaned back in his chair.
“I have an impressive work ethic. Better than others I think. I’m used to going to sleep late and waking up early.” You can infer that your body is used to this schedule, harsh and strict work ethic that you must’ve gotten when you worked with Perseus. “Although, I admit I’m not very hungry right now. You chose a bad partner in this.”
“But you volunteered,” Lazar stared ever so seriously and another sip to his coffee. You could see he was fighting a smile.
You huffed through your nose, shaking your head.
“Yes. How could I have forgotten. Like I did for Kraus.” Lazar slightly winced at the reminder of how you got kidnapped, muttering an apology which you waved away. “It’s fine. I was the best to do that anyways.”
“You sure are pretty accepting with all this work. Just asking and taking files like nothing, ” Lazar rose a brow, you couldn’t tell if it was for being impressed or disbelief. You didn’t say anything to that, the both of you just sipping on their coffee and waiting for their meals to take to the car before heading back to work. You’ll walk past the center table easily and just sit in your chosen desk. Maybe get a lecture about professionalism which you will just absently nod at since you will make yourself feel numb if you have to, just to get away from the man in any way. Lazar paused at your far away look, your cup by your mouth yet you’re not drinking, instead of looking at a simple framed painting of Germany’s hills at the wall. ". . .As much as the boss man likes to act like it, we're not machines,” you blinked out of your reverie, your eyes flicking towards Lazar. “You're not either. Even though you understand numbers with little pattern and words that would have no connection normally—be able to put it together and have it make sense."
You blinked once more, albeit slower.
"I...I know I'm not a machine."
"Do you? Acting like you don't sleep and eat, besides those seeds of yours like you're a bird yesterday outside of the one meal I brought you. Do you sing too?" You released a surprised laugh at that, short as it was with lips still up. "That's better. Thought your lips stay flat like that. I swear, it seems both you and Adler are obsessed with Perseus. See why you're his protege now."
You were struck at Lazar’s words, focusing on him with a frown. The implications that the both of you were similar making you look down.
“Guess we're two peas in a pod.”
You mumbled the last bit, as if to yourself as you lowered your cup on the table.
"What? Oh. . .guess you could say that. But remember this Bell," He throws a pastry at you as you quickly catch it before it met your face(you would always have to be prepared for that before), blinking down at your hands before looking at the kind faced Lazar. "Lighten up. We'll get him so don't push yourself so much. And eat real food too! Seeds! As if that's food."
Your mind showed you moments from your previous life, Lazar always teasing and making you eat and try as much as different food as possible. Away from your decryption tasks as he would wave your plate under your nose as if to entice you.
“No point in being greedy,” The kind man would say, wry smile playing his lips with a tone to match, after letting you try food from his plate, even encouraging it. “Memories—memories with food should be savored and light and new dishes should be enjoyed.”
You thought of when you first found out the truth, still recovering from wounds of Cuba as you sat—away, away from that gurney—and guilt with Lazar—should’ve been quicker, perhaps you would’ve been kinder, kindness is a lie—and asking Park if Lazar knew. About you. About this. MK-Ultra. Everything.
You stared at the Israeli man for a moment before smiling, a mischievous thing. Genuine. Like the man in front of you.
"I am smaller than you, it's enough for me."
"Now you're just poking fun."
Lazar was always kind.
Oh, how he played his role perfectly for you.
At this point, you’ll take what you can get and stop wondering with him. You’ll go mad.
Foolish американский щеноk. The collar around your neck has choked all the trust for others in you.
Best, you think as Lazar easily teased you again, an unreadable look in your eyes as you take another sip of your drink. To just not feel at all.
The breakfast the both of you ordered came, Lazar grabbing the bag as movement behind the counter caught your eye. A worker bringing in a new dessert towards the other German sweets, yellow and round and looking spongy similar to a cake but with a crust like a pie. You walked back up to the counter, pointing and asking the worker in fluent German what was that. Her replying with a smile that it is their pineapple kasekuchen, the German’s take in a cheesecake.
You turned your gaze to the sweet, lost in thought before raising your hand with two fingers up to order, the worker nodding.
You grabbed the box and walked up to the curious Lazar by the door, his brow arched as if asking a silent question. As the both of you exited the bakery and walked towards the car, you still not saying anything and only periodically glancing down at the box with the kasekuchen, even tightening your grip a tad around it when the crowd around them got a little too close, Lazar decided to speak.
“You know,” he began, and you took note that he sounds amused. Almost knowing. You pretended to stay oblivious. “There was this mission I was on in Thailand with Adler a few years back.” At the mention of Thailand, your memory of yesterday in Adler’s car still fresh, you looked towards Lazar as they walked. “Something covert and recon with the usual stray chance of a suicide bomber. The standard for our great unpredictable job. Keeps us in our toes.” His tone was a mix of sarcasm and easygoing, as if suicide bombing in a country was like if he stated it’s going to rain again. Where is he going with this? “Anyways, when we weren’t doing that—we’d stop at this corner store near the safehouse we were in. Boss man would always buy his precious cigarettes, leaves the other stuff we need to actually sustain us to me. Except, he would get something else too. To eat and I always thought each time I saw that, that Adler is human after all.” He glanced down at you, one brow raised. “Do you happen to know what it is?”
You huffed, turning your head away. Them reaching the car and you going to the passenger side as Lazar stood by the driver’s side—still unopened and leaning his crossed arms on the top of the car.
“You sure like playing games today,” you dodged with quirked lips, shuffling the box in your hands to hold it in one as you moved your free one to open the door. “Volunteering me again and calling me a bird and now having me guess what a man like Adler would get besides his addiction. You want to talk about machines, look at him.”
How the puppet lies so so sweetly.
Lazar hummed, deciding to open the car and the both of you going in and settling as they placed the bags down by you to make sure none of it spills. After they pulled out from the space, Lazar spoke once more, offhandedly and an interesting turn of the lips.
“Pineapples sure are sweet and tart. Pretty good too.”
You don’t say anything.
Just made sure your hold on all the boxes of food for everyone didn’t tip over as Lazar would turn. If your grip with the kasekuchen was firmer than the others, you didn’t notice.
Feed the god and you might get a reward.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯  ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
You squinted behind your closed eyes, shifting in your uncomfortable sitting position in the foxhole with only dirt and soil to help cushion you within the trench like pit. The crickets were loud, deafening in the jungle with a periodic squawk or call from a bird deep within. You shifted, your M-16 moving down in your lap from the movement  despite your lucky green cloth gloves holding it as you blearily opened your eyes, blinking them against the darkness until they got used to it. The half moon helping somewhat in giving light as well as the fireflies flying around in the dance where only they heard the music.
They were still on their way to Hue City, night coming upon them quicker than expected. The jungles are harsh and thick, especially with the route they’re taking due to their stealth and recon mission, but the planned route was still underestimated. It did not help the planned foxhole they were going to got covered, completely useless and the time to make another one is time they don’t have. Luckily, they were able to find another, although this one was tighter. Two small foxholes that barely fit the five of you, hence having to sit basically in a ball against the wall of dirt behind you.
All of you were doing one hour intervals in keeping watch, the watcher usually standing up in the foxhole in order to watch their surroundings. And if an attacker did come, they could duck within the foxhole for cover.
You felt like you should’ve woken up for your  shift already.
Your eyes focused next to you, finding the spot where Larson was supposed to be standing empty. You hastily stood, pack heavy against your back as it tensed in protest at the sudden weight, your hands tight against the M-16 and about to call the other’s names at the missing soldier only to stop.
Your standing position giving you new access to see more besides the sky above you, surrounded by brush and green foliage of all types with high grass upon the ground. Larson sat, just a few inches away from the foxhole a little to your right, staring up in the starlit sky. He turned his head towards you at the sound, seeing you were awake before turning his head back, as if you weren’t there.
“Larson,” you whispered, not wanting to wake up the others in the foxhole next to yours. When Larson didn’t move so the two of you could switch, you reached out to tug on his pack on his back. “You can’t be out in the open like this. You don’t know if VC or NVA might come by in the area.”
“Let them,” Larson said brazenly but just as low, making you release his pack in surprise. “Besides, there’s a bunch of shit around here to cover us. Even this grass is kinda covering my face. Nothing will happen. Now, go back to sleep and leave me be.”
You stared, before sighing. Carefully looking around once, twice, before coming out of the foxhole as quietly as you could—using the open holes on the dirt walls to place your feet to get out. You sat by Larson, who ignored you and went back to staring up at the twinkling sky.
You took a moment to stare at it too. This far in the boonies, away from cities and cars and just filled with wildlife, it has a sort of bewitching air around it. Despite the loud chirp of the crickets, the call of the birds, and how one would sometimes have to smack any open skin for stubborn mosquitos—the trees, the grass, all the greenery that looked dark in the night outside of being lit by the fireflies and the stars and moon above. You were struck once more, just how beautiful this country was. With it’s natural serenity as the moonlight not covered by clouds touched lightly upon to aid somewhat with the darkness but not as much as a flashlight would do, still, the moon did its best even if it was just at it’s half tonight. The stars were there to support it and you wish you learned more about constellations than your books, you’re sure you could spot all of them and weave stories of your own instead of reading them.
“You know,” your attention shifted to Larson, who still gazed up as he spoke, lost in thought and appearing away from here as he spoke quietly. He does not wish to wake the others it seems. “I don’t know if you remember me telling you this, but I grew up on a farm. Small. Not very fancy and it was just me and my family—Ma, Pa, and my two brothers and sister. Out just taking care of our cattle and our horses. Middle of nowhere, we would have to drive about an hour to get to a good grocery store that isn’t just a corner store or gas station. I hated it more that the closest school was about the same length. . . But what could I do? Needed an education, at least some, and than spend the rest of my life worried about a farm. With all it’s cow and horse shit, waking up before the sun does and at the end of the day you smell like all the shit you cleaned up.” He ended, sounding tired and yet with the bitter words it had an iota of equal bitter amusement.
You maintained your silence, instead moving your gaze back and forth around them. Not looking at how Larson’s lips quirked begrudgingly, head tilted up towards the silent night.
“. . .there were a few good things though. When me and my brothers and sister were done with work, and the moon was out—we’d head out to where the cattle were. Laying down on the grass without a care, why bother? We were already dirty with sweat and dirt and shit. And we’d look up—and than—“ Larson reached an arm out, as if to reach the sky, only to clench his hand and put it down back by his lap before gripping his MP40 hard where you could spot how white his knuckles were. “. . .laying down, in the grass, in the middle of nowhere, with just a dark black sky over you. . .it felt like it could swallow us. Whole. Not caring about how we looked or smelled or how old we were. . .it made us feel small. Yet huge. If we pretended enough, we could act like we can really touch the moon. The stars. I guess it just showed all of us there was more, than this little farm. With it’s shit and it’s smell and being in the middle of nowhere. The black sky might just eat us to put us out of our childish misery. Maybe that’s also why we kept going back, not just cause of fucking beautiful it was, but maybe. . .”
Larson trailed off and you decided to speak up, softly. Not wishing to break this odd aura around them, because this was more than talking about how small a human’s life is.
“‘If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you,’” you quoted, Larson cocking his head slightly and glancing at your from the corner of his eyes. You released a small fleeting smile. “It’s a quote. By a German philosopher called Friedrich Nietzsche. A depressing guy but. . . I feel like his words fit. The abyss swallowing. . . perhaps it is more you become one with it. A fusion. Where you don’t know where you begin and the abyss ends.”
Larson turned his head away, grabbing a handful of some grass and pulling as he moved his eyes back up.
“Who knows? Maybe. . . shit,” Larson dryly chuckled, “maybe, I should’ve stuck with staring up at my family’s farm home—staring up this abyss right here but there instead. Than maybe. . .you know, I would say sappy shit in my letters to her?” You didn’t ask who ‘her’ was, you could fill in the blanks as you wisely kept silent. “All words about the moon and stars and we were staring at the same one so I wasn’t that far away cause we stared up at the same thing’s. That she had stars in her eyes and if I looked up, I could see her in them. That she pulled me to her like the moon does water and just—shit. Fuck. ”
Larson hissed, putting his head to his hands. His shoulders slightly shook, you could barely tell in the darkness but you imagine he is holding himself back.
“I loved her,” Larson said, voice all cracked and broken as his breath hitched. “I love her still. And she’s—she’s leaving. What will I have when I come back? Go back? I—there’s nothing. We were. . .I went to war for  her . Our  country .”
You kept your mouth shut. Letting him release his sorrow and emotionally charged words that made zero sense such as that. You learned, especially on the beach night, it is not wise to depend on another’s support when it comes to actions of war.
You didn’t even give Larson the full quote earlier either. You do not think he needed the full one, but you know yourself what Nietzsche was going for. You think Adler might like it actually.
Eventually, you managed to put Larson back into the foxhole as you took watch by him. Standing in the foxhole as you did your shift. A few minutes officially in however, you took note of noise in the foxhole next to you. You turned your head, noticing Adler’s head was out, helmet on and war paint slightly losing their color. You can see his stubble starting to really come in now. He had his shades on, even at this time, in this darkness—but you could tell he was staring at you. Something clicked as you lightly sighed.
“How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough.”
You nodded, turning your eyes around their surroundings with your M-16 in front of you and gripped at the ready just in case.
“You left something out,” Adler said after a while, voice low to not wake the others that it sounded husky to your ears. You glanced at him, brow raising questioningly as Adler’s lips lifted to a knowing smirk. “I don’t know much, but my high school education isn’t too laughable I think. I know that quote. You missed the whole beginning and just gave him the end.”
You blinked, before shrugging as you peered up at the sky for a moment.
“He didn’t need the beginning. Just the end.”
“Some might call that yellow journalism. Or lying.”
“Others might call it wise,” you retorted lightly. “He didn’t need to know it. It wouldn’t have helped. So why give it? Besides, we know it. We’re the only type of people who need it.”
Adler hummed, whether it was in agreement or in thought, you couldn’t tell. You took note of him shifting, hands a little fidgety around his M60 and you felt sympathy swell in you. He hasn’t been able to smoke since the start of this mission, having to be cautious with any type of smoke. You don’t know personally, but you know that the craving for cigarette’s were mind consuming if you did not have one to quell it. Perhaps this conversation was a welcome distraction.
You wonder if this night is just you going to be playing silent therapist.
“Do you think Larson should’ve heard it?”
Adler answered as he kept his dutiful watch around, him facing the area behind you as you focused in front.
“No. He just needed someone to listen. Poor bastard should ask for R&R after this. I’ll grant it to him, maybe he could go to Australia and just wind down there for a week.” He scratched at his face, the war paint surely feeling a little off since he first put it on. “Forget about all this. All of it. The States. The war. He needs it. Hell, we all do.”
Your lips formed a teasing smile.
“Even shadows and monsters need a smoke?”
Adler chuckled easily.
“Everyone needs a smoke as far as I’m concerned. Maybe less people will act like they’re one push away till they make a shitstorm the rest of us need to clean up. But sure, kid, ” he half shrugged, focusing on the sky above with all its celestial like bodies. “Larson might’ve been onto something though with what he was saying.”
“Which part?”
Adler chose silence as his answer, staring up for another moment or two before huffing and turning his attention back onto the ground.
The two of you stayed guarding for a few more moments. You didn’t bother asking Adler why he was up and you had this watch, just like how he didn’t seem to bother to order you to go to sleep. You felt like once more, there was an understanding between you two. Still though, it didn’t stop you from the question bubbling in your throat.
“Since you know the quote,” Adler hummed lightly, showing he was listening. “What do you think Nietzsche was referring to, that the reader itself hasn’t fought with other monsters yet or from experience because he is a monster to not have other’s fight him?”
Adler scoffed quietly, amused.
“Just cause I know the quote doesn’t mean I constantly wonder about it’s meaning, Bell.”
“Humor me.”
“I thought I told you earlier I’m not here to spoil you.” You threw him a sheepish grin, Adler sighing and shaking his head as his expression turned inquisitive with how he pressed his lips together for a moment. “It’s a warning. That’s how I always saw it. But it’s not one we need like you said earlier, kid.  We don’t need it.”
You didn’t ask anymore. Because as you thought more into it, he was right.
Nietzsche wrote a warning, to the innocent reader and the oblivious society that put emphasis on morals and truth that he did not agree with.
‘Battle not with monsters, lest you become a monster. And if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you.’
Monsters do not fret about what they already are. Just as they are not worried if the abyss ends with them or if it begins.
“Get ready, kid.” Adler said much later as they all slowly woke the others up to move, his eyes squinting behind his glasses as he stared past the trees, the bushes, and the greenery as the beginning of dawn started to rise. “It’s going to be a shit show in a few hours.”
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
“Bell”
Second Life
14:02 | February 26, 1981
CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”
You see yourself as one with patience.
When it comes to this sort of line of work, it is required. A sort of fortitude and composure that not all can be able to acquire but must be needed for this—for lives at stake based on whether you can put up an act or have the tact of an eagle capturing a snake, all sharp claws and silent feathers against the hissing strike. ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ.
“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time,” as said by one one of your favorites, Leo Tolstoy, from one of the best works in history: War and Peace.
You recall last time—stop clinging, you stupid dog—when you stood outside the safehouse in the cold with your head to the book, Adler stepping out and taking note of your book with a cocked brow. Stating his surprise at your book choice as you mumbled something or other as you read, that it is an integral book. You even stating the same quote back to him, a surprise to you when Adler didn’t know of it. Listening as you explained it with a flick of his lighter and calm inhales and exhales of his addiction, showing off where the quote was as he leaned in slightly. Your heart pounding as his warmth was felt without even touching, than a brush of his shoulder to your back as he drew closer. Than it was gone.
“All grim thoughts and wise words with you, eh Bell?” Amused. A fleeting turn of the lips that stayed longer and a gaze that lingered as he stared through you under those shades. “Make sure you take a breather when you raise your nose for air from your books. Can’t do this without you.”
He would tease, but didn’t stop you from taking your reading breaks outside for fresh air. And he’d always ask, curiosity in his expression when you’d show him a line each time. You thought it was special. Their own little thing where you would raise your book and he would lean to you and they would touch.
“Bell, open the door.”
It was just cruel kindness.
Patience, you are using it to your fullest. You can do what you must and see if your actions can work up to something—all your effort and hard work being seen as a good little tool.
Though, time—time is something you may not have. Unless you make sure you’re loyal.
You were quick to drop off the breakfast on the center table, ignoring Adler’s rose brow as you moved. The pineapple kasekuchen in their rightful place. You avoided and didn’t speak outside a quick “good morning” to everyone else and went to work, breakfast by you whenever you got truly hungry.
You didn’t think about why you bought the dessert. Outside the rationalization it shows your loyalty. Perhaps a peace offering to ignore what happened the night prior. You didn’t think much about that at all.
американский щеноk.
Until he called you over to his desk with a wave of his hand, your chest thundering with your eyes wide as you wondered if he’ll say anything. Take you aside in private to talk. About last night or the sweet, you’re not sure. Only for him to motion for you to sit, tapping his knuckle against the file on the desk. You took note the box of the kasekuchen wasn’t there anymore(must’ve already ate it or threw it away) as you blinked, slowly sitting in the seat across from him as he slid the file towards you as he asked your opinion on it.
You scanned, mind wandering and flying, before you glanced up at him. His favorite mahogany leather over him that is second skin, a lighter shade of blue for his collared shirt today under him and his mouth free of a cigarette as well as his hands. Those aviators still on his head, a part of him. Sort of like the beanie—ski—mask over your head as he looked down at another report in front of him. As if he didn’t call you over from your desk to his to help with a file when he could’ve just left it on your desk. As if you didn’t cross a line—you always cross the line, over, behind, or creating a completely new one to do what you must like he does whatever it takes but it was wrong, you are no saint, pitiful mutt—yesterday with your words and questions.
A hand reached towards the file in front of you, knuckle tapping twice, more force this time.
You focused back on the file, only to see Adler already took his hand back. Continuing to read as he patiently waited for your consensus on the file before you.
You were struck than how he’ll handle this, understanding dawning on you as your gaze focused and turned to the file below you and picking it up.
If he wishes to pretend as if it never occurred, it’s fine with you. It’s best either way for both of you. You have too many worries already, Adler included. Best to leave certain things out your mind about the man lest you’ll get clouded. You’re trying to survive. Not get caught up in and tangled in mind games.
You spotted in the corner of your eye Adler give a ghost of a nod, the tiniest tip of the head, imperceptible to others but you knew. He gave a similar one when you captured Volkov, walking up to you with a calm swagger and gloved hands around his weapon, as he moved his head in approval. Such a good girl to be happy with just a nod. Satisfied. He’s satisfied. He knows you understood. Understood him.
“You know me too well.”
“Guess we’re two peas in a pod.”
“I need Bell.”
You raised the file closer, over your mouth formed in a subconscious echo of a pleased smile. You didn’t even feel it. Nor did you feel electric blue eyes behind shades glance towards you before turning back to his work—the silent agreement to keep what happened last night to themselves written and signed without the two of you having to open your mouths.
Coward, you wanted to snarl. To who, you’re not sure. You just focused on what Adler gave you. You’ll need to have Adler let you live so you’ll need to not just be a perfect asset to the others but a person to him.
You have to do what you must.
“Damaged goods.”
You have to.
“You remembered.”
You flicked your eyes towards him, file momentarily forgotten. He didn’t look up from his own file, continuing to read it with the expression he always has when concentrated—a hint of pressed lips that reveals his dimples and brows lowered than usual where it would be difficult to see due to his shades. You would think that mania has truly taken a hold of you, with it’s dark tentacles filled with dark thoughts and mental anguish or rather slithering and multiplying vines where Lykourgos grew mad due to Dionysus’ vengeance except for you it is with choking collars and stifling leashes and cutting strings. He looked as if he didn’t speak at all. All the quiet focus of a war hardened CIA agent that didn’t have a ring on his finger but was married to his job with a badge to show all the same.
But you knew his voice. As if it was your own.
“We’ve known each other for years.”
“Fought together. Bled together. Been through Hell in Vietnam together.”
“We got a job to do.”
“ B e l l,  o p e n  t h e  d o o r . ”
The poor американская сука loves pain like a drug.
“I wasn’t sure what you would,” Adler spoke again, your eyes focusing on him once more. His head still was tilted down and a little to the side, shades facing the paper but you believed he glanced towards you. “The coma did a number on you with your memories. I know you’ve been saying it’s only been about Vietnam but you never specified about what. Or if you happened to remember anything else.” He didn’t state it like a question but he might as well have.
Of course he would ask. Why wouldn’t he?
Nonetheless, you knew what he was referring to in his earlier statement. He ate them. You picked up your file with a small huff.
“Hard to forget, Adler. Of course I would remember. You would hold those cans like a lifeline,” your lips lifted at the memories, of Adler trading with others if he must to get his precious golden ambrosia that would appease him similar to his cigarettes. You kept your lips up despite the quick recall the memories were fake—the trading of trash, the quiet understanding to not speak of it, of beautiful Vietnam foliage and unforgettable talks—just as you glanced at him and continued easily. “Glad you liked them. Wasn’t sure if you would. As for other memories. . . it’s still only been with Vietnam. I haven’t gotten anything else.” Adler hummed, cocking his head a tad before your lips formed more of a smile that you felt. “But at least I still know what I like or don’t. Can’t imagine a clean slate.”
“That’s normal,” Adler said, shades now facing you as you somewhat hid your face with the file. The only thing him being able to see fully was your eyes. “Learn how to calm down and that you can’t take all these shots like you’re a target in a shitty gun range. Might remember more.”
You found yourself snorting, rolling your eyes. Finding dark amusement at his words despite yourself. Perhaps you are growing insane.
“Based on what you told me in the hospital, you would’ve had some holes instead.” The way you said it, it sounds like you still believe it. Like it was real. Dance puppet, dance. You turned up your lips into a semblance of a smirk as you looked over the file towards him. You maintained it even though you think the both of your eyes connected despite the shades hiding. “You don’t have to worry, Adler. I got your back. Always. A few shots is nothing.”
It’s what you would’ve said before. It scares you how much you meant it previously. As if your life was forfeit if it came to having Adler live longer. Nothing else would matter as long as he lived. Nothing. As if the world would come to an end if he fell—the only one that could hold it and keep it straight.
Perhaps he is Atlas after all. . .
The loyal dog with the pretty collar will always protect the master.
Cursed due to his cruelty.
What are you, Russell Adler?
Adler stared at you for a moment, as if assessing your words. Scrutinizing them. He than reached into his jacket, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Once he did the first drag and released his puff, away from you as you observed the smoke curl around them, he looked back down to the papers on the desk.
“How lucky am I that I got you around than, kid,” he replied, all low and earnest as he took another drag. “Just don’t go dying on me. Can’t have Sims talk to his shrink about something else. He’d be heart broken.”
Adler said that sentence a little louder, so it was no surprise that Sims by the desk put down his magazine and called out.
“I resent that!”
Adler’s lips twitched in response, but kept his gaze down as your heart thundered.
You thought of an explosion to the chest, your heart open and bare for more reasons than you planned. Of soft words to your ear that sounded like regret and something else as you coughed. Of a gentle touch that held you up, hands wandering from your waist to your stomach—stopping just short of a bleeding chest as if they wanted to stop the red—redredredredred—from flowing out but hesitated. An encircling of arms that released heat as you grew cold—you don’t like the cold much anymore—while an expression was carefully guarded with eyes hiding behind a shaded curtain.
You felt your throat tighten. The need for answers to unanswered questions reaching a head.
“Just Sims?” you asked softly, a little breathless and a little confused at said breathlessness.
He glanced up, aviators slightly down and you could barely see his eyes as he exhaled a puff, eyeing you. You staring as his brow lifted for a moment before it settled, an interesting look in your eyes that one might call forlorn. And something else that is dangerous and not meant for monsters who are better alone.
“Maybe another life, kid.”
Mind thine eyes dog, for they show you yearn the impossible.
“You know the answer, Bell. Everyone would be,” Adler leaned slightly back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers in his customary hold between his ring and middle finger. “You’re part of the team. What kind of question is that?”
“You’re still one of us.”
He knows what he’s doing. Just as he knows what you mean.
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down with squinting eyes at the file. Your hand making it a little wrinkle and you don’t know what you expected. What you’re expecting. He hurts. He pretends. Why would he even answer truthfully when he can dodge and feel less guilt about a hole in you caused by his hand?
He’s—
You felt a nudge against your knee, you looking up in shock with a quick inhale at the unexpected touch. It staying there—his knee, he’s touching you—as you watched Russell tilt his head at you, brow up and lips quirked with a cigarette around it and looking wry and relaxed—what is this, why, what could this be for, why is he doing acts that are pointless yet mean everything when he could just be distant, you are getting worked up over just knees touching, you touch starved little thing—as he motioned his head an iota to the left. Your eyes following the movement to see Park where she was, nearby with her desk and a headphone to one ear but the other still able to listen in despite how naturally quiet you and Adler are with your soft voice and Adler’s low tone.
Park? What does she have to do with anything? And why would Adler of all people care?
You frowned, only for your lips to flatten in realization of her words to you about Adler. To stay away. You now wonder if she did a similar warning to him.
“Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”
You wonder if the pissing match that was imperceptible and the slight tension was more than just two agencies trying to come to an accord.
But why would Park warn Adler?
You glanced back at Adler, who gave a half shrug as if to answer your silent question. It only raised more. You moved your knee back closer to your form and Adler didn’t react as you did so. The both of you turning back to the files that Adler requested your assistance.
Not thinking in the back of your mind of fleeting touches, lingering looks, or a voice to your pounding ear that tinged with remorse even though you couldn’t see his face.
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You and Park just recently finished going through the report you and Woods got from Ukraine. Sims and Lazar were in the back rooms where the gun range was while Park was in the Red Room. Last you checked, Adler was still in his office with a call while Mason and Woods were by the weight lifting equipment and taking turns to work off some steam due to what was discovered. You were putting the findings up on the evidence board with tacks, careful to not stab yourself. You wouldn’t be as concerned if you were wearing your gloves which you put away earlier by your bunk bed, but than again, you’re quite careful with your gloves. Not only because of the quality, but who got the leather gloves for you when you were just recently discharged out of the hospital back in the States.
You smiled, putting the last tack on the board only to have a sudden weight around your shoulders. You widened your eyes, briefly alarmed only to turn your head to see it was a smirking Woods.
“Done? Good! I’ve been holding off till now but it’s time to fucking see what you’re  really  made of Bell.”
You blinked, confused and still reeling at the fact you didn’t sense his approach at all. Your mind will zone out over the littlest of things lately. It concerns you. But it hasn’t been a problem so far out in missions, so you think it’s alright.
“And how exactly I’m going to do that? Thought I showed you enough back in Ukraine.”
At that, Woods laughed as he basically tugged you to where Mason was, who was shaking his head at his friend and shooting you an apologetic look as you just smiled that you were okay with it. Their van door open in the back as well as a table and chairs in front. You took note of the packs of beer and you see what Woods meant as he sat by Mason in the van on the floor, you sitting down and observing as Woods took a hefty gulp of a beer.
“I think I know now. But,” you glanced to where Adler’s office was, “is this wise? Isn’t Hudson coming over here soon?”
Woods slammed his beer down, causing some of it to come out as Mason sighed at the wastefulness.
“Man,  fuck  Hudson!” Woods wiped his chin harshly, irritation coloring his features. “I want to forget about that nutsack for the rest of the day. When he comes, he better not say shit or I’ll punch him again. Maybe with that shit will stop coming out his mouth.”
Mason chuckled, having his own beer in his hand as his eyes wandered to his longtime friend, shifting as he got comfortable in his seat.
“How’s the hand?”
Woods scoffed.
“Pfft. Nothing fancy,” Woods looked at said hand, clenching it as he moved to crack his knuckles as he grinned wildly. “Ready enough, like I said, if Hudson says something smart.” He punched his fist against his hand, muscles flexing noticeable despite his jacket as you couldn’t help but laugh along with Mason.
“I still can’t believe you punched him yesterday,” you spoke up, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine anyone punching the intimidating harsh man that is James Hudson. Soon after your discharge, you had to meet with him back in Langley for the mission before all this Perseus business—although you suppose supporting the Polish union Solidarity in fighting back communists have everything to do with Perseus. You don’t understand why the man seems to dislike you so much, especially if the two of you worked briefly before which you sadly can’t remember. He must always be like that with others, Woods doesn’t seem to like or appreciate Hudson’s icy countenance either way. You don’t quite appreciate the man’s secrecy about the nukes, so you see why. “If I even breathe the air wrong around him, I think I will be dead come morning. I don’t think I’m exaggerating.”
“You?” Woods asked, amused incredulity in his tone as he faced you. “The one who basically took out three Heavy’s by your lonesome? Scared of that ball face? You’re shitting me!”
Mason rose his brows as he turned towards you.
“You didn’t say that in the report. You holding out on us, Bell?”
“Right?! Now open a bottle and tell Mason here everything that happened.”
You rose a brow, amusement shining in your eyes, your hand moving to the pack of beer before stopping. The memory of the arcade room making you smile knowingly.
“Everything?”
Woods made a face, cheeks looking an interesting color that Mason caught as he nudged his friend with his elbow.
“What’s she talking about Woods?”
“Nothing! Jesus Christ Bell, didn’t know you could be a little shit like Adler can.”
The words bounced off you easily, already used to the man’s vulgar personality from the mission and even before the mission to go over details, as you shrugged, smirking as Mason kept pushing Woods on what happened as Woods would grumble or drink his beer to avoid answering. At Adler’s name however, you looked back at the office, slightly biting the inside of your lip.
Your breaks thus far outside of eating has just been reading your books or a quick game in the back room. Never for a drink like Lazar would do with Sims and Park at times. Adler, at least what you know of, hasn’t drunk and just has stuck with his cigarettes. You don’t even remember the last time  you  drank. All you know is that you like it.
But. . . you’re not sure if Adler would approve. You’re always focused on your work and great at it, he depends on you to maintain your focus to catch Perseus.
You subconsciously put your hand in your jacket, feeling the polaroid as you thought.
Woods noticed your apprehension and called out to you, you turning your head back.
“Whatcha fuckin’ worried about? You’ve been working all day from those codes and whatever the shit you put on the board. I don’t think Adler would want you to be worked dry where you don’t even think straight.”
“Only booze can do that,” Mason added helpfully.
Woods nodded, looking too serious it was almost comical since they were just trying to persuade you to drink.
“What he said.”
You took a moment before you shrugged, grabbing a beer and opening it as you stated that you guess you could drink with legends. Woods huffing at you, soon calling you cocky in realization as to why you made fighting Heavy’s not a big deal and not impressed with him. Mason seeming to find it funny as the three of you drank and talked about the mission more freely and colorful words with Woods. You did slightly flush when Woods told Mason you were a nerd for playing a quick game while there were Russians preparing for their training course, Mason snorting as you hushed them when Park grew near them. Not wishing for her to find out.
Quickly hiding it by inviting her to join just as Lazar and Sims came back, the two men seeming to easily join in as Park contemplated as she stared at the beer. With a sigh though, she sat by Lazar as she took one.
“Next time, I’m buying the alcohol here. You bought rubbish, Woods.”
“‘Rubbish?’ And beer is beer, nothing wrong with good ol cheap beer sometimes,” Woods defended. “Adds to the flavor.”
Lazar smiled, raising his bottle.
“Cheers to that.” Lazar and Woods tapped their bottles in the middle when they reached over, an easy aura settling between the group.
Sims got a bottle, assessing the name as well as the pack as he did a dog whistle.
“Germans know how to do one thing right, and that’s beer. You’ll be fine Park. It could be worse,” Sims took a drink, humming as he did so while Park frowned at her bottle when she took a few sips.
“Worse?”
“It could’ve been canned,” Mason answered, speaking from experience that made you raise a brow as you took a drink, settling further into your seat. “Canned cheap beer you can basically taste the metal. There was one time back in the States where I practically shitted myself due to this cheap beer I got at this random gas station in the middle of nowhere. Ruined my night.”
“And your pants it seems,” Lazar commented, mirth clear in his tone before he released a laugh along with Sims guffaw at the Israeli’s words. Park shaking her head but anyone can see her smile on her lips as Woods stated that’s what happens when you’re in “bumfuck nowhere” and probably got experimented with weird moonshine.
You snorted in surprise, covering your mouth as your imagination pictured the soldier rushing to the bathroom lest an accident happens. Mason? He seems so serious all the time, which you can understand why. You’ve read up what you could on everyone here, the description’s were small but you could fill in the lines. He’s lucky that he has such a good friend like Woods.
It soon became a trading of stories between everyone about drunk nights and how they reached that point, Lazar running with a bowl of chili and Woods determined to make condom water balloons and Sims was just finishing his own passed out in random deck chairs story when the door of the office opened.
You immediately turned towards where Adler now stood, staring at all of you as he closed the door and currently free of a cigarette. Your anxiety only grew when Adler turned his head towards you, as if he was asking you personally on the situation as you could only throw him an apologetic yet impish smile. Adler’s brow rose.
“Adler!” Woods called, raising a hand and motioning it for the man to come over. Adler approaching the group as you could only stare and tried to get a read on him. Alas, it was hard to discern his mind even if you could spot him glancing at everyone and the table with bottles. “Join us while there’s still beer left! Planning to drink all of this before Hudson comes. He can’t say anything if there’s no evidence.”
Adler hummed, stopping behind you and Sims as he appeared in thought. A trickle of hope coming up your chest at Woods offer.
“All of you are in luck,” Adler eventually answered, the subtle amused tone not lost on you as you intently focused on it. “Hudson isn’t coming till early in the morning tomorrow. Got caught up with something with Black. Can’t imagine how he would react if he saw all this.”
“Fuck ‘im,” Woods spat, reaching for a bottle and throwing Adler one. Adler catching it with his hand, shaded eyes turning towards the bottle to read the label. “We’re not here to please his every whim and cater to him like we’re his butlers. I say it’s a perfect time to wind down. We were just trading stories of getting shit faced.”
“All of you were,” Park corrected easily, “I don’t plan on sharing any such event.”
“Never say never, Park,” Lazar said, a grin playing on his lips as he winked at the British woman. “I’m sure a lady like you has quite a collection of stories.”
“A lady never says her secrets.”
You were still staring up at Adler as Sims playfully groaned at Lazar’s flirt tactics that Park didn’t seem to mind, Adler tilted his head down and met your eyes. Seeming to assess before turning his gaze towards the evidence board, which now had additional papers than previously since he entered the office, assessing. He than turned back towards you, you impatiently waiting as you shifted in your seat to see if he would let all of you continue, his eyes seeming to follow when your hand went to your jacket pocket.
Adler released a huff of soft exasperation, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.
“Don’t see the problem. We can all use a break from all of this.”
You practically beamed as Woods whooped, you moving a seat over where you were now next to Woods. Adler taking your seat as he sat by Sims now, opening his bottle as he asked whose story they were on. Sims continuing it and finishing before Lazar had another one. You listening with a smile or laughter, feeling the most at ease since this whole mission started you think. You believe that Adler must feel the same way, appearing relaxed as he sat and leaned back against the chair, beer forgotten and customary cigarette on his lips as he listened.
It made you want to take a picture of this moment. You standing up and announcing to the others you’ll do just that, Woods raising a brow at you.
“You and pictures. You a photographer or something? I hope you’ll at least show me what pics you took of me instead of those Red’s building.”
Your cheeks felt heated as you turned towards Woods, standing over him with fists clenched by your side as you called his name, askance. Making the man laugh at your expression, your irritation leaving you due to it but you gave him a warning look and call of his name which he caught. Not wishing for you to say the story, as Adler watched nonchalantly.
“Pictures? Got distracted again, Bell?” He asked, almost sounding like a tease only for the others to join in that you really loved that camera. You pursing your lips and appearing like you were pouting, as you turned away and got the camera from the Red Room quickly. Taking the picture of everyone only for Woods to motion his hand for it to your bewilderment.
“What? Don’t you want one with you in it too?” Woods asked, grabbing the camera from your hands as he grinned up at you. Adler and Park glancing at each other behind you, Adler flapping his cigarette hand uncaringly in answer. Mason raising a brow at the exchange but staying silent as his eyes moved back towards his loud friend.
You didn’t think of that but you stated you wanted one with everyone than, Park raising her hand for the camera to do the setting for it to be timed and placing it on top of Sims car he was working on earlier. All of you turning your chairs slightly, getting close with beers in hand and you trying to maintain a perfect smile even with Adler’s knee touching yours. The camera flashed, you feeling something by your head only for you to lightly punch Woods shoulder once you saw he must’ve gave you bunny ears in the photo. Him laughing away as you fought your own smile, his rugged charm rubbing off on you as Adler inhaled quietly as he watched the exchange.
The stories than eventually moved to mission stories, and than, unsurprisingly—to Vietnam. At this point, Park and Lazar retired for the night—Sims eventually doing the same when he noticed it turned to Vietnam. Which left you, Mason, Woods, and Adler—Adler just finishing up the story about what happened in Hue City, leaving a few details out you noted but loyally and wisely kept silent, as Mason took it in with a slight nod of his head.
“So that’s what happened on your side. Shit. . . that whole place was a shit show since the beginning. Lucky I only had to do a quick in and out by just getting a dossier.”
Woods snorted, nursing his fifth beer.
“That whole war was a shit show. Only good thing that came out of it is telling stories about it years later in a depressed warehouse. While a whole other type of war is happening.”
At the mention of the reminder of them losing that war, you spoke up.
“Not the only thing,” you couldn’t help but say, lost in thought as you looked at the ground.
Adler turned his head towards you as Woods and Mason did the same, curious.
“And what’s that, kid?”
You kept your gaze down for a moment more before flicking your eyes to the side towards Adler.
“We’re all still here, aren’t we?”
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Ȳ̶͇̝͐ó̶̘̈ṵ̴̡͑͒ ̴̯̗̅ŵ̴̭͘â̸̭̼̤n̵̼͚̘͑t̶̠̮̯́̏ ̶̭̝̱̄́̅ţ̶̠̑̈̚ǫ̶̳̉́ ̴̘͖͊͊͘ͅ ̵̡͋́ṣ̶̞̆̚ ̴͚̲̕ț̸̓ộ̴̍̐p̴̣͓̾́ ̴̫̗̆͜ḫ̴̛̦͓́́ẽ̴̛̻̋ṛ̵̲̞͈̅͠ę̷̼̯͔̍̌͌?̶̫̩̆͆
̷̼̈́
̵̣̽̉͛
̶̝͋͂B̷̝̾̾u̸͚͊̕ţ̷̛̭͖̈́̾ ̶̱͑̔i̷̩͇̤̐ṯ̴̪̓̓ ̷̜͊d̸̆͜į̶̩͔̉̏d̵͔̓͝n̴̨͇͒’̵̰͑́͂ţ̸̯̯͋ ̷̧͖̣̿̒e̴̥͋͝n̴̘̱̿̕d̸̛̤̹̔ ̵̡̡̩̈̐h̷̫͔͂͜ë̴̺̜́͑͊ȑ̶̺͉͠ĕ̴̥̉.̴͕̭͌̕͠
̸̠̹̿̊̿
̸̠͊̅
̸͙͓̬̂͒͝Ë̶̼̙̭́͘̕ ̶̳͆v̵̱͙̿̋ ̴͔̇̋ę̷͚̫͆̃̈n̵̥̣͈̏̅ ̷͇̮͒͊ ̴̛̺ ̶̡͆t̶̢̘͒ḧ̷̺̉ě̸͓̼̂ͅ ̶̬̲̫̈b̶̟̪̒̒ę̵͊͝s̶̟̱̐ţ̴͙̳̆̚ ̶͔̈́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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sweetestlamb · 3 years
Text
Let's Play A Love Game
Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.
Summary: it's just pretend, right?
She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.
"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"
False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.
She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.
"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.
"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.
"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.
"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."
It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.
"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.
"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.
"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."
He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.
"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.
She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.
"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.
"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.
"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.
"A fashion show?"
"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."
She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.
"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.
He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."
Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)
"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.
"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.
Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.
"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.
"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"
She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.
"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.
Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.
A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."
She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.
"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."
Of course he ignores her.
"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."
What the fuck.
This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.
"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."
"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves. 
Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.
"What is going on?"
They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.
The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.
Why isn't Hye Jin answering?
Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉
Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!
Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!
That she had forgotten about.
"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.
"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.
"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.
"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"
She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.
"Why did you lie?"
That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.
"I know I should have told the truth."
"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."
Huh.
Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.
"What are you talking about?"
Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.
"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."
She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.
"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"
"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."
That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.
"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."
There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.
So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.
"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".
With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.
Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.
Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.
She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.
Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.
"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."
They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.
Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.
Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.
There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.
He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.
"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.
She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."
Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.
They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.
"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.
Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.
"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."
With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.
"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.
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"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.
"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.
"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."
His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.
He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.
Here it goes.
"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."
Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.
"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."
Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.
"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"
He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."
Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.
Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.
Then reality crashes down on her.
He knows about her lying.
He had called her bluff.
But he didn't out her.
"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.
But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.
"You look great."
She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?
It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.
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He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.
"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"
"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.
"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."
She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?
"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.
"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."
This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."
Why?
She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."
He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.
"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.
He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.
She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.
Not that. Down brain.
"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."
Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.
His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.
"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."
Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."
As if she ever would.
Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.
Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.
"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.
"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."
She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.
"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.
But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.
"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."
"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.
"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.
"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."
She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.
When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."
She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.
"Are you surprised?"
He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.
"No. It makes sense."
She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.
"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.
"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.
Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.
"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.
"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.
"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."
Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.
As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.
He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.
Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?
"I'm such an idiot."
Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?
The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.
Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.
It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.
"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.
"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"
It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?
It was the desire that led to him being here.
He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.
It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.
They weren't right for each other.
"Do you like me?"
That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.
"I don't know why you're asking me that."
"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."
He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?
Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.
"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.
"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.
And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.
He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.
Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.
"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.
Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.
Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.
"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.
"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."
She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.
"What about you?"
She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.
"I.... don't know."
He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.
He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."
Now that's a confession.
Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.
"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.
Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.
It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.
"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."
Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.
"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.
"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.
He looks at her helplessly.
"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."
She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.
A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.
"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"
She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.
"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"
It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.
"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.
"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.
They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.
Before he knows it night has fallen.
And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.
She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.
"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.
"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.
"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.
She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.
It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.
"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.
"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.
Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.
Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.
"More, more, please!"
As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.
He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.
"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.
"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "
He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.
She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.
"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.
Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.
"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."
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aremie · 3 years
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𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄 ❞ ( EREN JAEGER X FEM. READER )
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ;; Eren is dead, your friends are dead, Annie and Armin are probably starting a new life together, Levi and Mikasa are hiding together somewhere, and you are left alone. Left alone in misery, you try to bring Eren and your friends back to life by abusing the extent of your abilities.
𝗮 / 𝗻 ;; this is based on wandavision, some aot manga spoilers, ending is different, eren is crystalized, reader is twenty one here.
𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿 ;; reader has abilities like wanda maximoff, you have powers like chaos magic, manga spoilers, don't read if you don't want to be spoiled. Different ending from the manga, Eren is crystalized in this one, canon divergence. CHAPTER TWO here.
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IT WAS BLOODSHED everywhere and you can't seem to escape that. Its been two years since the departure of you and your friends. Jean and Connie turned into a mindless titan, Hanji was dead, Mikasa and Levi were MIA, Armin was nowhere to be seen, Annie's whereabouts were unknown and you were left alone.
You missed everyone but mostly Eren. You always dwelled into the past and thought what would have happened if you had just answered his question differently.
"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" Eren had asked you while you struggled getting up the rooftop. The two of you had snuck out of your rooms to look at the sky but the time was random.
You, Eren, Mikasa and the others had just returned from a mission that involved titans. It was hard to say the least. You almost died due to a titan grabbing your right leg and almost crushing it but luckily, Eren was right there and saved you from your near death experience.
"Mhm." You hummed while Eren took his time to put his head onto your lap gently. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you two both cherished the moment.
It wasn't until you felt Eren sit back up that you felt something off about him. "N/N?" He asked in a childlike manner. "Hmm?" You looked at Eren's emerald eyes, noticing the sadness in his eyes. "What's wrong, 'Ren?" you asked softly.
The distressed brunette glanced at you and then asked, "Do you think i'm a monster?" And after saying that, you responded quickly. "No! Why would you think that?" You scolded him in a way a mother would scold their child.
You reminded him of his mother Carla in that very moment. From the way your tone was to how your hair and clothing apparel was like. You had your hair tied loosely, hanging on your right shoulder, a simple knee-length cream-colored dress and black boots to finish the look of.
He wonders what you both are gonna do once the war between the titans and the marleyans are gone. He sees himself working as a doctor like his father and you would be the mother of his children. But unlike his father, he'd do everything to protect you and his children. The only thing keeping him from doing this was the ymir curse.
"Use your power on me." Eren bluntly said, not knowing how crazy he sounded until he saw the confused and outraged look on your face. "Eren, What the fuck—?!" You shrieked, alerting half the people that were asleep.
"No, you completely got it wrong. I didn't mean it like that." Eren immediately defend himself, not wanting to get scolded. "Then what do you mean?" you asked, getting more confused. He then grabbed and held your hand.
"Tell me what you feel." He said as you used your ability. You felt nothing but pain, sadness, confusion and anger. It scared you. It didn't feel anything like your lover.
"So?" Eren asked but it didn't feel like a question. Its as if he was pleading for you to answer while you shook your head. "I just. . ." You didn't know what to tell him. What were you gonna say? "I just. . . I just feel you." You answered, noticing the pain in his eyes. Was it the right answer? You asked yourself.
"Oh. Alright then." Eren responded with pain laced with his voice. You wanted to ask him if he was alright but you already knew what the answer would be so you just stood there silently, waiting for the sun to rise.
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YOU FELT NOTHING but regret. If you had just answered his question differently then he maybe have stayed with you or maybe run away together and then no rumbling. You always wondered what the outcome would be if you answered differently. Multiple scenarios coming in your mind but almost everything that had came into your mind was too selfish.
You knew that what he was doing was right in a way. He was saving Eldia but what did it cost? It costed him everything. In another life, he probably would have lived with you peacefully until the end of his time.
If you were in his shoes, you probably would have chosen the selfish route in which Marley evades and kills all eldians but at least you had your happy ending, right? You knew that your thoughts were incredibly selfish which was why you tried acting like a selfish person. You tried to be a better person for Eren.
Which was why when you went to find Eren ina crystal, you decided to let it go even if it was hard. You tried living your life the way Eren would have wanted you to.
But all the efforts you had made was destroyed once a certain envelope was placed on your porch. You of course, the curious person you were opened the envelope that involved a map in it.
You then looked at the map and noticed a red mark placed onto a certain place. You wondered the importance of the marked place. Filled with hope that Eren might have escaped, you decided to go to the marked place.
Your hope and happiness was crushed when you saw a demolished cabin. It would have looked decent had it not been demolished. You saw a blueprint of the house which left you wondering why it was demolished when it looked absolutely breathtaking.
Looking at the final piece that was in the envelope, you noticed a letter that seemed to be written two or three years ago? You hesitantly opened the letter and was shocked to find the continents in it.
To my beloved,
To my very dear [Y/N], It has come to my senses that the war is nearing its end and yet, we have no plans for our future. I found this cabin while you were still in bed, healing after a titan almost crushed your leg. I was wondering what our lives are gonna be once this all ends.
Looking at this cabin, i suddenly realized. I want to spend my whole life with you. To marry you, and to have children with you. I swore to myself that i will protect you until the end of my time.
But i knew that it would be quite impossible with the things that has befallen us both. I always try to look on the bright side even if i know that my wishes and yours would be too selfish for the world. I want my last few years to be spent with you. I want to be selfish for once and be with you. But i know i can't.
You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. From the way you supported me and believed in me, to the way you defended me when the world was against me. When i first met you, i knew you were the one for me. As cheesy as it did sound, it felt like love at first sight.
So as a remembrance once i'm gone, this cabin will be your home. For you to grow old with.
Adieu, my love. May you live your life happily.
Ever yours, E.Y. — 853.
It was moronic, quite funny actually. All your efforts of living a life without Eren had been crushed and all it took was a stupid letter that was written three years ago.
You, being overcome by severe anguish, had a breakdown, causing you to unleash your abilities to an extent for the first time, forming a new reality around you, transforming the entire village into a more colorful and happy place filled with sitcom vibes.
You weren't thinking straight when you did that. Hell, you didn't even know you could do that. All these years, Levi and the corps had been trying to hide out these abilities but their efforts were also ruined. Just like your Efforts of trying to build a new life were.
It took you a few minutes to calculate what had just happened.
As you stood up, still not being over the letter, you noticed the Cabin rebuilt as you were inside it. You were confused and scared about what just happened. Did you do this? How? What are you going to do now? All these questions popped onto your mind but all of these were interrupted once you heard a familiar voice outside.
All of your hopes were back as you immediately headed outside and saw the man you longed for. "[N/N], you're finally here!" Eren happily said while you looked at him in denial. You must be seeing things. You told yourself.
"[Y/N]? Are you alright?" Eren asked while tears were filling your eyes. You then nodded as you snapped your fingers as your hair color and clothing changed from disheveled and random to a more curly and elegant hairstyle and a more housewife-ly dress.
Upon casting the spell you had unknowingly made, you engulfed yourself in your new reality, where you and Eren would go on to live happily together, daring to harm anyone who would try to ruin your perfect life.
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Le parfum de l'amour
This is the @maribat-secret-santa-2020 piece for @saltandfluff I am so sorry for being late!
Anyway, I will be using the quantic kids, but you don't necessary have to know them to understand this fic.
The only have to know that "Melodie" is Allegra's nickname.
Ao3
It was always a bad idea to try to mess with fate. Everyone knew this. Allegra knew this, but she didn't care. Not when it was taking a toll on her sanity.
There were only so many times a person could see two literal soulmates walk past each other before they decided to take matters into their own hands.
So that's what she did.
Or well, was going to do once she could convince her friends to help her out.
"I don't know, Mel." Allan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "These things take time you know? You cannot rush it." He glanced at the corkboard that was behind Allegra and winced, it was going to be impossible to talk her out of the crazy plan.
On the corkboard, there were two pictures. One was a selfie of Marinette Dupain-cheng. A twenty-year-old who was a regular at the café where Allegra and Claude worked at. After chatting with her in the mornings, Allegra decided to adopt the girl, and she introduced her to the rest of the group. She quickly became friends with Allan and surprisingly enough, with Felix as well.
The second picture was a rather blurry photo that was clearly taken from afar. You could sort of make out the image of Timothy Drake. The sleep-deprived twenty-one-year-old who had started going to the café for about a month. All the employees loved him because he never failed to amuse everyone with his half-asleep antics.
The one thing that both pictures had in common was a coffee cup.
On Marinette's collarbone, there was a small tattoo-like mark that looked like a coffee cup. The same one that was on Tim's wrist. Soul marks . Granted, they looked a bit plain compared to most people's soul marks, but in Allegra's eyes, they were the excuse she needed to get them together.
Allegra had shipped her two favorite customers long before she noticed their soul marks. But now that she knew they were soulmates . Well, she was not going to rest until they finally met.
"I'm not trying to rush things!" Allegra insisted. "I just want to push them in the right direction."
Allan looked at her, doubtful. "That's basically the same thing. Plus do actually think that," he squinted to read the list of plans that was tacked on the corkboard. "'Locking them inside a room with no escape' is merely pushing them in the right direction? 'Cause I think that sounds more like a hostage situation."
Allegra glared at him. "You know what? I don't need your help. Claude will help me. Right, Claude?"
Claude looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh no no no. Sorry Melodie but I can't."
"Uh, I'm sorry what?" Allegra blinked. It was very out of character for Claude to turn down the opportunity to help her with one of her elaborate plans. Not to mention that in this case, they were doing it to help Marinette.
"Allegra," he said solemnly, "this is a destiny thing. We just can't interfere."
Allegra facepalmed. "You can't be serious."
Claude looked at her dead in the eye. "If we interfere we might end up," he leaned towards  her and whispered " cursed"
"Oh give me a break." Allegra pushed Claude away. "Are you guys kidding me? This is Marinette we're talking about. You all can't possibly think that Marinette wouldn't want to meet her soulmate, and as her friends, we have to help her."
"I agree with Allegra."
Everyone spun around in surprise.
Felix rolled his eyes at his friends' incredulous expressions. "What? Marinette is my friend as well. Is it really that shocking that I want to see her happy?" The three of them nodded. He ignored them. "Besides, I've heard Marinette ramble about soulmates nonstop, so it's clear that meeting hers is what she would want."
Allegra was the first to react "See guys? Even Felix agrees with me!"
Felix huffed. "Yes, but I also think that your plans are ridiculous and ineffective."
"Ouch"
"I think the best thing we can do to help is to get them to interact and we-"
"That's literally what my plans are for!" Allegra interrupted.
Claude crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by 'we'? I haven't agreed to do anything."
Shooting both of them a glare, Felix continued. "- can do that without needing to kidnap them. We simply have to make it so that they have no other choice but to sit at the same table at the café. You all know how friendly Marinette is, it will only be a matter of time before they start talking."
There was a beat of silence.
"That… that might actually work," Allan admitted. "Soulmates are naturally drawn to each other so once they actually have a conversation we won't have to do anything else. They can figure out that they're soulmates by themselves." He paused and then chuckled. "We'll just have to push them in the right direction."
"But how are we going to get them in the café at the same time?" Allegra asked. "Tim always comes in right after Mari has left."
"Pft that's easy!" Claude exclaimed. "Just tell her that you need help with something and that you'll need for her to stay a while longer at the café. Since Mari doesn't have early classes on Wednesday she'll agree and- oh!" Claude suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened with horror. "This does not mean that I'm helping." He mumbled from underneath his hand.
Allan laughed. "I think you just did."
"Looks like someone's going to end up cursed." Allegra singed songed. "Not even ladybug is going to be able to help you with that bad luck that's to come." She teased.
Claude pouted. "Haha, laugh all you want." He then looked up at the corkboard and grimaced. "But you're right, there's no turning back now. What do you need me to do?"
Allegra clapped her hands in glee.
"Okay so here's the plan."
~♡~♡~♡~
Just like Claude had predicted, it was incredibly easy to convince Marinette to stay at the café. All that was left to do was orchestrate everything just so that the two soulmates had to sit at the same table.
It was easier said than done but after enlisting more people to help out, they were able to make sure that the café was full for that morning.
Everything was going according to plan…
Until…
"WHERE. IS. TIM?"
Claude looked around. "He hasn't arrived yet?"
"No!" Allegra cried. She glanced down at her watch and winced. They were running out of time.
Claude frowned. "And you know, it would have been nice if Marinette hadn't chosen today to wear a turtleneck."
Allegra couldn't help but agree. Sure, Marinette looked amazing with the turtleneck and skirt outfit but did she really have to wear it today? When they needed for her to show off her soul mark?
It was like the universe was against them.
But finally, Allegra heard a tinkling sound at the door. She spun around praying that it was Tim.
And it was!
He looked more tired than usual as he stumbled around trying to find a seat.
Allegra watched as Tim danced around the tables that were being occupied just as he was about to take a seat.
One after the other until finally, a good push later, he ended up at Marinette's table.
~♡~♡~♡~
Tim was too tired to deal with this.
All he wanted was to sit down, have a couple of cups of coffee at his favorite coffee shop and finally be awake enough to continue investigating the moth guy.
But apparently, that was too much to ask because almost all the tables were full.
"Sorry man," Claude whispered as he guided a couple and motioned them to sit at the table that Tim had beelined for.
"Oh, actually I'm waiting for Adam." Felix had said when Tim asked if he could sit with him. Which was strange since Adam had said that he was waiting for Felix when he asked him.
But he could barely comprehend what they were saying, so he was not conscious enough to complain.
Tim continued on his journey when he felt someone push him from behind. In his half-asleep haze, Tim lunged at the chair that was in front of him hoping that it would break his fall.
It took him a few seconds to recover. He wanted nothing more than to pass out right then and there, splayed out on a coffee shop chair as everyone stared at him wondering if he was drunk.
He too wondered if he was drunk, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so if he was drunk, he was not going to figure it out on his own.
When he finally looked up, his eyes met with a pair of beautiful bluebell eyes.
~♡~♡~♡~
Marinette watched as a guy stumbled around the café until finally flopping onto the other chair at her table.
It was clear that he was sleep-deprived. She had seen enough videos that her evil friends had taken when she was in a similar state to know the poor guy probably hadn't slept at all for the last week or so.
Marinette wanted nothing more than to drag the guy to the nearest bed or couch and wrap him up in a bunch of blankets. Just because she didn't comprehend the term "self-care" for herself  didn't make Marinette any less of a "mom friend"
But she had to remind herself that she didn't know the guy, so it might be considered kidnapping to drag someone somewhere against their will.
Too bad.
The best she could do was offer him her own coffee.
"Hey, I think you need this more than I do at the moment." She said, pushing the drink his way as he stood up.
He mumbled something that could be interpreted as a "thank you" and eagerly took the drink. His eyes lit up when the heavenly liquid touched his tongue.
It was almost miraculous how quickly the caffeine took effect.
Actually, it was Marinette may or may not have mixed a little concoction she made with Tikki that helped her when she stayed up late with her regular coffee.
The guy blinked. "This. Is. Incredible."
Marinette laughed "Yeah, it's what I always get. Though you still look like you need to sleep."
"Yeah, yeah whatever." He waved her off. "But seriously, what is this called? I need a gallon of this."
"Sorry," Marinette said sheepishly "but I'm afraid that's a secret, you know, I'm kind of everyone's favorite, so I get the miracle coffee." Okay so that was a lie but what else could she say?
The guy pouted. Marinette had to admit that he looked adorable.
"Well, then I'm sure you can get me some then... um"
"Marinette."
"Ah, nice to meet you, coffee goddess, I'm Tim."
Marinette's cheeks heated up. "Uh, coffee goddess? Shouldn't they be the coffee gods and goddesses?" She pointed at Allegra, Claude, and the others.
"Nah, you have blessed me with this amazing coffee. Claude didn't even help me in my time of need."
"You know Claude?" Marinette asked, surprised.
"Yep, I've been coming here since I arrived in Paris, so I've gotten to know Allegra and Claude a bit."
"That's funny, I've never seen you. And I come here every day." Marinette said.
"Huh, that's weird. I've never seen you either. "
And from there they kept talking. Like they were old friends and not just acquaintances. Marinette found out that Tim had come from Gotham city. That he was in Paris because of business. Meanwhile, Tim learned that Marinette was an aspiring fashion designer and a college student who was close friends with almost everyone from the café.
Hours passed and the two were still deep in conversation completely oblivious to the crowd that had gathered behind the cafe's counter to watch the soulmates.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before." Adrien, who had arrived after Tim, whispered to his cousin.
"I was under the impression that your father needed your assistance for the upcoming fashion show. I was not about to ask my dear uncle Gabe if I could steal you so that we could set up our friend and his future competitor, Marinette Dupain-cheng, with her soulmate."
Adrien hated to admit that he had a point. "Fine, but can you at least catch me up to date? Who is he?"
"He's a rich guy from Gotham city. He's pretty cool though he's basically Marinette when it comes to coffee which is honestly kinda scary now that I'm seeing them interact." Allegra whispered.
Adrien looked down to look at her. "Alright, I guess I'm going to have to do my own research since you guys are useless. What's his job? Why is he rich? If his from Gotham then who knows, maybe this guy is actually dangerous and wants to take Marinette as ransom for-"
"Oh please Adrien, stop with your theatrics. Do you honestly think that I would allow this if he was dangerous?" Felix interrupted.
"I mean-"
Felix glared at him.
"No?"
Felix sighed. "Timothy Drake is Marinette's soulmate, and I can assure you that he's clean. So don't worry about Marinette."
Allegra shushed the cousins. "Guys, I'm trying to listen here you know?"
"Um, you could probably hear better from up here" Felix nodded in agreement.
"Thanks, Adrien, but I don't want to risk Marinette seeing me and then remembering about time and stuff."
"Ah"
"Speaking of time, it's been years since I last ate, I'm hungry." Claude cut in.
"Claude! You're supposed to be with the customers!" Allegra whisper-shouted.
"Whoops."
~♡~♡~♡~
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Marinette eventually remembered the reason she had stayed in the cafe. Not only that but when she looked at her watch she realized that she was running late for class.
After Marinette's rushed exit, Tim went back to investigating Hawkmoth. But while they were trying to concentrate on their own thing. Marinette with her class and Tim with his research they found themselves zoning out and thinking about each other.
It was strange, they had quite literally just met.
Why had they made such an impact on each other?
~♡~♡~♡~
It wasn't until Marinette was getting ready to go to bed that she found the answer.
"Tikki is… is that what I think it is." Marinette's voice trembled as she stared at her reflection on the mirror.
Tikki gasped. "Oh Marinette, I think it is!"
Staring back at her was her soul mark, which no longer was a regular coffee cup but rather a gorgeous cup with beautiful red flowers that surrounded a somewhat familiar symbol.
"But, how? I mean they're not supposed to change… right? And why?" Marinette's eyes widened. "Does this mean that I met my soulmate? Who is it?"
Tikki giggled, "You seriously don't know?"
"Umm no? Should I?" Tikki continued to giggle as her holder looked at her confused. "Who is it Tikki?"
"Oh Marinette, how many new people did you meet today?"
"Uh, I don't know? I mean surely I must've passed by lots of strangers in the street." Marinette panicked. "Oh no Tikki! What if one of them is my soulmate? I'll never find out who they are!"
"So you don't remember meeting anyone else?"
"I don't think so, well other than ohhh- "
"Exactly"
~♡~♡~♡~
Tim could not believe what he was seeing. Gone was the plain coffee cup he was used to seeing, the daily reminder of the fact that he was still painfully single, it now had an intricate flower pattern that surrounded a symbol.
He recognized that symbol.
After weeks of researching and tailing the red Parisian heroine, he knew that it was the Ladybug symbol.
But why was it on his soul mark?
Unless…
No, the heroine couldn't be his soulmate, Tim hasn't even officially met her. Nor had he even seen her today.
The only blue-eyed girl he had met was Marinette.
Marinette  
No, it was impossible. Except it wasn't. Tim had only known the girl for a couple of hours, but he knew that  Marinette would make a great heroine or vigilante.
But, he… he was probably hallucinating, right? Tim hadn't slept for weeks, so surely he was just seeing things and his soul mark was still a plain coffee cup and the Marinette conclusion was just wishful thinking.
Right?
Because otherwise, his first meeting with his soulmate was him acting like a sleep-deprived zombie and Tim could not allow that.
Well, one thing was for sure, he really needed to get some sleep.
~♡~♡~♡~
Three days.
It took three days for Marinette to find Tim.
She looked everywhere. The coffee shop, Le Grand Paris Hotel, the tourist areas, and when she was ladybug she looked down from all the rooftops trying to find him.
But he had vanished, leaving Marinette worried sick that he had either A. Gone back to Gotham  B. Died or C. Been so horrified that she was his soulmate that he decided to move to a remote island and changed his name in hopes of never seeing her again.
Gosh, she was starting to sound like her fourteen-year-old self.
But finally, she saw him, sitting on a bench, not far from her own home, looking down at his wrist.
He looked at his wrist like it was some puzzle he needed to solve. Marinette also noticed that he looked a lot more refreshed, so he must've finally gotten some sleep.
Marinette cleared her throat. "Well, you've been a very hard person to find Mr. Drake."
Tim looked up. "Ma- Marinette!"
"We need to talk."
Tim nodded his mouth hanging wide open as he stared at her soul mark.  
"How do you feel about coffee? There's a coffee shop that's not very far from here, I hear their coffee is divine.
~♡~♡~♡~
Bonus:
(this was going to be a scene on the fic but I didn't know how to add it but it has important info sooo)
*They are at the coffee shop*
Marinette: So you're red robin.
Tim: And you're Ladybug
Marinette: Should I be worried? Like doesn't this compromise our secret identities?
*Claude and Allegra appear with some pastries*
Claude: Yooo Marinette! So you found your soulmate! Crazy right? We totally didn't have anything to do with it!
*Allegra elbows him*
Claude: So uh, congratulations! I um feel happy for you.
*looks nervously at Allegra who is glaring at him*
Claude: Bummer about the soul mark though…
*Allegra keeps glaring*
~♡~♡~♡~ Permanent tag list  ~♡~♡~♡~
Claude: What? It's just a plain white cup!
Bonus bonus:
(here's a bad doodle and my crappy handwriting)
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(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)
@charme-de-malchan, @theatreandcomicfreak, @m3owww, @elliebelliegirl, @genevieve-the-demonologist, @vixen-uchiha, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @waffleyunsure, @technicallyburninggarden, @azuremayscarlet, @vroomtaka, @emimar7, @ichigorose, @maskedpainter, @art-is-hard-to-do-sorry
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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years
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Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳
And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰
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Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?
Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔
“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?
“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.
“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.
Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭
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Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐
You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️
Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔
Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤
Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭
“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot
Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”
“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?
“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬
“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅
“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃
“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.
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I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭
“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩
“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’
“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬
“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.
“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔
Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.
Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.
I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳
Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.
I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.
That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.
Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔
I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?
I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.
Don’t you actually dare.
“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.
Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.
Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know
Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗
Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways
Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔
Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧
Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong
Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭
“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃
“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.
Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅
“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳
Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes
“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance
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Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭
Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.
“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.
Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭
“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.
“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭
Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧
“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭
But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”
Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too
Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗
And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend
Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.
Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳
Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.
“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.
“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok
“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃
“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧
“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏
“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought
Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺
Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?
Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅
Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣
Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...
Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺
He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying
Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.
But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”
His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all
Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”
Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.
Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭
Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”
“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...
“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏
Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅
And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅
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eryiss · 3 years
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Ship: Freed x Laxus
Rating: Teen
Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck
Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.
Notes: Hi everyone. Fraxus Week is at an end, and I really enjoyed writing everything this year. The AU's were a lot of fun and canon writing it always enjoyable, I hope you liked what I've written, and make sure to look at @fuckyeahfraxus to see everyone else has made.
Links: Chapter One ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction
Chapter Two
Laxus was many things, but patient wasn't one of them. Honestly, it was miraculous he'd lasted a week before it had come to this.
He stormed into the apartment building that Freed lived in, walked to the address Makarov had given him, and slammed his hand against it three times; loudly. He was bouncing from foot to foot slightly, hearing the shifting of movements from behind the door as Freed walked towards it. He was taking his time, and Laxus felt the urge to slam his hand on the door again a few times to make him hurry the hell up.
For a week, Laxus had wanted to do this. He'd stopped himself for seven long, long days, but it was getting too much. Laxus couldn't go to sleep another night knowing that Freed was living twenty minutes away. That if the rune mage stopped with this shit, they could be repeating that kiss.
That fucking kiss!
He'd never been kissed like that. He doubted that anyone had been kissed like that. It had been so… so… The words couldn't come to Lauxs. It was all encompassing. Overwhelming. It was like standing in the centre of a thunder storm, letting the lightning burn across his skin and explode in his throat as he consumed it. Freed had been against him, attached to him, but battling him in a way Laxus couldn't understand.
Realistically, he knew it was for the mission, but he couldn't help but think there was more to the kiss. He'd caught a few of Freed's glances at his body – how Freed hadn't noticed Laxus doing the same thing was miraculous – and the reactions throughout the day seemed to suggest Freed had been just as affected as Laxus had.
But then the rune mage had just shut off. Any semblance of relaxation was gone the moment they pulled apart, and all Freed seemed capable of thinking of and speaking about was their mission. He spent the next hour avoiding Laxus, stating that they'd spent enough time together for plausibility and that it would be better to spread out. Laxus had agreed because he wasn't going to push things if Freed wanted to focus on his work then he could understand it, but for the rest of the afternoon he'd found his gaze drifting to him whenever his mind wandered. The press of the man's lips against his was like a haunting: inescapable and unforgettable. Laxus had wanted to storm over to the man, kiss him properly and say 'to hell' with the mission.
He'd never felt like this before. It was exhilarating.
But when the mission had ended, and Freed fell back on his habit of taking missions and spending no time in the guildhall, Laxus realised that Freed was avoiding him. Laxus was damn insulted by that.
Freed was into him, Laxus knew that, and he hoped that the passion with which he'd kissed Freed and the many times he'd lost focus because he was checking Freed out was enough for Freed to know the attraction was reciprocated. Freed didn't, for a second, seem to be a coward. Not about fighting and not about his own feelings, so why the hell was he avoiding Laxus? It took Laxus a full week of thinking over the situation for him to realise what was actually happening.
Laxus was an old hand at wizardry, and knew how to have a life outside of work. Freed didn't. Hell: when Laxus had reported the mission's success to Makarov, he'd asked the old man why he'd chosen Freed to spy on him, and he'd been told Freed needed to balance his work and life better, and Laxus was meant to help him.
So, as he stood at Freed's door, Laxus was going to do that.
The door opened, and Freed was revealed. He was wearing nothing but his white shirt, unbuttoned and sightly ruffled, and the trousers he'd worn during work. For a moment, Laxus allowed himself to relish in the sight off the man in a rumpled and domestic state, with his hair tied up high and his eyes still sleep worn because of the early morning. He shook his focus and met Freed's eyes.
"Laxus," Freed said with a frown. "What are you doing here?"
"Bored of this whole avoiding me shit," Laxus grunted, placing a hand on the wall to lean against it. "Pack a bag, we're going on a mission for the weekend."
"Excuse me?" Freed said, almost laughing. Laxus understood that – coming to the man's house unannounced and demanding his presence for a weekend was pretty arrogant – but he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. "What makes you think I'll do that simply because you tell me?"
"Because I haven't finished the paper work from that spa mission, and since I was meant to teach ya how to be a mage during the mission and it's not over, I have authority over you," Laxus grinned, knowing that Freed was not going to take that level of bullshit. He smirked when Freed went to argue back, and cut in before he could. "Besides, if you don't come with me, I won't be going on any missions with you, and all that S-Class money goes away. Wouldn't want that, huh?"
It was a dick move, but a means to an end. Freed glared at him, and that was all the agreement Laxus needed.
"Train station at nine AM," He informed Freed, turning, and walking down the hall. He spoke without looking back. "See ya there."
---
The train juddered to a stop, and Laxus felt his stomach settle almost instantly. He closes his eyes, swallowed down the small rising of bile that crept up his throat, and ignored the amused expression that Freed was looking at him with.
"Feeling a little sick, Laxus?" He taunted gently, and Laxus faux glared.
"Peachy," He grumbled.
Any lingering annoyance from earlier in the morning had gone when Freed had reached the train station. Laxus had brought him a coffee, bagel, and pastry as a peace offering. He'd been forceful about getting Freed to leave with him - he felt like it was necessary to kick Freed into action - but he couldn't have Freed pissed at him. If Laxus was right, and played his cards well, he might end up with Freed before the weekend was over. He wanted to do it properly.
"You look it," Freed taunted, taking his bag from the overhead rack and handing Laxus his rucksack. "May I know what the mission is now?"
"Not yet," Laxus dismissed the request.
They climbed off the train, and Laxus was thankful to be on solid ground again. The town they'd arrived in was a small one, tucked away high in the mountains; something that had not helped Laxus' motion sickness. He'd looked the town up on one of the guild's many maps before leaving, so knew exactly where to go and started following the roads without hesitation. Freed kept in step with him, clearly waiting for Laxus to offer some explanation.
He wouldn't get it. Laxus had spoken with Makarov about Freed once the mission had finished. The main thing he'd learned was that Freed needed to sort his shit out, because he was damn near hitting his limit. He also seemed like the kind of guy to refuse help, so Laxus was going to make sure he couldn't.
Once they got to the hotel, Laxus would confess. Until then, they were on a 'mission'.
"Could you at least tell me the type of mission?" Freed pushed the matter because the smartass needed to know everything. It was kinda funny seeing him getting pissy about it. "Eradication, interrogation, reconnaissance or escort?"
"You actually use those terms?" Laxus quirked an eyebrow as he chuckled, and subsequently walked into a wall of runes. He stumbled back, and rubbed his nose as he mumbled "You quick castes that? Damn."
"Why are we here Laxus," Freed insisted
"Who trained you how to cast, because that was impressive," Laxus ignored the question, walking forward when the wall dissipated. "You're gonna be a damn powerhouse in a few years."
"Answer the-" Freed cut himself off. "What do you mean 'going to be'?"
"You think you're powerful now?" Laxus taunted.
"I know that I am," Freed narrowed his eyes for a moment, before laughing at himself. "You're rather good at distracting people, aren't you? Perhaps you're smarter than I thought you'd be."
"You thought I'd be dumb?" Laxus asked.
"Yes," Freed said unflinchingly, and Laxus barked out a laugh.
"You should spend more time with the rest of the people in the guild," He smiled. "You're as much an asshole as the rest of 'em."
"How flattering," Freed said, voice droll. "You still haven't answered my question though. Why are we here?"
Laxus could see the hotel, and decided that it would be best to not push his luck with Freed. He thought about how he'd say it, and decided that he might as well jump into it rather than pissing around and avoiding the issue. Hell, if he couldn't be honest he'd be a damn hypocrite.
"I lied about the mission," He admitted, and Freed frowned. "We're here for a weekend break."
"A what?" Freed asked as if the concept was foreign to him. Given how much he worked, it might be.
"A weekend break. The place we did the mission for has a branch out here, and as a thank you for our work they gave up some coupons that we can use here," Laxus explained, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulling out the two tickets, handing one to Freed. "You clearly need a break from the work before you get sloppy on a mission and it ends up getting you hurt, and I'm not gonna turn down a free weekend in a luxury resort."
"And why didn't you tell me this from the beginning?" Freed demanded, clearly irritated.
"Because you wouldn't have come if you didn't think you'd make any money from it," Laxus shrugged as they walked into the lobby of the reception. "Like I said this morning, until the paper work's done, I'm meant to be teachin' you how to be a mage. Biggest obstacle for that right now is you not treating yourself right. Until you do it on your own, I'm gonna force you to do it."
They were at the front desk, and Laxus was speaking with the receptionist, before Freed could get a word in. Laxus made sure to confirm that both rooms would be required, and the receptionist assured him that their cleaning staff would have them prepared as quickly as they could, telling them both that they had access to all the amenities and facilities the resort had to offer in the meantime. Laxus thanked him, signed the book to confirm his booking, and stepped back to look at Freed. Again, he spoke before Freed had the chance.
"You don't need to live mission to mission anymore," His voice was softer now. "If you don't give yourself a break, you burn out. I'm sorry I lied, I'll make it up to you somehow, but enjoy this place while you're here. You put in a lot of effort since you joined the guild, treat this as your reward."
Freed looked like he wanted to argue, but halted. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I would enjoy a break."
"I know," Laxus said bluntly, placing a hand on Freed's shoulder. "And when you're ready, we're gonna talk about what happened on the mission. Because I don't wanna forget it ever happened, or push past it, or do whatever it is you thought could happen when you were ignoring me."
"I wasn't-" Freed began, but Laxus stopped him.
"We'll talk later," He said softly, before grinning. "I'm gonna take a swim. You can come with me if you wanna ogle me again, but I think a massage would do you good. You look really tired, basically dead to the world."
Laxus was walking away with a grin before Freed could respond to the teasing, and when he came face to face with another runic wall, he simply laughed. His stomach did a little flip when he heard Freed laughing too.
---
"I'm ready to talk now," Freed said, and Laxus nodded.
It was the evening now, and the two men had spent the day in different parts of the resort. Sometimes apart, sometimes together, Laxus had underwent almost all of the treatments available, as well as spending a good few hours in the pool, sauna, and hot springs. He'd retreated to his room when the relaxation had brought on a bout of tiredness, and had been napping until Freed's knocking on the door woke him. He'd adorned a robe and answered it, feeling weirdly excited when he'd seen it was Freed.
He looked good. Obviously, he had made use of the facilities, as he looked well rested, without the stress marks that bordered his eyes, and was holding himself looser. His hair was damp and tied up high, perhaps from a recent shower, and Laxus again revelled in the sight of a domestic version of Freed Justine.
"Take a seat," Laxus said, motioning to the chair as he sat on the foot of the bed.
"Thank you," Freed said, voice relaxed and without fear. Good. "When you said we needed to talk, I assume you meant about the kiss."
"I did," Laxus agreed. "But before you start, I wanna say something. Give you a piece of advice about being a mage that it takes a lot of time for most people to get," Freed thought for a moment, but made a gesture for Laxus to continue. "When you become a mage, you give up your safety, your stability, and your time. Sometimes you don't know when you'll next be paid, and sometimes you don't know if you'll make it out of a mission alive. When you get into wizardry you have to change how you live, act fast and do what your gut's telling you. Your instincts aren't just important in the mission, they're important in your personal life too. Sometimes you just have to follow them."
"And this relates to the kiss how?"
"If you don't want to be with me, then go with that. Don't worry about offending me, or pissing me off, or me stopping the missions together, or anything. If that kiss was just for the missions, and I've misread things, then don't fuck around being polite. Rip the band aid off and tell me straight."
"And if you didn't misread things?"
Laxus grinned, leaning back slightly. "Then follow your instincts."
Freed did just that, by standing up, tipping Laxus chin upwards, and bringing him into another earth shatteringly perfect kiss. And this time, there was no doubt. The kiss was for him, and there would be many others.
---
Ten Years Later
Laxus groaned as he submerged himself into the bubbling warm water. It was late at night in the early spring, and the hot tub he submerged his body into was in beautifully warm contrast with the cold evening air around him. The feeling of half-healed injuries and tense muscles seemed to weep for the hot water, and he closed his eyes in relaxation.
He needed this. He'd needed it for weeks, and now it was finally happening.
Obviously, taking over as guild-master would lead to an adjustment in his life, and teething troubles had occurred. There were more responsibilities than he had expected, everything from paperwork to ensure the building was fixed every time one of the brats damaged it, to arguing with the local councilmembers about how the good that Fairy Tail did greatly outweighed the bad. Honestly, trying to explain that an idiotic fire mage had literally saved their lives multiple times and therefore had earned the right to blow up the occasional fountain or set fire to a random ornamental tree was not a fun task to take.
Admittedly, he didn't make life easier for himself. He insisted on taking at least one mission a week, something that almost everyone in the guild deemed to be idiotic. But he was only thirties, he was an incredibly strong mage, and couldn't simply just hang up his profession because he was in charge of the guild.
"You're back then?" Freed asked amusedly from the patio.
"Yeah," Laxus nodded, opening his eyes, and smiling at his husband. "Wanna join me?"
"Sure," Freed nodded, and made work on removing his clothes.
The hot tub was something they'd brought three years prior, two years after they'd brought their marital home. After the odd inclusion of spas at the start of their relationships, they'd become reliant on their facilities after a hard mission to relax and untense their bodies. When they'd moved, the distance from their house to the nearest spa had been too long, so they'd invested in a hot tub of their own and learned how to massage one another. The latter advancement in the relationship had been a fun, fun few weeks for them both.
Laxus grinned a little as he saw Freed remove his underwear, and he raised an eyebrow at the man. Freed noticed, laughed a little and playfully kicked the man's thigh as he climbed into the tub, sitting beside him. Laxus raised his arm slightly to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him close.
"The mission went well, I assume?" Freed asked, idly playing with the surface of the water.
Laxus halted, before looking down at Freed and speaking slowly. "Was fine, no problems."
"No problems at all?" Freed probed.
"Not one."
"You are aware that you are my husband and Bickslow is one of my best friends," Freed continued playing with the water, voice equally annoyed and amused. It was a tone only Freed could manage. "And if my husband collapses in the middle of a fight due to exhaustion, my best friend is going to tell me."
"Fucking traitor," He muttered, before sighing and looking to Freed. "I'm fine. I'm back here, so no problem."
"Laxus, you passed out because you're overworking yourself," Freed chastised, placing a hand on Laxus' thigh and stroking it softly. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."
Laxus knew he couldn't, of course, but it wasn't that easy. "I know," He admitted, sighing. "But I just can't give up working as a mage, not yet. I always thought it'd be what I do, y'know. I thought I'd always be the guy who goes to a town, fixed their problems, burns through my magic, and that's all. And I knew that eventually it was gonna end, but, well, I've been a mage for twelve years. It went by too fucking quickly and it feels…" He thought for a moment. "Being a mage is all I have, and I don't wanna let myself slip if I ever need to fall back on it."
"I do understand that, Laxus," Freed sighed. "But as you are now, you're losing you're edge not because you've dropped the sword, but you've used it so much that it's starting to shatter."
"I get that," Laxus whispered, nodding. Freed hand clasped on his thigh and patted him. "I'll stop going on 'em, it's time. I know that."
"You don't need to stop altogether, I've no doubt your grandfather didn't when he was young," Freed smiled, resting his head on Laxus' shoulder. "Perhaps you take it down to one mission a month, maybe not always go on S-Class missions. Only allow yourself to take what you can handle with your new responsibilities, not what you were able to do ten years ago."
"You're right," Laxus nodded, pulling Freed closer and kissing him on the top of his head. "When d'you get so smart about this shit?"
"I had a good teacher," Freed chuckled.
It was almost ironic. Almost exactly ten years to the day, here they both were again. Sat together in a hot tub, side by side, one of them struggling with the responsibilities of their new life while the other tried to advise them on how to deal with it. Laxus could almost laugh at the cyclical nature of it, but was distracted when Freed's roaming hand slid up his stomach and his husband moved closer to him.
"You know," Freed began, voice a little naughty now. "If you ever need to burn off some energy, I could teach you a few techniques that have proven useful in the past."
"Oh really?" Laxus quirked a brow, hand roaming down Freed's back, stroking his spine.
"Indeed," Freed nodded. "I'm sure you'll become quite the addict though."
"I can risk that," Laxus smirked.
And when Freed shifted so he was straddling Laxus, the blonde grinned. He leant up and pulled Freed into a passionate, explosive, lightning-filled kiss. A kiss he would indulge in anytime, anyplace.
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