#and the manager lady who lectured us made the comment that shes calling me next time she spills somethin 🧍‍♂️bro this is not my job

[stonerzelda]

I will say i can write the shit out of a professional email tho. Like yeah i poast abt stupid shit online and don't hide my personality on here but at least when it comes to work its like the spirit of a 12th century scribe possesses me to hashtag own the corporations

#i feel kinda bad bc i sent it at like 4am last night but its been on my mind all week and like. im sorry but that behavior is Not okay #or professional in the slightest #we literally go out of our way to help our colleagues when they need it like i stayed 45 minutes passed my shift that day to help the nurse #clean up HER coffee that SHE spilled on her own carpet despite my job being abt catering to the residents #and the manager lady who lectured us made the comment that shes calling me next time she spills somethin 🧍‍♂️bro this is not my job

[fkitwebhaal]

Ship: Background Durge/Astarion but it's not the focus

Fandom: BG3

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, game spoilers

Rating: PG-13

AO3

Summary: 

When her fellow amnesiac tells Shadowheart that they “hate all the Gods equally” she’s sure they must be lying. By the time she finds them lecturing Gale about the Goddess of magic, it has become abundantly clear they they were not joking. Or: Durge is the biggest God hater in Faerun.

This Chapter:

Minthara joins the party, the Absolute gets time on the hate train and the Dark Urge makes an observation.

Notes: this chapter was difficult because I have yet to recruit Minthata in a playthrough (I’m trying so hard girl). I used the wiki and YouTube clips to manage as best I could, but there isn’t a lot of uploads of her content in a good playthrough, so you’ll have to bare with me if this isn’t as canon compliant as one might like.

Also, a quick and you'll miss it warning for self harm via magic. It's brief.

Fic under the cut!

Minthara spent her first night at camp with her tent far away from the others, watching from a distance.

This truly was a place of vagabonds and strays, she thought, observing the various members of their company. A vampire spawn clinging to the closest thing he had to freedom and a tiefling trying to claw every scrap she could before she burned from the inside out. A noble’s son who was willing to tar his own soul to uphold his ideals and a wizard who’s tendency for self destruction was visible on his chest. A competent knight left without a liege to serve and a Sharran prone to making attachments despite her Lady’s commands. And she could not forget the Druid, who’d stiffened when she appeared and watched her closely ever since.

Then there was the matter of the sorcerer, the one who’d rescued her despite being previously at odds. They, Rune she reminded herself, were in the center of camp now, talking to some of their companions over the fire. She knew some things about them too, but mostly that they knew little about themselves. Karlach had told Minthara they didn’t even know their own name as they made their way from Moonrise, the tiefling clearly trying to make small talk to fill the silence.

“Good thing you remember stuff, cus Rune doesn’t,” she said as they navigated the cracked streets. “According to the others, they didn’t even know their name when they woke up. Apparently they kept asking folks to pick one until Gale got fed up and told them to pick one themselves, cus everyone was using something different.” She chuckled. “Shadowheart said they yanked one of Gale’s books and flipped through the pages for a few seconds until they settled on Rune.”

“Sure, tell her all our secrets, Karlach,” Shadowheart had hissed. Minthara waited to see if the subject of their conversation would object as well, but Rune had only shot Shadowheart a disapproving glance and commented she was just embarrassed she’d called them “Scar” for two whole days.

It was curious, Minthara thought, that Rune should remember nothing about their past, when Minthara remembered every last detail. She wasn’t sure if she was envious of their lack of recall or thankful it hasn’t impacted her as well. On one hand, to forget her station, her home, her comrades, even her own name, seemed devastating.

On the other, remembering how she’d lost it all except her name felt like her mind was being shattered all over again.

“Minthara,” Rune said, approaching her. They were no longer in their fighting gear, but Minthara knew enough of mages to know that made them no less dangerous. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

She nodded, gesturing to a log she’d pulled up next to her tent to sit on. They both sat down, far enough away from each other to denote a lack of familiarity, but not so far enough to imply complete dislike.

“Some of your companions do not approve of my presence, it seems,” Minthara said, looking back to the camp. Almost everyone was inside their tents now, Minthara noted, except for the Druid, who was watching her with cold eyes. He might be a problem, she noted.

Rune’s gaze followed her own. She watched as they made a gesture with their right hand, as if trying to wave him off, and a frown began to tug on the edge of their mouth when the elf shook his head. They let out a small sigh, and turned back to her.

“He’s mostly concerned for my safety, I think. But he won’t harm you. No one will, as long as you don’t harm them,” they said, no uncertainty in their tone. “They’ll come along once they realize we’ll need all the help we can get to take on the Absolute. It would be foolish to reject your help when you know so much about the enemy.”

Practical, Minthara thought. That was good: she’s served under the command of a madwoman previously, and had little desire to repeat the experience. Her hands covered in blood, that snide laughter, the way she’d looked upon the women with pride and respect-

“Plus, you have information I want,” they continued, pulling her away from the memory of Orin’s blank white eyes. Minthata welcomed the distraction. The sorcerer seemed tense now, their fingers tapping incessantly on their knee.

“And what is that?”

They stopped tapping their fingers. When they spoke next, they took care to look her in the eye. “Have you seen me before? At Moonrise, not at the Goblin camp.”

Minthata thought back to her time under the Absolute’s thrall. One would think such a period would be foggy and unclear, but she remembered every moment like it was etched in stone. It felt like a purposeful cruelty on the part of the Absolute; not only did it seize control of one’s mind, but it demanded one’s full recollection of the experience, even if one were to break free. She doubted she could remember everyone she’d seen while in the Absolute’s service, but she knew she would have remembered Rune. It was nothing to do with their appearance, or their talents for magic, simply how they walked, the look in their eyes when they’d seen Thorm’s on the throne.

Minthata would have not survived her childhood in Menzoberranzan if she could not spot someone dangerous.

“No, I did not.”

“Damn.” Rune clenched their hand into a fist and shook their head. “It was worth a shot.”

So they had been like her once, Minthara thought. She’d suspected as much, given the way the Commander-no Thorm- spoke to them, but she wasn’t sure until now. Perhaps they’d been most active while she was trapped in the colony, forced to watch as-

No, she couldn’t think about that now either.

“You don’t feel any…” Rune trailed off, their brow furrowing. “Violent impulses, do you? Ones you don’t want.”

Minthara peered up at the sky, considering. She felt violent impulses, absolutely, but she either relished in them or cast them aside with ease. Her Oath was that of Vengeance, and that made such feelings a useful tool, when directed towards the right target.

“No.”

“I see.” Rune looked away from her, their hands still in tight fists. They looked tired, Minthara thought, more tired than she could remember when they’d confronted her at the Goblin camp and cast hold person to keep her still. Perhaps they were not sleeping well in lands like these. Was that how sleeping worked? She’d slept so little it was hard to remember. It might be important to figure that out, should she reside among mostly non-elves for a period. Were someone not getting enough rest, that could be a liability.

“Ketheric serves Myrkul, correct?”

Minthra thought to Thorm’s armor, the skeletons dancing along the fabric beneath. Thorm did not speak much of his other patron within Moonrise, but he wasn’t subtle either. “Along with the Absolute, yes.”

“Interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

Rune reached into their pocket and pulled out a journal. They opened it, took a quick peak, then placed it back where it came. They soon turned back at her, their expression calmer than it was moments prior.

“The Absolute, whatever it is, isn’t a God. At least, I don’t think so. I assumed whoever was behind this must have little love for the Gods.”

Minthara could follow most of that logic, except for the tail end. “Why?”

Rune leaned forward, resting their chin in their palms. “Well, the Absolute is an imposter, is it not? It’s not an actual deity, it’s just pretending to be one. All that faith it commands from its followers, all that devotion, it’s going towards a fraud.” They turned their face and cocked an eyebrow at her. “And the Gods are not fond of those who steal their potential faithful, especially when they’re not a God themselves.”

Lolth was, Minthata thought. She’d called on her for aid and been left with cold silence. It was not surprising, she knew how the Spider Queen treated those who failed her. Still, Minthata had hoped Lolth might save her, not out of fondness, but as a tool to enact her vengeance. It was disappointing her lady had chosen otherwise.

Lolth had forsaken her, as was her way. In turn, once the Absolute was crushed, Minthata would turn her oath upon the Mistress of Lies in turn. Loth’s teachings would have expected nothing less.

Her gaze refocused on the Sorcerer. Rune’s expression was curious. They were almost staring past her, their lip curled back in a cruel sneer. She’d seen a tint of that expression before during her mockery of a trial, when Thorm had spoken to the sorcerer in a familiar tone. A bitter scowl had crossed their face at his tone, and for a moment, Minthara had thought they might lunge forward to try to claw the general’s heart out with their bare hands.

“You look amused by the idea,” she said. Rune startled, jerking as the expression vanished from their face in an instant.

“Ah-I’m not-“ They cleared their throat. Minthara didn’t miss the smell of burnt fabric and she glanced down to see scorch marks in the fabric of their trousers. Had they used shocking grasped themselves? She knew sorcerers could sometimes cast without words.

“I hate the Absolute,” Rune said, pulling her attention back to their words. “It controls people and it makes them their slaves. I hold them responsible for a number of atrocities that I’m determined to see them answer for. But mocking the Gods is not one of them.”

Minthra tilted her head in agreement. She wouldn’t have to explain her new relationship to Lolth to this one at least. So many mortals were confused how her people could worship the Spider Queen and decried her a moment later. Rune, she thought, might understand.

“Thank you for speaking with me,” Rune said, standing up. “That’s all I had for you today. Get some rest, we need to find Balthazar.”

Minthra nodded, thinking about how delighted she’d be to get her hands on that necromancer. As Rune walked off, she thought back to the expression on their face from earlier, the sadistic one. She was positive she hadn’t seen them during her time under the Absolute before the Goblin camp, but that expression. That expression she’d seen before. She just couldn’t place it.

As she closed her eyes to trance, the blank whites of Orin’s stared back at her.

#minthara #bg3 fic #rune tavernus #iz writes

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation. 

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right. 

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #laisse tomber les filles #the devil all the time #college au #au

[hikari-kaitou]

Capcom’s Official AA Fanclub Surveys - Main Series Edition

Naturally, Capcom’s official AA fanclub site didn't only post surveys about the DGS characters; they published far more of them about the main series characters. It makes sense, as they started the trend before the DGS series had even been conceived.

Back in the old days, they used to hold a survey on Capcom’s official AA fansite every few months where they’d write about the seasonal activities of a handful of characters and ask fans to vote for the funniest/most pleasant/strangest/etc answer.

They stopped doing them in like… 2016? 2017? The original text is lost for good as far as I can tell. Even the wayback machine couldn’t help because the content was password locked and you can’t get past the password wall while remaining in the archived version.

Fortunately, I saved some of my translations of them so I thought I’d share them. Unfortunately, I was doing these translations very casually and only intended to share them with two of my close friends at the time when I did them, so some of them are just summaries rather than proper translations, and I tended to only focus on characters that we personally were interested in or scenarios that we thought were funny or interesting. That means there are parts missing, and because I didn't expect the original text to be wiped off the site I didn't save it so I could go back and fill in the blanks. Sorry about that...

Cut for length!

"Spring is on its way and each of the AA cast members spent their day off in different ways. Who's way of spending their day off sounds the most pleasant?"

Phoenix- he finished unpacking his moving boxes and sorting his seasonal clothing. While he was packing away his ugly pink sweater and such, he happened across the complete works of Shakespeare at the bottom of one of the boxes, got completely absorbed in reading, and ended up abandoning his unpacking.

Mia- She went shopping at a department store for a new summer suit. On her way, she coincidentally ran into Maya, who was on her way to the agency to hang out, but then at some point Maya vanished. Mia tried calling her cell phone but she didn't answer. "Don't tell me she's lost at her age," Mia thought, and began to search for her. She found Maya transfixed by a rooftop Steel Samurai show. It seems that she was both exasperated and relieved.

Maya- she tagged along on Mia's shopping trip, but the second she spied a poster for a rooftop Steel Samurai show, she made a beeline for the roof. She got into a cheering battle with a mean-looking elementary school boy and really enjoyed the show. When the show was over, she reunited with an exasperated looking Mia. She gleefully led Mia to a burger restaurant so they could eat some burgers together.

Edgeworth- he treated himself to a drive along the coast in his red sports car... Well, that was the plan, but then he was pushed by his mentor Von Karma into being the driver for his shopping trip. As a reward for his service, he received a brand new Von Karma style, stylish and flashy summer suit.

Then there's Larry, who dragged Phoenix to a café to hit on its hot owner, and the judge who bought a wig.

"Apollo, Fulbright, Edgeworth, Klavier and Kristoph made visits to a nursery school near the courthouse. Which of them did the most pleasant activity with the children?"

Apollo acted out the story of the “Crying Red Ogre” for the children. Phoenix played the part of the blue ogre, and Apollo was the red ogre, and Apollo’s wailing moved the children to tears too. In a panic over all the crying, they got Trucy to cheer them up with a magic trick in which she made Apollo disappear.

Fulbright: He came dressed in a blinding white costume to teach the children about justice and put on a play. The children gave him thunderous applause... But when Jinxie, who had been forced to play the part of the heroine, saw Fulbright, she thought he was the ghost of an army general, got scared, and slapped a charm on his face.

Edgeworth and Gumshoe: He and Gumshoe were going to reenact the story of Kintarou (an old Japanese fairytale). Franziska handed Edgeworth the Kintarou costume she’d designed (If you've seen Ghibli's Spirited Away, recall what Bou, the giant baby, wears. That's what we're talking about here). Edgeworth fearfully asked “You... expect me to wear this...?” Gumshoe, who had painted his whole body black to play the role of a bear, told him “Of course, sir! It doesn’t fit me!” and shoved Edgeworth out on stage in it. Edgeworth quickly began to reconsider Gumshoe’s salary for next month.

Klavier and Kristoph: Kristoph started giving a boring lecture on the importance of law, and the kids were getting antsy. Seeing this, Klavier came over with his guitar to liven things up, performing a rock style arrangement of the “The Bear Went Over The Mountain". But then he threw in the unnecessary comment of “If any of you scratch the frets of my guitar, I’ll be suing for damage of property, ok?” And they both ended up getting kicked out.

"This survey is about who knows how to enjoy a sunny day at Gourd Lake the best"

Simon: To give Taka some exercise, Blackquill took him and Fulbright (who was on guard duty) out for some falconry. Things were going well until Taka heard something about this mysterious creature “Gourdy,” freaked out, flew into the little shop selling Gourdy merchandise and started making a huge mess. Blackquill and Fulbright gathered Taka up in a panic and hightailed it out of there as fast as they could.

Edgeworth had seen Phoenix home and on his way back passed by Gourd Lake. Just as he was starting to get bad flashbacks... he happened to hear Larry in the middle of a flirting attempt and got dragged in. The woman he was trying to put the moves on was a foreigner, and she and Edgeworth started chatting in her native language. Larry couldn’t understand and was annoyed that Edgeworth was apparently moving in on his target, so he sulked and blew up at Edgeworth.

Athena tried to play matchmaker for Apollo and Juniper, so she told them to meet her in the forest near Gourd Lake so that they would run into each other there and hopefully hit it off. Juniper got there first, expecting to find Athena, but when Apollo showed up, she panicked and hid behind a tree. While she was trying to gather her nerve to go talk to him, he wandered off and she lost sight of him.

Phoenix was at the park and he got caught by Larry who was doing his part time job of selling Samurai Dogs. Larry saw a pretty lady that he wanted to flirt with so he asked Phoenix to mind the shop while he was gone. Business was slow, so he called in all the WAA members to put their full range of skills to use. They seem to have managed to sell them all!

Gumshoe took Missile for a walk in the park. They stopped for a rest and Gumshoe fell asleep, so Missile slipped out of his collar and ran over to where the Samurai Dogs were being sold. He ate them all without Phoenix noticing. Phoenix handed things back over to Larry when he got back and Larry got in huge trouble for losing so much product.

"This survey is talking about how the cast spent their Valentines Day"

Trucy gave Polly chocolate for himself and some for Klavier and asked Apollo to give it to him for her. Klavier wasn’t in court when Apollo went to look for him, though, so he and Phoenix went to the prosecutors’ office together with their chocolate. On their way, though, Apollo found himself getting a lot of strange looks from Themis Legal Academy students.

Ema gave some chocolates to Phoenix to give to Edgeworth because she suddenly got called to a crime scene. Phoenix headed over to the prosecutors’ office but Edgeworth was in court and wasn’t there, so Phoenix waited out in front of the prosecutors’ office with this flashy, girly looking bag of chocolates. Edgeworth’s trial ended up going a long time and Phoenix got a lot of stares as he waited.

Edgeworth was hit by a pollen-filled spring breeze on his way back to the office and suddenly his eyes got all red and itchy and he was left sneezing and sniffling. Phoenix came to talk to him and got quite a surprise when he saw the state Edgeworth’s face was in. The chocolates Ema gave him were in the shape of the Steel Samurai and they made Edgeworth so pleased that it seemed to ease his suffering a little.

Flower Viewing:

Phoenix and Apollo go to the park early to hold flower viewing spots for the WAA members. They see some people from around town that they know who ask them to hold their spots while they go and grab this or that. Phoenix and Apollo do their best to hold those people’s spots and in the process lose their own. They end up begging Edgeworth to let them share his and Klavier’s spot.

White Day:

Because of his painful memories about Valentine’s Day from elementary school, he doesn’t like Valentine’s Day or White Day that much. As a return gift to his beloved daughter, he gave her painstakingly handmade magic panty shaped chocolates. Apparently he forced the ones that didn’t turn out on Edgeworth...

Klavier was holding a ladies only concert, which he invited Trucy to. Phoenix was worried about letting Trucy be out at night by herself, so he sent Apollo along in disguise (as a woman!!). But Klavier saw through Apollo’s disguise easily and to Apollo’s horror, called him up on stage.

Autumn/Moon Viewing:

Phoenix, Edgeworth and Larry went to collect chestnuts together. Larry was too focused on looking for chestnuts and not watching where he was going and fell down the mountain slope. Phoenix had tried to catch Larry but he ended up falling too and spraining his ankle slightly. Edgeworth had to carry Phoenix on his back down the mountain.

Apollo went moon viewing with the rest of the WAA. It turned out into kind of an office party and Apollo had drink after drink while assuring everyone that “I’m fine!” but ended up getting pretty hammered. He proceeded to pass out and Phoenix took care of him.

Obon Festival:

Klavier performed a bonfire festival dance version of the Guitar’s Serenade at the summer festival and Apollo provided the taiko drum backup. He filled the gaps in the taiko drumming with his chords of steel, and it was a very energetic bonfire dance.

Edgeworth noticed the festival going on on his way home from work and decided to have a look. He saw Phoenix selling Samurai Dogs and desperately wanted one, but couldn’t bear the thought of Phoenix finding out that he was a Steel Samurai fan. He hemmed and hawed in front of the festival stall, trying to decide whether to buy one, but they sold out before he could make up his mind.

Phoenix went to the festival with Maya. Larry, who was working the Samurai Dog stand, called them over and forced them to watch the stand while he made a booty call. Phoenix and Maya’s manzai comedy duo style vocal advertising was so successful that they quickly sold out.

Christmas:

Phoenix, Trucy, Athena, Apollo and Pearl all spent the night at the office after their party wrapped up. Phoenix put presents next to the kids' pillows during the night.

Edgeworth grumbled about having to play Santa but dressed up anyway and snuck in at night to bring the younger ones at Phoenix's office some presents. He accidentally ends up sneaking into Phoenix’s room instead.

Apollo wanted to be a good big brother to Trucy and Pearl, so he snuck into their rooms to leave gifts but tripped over something, let out a Chords of Steel volume shout as he fell and ruined the surprise/

Klavier, as a favor to Trucy, snuck in dressed as a Visual Kei style Santa, but he announced his arrival with a rock arrangement of Santa Claus is Coming to Town and got caught and kicked out.

Blackquill had to make a jailbreak in order to play Santa, was chased down and Phoenix woke to find the police surrounding his office.

DGS Edition

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #maya fey #mia fey #larry butz #simon blackquill #apollo justice #klavier gavin #kristoph gavin #dick gumshoe #manfred von karma #franziska von karma #trucy wright #athena cykes #taka #bobby fulbright #missile #ema skye #my translation #translations #official content

[iliveiloveiwrite]

I find myself travelling back to you // Simon Basset

Request: Could you possibly write a Simon Basset fic where maybe the reader is like a childhood friend and he bumps into them and they talk and catch up with maybe some romance or something - anon

A/N: My first Simon fic! I am a little uncertain of this as I am not sure whether I have Simon’s character down yet. I hope you all like! Thank you for requesting, I hope I have done it justice.

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, pining, mutual pining, fluff, some angst, she/her pronouns, female reader.

Word count: 3.8k

There was not a cloud in the sky as you made your way through Mayfair after having turned down a carriage. Instead, you chose to walk away the morning, happy to feel the warmth of the sun through the layers of your dress.

The streets had started out as quiet; a few souls here and there, but they soon grew busier and busier as routines were started. Dodging bodies here and there, you found it hard to be annoyed at the crowds – the weather too perfect for your mood to be sullied.

A flash of deep red amongst the crowd has your eyes and body on alert; the sound of a deep voice has your ears pricking. “Simon?” You call out, eyebrows furrowing as you spy a familiar head of hair making their way through the crowds.

“(Y/N)?” The man in question answers, eyes wide as he takes in your form.

“It’s been so long,” You whisper, staring into his brown eyes. “I suppose I should call you ‘Your Grace’ now. I was sorry to hear of the passing of your father,” You comment softly, not overly sorry for the death of the man who had mistreated his son so poorly but offering your condolences as a form of social etiquette.

Nodding his head, Simon smiles at you. “Thank you,” He gestures to the elderly lady on his arm, “I am sure you remember Lady Danbury.”

You smile widely at the elderly lady as she grins back at you. “Of course I do,” You laugh, “We meet at least once a week to have tea.”

If possible, Simon’s eyes grow wider to the point where Lady Danbury snorts. “Really now, Simon. Did you expect us ladies to go our separate ways when you left the country?”

“Of course not,” Simon drawls, amused by the elder. “I just didn’t realise you had a close relationship.”

“Well we do. That reminds me,” Lady Danbury pipes up, “I will not be able to make our tea appointment this week, dear (Y/N). My grandson, Gareth, is visiting.”

“Of course, Lady Danbury. We can always rearrange to the following week.”

“Nonsense,” She declares, slamming her cane onto the ground, “Simon will meet with you.”

Casting your gaze to the tall gentleman, it is not hard to miss to the surprise in his eyes. Shaking your head, you state, “I am sure the Duke has more pressing issues than tea with an old friend.”

Lady Danbury opens her mouth to protest your point but is beaten by the Duke. “I have nothing so pressing that cannot be rearranged. I shall meet you tomorrow, I assume Lady Danbury knows the spot.”

With a nod of your head, Simon smiles. He reaches out, grabbing your gloved hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Until tomorrow then,” He promises, stepping away from you with Lady Danbury in tow.

“Until tomorrow,” You whisper, watching the strong figure of your childhood friend walk away from you.

Glancing up at the still cloudless sky, you wonder how it is possible that the world keeps spinning when your own has changed so much. Simon left the country years ago, and even then, contact with the man was few and far between. He had left for school and seemingly left you behind. The very fact that he was happy to have tea with you sent shockwaves through your body; not a word for so many years and then this out of the blue.

Now glaring at the sky, you wonder whether there wasn’t a larger game afoot. One that had you reuniting with the childhood love that had left you a bereft teenager; it had you hoping you would not be left a heartbroken adult.

------

The pleasant weather was to continue, you thought to yourself as you sat down in the drawing room. Despite the calmness of the room; the sweet sound birdsong outside of your window, your stomach would not calm. Instead, it was threatening to make a mockery of your breakfast. A missive had arrived late yesterday evening from Lady Danbury explaining that Simon would indeed be calling on you for the promised tea.

Smoothing out your pale blue skirts, you wish desperately that you had brought something to keep you occupied as you wait for his imminent arrival. You curse the fact that you left your latest cross-stitch upstairs in your room, having worked on it late into the night. You could have used it to the pass the time to keep your mind busy.

“The Duke of Hastings,” The butler announces, startling you slightly, stepping aside for Simon to stride into the room.

Simon smiles widely as he spots you standing by the table; he rushes over to you, reaching for your hand, placing a lingering kiss to the back of it before straightening. “(Y/N),” He greets, breathless as if he had rushed all the way over here.

“Simon,” You answer, smiling just as widely.

Following his lead, you take a seat at the table, waiting for the tea service to be brought up.

“How is Lady Danbury?” You question, trying to fill the time for the service to arrive.

Simon laughs. “It seems she is on the warpath. Her grandson, Gareth, arrived this morning still out of sorts from the previous night.”

“No!” You gasp, “He’s barely of age!”

“That is what dear Lady Danbury was reminding poor Gareth as she swung her cane at him. I thought I better leave before her attention and her cane turned to me.”

“A good decision to have made.”

“Definitely,” Simon agrees, “As I was leaving, Gareth was promising his grandmother not to touch another drop of alcohol again though I doubt that promise will stick.”

“Poor Gareth,” You lament, thinking of the times you had been on receiving end of a lecture from Lady Danbury. “She does love him so though.”

“She does,” Simon states, “I remember his birth. It feels so long ago.”

You hum in agreement; wondering how quick time had flown by. Gareth was to be part of the next generation of society; he was to bring it into its future, especially if his grandmother had anything to say about it.

“How long have you been home?” You ask, pouring the both of you some tea now that it had arrived.

“I travelled to Clyvedon to settle things there before journeying down to London. I’ve been back in England just short of a month.”

“Oh,” You murmur, trying your best not to feel hurt that he hadn’t actively sought you out. After all, it had been years since you had last spoken. No correspondence had been exchanged throughout the duration of his travels; Lady Danbury had been the one to update you on where Simon was in the world. He hadn’t written you a single letter despite the long friendship that you still held dear. Instead, it had been an utter coincidence, a meeting in the streets that had proved to you he was still alive and breathing.

“I wanted to come see you,” Simon states, feeling bad about the broken sound that had left your mouth just now. He wasn’t one to talk so openly about his feelings, but he found himself needing to explain to you that he hadn’t stopped thinking of you since he stepped foot on English soil.

“Did you?” You question, sounding very much as if you did not believe a word leaving his mouth. By the unimpressed expression on your face, Simon knew you did not believe him.

“I did, but I got so busy. There were estates to manage, ledgers to balance and announcements to be made. By the time I landed in London, I was so thoroughly exhausted that I simply wandered to Lady Danbury’s home and fell asleep on her chaise-lounge. She wasn’t impressed.”

You snort before realising the impropriety, “I can imagine.”

Simon laughs entertained by the thought of Lady Danbury’s face when she found him snoring away on her chair. “As punishment, she made me accompany her on a walk… where we ran into you.”

“What a punishment,” You drawl.

Simon rolls his eyes at your tone. “I like to think of it as a happy coincidence.”

“Then I shall look at it in the same manner.”

There was something different about the man sitting across from you. Was it how he held his spoon? How he stirred his tea? Had the years abroad moulded him into a new person, one you could barely recognise?

Simon held himself entirely different to how he would when he was younger. His posture, perfect. His stance, brimming with confidence. It takes you aback somewhat as you take in the changes the years away at school and abroad have placed on his body.

Would your friendship still stand after so long apart? Is Simon simply placating Lady Danbury by having him meet you for tea? He talks such pretty words; can form sentences that leaves your mind in a spin, but this is the same man that had left the country without so much as a goodbye in your direction.

Reaching for your tea, you distract yourself from such intrusive thoughts. The tea clears your mind; letting you form a blank slate in your mind. “Enough talk of the past, no matter how recent,” You declare, “You left so long ago and came back a new person. It seems I need to get to know the new one.”

Simon smiles at you from his place across the table. “The same could be said for you too.”

You smile though it doesn’t reach your eyes. You don’t mention how you had spent the last few years turning down every marriage proposal offered to you due to your heart belonging to another even in its broken state. “Time is a marvellous thing,” You offer instead, grabbing a small cake from the stand.

“Indeed,” Simon murmurs, eyes following the cake from the plate to your mouth. Despite the time that had passed, his feelings had not changed. They had grown stronger instead. By now, Simon truly understood the meaning of absence making the heart grow fonder. All through his travels, he had cursed himself for not asking you to join him. Through every country, principality and dominion, Simon wondered how it would be for you to be there with him, experiencing the wonders of it all.

“Where was your favourite place to travel?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, “I’ve never travelled further than France.”

Simon nods, remembering your trip abroad with the same pang of sadness he felt back then. He knew logically that you were sat across from him, yet the longing in his body did nothing to help repress the urge to reach out for your hand across the table – to touch you so he would know that you were there, and this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“I think my favourite place to visit was Greece. I stayed on the mainland for a while before eventually making my way around the islands. Each island had its own charms, but there was one that had me questioning whether I could live there for the rest of my life. It was so calm, so quiet. Not even the thoughts in my head could distract me from its serenity.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The island?”

“The travelling.”

Simon sighs, staring out of the window as he thinks of over his answer. Eventually, he says, “I miss the sights and the people. I miss the smells and the food. However, I do not miss the time zones. There were moments where I didn’t know what time it was, let alone what day it was.”

“It sounds as if you had a magical time,” You sigh, trying your best not to think of Simon in the desperate heat of the Mediterranean.

“It had its moments,” Simon admits, thinking of the hours he had spent in markets, trying local delicacies and drinking traditionally made coffee. He had adored every second of his travels; he hadn’t minded the odd illness that came along with a new environment when there was so much to learn and so much to experience.

“Will you be travelling again soon?”

“It depends,” Simon answers.

“On?”

“On whether I find anything to keep me here.”

Silence falls over you both as you take in his words, trying to find the meaning of them. Taking a sip of your tea, you wonder whether your friendship with the Duke would be enough to keep him grounded at home for longer than a few weeks at a time. Your heart skips a beat at thought that you might not be enough; your feelings for the Duke had never surprised you. They had not surprised Lady Danbury when you showed up on her doorstep in floods of tears after Simon had left for the continent; she had simply welcomed you into her home with words of comfort and reassurances.

“Will you be attending Lady Danbury’s ball later this week?” You ask, needing to take your mind off that terrible evening.

Simon chuckles, placing his teacup on its saucer. “I shall be in attendance. I find it hard to turn down Lady Danbury. Will you be there?”

You nod, thinking of the dress you had made special. “I will. I’m quite excited if I’m to be honest.”

“Why is that?”

You shrug, “The theme, the music, the company. Lady Danbury never fails with her balls.”

“She does not,” Simon agrees, remembering the grandiosity of such events before he left to travel.

“So I shall see you there?” You ask, your voice hopeful as if daring to wonder whether Simon would attend before no doubt leaving the country once more.

“You shall. Would you save me a dance perhaps?” Simon asks, his usual mischief alight in his eyes.

You smile widely, “Always.”

--------

The rest of the week is spent in anticipation; desperate for the hours to quicken so you could walk through the home of Lady Danbury to find Simon already waiting for you. A hopeless dream, but a dream, nonetheless.

The Duke of Hastings remains on your mind for the rest of the week. One chance meeting and one organised tea and it seems that the man had made his home in your mind and brought to life the feelings you were certain were dormant.

With those feelings in mind, you prepare for Lady Danbury’s ball knowing full well you were about to spend the evening in the presence of Simon, but also watching the mothers of London’s available fawn over him as if he was a prize to be won. It was enough to make your blood boil.

Ridding yourself of such anger, you enter the home of Lady Danbury.

Lady Danbury never spared any expense when it came her to time to host the event of the season. She knew that it would be reported on, that it would be spoken about. She also knew that there was a chance that many matches could be made that night; so no expense could be spared in the battle for love matches among the ton.

The sight of the ballroom takes your breath away as you enter. Lady Danbury had chosen the theme of the moon, stars and sun – asking her guests to dress in colours relating to either. Your navy blue skirts swish together the further you walk into the room, distracted by the moon and star decorations hanging from the high vaulted ceilings.

You’re so enraptured by the scenery that you do not hear the footsteps approaching or the whispers of the women beside you. It isn’t until you hear him call your name that you turn your gaze from the silver decorations.

“Simon,” You greet with a smile, “How have you been?”

“Very well,” He replies, “And yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“You look wonderful,” Simon compliments; eyes raking up and down your body.

Your skin heats at his rapt attention; flashes of heat soaring through you as your mind begins to think of all sorts of scenarios where you could keep his eyes on you for much longer. “Thank you,” You answer, voice breathy, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” Simon asks, voice quiet in the loud room.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand and allow him to lead you onto the dancefloor where many other couples are gathering.

Simon’s hand is soft on the small of your back; soft but insistent as it brings you closer to his own body. Wrapped up entirely in him, you find it hard to concentrate on the steps of the dance, easily being led around the dancefloor by the man who had captured your heart before you had even known the meaning of the word.

A large smile spreads over his face as he spins you out and brings you back. A surprised laugh leaves your lips as Simon spins you once more; the delight settling deep within your bones, melding to become a memory that would always be with you. Simon’s own laughter soons join yours and before long, neither of you are paying much attention and custom – the both of you having far too much fun in each other’s arms to be aware of the looks and glances being sent your way.

As the music fades into silence, Simon’s grip on you loosens reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let go of you; doesn’t know when the next time he can hold you this close will be. If he could, he would steal you away right now, but etiquette and his title demands he be a gentleman.

With a strained smile, Simon bows at you once before turning away without a word. So deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t see you escape to the gardens before it is too late.

------

The gardens at Lady Danbury’s home had always been spectacular, but in the night, they were even more magnificent. Despite the shadows of night, you were not scared as you walked down the paths, fingers absently brushing over the flowers of delicately blooming flora.

Rather, your mind was occupied by the one man who had returned into your life after such a sizeable absence. Simon had danced with you tonight, and every aspect felt so perfect. The way his hand covered yours; the way his palm felt pressed against the small of your back. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you hide the smile on your face as you think of the way he had laughed with you as he spun you across the floor. He had looked so young; so carefree, as if he hadn’t the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I wondered where you had wandered off to,” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you.

“Simon!” You gasp, clutching your chest, “You scared me!”

He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender as he steps closer to you. “That was not my intention,” He promises, his smile wide.

“What was your intention then?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I wanted to ask you a question should you allow it.”

“We are alone,” You remind him, “We should move inside.”

“Please,” Simon pleads, “It won’t take long.”

You pause your steps. The cool night air settles around you as you wait for Simon to ask his question.

“Why did you never marry?” Simon demands; his eyes blazing with the need to know. “I know you had proposals; Lady Danbury even told me so.”

“There was never anyone good enough,” You confess, fisting your hands in the skirts of your dress to keep yourself from reaching out for him. “I tried. I really tried, but I always found myself thinking of you or wondering about you. Even though you never wrote, I still fell in love with you.”

Simon inhales sharply; not expecting your confession. You hadn’t expected to be so honest, but your heart was in control of your mouth; your mind taking a backseat on this one. Your heart had yearned after this man since you had learned the very definition of the word ‘love’.

“Why did you never write?” You ask, finally verbalising the question that had plagued your mind since the moment he had left.

He remains silent, so you repeat your question with a firmer voice. “Why did you never write, Simon?”

“If I had written to you, I would have come home.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“I needed to get away, I had to leave. To do that, I had to cut strings with you, or I never would have become the man I am today. I never would have become worthy of you.”

“It is for me to decide whether you are worthy of me, Simon Basset. I have found you worthy of my love since you were ten years old and getting caught hiding a fish in the footmen’s bed if you must know.”

“For that long?” He asks; his voice a mere hoarse gasp as he battles with this new information.

“For that long,” You affirm.

“I always found myself travelling back to you,” Simon admits, “I would be in the furthest corner of the world and my mind would question why you were never by my side. On my last trip, I found myself packing my belongings with you on my mind before I had even made the decision to return home. My father was part of it, I’ll admit. But you… you were the whole reason why I returned to London.”

“What does this mean?” You ask, confused and emotional over the night’s confessions.

“It means I no longer want to travel the world if you are not by my side. It means I want to court you and follow the traditions of society. I have two loves in my life: travel and you.”

“You love me?”

He nods, “I have since I was a teenager.”

“I love you too,” You respond honestly, seeing no reason to lie in a moment like this.

“So,” Simon sighs as your words settle over him like a balm over an open wound, “Shall we do this properly? Courting and the like.”

“I think I would. I think we could start right now,” You whisper, stepping closer to the man who you felt certain was the love of your life.

“Right now?”

You nod you head, smiling widely as you reach for the lapels of his jacket. “I think we could start this very moment with a kiss. What do you think?”

Simon glances from side to side, checking for witnesses, “Only if you promise not to kiss another.”

“I don’t think that would be an issue,” You admit happily, “Kiss me, Simon.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

*******

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley

#simon basset x reader #simon basset #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #simon x reader #bridgerton imagines #simon basset fanfiction #simon basset imagines #duke hastings x reader

[dancingamongstdust]

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 1)

Cellophane

Despite the U.A.’s insistence that the hero course wasn’t a spectacle for the rest of the world to watch, often when there was some free time, many students flocked to areas where the classes were training. They would lean against trees or pretend to be doing homework while watching the show of fire, explosions, and acid.

You were one of those observers. With a textbook in your lap, you sat beneath a tree with your friends, and watched 1A train their quirks.

The grass tickled at your legs and the sun warmed your skin. It was such a beautiful day despite the sounds of fighting. Occasionally a wash of warmth would flood over you as a large attack went off but you mostly ignored it.

“I think the green-haired one is the cutest,” one of the girls with you said. “He’s super sweet and clearly he’s really strong.”

“Have you seen the Todoroki boy though?” another responded. “Cute and brooding.”

You laughed, making a comment to more agree with the latter though you wouldn’t be interested in anybody as cold as that. Rumours floated around that he never spoke, not even to his own classmates. Many also believed his temper was as bad as his father’s given his massive attacks during the sports festival.

But you didn’t listen all too much to gossip about the hero course. Instead, you just enjoyed watching them in action and running away when their teacher spotted you all.

Luckily, today Eraserhead seemed preoccupied at the end of their class so most of the other students could hang around longer. While he was busy lecturing two of his students, the rest began making their way to the change rooms.

Almost instantly, everybody took advantage of being spared his glare and watched the heroes-in-training.

Some seemed uncomfortable with the rest of the school’s presence while others relished in it. You watched as the shortest of the group winked at every girl, he made eye contact with, including yourself and laughed as a girl from general studies attempted to confess to the most explosive hero of the class.

But it was a specific member who caught your eye and she waved excitedly when she saw you, hurrying over. “Hey!” she greeted. “Were you guys watching us train?”

You stood, brushing grass off your clothing, and smiling. “Yeah, we were. Couldn’t see much of you though, you were almost completely hidden.”

Mina sighed. “It’s so sad how these things happen. My acid doesn’t stand out too much amongst this group.”

You hadn’t known Mina for very long but your friendship was pretty strong. She had attached herself to you due to your talent with making her photos perfect (something of a challenge thanks to her skin tone often contrasting with everything).

Your other friends slipped away, clearly wanting better looks at whomever was being lectured. That kind of gossip went for a high price.

Somebody called for Mina and she gestured them over. “These are the best people in the hero course aside from yours truly,” she said. “Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero.” She gave them your name as well and you politely greeted them each.

“Your electricity is really impressive,” you told Kaminari. “Everybody talks about it when we’re watching the training.”

He smiled widely at that but Mina just groaned. “Of course, everybody notices the flashy quirk. Do you know how many people still think that my quirk is being pink?”

“It’s because they get distracted with bright lights and don’t notice the actual talent,” Sero told her playfully. “Don’t worry about it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s not true.”

He chuckled. “It so is.”

“I mean, I notice your quirk all the time,” you said. “And it doesn’t have any lights. You’re just extremely smooth while fighting so you draw the eye.”

He seemed doubtful about that, acting as though you were complimenting him just for the sake of it. “Sure, sure. But when Bakugou unleashes a couple explosions, I bet your attention moves directly to him.”

“It doesn’t. I can prove it also.”

“How so?”

You gestured to the tree. “I’m always sitting right here. Keep an eye out for me next time – you’ll see whose fighting I favour watching.”

Chargebolt

It was a good day for there to be a pipe burst just outside of school.

The sun was shining, there was almost no wind, and there weren’t any large assignments due for almost a week. Overall, everything surrounding the day made it perfect for some rest and relaxation.

Your friend group finally made it up to the crest of the hill and stared around at the beautiful landscape. The view was magnificent. Almost as awe-inspiring as the school that you now stood across from. Every person knew about the hero school U.A. and now you had seen it in person.

“Imagine what it must be like to train to be a hero,” you mused. “I’m sure I would absolutely despise every second of it.”

Everybody laughed, jokes spreading about how they would be too lazy for constant workouts or how their hero names would just be too embarrassing. One girl whose quirk allowed her to pop her eyeballs out made a joke about how her entire career would surround traumatizing children.

“Why hello,” a very high-pitched voice greeted.

You startled, looking down at the small boy. He had bright purple hair and a cocky smirk on his face that just screamed trouble.

Luckily for you, his attention was more focused on others.

“I’m guessing you ladies are here to admire the toughest heroes in the country, right?” he said. “Well, luckily for you, you’re looking at one of the best in the entire school.”

You snorted. “Are you even old enough to be walking around without your parent?”

“Nobody was asking you,” he retorted. “I was speaking to the absolute beauties before me.”

Yourself and two girls that he was ignoring took steps away. They seemed interested in fighting however while you just enjoyed the show. It wasn’t the first time that your group had been annoyed by pervs and you each had different ways of dealing with it.

While he was busy screaming in shock as two eyeballs fell from a girl’s skull, somebody approached you, looking rather embarrassed.

“I’m sorry about him,” the blond said. He kept a confident smile on but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s not well-versed in speaking to beautiful woman.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, willing to play along with somebody who made eye contact before staring at your boobs. Unlike his friend. “And I’m guessing that you’re much better at that?”

“Oh definitely,” he said, stretching. He wore his U.A. uniform still but carried little of the arrogance you had come to expect from the school.

“Well, show me your best line then,” you said, turning to face him properly.

He startled at that. For a second, he eyed you cautiously as though your response was some kind of prank. Then he cleared his throat and said, “You owe me a drink.”

You smiled at the cheesiness. “And why is that?”

“Because you spilled it – wait, no, because you’re so beautiful that you made me spill it.”

You brought your hand to your mouth, laughing at the world’s most common pickup line that still managed to fail somehow. “Points for trying,” you said. “Though, I’ll give you a hint. When you go and hit on your next target, you can start with your name. Makes you seem a little less forward.”

He blushed at that but pointed to himself regardless. “I’m Denki Kaminari,” he introduced himself.

You offered your name. “And you’re a U.A. student?”

“Yeah, I’m in the hero course.”

“Oh that’s why you look so familiar,” you said. “I’ve seen you in the news before. You’re the electricity guy, right?”

He clicked his fingers and a spark jumped between them. Unfortunately, you were standing close enough that it then moved to you. It wasn’t powerful enough to hurt but you still jumped at the unexpected jolt.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

“No problem,” you replied with a smile. “It was nice meeting you Kaminari. I’m going to go and save your friend from being beaten up though. See you around!”

Creati

The rain was pouring down outside, whipping the trees around. It seemed to be desperate to reach where you stood beneath a roof outcropping. A few splashes landed on your shoes and you shuffled back further still.

Just one short run.

Holding your bag against your chest, you lowered your head and ran for it. The ground was slippery beneath your feet but you managed to keep your balance pretty well. At least, you did until somebody collided with you. Given how everybody was holding their heads down, it was inevitable.

You went down with a squelch into the mud, a sharp pain shooting through both knees and one arm. There was a yelp as the other person fell also.

Rain pounded on your heads. You glanced up to find another student sitting on her ass. She had been carrying her bag on her chest also which had saved it from the mud.

Your own was less lucky.

Cursing under your breath, you dragged yourself to your feet and held out a hand to her. You had to use your weaker one because it was the only part of you that wasn’t covered in mud.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised.

“No, I am,” she said. “That was entirely my fault! I wasn’t looking where I was going and –“

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky and you both froze. Thinking at the same time, you put your apologies on hold to rush to the closest shelter, thankfully the entrance of the school that you were both heading into either way.

You looked down at your ruined uniform and groaned. It was going to be really difficult to clean and certainly wouldn’t be alright before class.

The girl was mud-splattered also. Flecks covered her face and the back of her high pony was dripping with the stuff.

“We’re making an awful mess…” you said, looking down at the floor.

Other students rushed past you guys, a few giving you curious looks.

“We can get slightly cleaned up in the bathroom,” she urged. “Come on.”

You followed her into the nearest bathroom and quickly went to work dropping your ruined bag in the corner and cleaning off your arms and legs. “I really am sorry,” you said when she let her hair down. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

She shook her head. “No, that really was my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“We’re both going to get into trouble with uniforms now though,” you said. “That’s not great. I was really hoping to fly under the radar today… what are you doing?”

She had lifted up the bottom of her shirt and her skin seemed to be glowing brightly. After a second, a perfectly folded skirt emerged. She took it and placed it in front of her before turning to you, “What size do you wear?”

“What?”

“I’ll make you some replacements quickly if you let me know what size you are.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You can do that?”

She nodded. “I’m going to make you another bag also so you can start taking all your stuff out.”

You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “I really appreciate this but you don’t have to –“

“It doesn’t cost me anything,” she said with a smile.

Soon, you left the bathroom with a new uniform and bag. The only signs that you had even slipped was the occasional bit of mud that you had missed. She followed you out and the two of you soon came to a split in the corridors.

You reached out and rubbed some mud from her arm. “I should have known you were hero course,” you joked. “Thanks for everything and I really am sorry for running into you. Perhaps you can tell me your name? That way I can brag when you’re a famous hero one day.”

She blushed but held out her hand. “I’m Momo Yaoyorozu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Deku

It all began in the early hours of the morning when the sun had just made its way over the horizon. Having arrived sooner than anticipated, you were standing outside with your friends and talking about various aspects of life. A topic that, inevitably, brought up quirks.

Everybody began messing around with their own. Some levitated their bags while others changed their hair colour – simple things that weren’t all too impressive but remained entertaining.

You played around with your own a little, relishing in the freedom that came with using it.

Something that always irritated you was the inability to use your quirk in public settings. Especially when it was something benign. For this reason, you adored your school more than most other locations. U.A. inspired a sense of relief due to its casual acceptance of pretty much anybody. No matter their size, quirk, or appearance.

By the time you had finished your conversation, you all had begun heading into the main building. You reached into your pocket to quickly realise that your phone was missing.

“See you guys in class,” you said to your friends, darting out to grab it again.

You exited the main door, scanning the area when somebody tapped your arm.

“Sorry, you left this outside.”

“Oh!” you said, taking your phone. “Thank you! I was just coming to look for this.”

The person who had helped you offered a cheery smile. He was recognisable in the way that all hero-course students were. They carried their personalities in their walks. Yet, his name completely escaped you.

“No problem,” he said. “I was really hoping I could find you instead of turning it in.”

The two of you walked back into the building alongside one another. “At least at a hero school, I don’t have to worry about it going missing,” you joked. “I feel like I should know your name but it’s just slipping from my mind, sorry.”

“Izuku Midoriya,” he said. “Why should you know my name?”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t know that 1A are basically local celebrities.”

He blushed at that, coughing as he scrambled to regain his composure. “I don’t… well, I don’t know about being famous or anything. We’re just regular students, really.”

“Except you’re attacked by villains constantly.”

“Except for that, yes.”

You laughed, drawing unneeded attention from other students in the hall. They were all staring and trying to figure out if they could spread any kind of gossip about this interaction. The local soap opera that was class 1A had many students involved in the happenings of others’ lives.

“So, I noticed you were using your quirk earlier,” Midoriya said, bringing your attention back to him. His hair helped him to stand out with its fluffy, green nature but his voice remained soft. “Do you have any pro-heroes in your family?”

“One of my aunts,” you said. “She inspired me to come to U.A. in the first place.”

He surprised you by immediately saying her hero name. When you didn’t initially respond, he gave you a quizzical look.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Your quirks are similar but not enough for immediate family,” he said. “Do you have the same limitations with your own? I know she has a weakness with it that many villains like to exploit which could be the reason why she’s never risen higher in the rankings… not that she isn’t a great hero, of course, but it’s a well-known flaw in her quirk.”

You chuckled at that. “I mean, well-known for a very small level hero,” you said. “The types of villains that she deals with hardly have the brain cells to remember their own names.”

“It doesn’t make her work any less important.”

You smiled at that, appreciative of the notion. “I don’t actually know much about her quirk,” you admitted. “My own is pretty lack-luster. I can experiment with it and let you know what I find out, if you really want to know.”

“Yeah! That would be great! I could – oh, wait, no that’s probably an odd thing to say…” he trailed off, looking lost in thought. “Well, just let me know?”

“Of course,” you said. “Bye! Have a great day.”

Your own classroom felt surprisingly uninteresting without him there. You looked around at all the familiar faces and smiled. It wasn’t like you wouldn’t see him again.

Dynamight

“What are you, a coward?”

You glanced up from your phone, the challenge lighting a spark in your eyes. “No,” you said. “I just don’t take bets that I know I’m going to lose.”

Sighing dramatically, your friend slumped back in her chair and toyed with the food in front of her. She huffed a stray strand of hair from her face. “You used to be fun,” she groaned. “What happened to the person who would take any dare, no matter how high the odds?”

“I just don’t see the point in wagering my daifuku, one of my favourite snacks by the way, on something pointless.”

“It’s not like you have to land a date, just talk to him for like a minimum of a minute.”

You glanced down at your dessert and contemplated her offer. The cafeteria was busy, as always, and you could hear almost four conversations going on at once. Most were unrelated to schoolwork but quite a few mentioned the infamous class 1A who were sitting on the opposite side of the room.

From where you were, you could make out a few of the more recognisable members, including the reason that everybody was discussing the class right now.

“I feel like you’re setting me up for failure,” you said. “He’s clearly in a bad mood already.”

“When is he not?”

Groaning, you stood up from the table and stretched a little. “If I come back uninjured, you have to double the payment, alright?”

Perhaps you had too much of a reputation already – or maybe people were just shameless eavesdroppers – but several perked up as you made your way toward the hero course’s regular tables. They were all prepared for some kind of show, be it from you or from the subject of your attention.

Class 1A’s personal explosive, Katsuki Bakugo had made a scene not too long ago, prompting the very dare that had you making you way over there.

His table hosted five people and you chose the pink girl’s seat to lean over once you arrived.

“Sorry to interrupt,” you greeted with a smile though your eyes held Bakugo’s.

He was agitated, that much was obvious, but you weren’t sure if it was the normal level or not. Your appearance definitely wasn’t a positive though.

“Who are you?” he snapped.

“An admirer,” you responded, allowing your attention to now rove over the other confused students. “Not just of you but of the entire hero course. I always wanted to apply but never quite got the marks so I was curious what its like. And you seem to be, by far, the most approachable of the lot.”

The girl you were standing beside snorted with laughter. “Good one,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Mina.”

You introduced yourself with a smile, keeping the majority of your attention on Bakugo. “I do know most of your names,” you said. “Though that’s not saying too much. You’re all over the school and the news most weeks.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” she complained. “Do you want to sit with us?”

“I would love to,” you said, gladly taking a seat beside her and flashing Bakugo a bright smile. “Has anybody told you that your hair is adorable? Like it suits your whole aesthetic so well.”

“Fuck off.”

One of the other boys chuckled a little awkwardly but still responded with a shark-toothed grin. “Sorry, Bakugo doesn’t like compliments too much.”

“I don’t like them when they’re so clearly fake,” he scoffed, eyeing you up. “I know you morons struggle to understand but people don’t just come over to make friends. This is a dare of some kind, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t make friends while winning some extra dessert,” you said.

“People dare each other to come say hi to us?” the blond electricity guy asked. He had a charger hanging from his mouth.

“Not all of you.”

Bakugo scoffed, standing up from his chair sharply. “Hope you lose,” he said, storming away from the table and disappearing into the crowd.

Earphone Jack

The words ‘joint class’ had seemed fun when it was first mentioned. It wasn’t often that you interacted with students outside of your course and many had presumed that it would be a simple way to split Present Mic’s focus between more people.

Unfortunately, you should have all seen the group project part coming.

“Working in the pro-hero industry will often have you alongside complete strangers,” it had been explained. “Whether on the battlefield or behind the scenes, you’re going to have some great times meeting new people and learning about your own limitations. I’ve chosen who I think you’ll get along with but I could be very wrong. We’ll have to see.”

You all groaned, already anticipating the lengthy assignment that would be coming up. It probably wouldn’t be as bad for the hero course students.

For the pairs, it was pretty expected. Nobody from the same course was working together and the majority of the pairs stuck to the same gender.

You understood why when you heard the small purple one start complaining about it being discriminatory or something.

Present Mic stood in front of your desk before you even knew it, a grin on his face.

Often, you thought that you were one of his favourites. You focused on his class and always actively engaged. Sometimes you would even see him outside of class and he would give you a great wave.

You really hoped that those kind sentiments carried over.

“You’re going to be working with Kyoka Jiro,” he announced. Then, leaning forward, he added, “The one with the purple hair and the audio jacks on her ears.”

Thankful that he hadn’t left you floundering, you stood up and took a deep breath. Going over and speaking to a new person shouldn’t be that hard but you really didn’t want to… still, it wasn’t optional.

“Hi,” you said when she looked up at your approach. “I believe we’re in a team. You’re Jiro, right?”

She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly but still smiled. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You sat down in the chair in front of her desk – vacant thanks to its occupant speaking to their own group member. “Present Mic said that he paired us up with people he thinks we’d get along with. Aside from my adoration of your hair, what else do we have in common?”

She reached up and touched her hair, laughing a little awkwardly. “Thank you. Maybe we both listen to the same music?”

“That could be it, what kind of things do you listen to?”

Jiro opened up at that question, immediately launching into a detailed conversation about her favourite and least favourite genres. You had heard of some of the bands that she mentioned but most were a little too obscure.

Then, you made a connection.

“Wait, your dad isn’t Kyotoku Jiro, is he?” you asked. “I used to listen to some of his old songs all the time.”

Jiro’s eyes lit up. “Really? He’s not extremely well-known so most people don’t know he even has songs but I’m super proud of my dad’s music. How did you find out about him?”

You were going to answer when Present Mic cleared his throat and you all turned your attention back to him.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” you whispered to Jiro.

The group project was actually far simpler than you had anticipated and probably could be done in the dedicated time you were provided with. Unfortunately, it seemed that Jiro and you were abysmally slow workers when together and so, you just had to spend more time together outside of class.

Even after it was handed in.

Froppy

Generally, you found that if you visited the pools just before lunch, there would be absolutely nobody there. It would be the perfect time to get some swimming done without worrying about interrupting anybody or feeling bad because you weren’t as fast as some of the hero course students.

You didn’t go every day but, when you had some spare time, you happily made your way to the pool.

About twenty minutes into your swimming though, you popped your head up to head up to hear somebody in the changing rooms. You knew that you shouldn’t get nervous. The pool was for everybody in the school and it was more than large enough that you could avoid social situations.

But still, your stomach churned.

You continued swimming, though now you were keeping your head up to watch for whoever came through the door. After what felt like forever, a small girl emerged with dark green hair.

She smiled when she saw you had noticed her and gave a friendly wave. “Hello.”

“Hi,” was your eloquent response.

She got in on the other side of the pool and you continued swimming your laps. For a while, you waited for her to start so that you could see how fast she swam but she just sat in the water with her eyes closed and her face turned to the sun.

You pulled yourself out of the pool to sit on the side, taking a brief break in your exercise. There was no need to be in pain tomorrow.

She opened her eyes and smiled at you. “You swim really well.”

“Oh,” you said, a blush igniting behind your cheeks. “Thank you. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

Her voice was croaky but not in an awkward way. You actually really enjoyed the sound of it – enough that you willingly engaged in the conversation in order to hear her speak.

“Are you sunbathing?” you asked.

“Soaking,” she responded. “My skin is more amphibian-like so I really need to keep it hydrated. I’m Tsu, by the way.”

You smiled and told her your name. She repeated it and you quickly found out that you really liked the way she said it. “Which course are you in?” you asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“I’m in the hero course,” she said. “It’s fun but it gets quite dangerous from time to time.”

“I would guess so… hopefully nothing too bad though.”

She shrugged. “I’ve nearly died once because a villain with a disintegration quirk tried to grab my face. That was terrifying.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

“Thankfully our teacher can take quirks away if he looks at you,” she said. “And then All Might arrived so everything ended well. I’m lucky that my quirk doesn’t hurt me or anything because lots of my other classmates have those kinds of issues. It’s just a little inconvenient to have to lounge in the pool every now and then.”

“I would pay good money to have that kind of quirk,” you said with a sigh. “I would use it to get here during super boring classes.”

“That’s what I’m doing right now.”

You both laughed.

“I only managed to get here early due to being given some time to do an assignment. Because I got it done last night, I’m just relaxing a little before lunch,” you explained. You checked the time on the large clock. “Actually, it looks like I may need to go and get changed.”

Time had slipped by faster than you realised and you quickly changed back into your school uniform after giving Tsu a wave. You were actually a little disappointed to think that you had to go back to class instead of swimming.

But you weren’t expecting to see Tsu standing outside when you exited, already changed into her uniform.

“I thought you may want to sit with me and my friends today,” she offered. “They’ve got pretty cool quirks and experiences in the hero course.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? I can already tell that we’re going to be good friends so we may as well start now.”

You chuckled, covering your mouth to hide your slight blush. “Alright then. I’d love to.”

Ingenium

U.A. was a massive building with many corridors and even more classrooms. You had waited outside for half an hour before giving up and heading in by yourself. It hadn’t seemed like too bad of an idea at the time.

Perhaps you should have waited for your guide a little longer.

You walked the first and second floors twice, constantly looking for anybody who you recognised. The day before, you had been introduced to your class and the elected class president who promised to show you around. Except now you were wondering the corridors alone and hoping that you got to your main room on time.

When it didn’t look like that was going to happen though, you had to bite the bullet and ask somebody for help. Something you had been hoping to avoid.

Many students surrounding you looked extremely intimidating. They were all in their own groups and it would be extremely uncomfortable to approach anybody. So you chose the sweetest-looking girl that you could and made your way to her.

“Hi,” you greeted. “I’m so sorry to bother you but could you possibly tell me how to get to my class. I just transferred over and I’m completely lost.”

She was adorable with bright eyes and rosy cheeks. A massive smile appeared on her face. “Of course!” she said. “Where do you need to go?”

The other members of her small group were looking at you but none seemed too unfriendly so you relaxed a little. “I’m in 1G, the support department? My class president was meant to help me around but she just never showed up.”

At that, the tallest of the group – a guy with glasses and an extremely fancy look to his face – said, “That is unacceptable. They just left you waiting?”

You startled at the question and stared up at him. “Uh… yeah? It isn’t too bad –“

“It’s ridiculous for your class president to leave you standing alone! Their very job is to ensure that every member of the class is comfortable and knowledgeable about various aspects of the school. As class 1A’s president, I shall take you to your homeroom and discuss this with whoever is failing in their duties.”

You blinked, trying desperately to keep up with him. “If it’s not interrupting anything, then I’d definitely appreciate a guide.”

“Of course,” he said. “Follow me, I’ll take you directly there.”

You bid goodbye to the adorable girl and hurried to catch up with the guy who was practically marching his way down the hall. From behind, you could see that large pipes came from his calves. You wondered how his quirk worked.

“Thank you for this,” you said, speed walking to keep up. You gave him your name and asked for his own.

“I’m Tenya Iida,” he introduced himself. “And I’m sorry that you have been let down by your class.”

“I’m sure they were just busy.”

“Did they say that they would help show you around?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then they should have kept that in mind while planning the rest of their engagements,” he said. “There’s no excuse to cancel plans without even notifying the other person. You could have gotten in trouble for arriving to class late or not being able to show up at all.”

That was something you had been worried about. It was never a great way to start at a new school and you would have undoubtedly broken some record for getting a detention.

“Thank you for helping,” you said. “I really appreciate it. Are you in the hero course or something?”

He pushed his glasses up and nodded proudly. “I am indeed. Though I would have given you assistance without my hero training because it’s simply the right thing to do.”

Once around the next corner, he stopped so suddenly that you nearly walked into his back. “This is your classroom.”

A large ‘G’ covered a massive door. Relief washed over you and you opened your mouth to thank him but he was marching into the classroom, heading directly for your class president.

Lemillion

In all honesty, your stress was climbing to new heights. With a test looming and work taking a great deal out of you, it was like walking through tar to try and get things done. Plus there was the ever-present threat of forgetting something and causing trouble for everybody around you.

So you made your way to the library most days and found a comfortable chair to sit in. Once there, you would page through whatever book was needed and work to get as much done as possible.

It was a boring routine but it needed to be done.

Most of the people around you were ignorable, though you didn’t mean it in a cruel way. It was just that you didn’t have enough brain power to focus on them at the moment.

But eventually, you had to take a break when your mind was swimming from studies. You closed the book and took a deep breath.

“Alright, so I’m going to pop in just after she starts class, right? I’ll come through the whiteboard so she doesn’t see me at first, then I’ll hold up the egg and say ‘Wow, this class is really egg-sausting’.”

“Won’t Miss Midnight take offense to that?”

“It’s about her quirk though, not her class.”

“But what if she takes it the wrong way?”

You laughed as softly as you dared, a small snort escaping before you caught it. The group that were speaking sat at the table next to your own. They were a group of three although the one guy wasn’t really involved in the conversation – rather, a blue haired girl discussed the blond guy’s planned jokes.

“I think Midnight has a good sense of humour,” the guy was reasoning. “She’ll laugh at it. Most of the teachers understand my jokes.”

“Don’t you remember when you told Ectoplasm that he was a freak in the sheets?”

That one got a proper chuckle out of you but you managed to keep it quiet enough that they didn’t notice your eavesdropping. Their discussion was certainly lightening the mood.

The guy blushed bright red. “I didn’t think of the other ways that could have been taken,” he admitted. “I was just speaking about those ghost costumes that everybody wears during Halloween, you know… Probably should have just made the boo-berry pie joke and left it there.”

You decided against taking a sip of water, focusing on trying not to laugh at the awful puns you were hearing. Maybe the guy’s quirk was related to telling bad jokes or something.

Or maybe he just had the best worse sense of humour.

They continued speaking for some time and you found yourself giggling at almost every joke that was made. It was hard to concentrate on your work anymore but you surprisingly still got some done and enjoyed every second of it.

You were actually rather disappointed when the group stood up to leave. Two of them headed out of the main door but the blond didn’t follow. You considered glancing around to find him but decided you didn’t want to seem creepy.

And then his face appeared in the middle of your homework.

You yelped in fright and stumbled backwards, nearly falling out of your chair. The guy was half-melded with the table but he laughed and you couldn’t help but smile. His excitement was contagious.

“Hello,” he greeted, standing up and no longer phasing through any solid items. “I’m Mirio. I just wanted to say hi before we left.”

“Oh,” you said. “Um… hi.” You gave him your name and blushed, realising that your eavesdropping hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. Still, he didn’t seem to mind it so you didn’t worry too much.

“I’ll see you around,” he said as he left, waving enthusiastically the entire time.

Phantom Thief

Most days, you relished in the opportunities to speak to new heroes about support items and what they needed to better their quirks. You enjoyed discussing with them and learning about their abilities, and you knew that many in your class had similar sentiments.

After all, that was the very reason that you were studying.

These reason were why you remained confused when your classmates were busy drawing straws when you walked in. None of them bothered to even tell you what was happening, just gesturing for you to take your straw.

You grabbed the closest one in confusion and pulled it out, revealing that luck wasn’t on your side that day.

“Congratulations,” one of the girls said. “You get to talk to Monoma. All the rest of us will be able to choose whoever we want within class 1B once they arrive.”

That was when you realised.

You hadn’t ever had the opportunity to work with the loudest member of the class before and you didn’t envy many that had. The stories they shared about hinted at a mild insanity or, at the very least, obnoxiousness that went unmatched. You definitely weren’t looking forward to that for a good part of your day.

But alas, when 1B entered the room to discuss their options for support items, you made your way over to the blond and gave him your best smile. “Would you mind if I asked you about some support items that you may need?”

His grin was massive as he turned to you. “Ah, I see you’re extremely excited for the opportunity to work with such an amazing quirk, right?”

You smiled. “Of course.”

That clearly wasn’t the answer he anticipated and he faltered a little at it. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble but I don’t think there’s anything here that would suit me. My quirk works brilliantly on its own.”

“I wouldn’t say its your quirk that does it all,” you said. “Obviously it requires a talented wielder in order to use it properly.”

His eyes narrowed at the compliment and he began looking over your shoulders, clearly thinking that this was a setup of some kind. After making sure nobody was watching, he very carefully said, “I suppose you’re right. Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t need any support items right now.”

“I get that but, if you ever need something in the future, just let me know,” you said. “In the meantime, I can brainstorm some general stuff based off your quirk. You can copy things, right?”

“Obviously,” he chuckled.

You nodded and began walking away, happy that your unorthodox plan had worked in mellowing him out. It was a guess that he wouldn’t be used to praise but it worked like an absolute charm.

“Wait!” he said, suddenly appearing next to you. “How am I meant to tell you my ideas if I don’t even know your name?”

You chuckled nervously, not having expected him to care about that part of your conversation. Before you had even thought about it though, you told him your name and he smiled even wider at that, if it was even possible.

“I’ve been looking for somebody who understands how good of a quirk I have,” he said, throwing an arm over your shoulders unexpectedly. “And you seem to like it quite a bit.”

“Well, yes,” you said. “It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

He stepped in front of you then and you watched as your own quirk manifested itself. “I like yours also,” he said. “It suits you.” For a split second, he smiled warmly.

You smiled at that, unable to help it as his expression became considerably more normal while he was using it. “Thank you. It’s not entirely impressive when you look at all the hero course’s quirks but I like it well enough.”

The quirk disappeared and his over-the-top smile reappeared. “Obviously it isn’t as good as mine,” he scoffed. “But don’t beat yourself up about that. Almost nobody can top me.”

For a second, the change confused you but then the class 1B president made her presence behind you known. She apologised and lectured Monoma on showing off instead of focusing but you didn’t entirely hear her. Your curiosity surrounding the blond had been piqued. How much of that arrogance was just a show for his class?

#my hero academia #bnha #sero hanta x reader #kaminari x reader #momo yaoyozoru #bakugou x reader #deku x reader #froppy #tsu x reader #monoma x reader #mirio x reader #iida x y/n #bnha scenarios

[elius-learns-to-write]

Have You Been Drinking?

 Hi twonk (love you really) <3 Thanks for the request even though it took a dark turn oops <3 If you don’t like drinking then don’t read this!

Summary: You got a little bit tipsy at a party and pay the price when 

You had always been a bit defiant 

It hadn’t started out as much: Staying up late, stealing leftovers and then it went to going out for hours without texting anyone 

You always said you forgot (which most of the time you did)

5 Missed calls. 12 Texts and Happy literally tracking you down and taking you back to the tower. This is what you got back to after your, how long had it been ? Seven hours?! No it couldn't have been that long, last time you checked you were 87% sure that it had been lunch time, the sun had been shining and you even got talking to this sweet old lady who was interested in birds. So how did it end up being seven hours later in the tower with a very very angry Tony and Steve as the others just listened in not so subtly at the door? “This is the 4th time you have done this this week and still you use the ‘my phone died’ excuse, what am I meant to do with you” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his other hand waved animatedly around in front of him “you aren’t meant to do anything, I lost track of time I promise! It’s not like I do this on purpose” you tried to reason, tears starting to threaten to spill, why couldn't they just understand that you hadn’t meant to be out late and that it was an accident “nope that’s not the right answer kiddo better luck next time” Tony said a hint of frustration seeping through his usual sarcastic demeanor. With that the men left, closing the door to your room behind them.

But there are only so many times a kid can hear ‘you’re wrong and I’m not listening’ from family who mean well but don’t exactly have the best way of showing it before they burst

If they wanted you to play the part of rebellious but strong and powerful soldier then that was exactly what you would do

So you started to go out with MJ and Peter to the occasional party they got invited to 

Then it felt like you were 3rd wheeling so you decided to just go by yourself

You started to swear more 

Put your feet on desks in boots/shoes you knew would make a mark

And that was when the concern started to shine through more than the anger

“Look we are just trying to help you sweetie” Wanda said as she stirred the sauce and the pasta together in preparation for dinner, looking back as you leant back in the chair the black from your hoodie a stark contrast to the white of the marble table. “Well don’t I’m fine I promise, just leave it alone alright I have already heard this 10 times from Sam and Bucky today” you mumbled eyes searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t her face as that was something you did when you were uncomfortable however she mistook that for you rolling your eyes and just muttered something about disrespect as you got up and walked off.

“So Wanda told me you rolled your eyes at her today” the comment sounded so nonchalant rolling off the metal armed mans lips that if you weren’t paying attention you would have missed the fact it was about something negative. “I didn’t but I know you won’t believe me so I’m not going to argue” you replied, the bag splitting slightly from the sudden increase of force in your punches. “I am not saying I don’t believe you! I am just saying that if you did you need to cut that out right now before you do it to the wrong person” he defended. This was ridiculous! Grabbing your towel from the side of the room before you started to walk out “I DIDN’T DO IT!” you called back over your shoulder, only just capturing the look of disappointment on Bucky’s face. If you would have looked harder you would have seen the look of concern that followed but it was too late and the glass door had already slammed behind you.

It was always the same you defending yourself and no one believing you 

You were just an angry teen after all

An angry, misunderstood and hurting teen

There was one person still on your side, Loki

But he wasn’t around much

But as if by magic that came in green swirls and bitter earl gray tea 

He was there that night

The world seemed to sway below you, the constant spinning a reminder of the alcohol you had consumed earlier that night. You didn’t care, in fact you didn’t care about anything right now. The light buzz and soon to be hangover keep you from anh logical thoughts and feelings. Which is probably why you ended up bumping into the table right down the hall from your room and knocking over the horrific looking lamp that Wanda had decorated with seashells (not that it made it look much better). “Who’s there?” you heard from behind you, too drunk to really reply to Nat you made a sort of grumbling noise and carried on walking to your room “Y/n? Is that you? Have you been drinking?” Bruce had joined the quest to find out who the mystery intruder was and even in your drunken lamp destroying zombie gurgling state you knew it was best to just sit down on the floor and wait until the whole team joined in. And soon enough they had a circle of people now surrounding you as you just sat and looked at the ceiling dreaming of being anywhere but here. “What in the nine realms is going on here?!” you heard Loki’s voice say, everything sounded as if you were underwater or in a bubble, you just wanted to sleep. A few minutes later you heard Loki start to argue, ranting and raving about something it was too dark to see what his face looked like but you could imagine the emerald green robe and matching checkered  trousers he would be wearing as his face contorted in shapes filled with rage and hurt. You couldn’t quite make out all of what he was saying but you did manage to catch a few bits “they are a child and it is your duty to protect them…. They don’t need lectures or discipline… just listen to them and pull yourself together” it was that or he was very passionate about chickens.

And so that’s what happened 

Sorrys were said,bonds and trust was rebuilt 

And everyone had a picture of Loki looking ridiculous in his dressing gown 

Let’s just say the hangover you had the next day put you off of drink for a while

#the avengers #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #tony x reader #tony x teen!reader #tony x platonic!reader #tony stark imagine #steve x teen!reader #steve rodgers #steve imagine #steve rodgers imagine #wanda x teen!reader #wanda x reader #wanda imagine #bucky x teen!reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #loki x teen!reader #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #bruce banner x teen!reader #nat x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader

[animefreak1145]

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

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Chapter 3| How Little We Know of What There is To Know

Chapter Summary:

Pretending and being numb is the key.

Yet Adler always manages to bring some emotion out of you.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

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

A/N: Where pineapple is the nectar of the gods and scars are lightning.

“Bell”

Second Life

23:09 | February 25, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You rubbed your dry eyes as you stared at your notes all over the desk you’ve chosen as your little corner, the large bulky computer taking up space but you’ve made do by moving the brick that is the keyboard as much as you could off to the side. Your papers held inks of different colors—although they were only red, blue, and black and yellow highlights—and you had a stack of folders behind the computer that were from the CIA and MI6 archives. You had Kraus’ ledger off to your side, headphones on top of it for you to hear the audio of U.S. cities and numbers. Your fourth mug of coffee of the day was already gone and you would grab another just to enjoy the warm liquid to go down your throat instead of the caffeine itself, you were always one of late night’s either way.

The safehouse was quiet outside the hum of the generator and the lights above. Most of the crew gone. Outside of your absent tapping of a pen against your messy notes and the white of a nearby fan for extra circulation, the main open area of the safehouse was a desert.

If you focused deeply, you can hear mumbles and murmurs that you can’t make out coming from the office. Adler has been in there for awhile talking over the phone. To who, you don’t know but you have your suspicions. You just hope the subject is not about you being suspicious—the talk on the roof was a slight on your part earlier.

You truly don’t know what came over you. But you need to watch your mouth and expressions. Adler is perceptive, deadly and ever watchful of a person’s micro expressions and body language.

You can’t mess up.

A shot rings. And a heart splinters.

“It was never personal.”

You really can’t.

Which is why, you have been focused solely on decoding the entire day. Your eyes scanning and assessing the acquired Intel from the Volkov mission for Operation Chaos and Operation Red Circus. You have the knowledge on how to solve them but you are lacking needed Intel to help finish Operation Red Circus.

Operation Chaos was tricky. With two pieces of evidence outside of the newspaper, it being the audio log and the paper that had the coded message. Earlier in the morning, you wrote down all the possible numbers the missing parts of the code be—trying to find the pattern in the set of red and blue numbers. You were writing down the possibilities, your paper looking chaotic with arrows and numbers and cities that could coincide with said numbers.

After the quick checkup of your head with Adler, all firm and gentle touches with you keeping your eyes to the side or down as he fulfilled why he got the alias Doc—treatments of gun wounds and cuts to bayonets, complete trust he’ll take care of you as he would lecture or tighten a bandage a tad too tight in reprimand due to a reckless action—and kept quiet as he did so outside of a soft yes or no when he asked  about the pain, you moved to go to work. Ignoring the feel of his gaze on you as you did so. Park coming to your desk after you moved your stuff from the center table to your chosen corner to begin, papers already everywhere and scattered as you tried to organize it in a manner you could only understand, a mug close to her mouth and a cocked brow at the mess.

“There’s a way to keep it a bit more clean and less like a junk pile,” the British woman said, amused as you made a distracted sound, squinting at the coded language in your hand as papers rustled. “And when I gave you my advice, I didn’t think you would take it so seriously. There’s a better desk you could’ve chosen as your own, Bell.”

You blinked, giving Park a confused look.

“Advice?”

Park making an obvious glance to the center table in front of the evidence board, you automatically following it. Only to turn back to your paper once you noticed Adler’s form by the table, cigarette in his hand as he stared down at his own files.

"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."

“. . . I just needed some space to focus. I’m sure Adler wouldn’t like all my papers everywhere around him either way.” You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your head and your hand. You wanted to erase it. “But I don’t mind staying close just in case. Easier to hand things to you or him whenever I’m done.”

“Someone sounds confident,” Park commented with a sip of her coffee, making your own lips twitch for a moment as you replied that you are the best as you moved some papers around. Than, in a quiet murmur with a quick dart back to Adler’s direction, “Distractions are best to be avoided. . .”

“What was that?” You asked, placing everything in a pile as well trying to keep some of them up by leaning the papers on the computer screen and failing as they slid down. You heard Park release an exasperated humored huff through her nose just as you heard her step away only for you to have a black leather gloved hand in your face with sticky notes. “What is. . .”

“Oh come now. I am sure it’d be easier if you used these. Make sense of this chaos. I guess there is some fact of what people say about geniuses and their rooms,” she motioned the sticky note pad again as you stared at it. The papers were yellow but new. Unused, outside of a crinkle at an edge.

“Where am I?”

“Who am I?”

“What is happening?”

“Why can’t you remember?”

“D o  y o u  h e a r  i t ? ”

“Who is Perseus?”

“Tell me who I am!”

Blood forms the words, as if with a finger.

“They want to kill you.”

“Make it stop.”

“MK”

Words pressed on the page, over and over and over with harsh penmanship and you don’t understand what’s happening. What is this room? And that man. . .  Why does it hurt? Is this helping Russell?

Pain

           Pain          Pain           ��  боль

                    боль

   Pain                                         Pain

              боль

Pain        Pain                   Pain

          Pain         Pain    Pain                

боль                                                              боль

It hurts.

GlockeGlockeGlockeG̷̟̩͙̏͌ḽ̸̊̿o̵̦̓͝c̵̭̯̊́ḱ̷̛̼͌͊e—

You turned away back to your papers, jaw tight.

“I’m good. Sticky notes can be a pain. Thank you, Park.” Park lowered her hand, giving you a questioning stare in the back of your head. You sighed, turning your head over your lowered shoulders. “I’m going to try to finish this today but I think I’m missing a few pieces of Intel. You can give me other things to decode for MI6 in the meanwhile.”

Park frowned delicately, lowering her mug.

“That sounds like a hefty workload. And I believe it would be best if we put all our focus into Perseus for now.”

No. You have to be useful.

“It’ll be fine,” you say, searching for a paper and giving it to her while Park grabbed it. “I solved that part of the code already. The other intel we got from Kraus, I’m going to need more information in order to figure out who exactly can be Strong Man, Bearded Lady, and the Juggler. I can’t go forward with that so might as well help with other codes you guys may have trouble with. What did you imply?” You ask with faux curiosity, your lips twitching up before falling as you wrote something down. “That I’m a genius?”

“Smartarse.” Park retorted, although she seemed to still hesitate but eventually she gave you three files where they seemed to be having trouble. You getting to work immediately to help as Park walked away and you hearing later on Park and Adler head to the office.

You did your best to not think too much of it. You have to keep at your work and make sure you’re capable and on task. You rather not get jabbed.

“We got a job to do.”

And although it might be inevitable, you would rather not have those words said to you as well. Even if it didn’t seem to have the same affect as before, the feeling and how your thoughts seemed to blur came back. Being aware you moved like a puppet and were one all along is not what you would like to focus on.

After you finished two of MI6’s files—had to do with KGB and how interesting they would use some quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 1984 hidden in the code as if the man was in support of communism with the work—with a hum mixed with impressed and curiosity from Park as she looked at the solved papers, your nose twitched at the scent of smoke and leather as you worked on the last MI6 folder.

“Stealing away my protege, Park?” Your hand around the pen paused before continuing, a plume of grey gathering above you. “And here I thought we have an equal partnership when it comes to this whole Perseus business. At least tell me you’re not wasting her time?”

“I wouldn’t call it stealing if she’s willing,” Park easily replied before handing him the two files to look over that you did, Adler scanning through it as she continued. “And it still has to do with our red friends. You sure are quick with the ball, Bell.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quietly, “Can’t exactly go forward so might as well help you with other codes that others can’t solve. Just send anymore my way. You too, sir.”

Adler made a distant hum, closing the files and handing it back to Park. You felt his stare at the back of your neck as you stared at the paper in front of you that might as well be nonsense since you sensed him.

Look at him, pup.

“If you wanted a more exciting challenge Bell, you could’ve asked. Always the type to leave no stone unturned and show off.”

“‘More exciting challenge’?” Park repeated, “Think MI6 codes are all flowers and rainbows compared to those in the CIA, Adler? I believe I recall that it was only Bell that could be able to solve the dossier instead of anyone else within your organization.”

Yeah, cause you brainwashed me, you thought bitterly but the two kept going as you could only sit in between. Nice to have to be a witness between these two again.

“Bell is the best CIA decoder we have,” you tightened your jaw in surprise instead of to tense when his hand landed on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze—in comfort, in belief, in trust, in camaraderie, in everything but what you wanted and what you needed, in order to control— as you lowered the paper in your hand. “As well as having a wide range of other skills. You think I would just call in any brain dead desk sitter for this operation?”

You could see in your mind’s eye how dizzy you would get before due to all this praise. Now, you just do your best to press your lips as your chest tightened.

You felt Park shift behind you, her looking at you in appraisal.

“You are one of a kind, Bell. Shame you were born in the wrong country. Having to have Adler here as your superior.”

You huffed through your nose in dry amusement at that. Irony not lost on you.

What a curse indeed.

You turned in your chair finally, lips quirked that didn’t quite meet your eyes as you pointed your thumb towards Adler.

“You should’ve seen him in ‘Nam if you think he’s bad now. Always with the lectures.”

You felt Adler release you, watching as he took an inhale as he did a small shrug in disinterest.

“You can be stubborn, Bell. If I couldn’t beat it out of you, I’ll talk it out of you.” You looked up and you could sense his eyes looking down at you behind those shades. “Although I feel like sometimes I’m wasting my breath. Your recklessness borders on insanity.”

“I think I can see why they put the both of you together than,” Park said, brow arched towards Adler and a certain look in her eyes towards him you couldn’t quite read. It looked like a warning. But what could that look be for? “Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

They left you after that, you waving off Adler asking if you need a break. He took that as the okay to bring you CIA files for you to decode. Seems he has no trouble using you dry if you’re going to insist on it. Despite that, you took them and you were able to solve three.

Park came back towards your desk and saying you could have a break, again, you waved her off. As well as her concern you wouldn’t want to read into—is it real for you and your body, or is some sort of guilt that perhaps they gave you a strong dose for the memory exercise and you’re running on steam, is it fake or real, don’t break the puppet- so you didn’t. You telling Lazar the food you wish and him dropping it by your desk with his own comment that your brain might fall out and you saying you’ll be fine, even threw in a small joke that with his food your brain will be well nourished. Outside of your favorite brand of pumpkin seeds of course. Sims only made a stray comment about the stacks on your desk, getting tall as the day went on and turned to night. You don’t recall if you said something back. You probably did, Sims was always distant—you have trauma that’s not even real and have the gall to have some nightmares about it when he actually went through that horrible war and sees a therapist for it, you don’t know the war—so you would take what you would get.

Everyone eventually shuffled out, Park—her brows looking creased and a purse to her lips—back to the side of your desk before she left and saying you should rest and leave the rest tomorrow.

“I’ll finish the rest today,” you replied, resolute and determined as you wrote the next possible code from this possible radio station an ally of Perseus may be using. “No rest for the wicked. As they say,” you threw out additionally, an echo of her words earlier which made Park raise her brows. “It’s fine. Once I start something, I have to see it through. It helps I can be patient when it counts—at least with this.”

“You seem to take it literally. You’ve been at it since early this morning. You only moved I believe when Lazar brought your food and to use the washroom.” Once you shrugged and said that seems normal to do and you’re fine with that, you heard Park’s tone grow stronger in reprimand. “Yes, you’re fine. Tell me, is Adler stopping you from taking breaks?”

You stopped, looking at Park and her irritated expression.

“No. . . No, it’s just me.” So none of you stick me with that dreadful drug and dig around my brain. So I can show all of you I don’t need it—that you don’t need to do that. That I’m useful and more than an asset. Unneeded assets get thrown away. “I just—just don’t want to disappoint.”

"Disappoint? You've exceeded expectations at every turn, Bell. Disappoint who?"

You didn’t answer, only turned back around and continued with your pen. You heard Park mutter a curse before walking out, giving you a pat to your back and tell you you’re driving back with Adler than since he’s determined to work as well before leaving. Your eyes round down to your desk.

You’ll be alone together with him again.

You took a shaky breath, focusing on the paper in front of you.

You’ll be fine. Just keep what you’ve been doing. Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend his concern—the touch on your shoulders burned as he shook you, as if to erase your dark thoughts out of you, lifting you up with his hand easily with words of a concerned reliable friend commanding officer—is real. And his kindness—why did they save you, you’re useless, what use is an untrained dog—is real too.

Just don’t question it. You’ll go mad.

Mind your tongue as well—control yourself. You used to tease before with faux confidence when the both of you bantered, but you have to watch your spiteful and petty comments. You really don’t want him to give you a dose.

But if you feel like the path is leading you there, you have a way to get at least a semblance of control back.

Puppets don’t control the puppeteer.

“Bell.” You turned in attention, Adler by the center table as he motioned his head towards the garage door, cigarette in hand. “Time to go.”

You nodded once, getting up after fixing up your desk a bit. Grabbing your beanie turned ski mask and placing it back on your head instead of your face and walked over obediently as the both of you walked out through the side door.

Good dogs come when they listen.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯  ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Come on, you know I hate fruit cake! Just give me your pears, Singer!”

“Sorry, Bell,” Singer grinned, taking a big purposeful spoonful of pears from the can, teeth flashing. “Guess you have to deal with all of that yourself. Too bad you don’t have a connection to those who pass the MCI’s, huh?”

You quietly glared at him with no heat, the act almost making Singer choke on his precious pears that he could’ve given you. The choking action making him spit out some and towards you, you making a noise of disgust as you punched the laughing man harshly to his shoulder as vengeance. It made him wince as the others around the campsite laughed at the two of you—the sun still above and the Vietnam jungle loud with birds and the trees moving against the wind. Although not really a campsite you would say since there no fire. Can’t have any eyes on them to go towards smoke.

‘They know these jungles better than us’ as Adler says.

Speaking of Adler, you turned towards him where he leaned against a thick great Banyan tree local to this country—the trunk thick just like the branches that spiral even to the floor. They were all actually hidden in the alcove of this tree, the space enough for them until they kept going to their destination. A beautiful yet haunting tree with its dark and smooth bark all around. You overheard once by Lee and other South Vietnam soldiers in base that these trees can have spirits inside. Dangerous they said for some of them. You don’t think these ‘spirits’ ever met Adler.

You could see Adler’s lips were up in amusement due to your predicament despite his war paint, raising his brow over his black shades when he noticed your gaze.

Before you even fully lifted your hand with the can of horrendous fruit cake, he shook his head at you, lips going even more into a smile.

“Don’t even try, kid. I fucking hate fruit cake myself,” he adjusted himself against the tree and the gun in his lap. The food of his MCI basically gone outside the crackers and canned pineapple. “Disgusting things. I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to have hard pieces of fruit and dry raisins in cake.”

That’s what you’re saying!

“Please, Adler. I gave you my cigs already, at least give me some of your pineapple?”

Sims laughed beside you, nudging your shoulder with his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“You think Doc is gonna give you some of his golden nectar away? Might as well have asked him to give his cigs along with his lighter.”

“Not happening, Bell.” Adler answered casually, finishing up his crackers and swiping his hands against his pants before moving to the can. “Besides, not like you smoke anyways. The cigs would just sit there pretty in the box if you don’t hand it to me. Unless you want to try to smoke again. It went well last time.”

“Didn’t she choke?” Singer teased around a mocking grin. It made his youthful face boyish and eyes bright. “Almost hacked out a lung didn’t you?”

Larson, who was quiet between Singer and Adler, spoke up. Already finished with his food since he’s been mostly keeping to himself. This is the first official mission he’s had since he got the news. Poor guy.

“I remember that,” Larson said softly, looking towards you and you just took all their teases. You blame Adler. “It was after the drinking game between Butcher and Hamilton. You wanted to see the big deal about why everyone liked the nicotine.”

“Only for Doc to come to the rescue after Bell took one of his cigs,” Sims ended with a shit eating grin. You’ll kill him. “Surprised you’re still here and alive. Not from just avoiding choking on nothing either, but that you took a cig from him.”

“You guys bet that I couldn’t. . .” You muttered with narrowed eyes towards Sims who shushed you.

“What was that?” Adler asked, cocking his head only for Sims and Singer to shake their heads animatedly. Adler hummed doubtfully but dropped it.

“Never mind that! Just—“ You groaned, putting your head on your hands as you still held the can of fruit cake. “You think I can eat this shitty cake? The ‘raisins’,” you said the word doubtfully, “could be actual pieces of shit for all I know. It could explain the taste. And how hard it can be.”

Singer and Sims snorted next to you, on both sides while Larson actually cracked a grin as you raised your head and told them strongly to think about it! Adler shook his head, watching the jungle periodically in the open spaces of the alcove which all of you did to be cautious but the fruit cake debacle must be solved.

You turned your eyes towards Sims, spotting his fruit cocktail. Only for his hand to block it.

“Nope.”

“Come on!” Sims shook his head, opening the can and eating the fruit cocktail and you scowled. “All of you are shitheads. Now I’m gonna have to eat this.”

“Damn straight you do,” Adler reaffirmed, stern yet you could spot he found your curse to all of them, him included, funny based on his arched brows. “No wasting MCI’s. You know the drill, Bell.”

You grunted unhappily at Adler, but you knew he was right. Which is why you wanted to trade in the first place. Food shouldn’t be wasted, no matter how heinous.

You took a spoonful after managing to cut into the hard cake, Sims laughing in your face and you could spot Larson keeping his smile at your disgruntled expression only for it to deepen when you took a bite.

You tried to distract yourself through bites by asking Adler how far away they were from their destination. Adler answering after they reach the next nearest foxhole which is two hours away, it will be another six till they reach where they need to be.

“Hue is a mess right now. With us additional reinforcements, we’re going to aim for stealth and go around and take out as much as we can.” Adler explained as they all attentively listened. They can’t mess up. “We’ve been able to give them a lot of damage last I heard, with one final push of us taking out some of them when they’re scrambling—we’ll consider the Battle of Hue a win. Of course, if there’s more than we can handle, we’ll stick to recon and head back around to tell command at the Hue MACV compound we have there.”

“And the civvies?” Larson asked.

“Don’t shoot ‘em.” Was all Adler said before they all moved to clean up and move on after you and Sims finished up.

You having to force to swallow and chew the cake and packing up the trash. They can’t leave anything else it can be used to track or find them.

Larson, Sims, and Singer were outside the alcove—waiting for you to finish as you smacked your lips as if that could take away the taste in your mouth as you grumbled. You moved to go out where Adler was as he stood by the opening to head out. You spotted something on the ground where he previously sat.

“You left something, sir,” you say, growing near to pick up the can. Huh, it’s not empty.

Adler turned his head over his shoulder, expression questioning.

“Whatcha mean, kid? That’s yours isn’t it?” You frowned, looking down at the can only for your eyes to widen. There was some pieces of pineapple left, a little less than half of the can gone but it’s something. He turned his head back as he muttered. “Don’t expect this to happen again. Not here to spoil you, Bell.”

“Don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Just pick up the trash and move it, kid.”

You grinned, knocking back the can and easily and quickly eating it. The juices spilling down your chin and neck but you didn’t care as you licked your lips. The taste of disgusting shit cake gone.

You packed the can quickly, swiping your chin with the back of your hand as the both of you walked to where the others were.

“Thanks,” you said to him softly.

“For telling you to pick up your trash?” Adler answered easily and you smiled knowingly but let it go.

Such a hard ass.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

The car ride was silent, passing street lights and empty cafe’s whizzing by and enlightening the car for a mere moment before it would be enveloped in darkness once more until the next light comes. You were staring out the window as they passed the streets of Berlin, the sounds of the wiper periodically occurring due to the light rain occurring. Not many people out at this time of night, nearing midnight unless you were a working girl or at the local bar. Some wisps of smoke remained in the car despite Adler on his side having his window slightly open. Your eyes watching as it moved lazily and glancing towards the quiet, relaxed man next to you before you would turn to look back out. Curious to see more of the city besides in the backstreets and being stealthy.

You didn’t see much last night after Volkov, you falling asleep in the car as Park drove you. You were too out of it when they arrived at the hotel, just absentmindedly listening and nodding along to Park’s directions and promptly knocking out once you reached your room on the bed. Only to awake once more at the alarm you or someone else must’ve set early in the morning.

You were focusing on that instead of the last time you were in the car with Adler.

“You’ll like where we’re going. Trust me.”

You took a sneaky glance towards the man once more, just as the man exhaled out a cloud of smoke that you watched. Enraptured in how it moved to and fro lithely, easily as your nose took in the smell before you glanced back at Adler, the side facing you being his ‘good’ side.

You wonder once more of his scar that accentuated this man’s beauty—all harsh lines that created a map that even now you wish to trace. For someone like this to earn the title America’s Monster, all styled wheat hair, suede shades, and an easy, wry tone—it should at least match the title.

Than again, you thought with faltering wax wings and of another—the fall of a devil with none. It was never about his looks was it?

“It’s a small price to pay.”

What does that make you?

“Alright, kid,” he says, taking out of your stupor as you stared fully at the man now. Smoke releasing out his mouth as he spoke, making you lower your gaze to it. “I’ll bite. What do you want to ask me? Must be a juicy question since you keep burning holes to the side of my face.”

Embarrassment colored your face, caught, as you quickly adjusted your gaze to straight ahead and instead watching raindrops going down the windshield.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mmm. For some reason, I can’t believe that. What did I say before?”

You said a lot of things before, you thought with a sad frown. But you knew what he was referring to. Always wants to be the one you tell all your worries and concerns to. Before, you thought it was genuine. Now, you just see it as how it was—a cloak to observe and make sure if your true real memories came or if they needed to give you a dose.

“Your scar,” you began as he tilted his head towards you, hair moving as he did so as he kept his one hand casually to the wheel while the other was leaning against his door. You didn’t get distracted by it. “How’d you get it? There’s a story there.”

“Scar?” He asked in false confusion, still stoic outside of a cocked brow and making your lips twitch up despite yourself. Before motioning with his cigarette hand towards his face. “You mean this? Is it noticeable?” At your unamused huff though your nose, he continued. “Back in ‘73, I was nearly killed by a tiger while on a mission in Malaysia. But human ingenuity still runs the animal kingdom.” He turned his head towards you when they reached a light, his brows rising above his glasses. “You ever been attacked by a tiger, Bell?”

You stared at him in disbelief before releasing a surprised snort. The nerve of this man.

“You’re lying. That’s not from a tiger, it would be worse than that. You and your need to tell stories. . .” You mumbled the last part, you don’t think he heard that.

“Didn’t know you were an expert on tigers, Bell. Got a degree in zoology under your belt that I don’t know about? What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Because—“ That’s not what you said last time. You stopped, a realization going through you. Because of course he’ll lie to you about this too. Worse kind of crowd, your ass. “If you got that from a tiger than I must be a distant cousin of Joseph Stalin.”

“That unbelievable, huh?” He said more than asked, amused at your sarcasm as you looked at him with crossed arms as the car moved once more. “Fine. I’ll give. I jumped on a roof in Calcutta back in ‘75 while chasing a Soviet agent. The jump was successful . . . the landing not so much. Advice: always know where the utility poles are.” At your deadpanned look when he glanced at you, his lips quirked into a humored smirk. “That one didn’t hit the mark for you either? Was it the jump?”

You shook your head, a small groan leaving your lips as you leaned your head against the dashboard.

“Anybody who’s anybody can jump from roof to roof,” you replied, staring at your leather boots—forehead pressed against the dashboard and maintains it there even as they turned or there was a bump. “You know that. Just like you know a utility pole would’ve either choked you or electrocuted you. At least with electrocution it’d be more scars throughout instead of that part of your face.”

“Watch the cockiness, kid.” He reprimanded but than, “You’re right though. Roof jumps the standard when it comes to our work. But you’re really confident that I don’t have any other scars throughout the rest of me. Know something I don’t?” Your eyes darted towards him, wide and as they passed a street light, you noticed he was peering down at you in turn. Your skin burned as you looked away and mumbled no while staring at your very interesting shoes. The man hummed. “How about this. You know what they say about kids falling in with a bad crowd? Let’s just say I fell in with the worst part of a bad crowd. The girl wasn’t worth it, believe me.”

At your silence, he glanced at you.

“What? That’s the one you believe?” You gave a small shrug. When he first told you that, you didn’t ask any more questions. It sounded personal the way he said it. Truthful. Adler always lies. “What makes this one believable? The lack of a specific date or are you a sucker for romance, Bell?”

You threw him a meaningful look up at him. Not feeling the need to say anything. At his arched brow though, you opened your mouth.

“Your ex-wife.”  His brow flattened at that. Something shifting in the air. “Was she worth it?”

A beat. A passing of street lights. The pitter patter of rain against the car.

“A romantic than. . .Never saw you as the type.” At your probing stare and his silence, you turned away. Seeing he won’t answer—too private. You’re a fool to even think he will say the truth at all. “Once.” You blinked, turning your eyes back up and lifting your head in attention as America’s Monster—a secret, a peek through the shades, a hint of something real besides the cold, black abyss, what are you Russell Adler—spoke ever so softly. A sardonic turn of chapped lips. “You can say we had a difference of opinion. Not much to it.”

There was more but you will take what you can get.

You thought of the memories you had, of friends you once believed were your own. Of little moments in beaches and camps and villages when all was calm and not chaotic with smell of burnt bodies or blood or how it feels to stab a bayonet through someone’s chest in defense. You could see them as clearly as any other memory you had. And feel it.

You thought of the poor soldier leaving a war only to get into another one in his home country.

“Larson. . .” you murmured, Adler hearing as he released a dry chuckle.

“Sort of like Larson. The poor bastard.” You watched him take a deep inhale, the cigarette almost a near stub. And you realize when that happens, he’s stressed. As stressed as a man like him could be. You’ve seen him in many moments in Vietnam. Not always the best. You wonder if that was another reason for your death. Adler exhaled a puff before having to throw the cigarette out the window with a flick, putting the window all the way up. “I don’t see why you’re so interested either way. Scars aren’t that impressive. Unless you always had a habit about asking for one’s ugly mug.”

You darted up at his eyes, shaded as they were, trying to sense if he was being serious.

Because he couldn’t be.

Not this man, with strikes of lightning upon his face as if Zeus did it himself. All power. Grace. Strength. Different from your barely functioning wax wings as you struggle to fly. Only able to watch and hope a falling demon crashes to its death—all harsh and slow.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Perhaps he is Zeus himself.

Perhaps how Adler got his scar was harsh retribution to control lightning, his scars even mimic those powerful strikes across his face. All strength. And all beauty. Those who survived struck by lightning always have the most beautiful marks upon their skin indicating their survival—you are selfishly bias though. Even now, you admit with self-loathing. The rougher marks on his face is all grace and you could wonder how he truly got it instead of fantasizing him as a God Of Lightning who mistook his own power upon his face.

It would only make sense. Both beautiful men, although you’ve never met the Greek God.

They both also have a habit of hurting women.

He’s all of that, while you could only hope with your squeaky levers and ropes and feathered wax can go up to said Mount Olympus where he was. A naïveté where you think you’re close with tired and sore arms only to be burnt away. A free fall down to the abyss.

Good pups stay in their place.

“You’re joking.” You accuse seriously as you stared up at him, your head against the dashboard but tilted slightly in his direction.

Adler tilted his head down slightly to stare down at you, a brow arched at your look.

“About?”

You didn’t say anything.

Just meaningfully looked up at him through your lashes, staring at his jaw that was strong as if Michaelengelo carefully carved it himself with minute details with his trusted mallet and chisel until dawn with a candle on his head due to determined ingenuity. Observing how the collar of his shirt did not do a good job in hiding his neck, his favorite jacket failing in that too so you could take it in. Not one strand was mussed or out of place on his head, all volume and thickness as your gloved hand twitched by your knee.

You than met the shades, in turn meeting his eyes as your heart seemed to pound as he stared down at you back. A look passing through his eyes too quick for you to catch, besides what you saw in your peripherals. The hand on the wheel tightening an iota as the air shifted to something heavier, blood pumping as your mind thought of reasons as to why which you pushed away. Impossible.

You licked your dry lips nervously, Adler’s expression seeming to tense when his eyes followed the action. You turned away, looking back down except to play with the ends of your gloves, neck hot and spreading.

You still felt his stare before he focused back onto the road.

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride.

Foolish dog should mind their eyes.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You couldn’t sleep much when you reached your room, another floor to Adler’s and near Park’s, and not just due to how you were more one with the night.

You opened Pandora’s Box—something forbidden coming out into the world as you thought back to the meaningful stare between you and Adler in the car. That even the thought makes your heart pound once more. Your brain further muddling and melting away the more you spend time alone with that man. Whether in being caught in his pace or just the mere thought of what he’s done.

Although, you suppose you already opened a Pandora’s Box. Possibly even darker than the one you discovered.

If the monster in man’s skin was Zeus—he created the box in the first place. Except he wished to hide it from you and keep you willfully ignorant instead of tease you to release envy and greed and disease out in the world. You managed to open it—and it was none of those things, it was cruel and inhumane to you all the same.

Take this needle and follow the story, do the trick.

If only that box stayed close.

Zeus always did like to confuse.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You let out a heavy sigh, hand mussing your hair harshly as you chewed your lips, staring at the paper on the center table of the safehouse.

“Having trouble?”

You slightly jumped as Adler, who was quiet in the seat across and to the side of you, spoke. Looking mildly curious at all the papers on your side of the table before taking a small puff. You sighed, looking back down at the paper in slight frustration.

“Just a little. Whoever made this code created a difficult to encrypt language. I have some of the numbers though already, it’s just the rest. I’ve never seen such an elaborate one before. . .” You said in thought as you tapped your pen against the paper. “I have to say, it’s impressive.”

Adler hummed idly, taking note of your words.

“Perhaps you need a sort of incentive.”

You moved your eyes up in confusion, wondering what that could mean. Only to stop once you noticed what was in his opposite hand not holding his precious cigarette.

It was a picture—a polaroid specifically. But not just any one. You stared at your oldest friend in the picture, taken on the rooftops in East Berlin, his face tilted down and a level of focus and calm as he stared down below in his crouched position. The lights behind him giving him an ethereal glow, a mix of white, red, and blue as those shades on his face gave a little glint due to it.

You reached a hand to see it better only for Adler to click his tongue, taking the picture back closer to him with a shake of his head.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t exactly be incentive if I gave it to you easily like that. You seem eager though.” Adler arched a brow at you. “Any reason as to why?”

Your cheeks prickle as you cursed in your mind. Why didn’t you get the film from the red room or Park yourself? You thought of a T.V. turning on it’s own, flashbacks to what happened in Vietnam on the screen, the memory sobering you up. You still. . .haven’t told Adler about that. He’ll call you soft and put you solely in the safehouse with no more field missions. You hate his disappointment. Still though, you recall you were determined to get it. A quick in and out but than. . . something? Something. . . happened?

At your brows furrowing deeply, Adler’s own brows furrowed and you answered his silent question as you touched your head.

“Sorry. . . That coma I woke up from still has done a number on me.”

“You did get shot twice, Bell. You have issues with always trying to push me out the way, even back in ‘Nam.” You smiled at his tease. You did have a protective streak. But only for certain people—even if you knew Adler could handle himself, you would do what you must for him if he told you an order. Or even go against it if it involved him doing something stupid like a sacrificial mission. You’d follow him anywhere. “Don’t think too much on it. I’m sure the rest of your memories will come back soon enough.  Just remember in the end that mission was a success.”

“Whatever it takes, sir.” You said, a phrase that he spoke often back in the war. Which you would repeat. You would always do what you must.

Adler’s expression shadowed as he nodded once.

“Whatever it takes,” he glanced at the polaroid in his hand, it facing him as he seemed to stare in thought before turning his gaze towards you. Your expression curious as you wondered what he was thinking before he turned the picture back towards you, brow up inquisitively. “Well, Bell? Don’t think you’re going to dodge the question as to why you want this? I went through a bit of trouble to let Park let me have it. She’s stubborn when she wants to be.”

You slightly scowled at him, feeling the blush once more.

You hated when he did that blasted rhyme!

You also had a sense there was more to him asking Park but you were too busy trying to defend yourself. Not think about their daily quiet pissing match.

“I like taking pictures. It’s an art form. Every artist would like to have their own paintings,” you said, tone even and you wanted to pat yourself in the back for that.

Adler rose both his brows now.

“Really?” The way he said it made it seem he doubted you. “Not a photographer. Was never really interested in art either so maybe that’s why I can’t relate. Still. It’s a good picture, my good side and all. Can see why you would want it.”

You restrained yourself from saying what you wanted like last time. That basically you would want that picture even if it was on his scarred side.

“It had good lighting.” You added as Adler stared at his picture, cigarette being held in his lips. He turned back towards you, glasses slightly falling from his nose and you could see a hint of his eyes. A tease. You stared. His lips curved around the cigarrette, amused and indulging. You panicked. “I-It does!”

“I didn’t say anything. But say, the sooner you finish that code, the sooner you can have this—“ he paused, waving the hand with the polaroid”—piece of art of yours. Never thought I would say that but I guess there’s a first for everything.” He pocketed the picture back in his jacket, blowing his smoke away from you before he stood up and headed towards Sims only to add over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I know you got this.”

You stared as he walked over, the belief he had in you with those words moving around in your brain. You moved back to work, pointedly ignoring Lazar’s whistle—him able to hear some of what occurred no doubt. You threw him an impolite gesture that only made the man laugh as you focused on the code. It took you three tiring and near sleepless nights, but you finished. Adler handing you the photo in between his fingers as you took it gently, trying not to crinkle the photo further as Adler watched you behind his shades as you held the photo, taking a thoughtful inhale of his cigarette before looking away. Looking around their surroundings outside the safehouse. Their break time spot.

“You sure got talent, kid.”

“You should know by now to not doubt me, Russ,” you replied, your eyes still on the photo between your gloved hands. “Only the best of the best with you. Just took me longer than I thought.”

“Watch that confidence doesn’t blind you one day, Bell.”

“You first.”

He chuckled at that, breathless and surprised making you stare up with wide eyes. The sound rare. Adler tapped the end of his cigarette, ash going on the ground as he stared towards the doors of the safehouse, an echo of a smile on his face. Barely there. Others wouldn’t see it, but you’ve known Adler for years.

“You got guts. And spunk. Met my match with you it seems, kid. You know me too well. . .” Adler took a puff, deep as he trailed off, shades dark.

“That’s not a bad thing,” you say, lowering the photo in your hand. “Sims does too. Can’t exactly get rid of us that easy.”

“Sims has been through many missions with me, but not as much as you.” Adler explained calmly. “Some of those, I’m taking to my grave. If I breathe a word about it, I’ll have a bunch of people up my ass.”

You sense as if this was like a conversation from years ago, on a beach. Quiet and away from everyone in the camp, just the two of you talking about realities and soldiers. You think about that memory a lot.

You recall some of the memories he’s referring to.

You half shrugged, pocketing the photo in your bomber jacket as you leaned against the wall of the safehouse.

“What can you do? It was necessary. Besides, I can’t exactly tell anyone else either, Adler. Brutality is sometimes necessary. That’s all I know.” You paused, tilting your head and throwing a teasing smirk his way to get him out this weird mood. “Don’t tell me America’s Monster actually cares what other people say?”

Adler deeply exhaled in exasperation, smoke coming out his nose.

“Don’t tease me, Bell. You know I can’t give a shit.”

“Than what’s the problem? You do what needs to be done. Make the tough calls. You know. . . you know I understand right?” You asked carefully. “I’m with you when it comes to doing what we must. To protect what we need to.”

Adler was silent. He never answered.

You didn’t push him. Didn’t feel the need.

You understood him the best.

Only monsters can see one another, after all.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Monsters, you’ve come to know, are also a certain kind of creature that takes what they need.

To want. Selfish and uncaring and you should be concerned at how easily you take in those traits.

Too busy to worry about regular people—the mundane. There are bigger things to be focused on than other’s opinions on what actions are necessary.

You and Adler can give not one fuck about others. They know what they are and will accept the titles from others with a nod.

What you’re coming to find however, that even with monsters, there’s different breeds.

You basically reiterated to him that what he did with you was necessary. Needed. Sound brutality at its finest. You feel like you can’t even argue.

What is better—loyalty to a country or to people?

You’re trapped.

.

.

.

I have a problem. This story is going to be long when it was supposed to be short. Oh well. 

Also, hot take maybe, I love both Soft!Adler and Dark!Adler so let’s just have both sides of him shall we? Wait…is Adler truly soft here? Who knows.

DM me if you wish to be tagged please. ^////^

Tags:

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#call of duty #for whom the bell tolls #chapter 3 #how little we know of what there is to know #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfiction #russell adler x bell #Russell Adler x Bell!Reader #Russell Adler fanfiction #Russell Adler fanfic #cod bell #call of duty black ops #call of duty black ops cold war #black ops cold war #adler x bell #female!bell #Cold War Reset AU #Undertale Reset AU #cod:bocw #cod Cold War fanfiction #bell x adler #cold war #Russell Adler x reader #female bell!reader #female bell #Poor poor Bell #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod:bocw fanfiction #cod:bocw fanfic

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt. 1

h. jisung x reader | netflix teen rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: language, eventual smut, minho is a little bitch

A/N: I pulled little tropes from pretty much every Netflix teen rom-com so if you see those little allusions then that’s why,, also I hope you all don’t mind that I made this into a series!

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

Your eyes blurred over the words that were held out in front of you, every page harder to remember than the last. 

It was your fault you were in the library studying during lunch period. You were the one that decided to procrastinate after all. But you also had no idea what was going to be on the exam in your statistics class. How could you start studying when you had no idea what you were meant to be studying? At least, that was your genius excuse for not touching your statistics book all week.

Resting your head on your hand, your eyes briefly wandered off of your book and directly up into a pair of pretty brown ones. They were already looking at you; gaze intense and flirty. It had you quickly looking back down at your book on instinct, this time without the intention of actually reading anything. 

No way. 

The boy sitting directly across from you was cute—no doubt about that. It was hard to disregard just how pretty he was with his classic big brown eyes and flat brown hair. At least, you couldn’t ignore him when he was clearly looking at you. Peeking up to make sure you weren’t seeing things, you caught his gaze again. And as his lip quirked up, you knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—he was deliberately looking at you. A childish giddiness flooded your stomach at the realization. 

He smiled at you; charming and sweet. 

“Do you know anything about political science?”

It took you a second to process what he asked, but you eventually shook your head with a smile. “D’you know anything about the statistics exam next Wednesday?”

He shrugged playfully. “Not a clue.”

“Well, it looks like we’re in the same boat then.”

“Utterly screwed by the school system?”

Snorting loudly, you instantly received an unhappy glare from the librarian and a followed up hush. An apology was on the tip of your tongue, but with the newfound fear of making another noise, you opted to send her a timid wave. Neither you nor the cute stranger moved until she returned to her book. But then he was slinking over and taking the seat beside you. 

You could’ve squealed—imagine being such a teenage girl that you were so ecstatic to sit next to a cute guy. You were practically bouncing in your seat. 

“At least I know that there’s someone else who can understand my worries,” he whispered, turning in his chair to face you completely. 

You scoffed, eyeing the librarian for a moment before blinking back at the boy in front of you. 

“Yeah right. You could ask the entire student body and they would all reply in one collective groan.” 

“You’re not wrong there.” He hummed. “Thanks for not making me feel like a complete loser for procrastinating.”

“Oh, you’re still a loser for procrastinating,” you said, attempting to hold back your smile as he looked at you with a raised brow. “You’re just not the only one now.”

He made a playful noise of anguish, nodding his head with a silent laugh. “Ouch. That hurts coming from a mystery girl.”

You shrugged coyly, letting him take that as your answer before you leaned back against your palm. 

“Maybe,” he paused for a moment, glancing around to the occupied librarian and continuing, “After classes, we could go out for coffee. Y’know—to get better acquainted. Unless you wanted me to keep calling you ‘mystery girl’.”

You pretended to weigh your options in your head, eyes flicking up towards the ceiling and an uncontrollable smile slipping onto your lips. 

You were getting asked out. And every possible thing was going right; he was cute, he was witty, there was a connection, there were no interruptions—

“Are you free at six?”

Your mouth opened to reply a quick “yes”, but suddenly there were a set of hands landing firmly on your shoulders and you could feel the familiar brush of soft hair against your cheek. 

“No sir, she is not free.” 

The subtly stern voice of your brother replied, and the color of the stranger's face in front of you went pale as his eyes darted between you and the intruder beside you. “But thanks for asking.”

“Sorry, Minho—man, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend. I swear.” Came the panicked reply. 

You winced, expression going sour as the apologies flew out of the boy’s mouth at a rapid pace. 

“Sister.” Minho corrected, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face that read disaster. 

And then after a few more unsettling glares and passive-aggressive comments from your older brother, the guy was gone, his head lowered to his chest. You had seen worse. There had been many more that happened to end in bruises and a visit from campus security, so a little humiliation wasn’t so terrible. 

But fucking hell—there goes another one. 

“You need to stop doing that,” you said, swiping all your books into your bag as your brother watched the poor soul leave the library with satisfaction. 

Minho scoffed. “What? Weeding out the losers that run at a little sign of conflict?” He tisked patronizingly. “Do you really want to be in a relationship with someone who pisses themselves because your brother was being a little protective? I’m not going to be here forever, and who will be the one to watch out for you then? Certainly not Mr. Are-You-Free-At-Six.”

A heavy sigh left your lips. You had heard his speech before and you had been infuriated. But after years of the same response and lecture, you grew numb to the feeling of anger towards your brother. 

“Who said I even needed protecting?”

“Me. I’m your big brother, I know what’s best for you.” He replied curtly, grabbing your bag from your shoulder and slinging it over his own. 

You scowled, following him as he charmingly waved at the librarian on your way out. She chuckled under her breath and fluttered her fingers towards Minho, absolutely no intention of even glancing at you. Minho was a very likable person. He had always been able to use his endless pool of charisma to get on anyone’s good side, and that had opened up many opportunities for him. 

Unfortunately, your brother had many sides to him, and one of them had manifested from his obsessive need to keep you away from any and all possible danger in life. That part of him was what had every guy running for the hills. 

You were a freshman in college, and every relationship you had was ruined, courtesy of your older brother. 

The two of you merged into the crowded halls filled with unrushed university students, several people greeting Minho with friendly gestures that you couldn’t keep up with. It was as if no one even saw you—you supposed that was also Minho’s fault.

“I have class now,” you huffed, tugging your bag from his shoulder and nearly making him stumble into a wall. “Okay? Am I allowed to continue my education, oh great brother of mine?”

Minho made a mocking face in your direction. “Haha. Very funny, young lady. Now don’t go seducing any more good-for-nothing’s while I’m gone. Got it?”

“I’m going to kill you one of these days.”

Minho snorted, spinning on his heel towards the direction of his own class. 

“And I’ll be waiting with open arms, little sister!”

“Eat shit, Minho!”

With a visible bounce in his step he disappeared behind the corner, supposedly heading to his next class, but you knew it was just a matter of time before he would get sidetracked and distracted along the way. He was always excited to see you around campus, seeing you—his baby sister—just made his day better. 

Generally, you found yourself smiling after a good interaction with your brother, but then he would go and pull the ‘protective brother’ card and suddenly you had the urge to rip his throat out. Minho knew you were growing up and pretty soon his intrusions wouldn’t be seen as just a nuisance, and they would turn into more of an invasion of your personal life. But you could see how much that realization hurt him, so you held back. 

You settled into your seat as one of the first people in the lecture hall, watching as your professor rubbed his eyes and set up the slides for the class. 

On your second day of class, your professor had snapped at one of the students for being late for his lecture, and it scared the shit out of you. The next day he apologized and used the excuse of being hungover and hungry, and it opened your eyes to the fact that you weren’t in high school anymore. You were surrounded by adults—careless and irresponsible adults, granted, but they were old enough to understand your professor’s woes. 

Still, you would never find yourself arriving late, just in case you caught him on one of his bad days. 

“Y/n,” 

The cheery voice startled you out of your stupor. 

“Good morning, my darling.”

Your eyes rolled back, though a smile still grew on your face. A fleeting thought ran through your head, you shouldn’t have been surprised, he did it every morning. You offered him a sparing glance as he stepped up to your seat, falling back into the uncomfortable chair beside you. 

“Hi, Jisung,” you chuckled as his arm swung around your shoulders. 

You decided to ignore the way the cut of his sleeves allowed you to get a glimpse of the muscle that was starting to form.

Han Jisung was your brother’s best friend, an annoying loud-mouth who was in too many of your classes for it to be a coincidence. He had been by Minho’s side for most of his life, and therefore, most of yours. And he flirted with you for as long as you could remember. 

Just as the majority of the students started to flood the hall, Jisung pulled an apple out of his bag, holding it out for you to take. 

“I noticed that you hadn’t gone to lunch with Felix today, and I figured since you’re looking berry cute today—” He grabbed your hand, placing the fruit into your palm. “Sorry. I didn't have any lines for apples.”

And the pickup lines—the many, many pickup lines.

“Really? Nothing?” You asked.

His head shook, eyes coy. 

You aided him, shaking the apple in front of his face, “You’re the apple of my eye?”

“Ah…” He nodded in realization, seemingly bummed for not thinking of that one before. But then suddenly a smirk flickered over his features and he was pinching your cheek, “I knew you were in love with me.”

You turned away from his grabbing hand, fighting back the urge to roll your eyes. His talent was finding a way to flirt with you, and at times you had wondered how he was so good at it. 

Practice made perfect, you guessed. 

You smiled. “Uh-huh.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was in love with you—

“Hyunae told me to start eating more fruit, so she threw the apple into my bag when I wasn’t looking.”

—but Han Jisung had a girlfriend, and she was so much more than you could ever be. 

Not that you cared at all. 

“So you two are doing well?” You asked, feigning interest as you reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop. Maybe if you were stealthy enough you would be able to sneak in some studying while your professor went on about how traffic signs affected climate change—or whatever it was that he was talking about that week. 

No wonder why you had no idea what you were doing.

Jisung hummed, leaning back in his seat. “Yeah. She’s still bossy, but that’s just Hyunae.” 

“I heard she got into quite the discussion with Hyunjin this morning.”

You were swinging pretty low, but you weren’t the biggest fan of Hyunae to begin with, so there was a small part of you that enjoyed picking at the scabs she left behind. 

Okay, there was a pretty big part of you. 

“Don’t remind me,” he grunted. “One day their fights will end with murder. And it’ll be me who is found dead.” 

“Next time they get into an argument just slip away and let campus security deal with the mess. Let the bitches be bitches.” 

Your suggestion was in the form of a joke, but really, you meant every word. 

Hyunae easily rivaled Hyunjin’s bitchiness, and in your group of friends, that statement had weight to it. Not just anyone could argue with Hyunjin and step away unscathed, but she managed to do so just about every day. You would’ve been impressed had she ever shown you any kindness, but she hated you from day one. You were only returning the favor by rooting for Hyunjin until he somehow figured out how to kill someone with his words. 

He had come close before, so you kept your fingers crossed.

“Well that bitch is a goddess in bed,” Jisung snickered, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “And frankly it’s hot when someone’s bossy during sex—”

“Are we talking about Hyunae or Hyunjin now?”

Jisung laughed sarcastically, throwing a sneer your way. “Bravo. You want a medal for the joke of the year?”

“Nah, I have plenty of better jokes that imply that you like boys.” You absentmindedly glanced back towards your professor as he began the lecture, his voice as uninterested as your gaze. “Though I have yet to make one about your secret relationship with my brother.”

Jisung nodded with fake enthusiasm and said, “That’s nice but I’m not listening to you anymore.”

“The girls on campus would pay big bucks for that sex tape.”

“Shut up before I throw up on you.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t like me.” You pouted half-assed, typing notes that you would never use solely because their only purpose was to make it seem like you cared. Though by the look of it, the professor probably gave less of a shit than you anyway. 

Jisung’s teasing and inappropriate comments hardly bothered you anymore, especially since you knew how to counter them with your own. 

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” he mused, though you both knew the reason why he was taking the class was because he needed the credits and the teacher didn’t care if you botched all of your tests as long as the final was double-spaced and had your name at the top. 

“Because I’m your favorite.” You whispered, lifting your pointer finger to your lips. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell Minho.”

“As if. Get your head out of your ass.” 

“Duly noted.”

You loved Jisung.

You loved him in the same way you loved your brother; you didn’t want to love him, but for whatever twisted reason, the universe made it so. Too bad you didn’t think of Jisung as a brother—the game of life was cruel that way. It sucked that he was such a good… everything. Han Jisung was a good friend, a good boyfriend, and annoyingly one of the best people you had ever met. 

Not that you would ever admit that to him and risk his head inflating to the size of Felix’s stuffed animal collection. 

Dammit, you really didn’t want to love that moron. 

Maybe you could get away with being in like with him instead.

“Y/n!”

Your head swiveled, just barely catching a flash of ridiculous purple hair before a hold on your wrist was stopping you mid-stride. 

“Owie,” was what came out of your mouth, your gaze set into a glare at your aggressor.

Though, Felix wasn’t fazed by your scowl. He was too excited—or pissed, it was hard to tell—about whatever he wanted to tell you. But knowing him, his news probably had something to do with the meme he posted on Twitter that morning—you did see it, and no, you weren’t very impressed. You expected better than the overused picture of the woman yelling at that cat at the dinner table. Caption be damned, that meme wasn’t even good anymore. 

Felix was followed by his shorter but considerably stronger lackey. Without even looking at him you already knew Changbin’s biceps were popping under the black shirt he wore, the whole aesthetic making him look way more intimidating than he was. 

“Where were you?” Felix asked, smacking your arm hard enough to gain your attention. “You didn’t meet us for lunch.”

“Maybe because I don’t appreciate your abuse.” 

“Haha. Seriously,” he griped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why’d you ditch me?”

You had been friends with Felix for who knows how long, but you would never get used to how needy the boy was. You and your brother sure grabbed a couple of good ones. 

“I had to study.” You admitted with a huff, though you already knew your excuse wouldn’t be enough for Felix. 

“Okay, one—you never do that.” He countered before flashing you a look. “And two—liar.”

You set your gaze on Changbin for some support, but the boy simply avoided your eyes as his way of saying “you’re on your own here”.

You turned back to Felix with a groan. Changbin never helped you ever, the bastard. 

“Lix I have a dumb test in statistics next week and for whatever reason, all I can remember right now is that the SREB3 gene in zebrafish can cure cancer or something.”

“That has nothing to do with statistics—”

“And is also very wrong. Are you even paying attention in biology?” Changbin asked, his face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disgust. 

You motioned to Changbin to prove your point. “Hence the reason why I was in the library.”

Felix suddenly tilted his head back and did that thing where he looked like he was trying to convince himself that living was worth it. 

He sighed. “Okay, I’m calling Seungmin—”

At his words, you all but shrieked, a hand swatting Felix’s shoulder instinctively.

Seungmin was a friend of Hyunjin’s, which indirectly made him a friend of yours. But the relationship between the two of you could only be classified as rocky considering he felt the need to tell you just how much he wanted to, and you quote, “throw a rock at your head”. Ironically enough, the feeling was mutual. 

But you would never say that to his face because that would most likely lead him to complete the task.

“You promised to never do that to me again!” You cried, throwing yourself against Felix’s boney shoulder. 

This time was Felix’s turn to look at Changbin and search for help, but he was met with the same passive reaction as you had received. Honestly, you didn’t know why anyone tried anymore. 

“He’s not that bad, Y/n.”

You gaped, disbelieving of your friend’s words. “You can’t be serious. He’s the devil! He preys on the weak, and then spits out their bones, Felix.”

“He tutored you once and you got a ninety-eight on your exam.”

“After hours of torture and anguish.” 

Felix gave you an unsympathetic look before plucking his phone from Changbin’s back pocket, “I’m calling him.”

With a glare, you folded your arms over your chest. “Remember this moment the next time you ask me to revise your Tinder bio.” 

“Joke’s on you. Changbin gives better advice and he doesn’t laugh at me.”

You snorted despite yourself. 

But before Felix could lift the phone to his ear, Changbin’s began to ring obnoxiously in his pocket, and you were ready to bow and praise whichever deity in the sky that decided to bless you with such luck. 

And like a child, you stuck out your tongue. 

“What’s up?” Changbin hummed, turning away from the two of you. “Did you get all of your stuff in the apartment yet…?”

Changbin and Minho were roommates and had been since Changbin was a freshman. The two worked well together in the sense that they were both loud as hell and could (and hopefully never will) sleep through a stampede of elephants in their living room. 

Felix slipped his phone into his pocket, unabashedly listening to the conversation just as you were. 

“They must’ve finally found someone interested in moving in.”

They had always talked about renting with someone else, but along with being the worst people to live with, the duo was picky as hell. Pigs would fly and snowballs would be living in hell the moment they let someone else move in with them. 

“Okay, but is Minho going to let you turn the office into a recording room?”

You froze, a remark on the tip of your tongue. 

Changbin was talking on the phone about recording—an activity that you knew for a fact that only two people in your life had ever taken part in—and moving into Minho and Changbin’s shared apartment. 

Now, you weren’t the brightest crayon in the box but connecting all the dots wasn’t too difficult. 

“Are you crazy?” 

Not only was the idea of Jisung moving into Minho’s apartment a terrible one, but it would also compromise the only place you could relax in peace. Your dorm was hell (for reasons you didn’t want to relive) and you weren’t allowed anywhere near the boys' dorm. You were currently on the RA’s shit-list ever since the misunderstanding that went down last semester—

Bad timing for a room check one night when you, Felix, and Hyunjin were in a compromising position.

If Jisung moved in with Minho, you would then be spending more time with him, and all the hard work you spent on keeping your distance would’ve been for nothing. You’d probably see his monster of a girlfriend around regularly as well, and you didn’t want to witness any of that in your lifetime. 

Time to welcome the snowballs to hell, because that was where you were headed. 

Hoisting your bag over your shoulder, you positioned yourself to run.

“Lix, I’m sorry but I have to go beat some sense into my brother! Maybe we can talk to Seungmin on a day when I feel like dying from blunt force trauma.”

You didn’t bother to wait for the yelling as you took off through the quad. 

The wind slapped you in the face the moment you were away from the cover of the university buildings, and you were suddenly second-guessing the escapade. Though, you simply chalked your reluctance up to laziness and continued forward. Minho’s apartment wasn’t far from the university, and after his little stunt in the library, you were looking forward to kicking his ass in the privacy of his home. 

You pulled your spare key from your bag as you finally approached the complex, eager to get away from the nipping wind. Because fuck you for wearing a t-shirt in forty-degree weather.

Pushing the door open, you threw your bag inside recklessly, “Minho, you flat-faced asshole. You tell me right now that Jisung isn’t your new—” 

But you screeched to a stop as your eyes locked onto someone who definitely wasn’t Minho. 

“Roommate.” 

You swallowed. 

A man with perfectly styled black hair and no sleeves on his shirt sat on your brother's couch, a pair of thick headphones covering his ears and a laptop resting on his thick thighs. His eyes darted up to meet your gaze as the door closed behind you, and a single brow raised as you stood in front him in a stupor. 

“Hello,” he pulled his headphones down to hang around his neck, cocking his head in amusement. “I am neither Minho nor Jisung, and I really hope I’m not a flat-faced asshole. Can I help you?” 

You floundered for a second, mouth open. “I mean—I was looking for my brother. Changbin was on the phone with their new roommate, and I just assumed…”

“You thought that Jisung was his new roommate?” He snickered, carefully placing his labeled laptop onto the couch and lifting to his feet. 

You were tempted to hang your head in shame and leave with your confidence shattered. But his attractive gaze was enough to convince you to stay put. 

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Well,” the stranger’s expression softened, his hand reaching forward. “I’m Chan. Your brother’s new roommate.”

You gave his hand a quick glance before taking it. 

“I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.”

New roommate: not as terrible as you expected it to be. 

The more you looked at him, the more you wanted to tell him how beautiful he was. Though you would have to be delusional to actually admit that out loud to a complete stranger, it was surprisingly tempting. 

And… you were still holding his hand. 

“Oh, uh—sorry.”

Releasing his grip, you laughed awkwardly, feeling the heat rise up your face and engulf your ears. 

Damn your brother and his affinity for making friends with every gorgeous person that crossed his path. He was going to kill you eventually, between his protectiveness that shattered your social life and all his model-like friends that continued to claw their way into your heart. 

A pleasant beat of silence passed between the two of you while you both took a second to consider each other. Chan wasn’t your conventionally beautiful person like Hyunjin, nor was he completely rough around the edges like Changbin. His hair was a bit wild, possibly due to the lack of product, but it was combed through and hung around his eyes nicely. A stark contrast from the gelled and styled boy you had been infatuated with.

Your eyes fell onto the coffee table between you, neck growing warm as you realized your thoughts had drifted back to Jisung, even with such an attractive stranger standing right in front of you.

You shut your eyes, stilling yourself as you took in a deep breath.

“So…” you drawled, avoiding his amused gaze. “Recording, huh?”

That settled it, you were an idiot. 

Chan snorted out loud, finding your innocent question cute.

“I’m a producer.” Chan supplied, shifting closer to you in order to lean against the couch. “I haven’t been able to record my own songs for a while though. That’s why I’ve been trying to convince Minho to let me turn his office into a recording room. I have all the soundproof padding and everything, all I need is to guilt-trip him into letting me put it up.”

You nodded in understanding, glancing over towards the not so office that Minho was currently using as a storage room. 

If anyone was ever surprised by the number of bundles he had in his room, they would drop dead at the sight of what was behind that door. 

It was bundle hell. 

Your voice rang out, “That would probably take you all day on your own. It’s pretty disastrous in there.”

“Is there an implication there?” He snarked, mock question in his voice. 

“I help you clean, and you show me what you have on that little laptop of yours.”

Chan hummed, his eyes tracing over you and then over to his precious laptop resting off to the side. He had always been cautious about showing people his music, there were too many outcomes that he didn’t like thinking about. But you were looking at him with this excited little grin and he was finding it hard to say no. 

You were dangerous.

“I can get behind that deal,” Chan concluded. 

“Great,” you chirped without a second of hesitation. “Let’s go.”

But Chan’s strong grip stopped you as you attempted to pass and you couldn’t help but focus your eyes on the veins that ran up his bare arms. 

His eyebrow raised, amused. “We’re just going to barge in there and start cleaning?”

“Would you rather wait for the bundles to gain consciousness and invite us in?”

Chan couldn’t help but bark a laugh at your sarcasm. “Of course not. I just wanted to ask for Minho’s permission first—”

You paused him with the raise of your hand, “There’s one thing you will learn about my brother; he never says yes.”

Sensing a seriousness behind your tone, Chan nodded, suddenly open to all of your suggestions. 

“Lead the way then.” Chan encouraged, gesturing forward and releasing your arm. 

“My pleasure.”

But just as you were about to reach for the handle of the spare room, you remembered something—

The fact that you were a (stupid and unemployed) college student currently paying for a failing test grade in her statistics class.

You cursed under your breath, pausing in your stride long enough to prompt Chan’s questioning gaze, and damn it, it was adorable the way he cocked his head to the side. 

“Something wrong?” He asked. 

Your face twisted in thought, “Probably…”

“And…?”

You cleared your throat, finally pulling your eyes away from the chipping white paint of the door.

“Do you perhaps know anything about statistics?”

#stray kids #skz #inkidz #jisung #han jisung #bang chan #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader smut #stray kids reader insert #smut #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids blurbs #stray kids requests #han jisung scenarios #stray kids imagines #han jisung imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids fanfic #jisung/reader #series #fic; man up

[missdawnandherdusk]

The Serpent Beneath

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Request: @daltonacademia Draco x Gryffindor reader and maybe like a faking dating type of situation? I am a sucker for the faking dating trope lmao. Maybe you could even spice it up by making it kind of an inside out version of enemies to lovers when they act lovey-dovey in public but in secret despise each other until they slowly get feelings??

A/n: Okay so this is part one because I’m evil, but part two will be up soon enough. Let me know what you think and I love you guys so much!

“Look, I’d love to go with you but...” I scrambled for an excuse. “But I’m dating someone already,” Yeah, that worked.

Harry wasn’t convinced. “Really?” He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Yes!” I said a bit too enthusiastically.

“Who?” He demanded.

“Uh,” then I saw him from across the room, coming in right in front of Snape, to his seat beside me. “Malfoy,”

“Malfoy!?” Harry’s eyes bulged. “Are you bloody joking!?”

“Oi, this isn’t your seat Potter,” Draco sulked, pushing past him. “Make a fool of yourself in front of Y/l/n on your own time,”

I gave a tense smile as Snape called the class to order. Slumping in my seat, I glanced nervously over at Draco. What in the world had I just done?

“What’s got Potter so off? You refuse to kiss his feet this morning?” Draco muttered toward the end of class that was filled with glares and offhand comments from Potter all the while.

“I might have told him we’re... dating,”

Draco stiffened beside me, sitting up ramrod straight. His hands clenched into fists as he sat there glaring at the front of the room. All things considered it could have been a worse reaction. He could be yelling or hexing me. Still his stoicism worried me.

As soon as class was dismissed, Draco remained seated, still rigid. His hand came to my wrist with a vice grip and I had no choice but to stay put. I tried to not let my nervousness leak into my facial features. Especially as Harry glanced back at us still sulking. I managed a smile.

When the room was clear, he let go of me and stood, shoving excess parchments and quills off the table.

“Are you absolutely daft!?” He shouted. I shrank back in my chair.

“I panicked okay!?” I bit back. “He asked me to the Yule Ball and chosen one or not I cannot stand him,”

Draco anger flitted to confusion before resting on something neutral.

“Ickle Gryffindor can’t stand Saint Potter?” A devious smirk was playing at his lips. “I thought it came with the territory,”

“Oh, you’re not a picnic either Malfoy,” I snapped. “Bloody Slytherins,”

“And yet you chose me,” He was toying with me now, as a cat cornered a mouse. “Is this admiration I see?”

“It was mistake,” I huffed grabbing my bag and standing. “Do you get off on making me miserable?”

He caught my arm as I went to leave. I shook him off. There was something mischievous in his eyes as he smiled at me. It left an unsettling pit in my stomach.

“Do you not want me to walk me to your next class?” His feigned innocence was a serpent waiting beneath a flower.

“Shove off Malfoy, I already have enough of a mess to fix. I don’t need this from you,”

“Well, the way I see it,” He grabbed his bag walking along side me. “Is that if you can’t stand Potter and the only way you’d think to get out of dating him is to ‘date’ me... and I’d love to see Potter knocked down a few pegs...” His smile curled into something wicked.

I stopped in my tracks and gaped at him.

“I’m not some toy you can fight over! And I don’t like you!” I exclaimed.

“But do you hate me enough that you won’t consider a fake relationship with me over whatever train wreck it would be with Potter?” Draco really scared me sometimes.

I worried my lip with his question and started to walk to my next class. He kept pace with me as we walked. His silence baffled me, allowing me to think clearly for the moment.

“Okay,” I muttered, pausing in an empty hall. “Deal,” 

“Deal?” He seemed skeptical.

“Don’t get me wrong, I loathe you entirely, but... if you can get me out of having to date Potter or constantly turn him down... then deal,”

“Glad to be in business, darling,” Draco drawled, and I had to do everything not to cringe at the pet name. “See you after class?” He leaned in as if to kiss my cheek.

“Buy me dinner first, Malfoy,” I hissed, flinching away. “But... see you after class,” I achieved a small genuine smile.

McGonagall looked down on me as I entered class late and took my seat beside Hermione. 

“Is it true?” She whispered urgently. “Are you dating Malfoy?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off McGonagall as she lectured. It was uncharacteristic of Hermione that she spoke to me during class. She was normally keenly intent on learning the new material or getting ahead on things we haven’t covered yet. Now all she could do was gape at me before tearing her eyes away to McGonagall.

“How in the world can you date Malfoy?” She hissed as we left class, before freezing, seeing that Draco was waiting in the hall, leaned causally against the opposite wall. He pushed off of it and made his way over to me, offering his hand and glancing to my bag. I raised my eyebrow at him, and he offered a seemingly sincere smile. I passed my bag to him.

“I’ll see you later Hermione,” I smiled tensely.

She eyed us suspiciously but made her way down the hall in the direction of the library where she would spend her free time this afternoon, akin to every other afternoon.

“How was class?” Draco asked, leading me down the halls in a direction of no consequence to me.

“Fine,” I stammered out. “Just McGonagall. Hermione and I are already a few lessons ahead anyway.”

“You favor Transfiguration, then?” He mused, as if he were actually interested.

“Uh... I prefer Astrology, but that’s not really the use of magic is it? Just stories.” I shrugged and smiled. “What about you Malfoy? You’re a Potions protégé, is it your favorite?”

“Uh, yeah,” He didn’t seem too sure. I pointed it out. “Well, I never really thought about it. I have to be good at everything, so why favor one subject over another?”

I glanced up at him, confusion furrowing my brow slightly.

“What?” He demanded, snideness leaking into his tone. It brought me back to reality. 

“How... Slytherin of you,” I noted with a teasing smirk. He rolled his eyes at this.

When we were out of earshot and eyesight of anyone and his demeanor changed fractionally, still giving way to a serpent under a flower. If I wasn’t careful, I would start to marvel at the miracle of the flower and overlook the threat that lurked beneath. His expression became somber and something more akin to what I was used to. A grimace. I missed the false smiles that lit up his eyes.

Flower. Serpent. Right.

“Do you really want to get dinner tonight?” His curt tone pushed me back a fraction.

“Oh... uh.” I wrapped my arms around myself in protection. “Sure?” 

It was a weekday, meaning that we’d have to eat in the Great Hall and my stomach felt uneasy about sitting anywhere near other Slytherins. Fake dating Draco or not, they were malicious to any sort of outsider, especially a Gryffindor who was friends with Saint Potter.

“I’ll pick you up at seven outside your portrait.” He passed my bag back to me now that we were outside the aforementioned portrait.

“Okay,” I barely got out as he swept down the hall and down the stairs. I watched him go, leaning over the railing to see if there was some way to know the difference between the serpent and the flower, and which one was truly the act.

“Fraternizing with a Slytherin,” The Fat Lady scoffed. “You should be ashamed,” I bit my lip, giving the password and the portrait opened begrudgingly.

Should I be ashamed for the situation that I had found myself in? The easy answer was yes. I should. Not only was I fraternizing I was being courting by a Slytherin. Draco Malfoy was an egotistical arrogant bigot who I should avoid at all cost. Not be in a false relationship with. And for such selfish reasons too. I was using Draco, but on the same note, he was using me to get at Harry. We only cared for the other enough for what they could do in our favor.

It was a mess.

I ducked my head and flopped onto a sofa in the Common Room.

“Oi! What the bloody hell are you thinking!?” And there was the lecture I was expecting from Harry, and probably every other student on this campus, and myself. But this was Harry, an equally egotistical arrogant loudmouth, who I loved to hate just as much.

“I’m sorry,” I snapped sarcastically. “I didn’t know that you controlled who I dated or not.” My tone was acidic.

“But Malfoy!? Malfoy!?” Harry demanded. “It’s got to be a joke!” It was.

“Just because I rejected you doesn’t mean you’re allowed to call my relationship with someone else a joke!” I shouted drawing my wand. A small crowd had formed in the Common Room. I didn’t know who they would side with, but the odds weren’t in my favor, that much was sure.

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part 2

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masterlist

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more like this:

gryffindor!reader series

ten things i hate about you

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[fific7]

Cold Day in Hell - Part 2

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

Logan went back to his own office after showing her to hers. He sat down in his plush office chair and swivelled slowly from side to side, picking up his pen and tapping it on the desk as he did so. He was thinking. How was he going to approach this?

Unusually for him, Logan wasn’t 100% convinced that she was attracted to him. That was something of a departure for him; the norm was that he would just look at someone and that was it, they were putty in his hands. Not this gal. He thought she might be interested but he could tell that there were walls up there, that was for sure.

Should he ask Juliet? She was dead set against him getting involved with this new lady, but it might be worth listening to one of her lectures if he got some useful ’women’s perspective’ advice at the same time. He got up and strolled the short distance down to her office, knocking and popping his head round the door. Juliet looked up from her screen at him, “Hey, Logan... what can I do for you? I’m right in the middle of something here.”

Irrespective of her comment, Logan went into the office and sat down in the chair opposite her. Sighing, Juliet put her screen lock on and lounged back in her own chair. Knowing him as she did, she could tell just by looking at his face that he was in thinking mode, in fact he wasn’t even looking at her; he was staring at the back of her big computer screen, a sure sign that his mind was off somewhere else. “Logan!” she said firmly, and his eyes snapped to hers, “I’m busy here, darling brother. What’s on your mind?”

As Juliet had been expecting, he said the name of their new secondment. Then he held up a hand, “Now I know you don’t want me to go there, Jules - but I’m serious here. She’s not a one-and-done in my mind.” Juliet snorted, “What then? A two-and-done?!” Logan rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, very funny. No. I’m thinking of something a bit more... established than that.”

Juliet’s eyes widened, “You mean....” her voice took on a mock awestruck tone, “...a relationship, Logan?” He nodded, “Well... yeah. I suppose you could call it that.” She sat forward, eyes boring into his, “No! I just don’t believe you. Look, you’re the guy who’s out on the town every night with a different person. Or occasionally someone you’ve taken out once or twice before. You are just not a monogamous kinda guy! I don’t want you to mess around with this girl!” Logan crossed one leg over the other and made a point of studying his nails, “I know you don’t, but I want to take her out. And I’m gonna take her out, Jules. She can make her own mind up if she doesn’t want anything to do with me from there on.”

Juliet muttered something and Logan leant in a bit, “Whaddya say, sis?” She looked him straight in the eye, “She probably doesn’t want anything to do with you right now, never mind after you’ve taken her out. Your reputation proceeds you, Lo.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d spent a little time arranging the few items you’d brought with you onto your new desk. Your laptop, your favourite pens, a ruler and a stapler. That was it - you liked to travel light. And anything else you needed, you were sure Delos Destinations would be able to supply by the kilo-load. Logan had said to you, before disappearing back to his own office, “I’ll leave you to settle in, and anything you need.... just ask!” There had been the merest hint of a wink accompanying that last comment, but you’d poker-faced it and just said, “Thanks, Logan.... I’ll bear that in mind.”

You so wished that he wasn’t as handsome as he was, as you had to admit that this made it quite difficult to concentrate on your projects. Shaking your head, you pulled up the folder for one of said projects on your laptop and began work on it.

Hopefully Logan would just keep to his own office. Otherwise you weren’t sure how much work you’d actually get done. Your eyes would be too busy drinking in the male masterpiece that was Logan Delos.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan walked dejectedly back to his office. The visit to Juliet for advice had been a complete and utter waste of time. All he’d got was one big rant about keeping far away from his new love interest. Well, he wasn’t about to do what she said, he’d be damned if he would.

Back in his office, he took to swinging from side to side in his chair once more. He really didn’t have a clue how to start his campaign to win her over. Logan just wasn’t used to having to chase down anyone he was interested in, so this was a bit of a new challenge for him. Should he go all out and whisk her off somewhere in one of the private jets? Take her out on the company yacht? Pick her up in a limo and take her to a premiere?

Or should he go low-key, ask her out for a coffee and see how that went down? Build it up from there? He’d picked up his pen once more and as he got more and more frustrated, threw it across the room where it bounced off the door, dropped and skittered across the floor. A couple of seconds later, his secretary knocked and opened the door, “Did you need something, Mr Delos?” “Uhhh.. no, no, it’s fine, Stacy, sorry about that.” She gave him a bit of a look, nodded and closed the door.

He sighed and thought to himself that he’d better get ready for these upcoming investor meetings in Seattle the following week. He sat bolt upright in his chair, smacking his forehead. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner!

Three days in Seattle... just the two of them.... perfect!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You heard a small tap and then Juliet’s head appeared round the door. “Welcome!” she smiled, coming into the office and over to you, giving you a big hug. “I’m so pleased you’re here!” You agreed, “Yes, I’m pleased to be here. It’s lovely to see you, Juliet.” “It’s going to be so much easier all round,” she said, before sitting down opposite you, “...it’s going to make a big difference to the status of the projects.” She paused, her eyes - so like Logan’s - gazing into yours, “And.... I don’t mean to sound off-putting, especially on your first day... but I’m guessing you already know that my brother is really quite taken with you?”

You gave a small smile, “Umm... yes I kind of did get that vibe.” She nodded, “You’re a damn good engineer and that’s a big part of the reason you’re here, but this was Logan’s idea and I’ll be straight with you, he’s busy working out how he’s going to get close to you.”

Laughing out loud, “Juliet, no offence to your brother - who’s a very good-looking guy - but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I go out with him. I know he’s a complete player.” She laughed too, “I’m glad you’re already aware of that. I mean, I love my brother to bits but he is just terrible at relationships! He doesn’t mean to be, but he says he doesn’t know if he could ever love anyone, any one person. It’s not really in his DNA.”

You took a breath, thought to yourself, why not? - and asked, “Is his ...uhh... substance abuse a thing of the past now? Well, as much as it can ever be.” Juliet nodded, a pained look on her face, “Yes, thank god. We had a pretty awful time with him for a while, especially after a... a particular situation in Westworld, but he’s clean now and still goes to meetings every so often just to keep himself in line. I really thought we’d lost him a couple of times, so yes, he’s done really well. I’m proud of him.” “You should be,” you agreed, having seen tears welling in her eyes when she’d mentioned losing him. “I’m sorry I brought that up, Juliet, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She smiled, “Hey, it’s fine. You should know what you’re getting into... or rather not getting into!”

You both laughed at that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

In the meantime, Logan had asked his secretary to book one of the private jets and two hotel suites in downtown Seattle for the dates of the investor meetings. He was almost bouncing around his office, he was so pleased with himself and his new plan.

He thought he heard the sound of laughter coming from her office, and couldn’t stop himself from going right next door to see what was going on. He opened the door after a brief knock on it, and saw his sister sitting with the object of his affections, the two of them still laughing.

Juliet turned round and said with a smile, “Lo! We were just talking about you.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Oh yeah?” She nodded, “Yeah. Are your ears flaming?” Logan scowled at her, “What have you been saying, Jules?” with a quick, anxious look over at the other woman in the room. Juliet stood up and said, “Oh, nothing too bad, Logan,” giving him a wicked little smile and striding out of the room.

Logan watched Juliet go before clearing his throat and turning back just in time to see her hiding a smile. “C’mon,” he said, “...what did she say?” She shook her head, “Honestly, nothing bad. She was just pulling your strings.” Logan just managed to stop himself saying that she would be more than welcome to pull his strings, before sitting down in the chair which Juliet had just vacated. “Okay... well, what I came in to tell you is that we’re going to Seattle next week...” total surprise on her face, “....to some investor meetings,” Logan carried on smoothly. “Oh now, Logan, why on earth would you want me to go to them?” “You’ll be able to update them on a few of those middleware projects you’re working on. You were so much better than that boring asshole they let do most of the presentation. You’ll wow these guys.”

She was still looking at him as if he’d asked her to go to the moon. “It’s all booked,” he said quickly, a tiny bit of confidence leaving his voice, “...so I’ll give you the dates and schedule, okay?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Oh, he’s booked it already has he? you thought. Sighing, you could feel your shoulders slump a little in defeat as you agreed to go with him. You knew that your boss wouldn’t be very impressed if you didn’t, as apart from helping Delos Destinations get more investment, you’d be floating your own company’s name out in front of them.

“Who else is going?” you asked, and saw a distinct gleam in Logan’s dark eyes as he answered, “Uhh.. just the two of us. Don’t want to overwhelm them with too many speakers.” He slapped his hands down onto his thighs, “Well, I’d better get back, I’ve got a meeting in 5. I’ll get those details to you asap.” He stood up, “See you later,” and left your office.

Okayyy - just the two of you? This trip was shaping up to be something out of a bad romcom.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan had mentioned the proposed Seattle trip to Juliet as they were both leaving the office, casually dropping in who was going amongst all the other details. She stopped in the middle of the corridor, looking round to see if anyone else was within earshot before saying in an exasperated tone, “Really, Logan? Are you serious? And I suppose there’s only going to be one room available when you get there?!” Logan held up both hands, “No!! You can check, there are two rooms booked!”

Juliet scowled at him, “Logan, I swear - you better be on your best behaviour. She’s only just arrived, so you piss her off this early in then I’m going to be super pissed too!” Logan did one of his over-exaggerated eye rolls, “Oh for fuck’s sake stop worrying, Jules, I’m not about to piss her off. I’m out to charm her.”

“Oh god help her then,” muttered Juliet as she stalked towards her car.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan took your hand as you stepped out of the chauffeur-driven car at the private airstrip. You’d thought about ignoring his outstretched hand but instead placed yours in his. A smile appeared on his face, “Now, this is how it’s gonna be over the next few days - us holding each other’s hands through the investor meetings.” You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Logan.” “I do say,” he smirked, hand going to the small of your back as you reached the bottom of the steps up to the aircraft and guiding you onto them. You knew that his eyes were glued to your rear as you made your way up the steps, but tried to ignore the feeling. Every so often you’d catch Logan’s eyes on you, looking at you as if you were a prey animal and this made you even more determined to avoid getting involved with him.

But lordy it wasn’t easy, you admitted to yourself as you watched him settle his tall frame into the extremely comfortable seat facing yours. You’d never been on a private jet before, but you were having difficulty paying attention to all its facilities when Logan was looking absolutely edible in an impeccable dark blue suit and light pink shirt, unbuttoned quite low as usual and showing off a little chest hair. Your eyes met his after you’d finished exploring his body, and he was looking so smug you wanted to punch him. Damn! You’d better be more guarded in future when drooling over him.

Now you started showing an interest in the interior of the plane, but every time you caught Logan’s eye he was still smirking at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Ha! he laughed to himself, he’d obviously chosen the right suit then. He’d taken particular care when dressing that morning as he’d wanted to look really good for her and it seemed he’d made a good choice, judging by the look on her face when she’d finished eyeing him up and down.

He lounged back in his seat, still gazing at her. He wanted to fuck her so badly! His mind supplied a vision of himself climbing on top of her as she sat there, undoing her top, pushing her skirt up and.... He could feel himself getting hard just from that short clip playing in his head right now.

“Wanna fu-...”, he clamped his jaw shut, before carrying on, “...wanna drink, sweetheart?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were under no illusions as to exactly what was running through Logan’s mind at that moment.

You’d noticed how his eyes had glazed over slightly as he stared at you, his lips parted, and you could literally see his trousers tightening by the second over his groin. The dead giveaway was when he almost asked you if you wanted to fuck instead of what you wanted to drink. You couldn’t stop a smile making its way onto your lips. There was an undeniable thrill that you could turn him on like this ...but No!!! your brain said. This guy’s middle name is ‘Player’ and even his own sister had warned you what a hound-dog he was.

“I’ll have a G&T, please,” you said sweetly, “...and nothing else, thanks.”

Logan looked stunned for a second, then pressed the call button for the attendant.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Oh shit, Logan thought, she knows exactly what I was thinking. I guess I’m being a little obvious here, I’d better calm it the hell down. He just wasn’t used to playing it cool in the pursuit of someone. Usually he went from 0 to 90 in sixty seconds, and the people he hung out with expected that from him. Not this gorgeous example of womanhood though. He was going to have to majorly change his approach.

But being with her like this - so close, just the two of them - was driving him crazy as it felt really intimate, and while his thoughts were still firmly planted in the sexual receptor of his brain, the longer they were on the plane together the more he realised that he was enjoying just being with her. Which surprised him to be honest, that wasn’t something that normally entered his sphere of relations with other people. She had a very calm demeanour, and it made him feel at ease. Conversation flowed, and he felt like he was getting to know her a lot more.

Initially he’d hinted to his sister that he wanted more than sex from his new love interest to get Juliet off his back, but now it appeared that karma had got him fair and square. It felt like that he did really want something more.

What that was, he wasn’t exactly sure yet.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Checking in to the fancy hotel in downtown Seattle, you noticed the receptionists - male and female - checking out Logan and not being discreet about it. He, meanwhile, was in his element, flirting up a storm with them while handing over his black Delos card to register for the rooms. You shook your head, smiling to yourself. This was exactly what put you off him. You were more than certain that he’d be sharing a bed with one or all of them that night.

He handed you your keycard, and quickly noting your room number you took off like a shot towards the elevators. Logan had been surprised when you’d set off so briskly, and scrambled to grab his bag and suitcase beside the reception desk before following you.

He reached the elevator just as you turned, smiling at him and commenting, “Have fun with your new little friends,” and nodding your head back towards reception.

Hitting the ‘close doors’ button, you were still smiling at him as the doors closed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan scrabbled at the ‘call’ button but not quickly enough to stop the doors closing in his face. Damn it! The other elevator arrived after a couple of moments and he rushed into it, wanting to catch up with her. What had he done wrong? She’d seemed pissed off underneath that smile. And what did she mean by his ‘new little friends’? Then he realised what had ticked her off - he’d been doing his usual flirting with the hired help who of course had been flirting right back.

But it didn’t mean anything to him, it was just his usual m.o., didn’t she realise that? He’d obviously need to introduce her to the Delos way of doing things so there’d be no future misunderstandings.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were just putting your toiletries out in the bathroom when there was a knock on the door. Knowing it would be Logan, you opened the door to find him standing outside still with his suitcase and bag in hand. “Come in,” you invited and he walked quickly inside. You went back to the bathroom and finished laying out your shower gel and shampoo.

He stopped next to your bed and sat on it, waiting until you emerged from the bathroom. You had to admit he looked good on your bed but dismissed the thought and headed over to your suitcase to start unpacking. “I always flirt with the staff,” he said, “...it gets you a better level of service.” “Or just gets you serviced,” you said before you could stop yourself. You heard his deep chuckle as you kept taking items out of your case.

“No, that’s not the aim,” he said, “truly it’s not.” Walking over to the unit underneath the giant flat-screen TV attached to the wall, you began putting the garments away in the drawers then became aware of Logan invading your personal space to look over your shoulder. He was smirking at you and you suddenly realised you were holding a handful of your lingerie. Long fingers stroked one of the silky pairs of panties you were holding and you abruptly shoved them all into the drawer and slammed it shut. “Logan!” you admonished him, but his only reaction was to keep smiling mischievously at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan had tried to persuade her to come out on the town with him but she’d decided to stay in the hotel and have an early night. So he’d gone out on his own, heading to a restaurant he’d eaten at before and ordering a steak and some wine. The waitress had been very interested in him, hitting on him shamelessly but he’d politely brushed her off.

There was only one person he wanted in his bed. Not sure how long it’s gonna take me to get her there though, he thought glumly.

What did surprise him was the fact that he was willing to hang on in there until that happened.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Drifting off to sleep, aware of the low sound of the TV in the background, you couldn’t even be bothered to sit up to grab the remote and switch it off. There was a low knock on your door, then a second one - louder - when you didn’t answer the door. Groaning, you got up and went over to it, looking through the peephole to see Logan standing outside.

Sighing, you opened the door and he swept into your room as if he owned it. Then with typical Logan braggadocio he threw himself gracefully onto your bed, propping up some pillows behind him, crossing his ankles and linking his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes heavenwards and closed the door, making your way towards where he lay. You were damned if he was going to chase you out of your bed. Standing beside it with your hands on your hips, you demanded, “Logan... what do you think you’re doing exactly?” Those dark eyes of his roamed all over you in your short little silk nightdress and he smiled, “I’m lonely.”

“Lonely!” you laughed, “You’re... you’re just... unbelievable!” His smile got wider, “I’m more than willing to prove just how unbelievable I am, but you won’t let me.” “Do you blame me, Logan?” His smile faltered, and he looked away from you, gazing at the TV, “I guess not.” But then those dark chocolate eyes were back on you, “But you could at least give me a chance,” he said with a small but genuine smile.

You felt yourself melt a little, you couldn’t help it. So against your better judgement, you lay down next to him on the bed, under the covers. “Can I get myself a drink?” he asked. “Oh, I see, it’s my mini-bar you’re after, is it? Help yourself.” He got up and headed over to it, laughing and turning back to you, “You know only too well what I want, sweetheart.”

“You can have a whisky, Delos, but that’s all you’re having.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan sighed as he poured the whisky miniature into a glass and made his way back over to the bed. But then he perked up, after all he had made it into her bed - in a manner of speaking - and against all expectations. Now he just had to make sure he didn’t screw it up (again, in a manner of speaking) by hitting on her.

If he got to spend the night in her bed, that would be enough for him - for now.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes slowly opened and you gave a little yawn, wondering what time it was and thinking that today was the first round of investor meetings, when you suddenly realised that you could feel someone’s breath on your ear and that there was an arm slung over your stomach. You were lying on your side and you moved your head slightly to look over your shoulder, but you knew what you’d see before you did.

Logan. His eyes closed, hair tousled, lying on top of the covers but he’d still managed to more or less wrap himself around you. He shifted slightly, giving a little sigh and burrowing his nose even further into the nape of your neck.

Oh hell. This was really not a good plan, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be lying here with him. He looked so deliciously handsome while he was asleep. But also vulnerable. You turned away from him and studied the bedroom wall opposite you.

You really did have to watch how you were handling this, or despite your best intentions you were going to end up getting badly hurt.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan awoke from the very horny dream he’d been having, only to remember that he was partly living it in real life. He sensed she was awake - he could tell by her breathing - and he decided to push his luck a bit. He gave a small sigh as if he was still sleeping, and gently rubbed his erection against the back of her leg. He heard a quick intake of breath, and smiled to himself as he felt her trying to squirm away from him but he tightened the arm he’d sneaked over her during the night.

“Logan!” she hissed, “Get that away from me!” He chuckled, “Aw sweetheart, get what away from you?” He further pushed his luck by moving her hair aside and kissing her behind her ear.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You shivered, he’d kissed you somewhere you wished he hadn’t as it made you want to kiss him back so badly. You were very aware of his body pressed up against yours, how good he smelt, how good it felt to be lying there with him almost wrapped around you....

You’d better get him out of this bed before you made a catastrophically bad decision.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@obscurilicious @theshadowkingsqueen

#logan delos #logan delos x reader #logan delos fan fiction #ben barnes #westworld #logan delos imagine #logan delos fanfic

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 2.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death. if you are not comfortable with these warnings please dni. 

< previous chapter

   - Where are you going? - Miriam rose her head from the work bench as Y/N took her gloves and googles off, disposing of both in the yellow bin. - Y/N, where are you going? Don’t leave me alone with the trainees. 

    - I’m going to get dinner. No eating in the lab, remember?

    - Urgh, couldn’t you have gone to dinner when Michael was here? You’re leaving me alone with the trainees ... and the ask so many questions. - she whispered the last part, afraid the trainees would hear her and hit her over the head with their very heavy portfolios. - I’m going next.

    - Hour break, don’t you dare page me. - she pointed her finger menacingly at Miriam before clocking out and heading out for dinner. If they had told her during her sleepless nights spent revising for her least favourite modules the most exciting time of her shifts would be the bland food served by the hospital cafeteria, she would’ve just become a pharmaceutical researcher. Yet again, you need to start at the bottom if you want to get to the top and Y/N was more than ready to climb that moment.

She pressed the button for the lift, leaning against her own hand as she tried to wake herself up. Turns out studying and staying up all night applying for PhD projects and then coming to work at 7AM is not the way to go for energy. Luckily, the black tea she had drank this morning had managed to keep her awake, however the caffeine was starting to slowly leave her system and she still had a few more hours awaiting her. As she was about to fall asleep while waiting for the lift to make it to the lower floors, she heard her name being called out.

      - Y/N? - she looked to her side to see Peter standing next to her. They’ve known each other since freshers and if there was someone who was always wide awake during twenty four hour shifts it was him. He worked currently in the clinical biochemistry laboratory, mostly coming over to visit Y/N whenever they were working on cardiac infection cases together. - I looked at the file you gave me. CRP is actually present but quite low, could be recovery phase from an infection. My guess with abdominal pain would be a UTI. 

     - You reckon it hit recovery phase by itself? 

     - Listen, some pharmacy assistant might’ve given him antibiotics. Who knows but I’d get a urine analysis, do some cultures and see how’s it going but from my point of view, it’s in recovery phase. 

    - You’re a superstar, Peter. - she hugged him just as the lift doors opened. - You’re going up?

    - Yeah, it’s dinner time. I think they’re serving meatballs today. Exciting stuff. - the two stepped onto the lift. - Miriam said Dr. Stan came down today. You’re still giving him hell?

    - I am not giving him hell. He’s just constantly sending samples either mislabelled or misplaced and he expects me to lecture his nursing staff about it. 

    - I don’t know, Y/N. Back at university you spent 2 hours arguing an answer with a lecturer, I just think you like arguing. - he chuckled as the doors opened onto the floor where the cafeteria was. - Or maybe you like arguing with Dr. Stan. 

Before she could complain about the snide comment, Peter took to having a chat with a nurse he was particular sweet on leaving Y/N with her mouth open ready to argue and a finger pointed at him. She rolled her eyes, collecting herself as she released her hair from the ponytail which held it safely high up so her scalp could rest for a few hours before it had to go back up. Walking into the green lit cafeteria, the room was filled with half asleep medical staff digging through the bland food like mindless zombies. She did not blame them, she too sometimes would switch off her brain during breaks but lately all the free time she had was dedicated to applications after applications, despite the fact she kept getting rejections every single day. 

The scientist grabbed a worn out plastic blue tray, getting a batch on weirdly shaped meatballs from the cafeteria lady as well as some odly too yellow noodles. Hey, it is food, her brain told her as she grabbed a diet Pepsi and a slice of apple pie which was the only eatable dessert around. 

     - Didn’t you owe me dinner?

     - You almost made me drop my tray. - she gave the resident doctor a dirty look, gripping tighter onto the tray. - And I’ll be damned if I ever owe you dinner but I do have your blood culture results and we did sort out your weird infection case.

      - It is not my infection case. 

     - Fine, your patient’s infection case. God heavens if any interns knew that you had an infection, that way they wouldn’t fawn over you. - she rolled her eyes at him, setting her tray in the first table she came over. He did the same, placing his tray right in front of hers before sitting in the metal chair with a cocky grin.  - Go away, I’ll send over the report to your office. 

      - Have you not figured it out yet and trying to buy yourself more time? Or are you trying to escape the dinner date you set up with me?

      - That might work on your interns but not on me, Stan. Besides, it is an infection.

       - But there’s no worrying levels CRP besides, what about the abdominal pain? Surely CRP and white blood cells would be off the roof. 

       - Okay, since you probably missed Biochemistry in med school I will explain it to you. The CRP levels are high during initial phases and lower down during resolve. Your patient is probably on recovery phase already. Recovery means it is fixing itself. Do you need me to explain CRP to you?

     - If you pulled that out with any other doctor, you would’ve gotten told off.

     - Other doctors don’t ask me stupid questions. - she pointed her fork at him. - Dr. Mackie never sends the samples in the wrong vials. 

     - What about the blood cultures?

     - Congratulations, Dr. Your patient is not septic. It’s most likely localised but I’d suggest ordering some X-rays if you wanna localise where it actually is. I wash my hands of your troubles. - she shrugged, wrapping her fork in the spaghetti laying on her plate. - Need anything else, Dr. Stan?

      - I remember being promised a dinner date.

      - You should get your ears checked, the only thing I promised you was data and you’re lucky I also gave you a data ana ... - the scientist was interrupted by her pager beeping loudly against her belt. She grumbled, looking down at her belt with a look that would scare  anyone. - Duty calls.

       - How convenient it went off now. 

       - Unlike you, Dr. Stan, I have a team to lead.

       - Sounds complicated, Y/N. You sure you don’t need a babysitter?

She turned around as she was about to leave, raising his middle finger at him before rushing down the hall as her pager beeped uncontrollably. So much for not paging her during dinner time. Someone better be dying, she thought to herself as she slide her card into the door slot to get access. What she came in contact with was not what she was expecting from a laboratory of trained professionals. Miriam was holding one of the trainees head forward whose nose was bleeding all over her worktop bench.

      - Miriam, what the fuck?

      - Don’t look at me. Thomas ... - she squinted at the boy whose head she was holding forward. - Started bleeding when he smelled the knee aspiration.

      - Oh no. - Y/N put some gloves on before walking over to the two. - Okay, Miriam call a code orange. I’ll take Thomas upstairs and get him sorted.

      - It’s so stinky.

      - I know. - Y/N handed them two cotton balls from the jar to her left. - Put  them up your nose.

What would be a day in the laboratory if a newbie didn’t either faint or got nose  bleeds from samples? Definitely not a day in her laboratory. She looked around the busy hospital grounds, trying to find any free, available nurses but they were all overworked. No wonder why, whenever midnight rolled around, people started coming in left and right from club brawls and the grounds were always a nightmare.

      - What you got there, Miss Y/L/N? Is this how you lead your team?

      - Fuck off, Stan. I do not have time to listen to your comments, I need to find a nurse.

      - What happened, kid? - Sebastian looked to the 19 year old medical laboratory assistant holding cotton against his nose. - Lab that bad? Come on, I’ll fix you up.   

      - Thanks. - she mumbled, following the two men into one of the free areas. Thomas sat on the table while Sebastian pulled up a chair to sit in, Y/N remaining up on her feet. 

      - So kid, what happened? Y/N rough you up too much?

      - He got a nosebleed from the smell of a knee fluid from an aspiration. - Y/N replied to him, much to Thomas delight who felt more than embarrassed about the situation he was in. - Is this what you’re doing now, Dr. Stan? Minor cases? Did the chief of medicine finally realised you’re unqualified?

      - No. - he spoke as he pointed out his light at the trainees nose, to look for any specific damage. - One of my patient’s in critical care but it seems to have stabilised for now at least. 

      - Oh ... sorry. What happened to them?

      - Sepsis. - he turned off the lights. - Listen kid, it’s nothing to bad. Just stay sat here and firmly pinch the soft part of your nose, just above your nostrils, for about 15 minutes. Don’t forget to lean forward and breathe through your mouth. Me or one of the nurses will come check on you after to see if it has improved but so far, so good.

     -  I’ll return to the lab. Page me when you’re ready to return, okay? - she gave the young starter a kind smile before pulling the curtains and letting him be. Unfortunately for her, Stan would not let her be. - Keep it.

     - How weak are your staff? How are they gonna react to when they actually see infected body parts?

     - I said keep it. - she crossed her arms, ready to leave and return to the laboratory until she remembered something. She turned around on her heel, passive aggressive smile on her lips as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - Also, Dr. Stan, the infected tissue samples you sent us had the wrong birthdate on them.

     - C’mon Y/N.

     - They’re on hold until you speak with the laboratory manager about them. Good luck.

He opened his mouth to fight with her but she had already gotten into the elevator. The rest of her shift was pretty uneventful with her and a few of her colleagues having to pick up the pace to get everything sorted before they left. Miriam and her fiance left first at 1AM leaving Y/N to count the minutes til 2 AM rolled around. Once the clock read 2AM, like a speeder, she was out of that laboratory and into the elevator before anyone could call her. Walking to her parking spot, the sky was dark, the lot light by harsh yellow barely brightening. As she walked over to the second handed baby blue Fiat 500, she noticed someone hunched over and sat on the top of a black new model Audi, smoke coming out from his cigarette. Normally, she would’ve just avoided it and gotten into her car to go home but the turquoise scrubs were much too familiar at this point.

    - Dr. Stan? - her boots hit the gravel as she stood just a few meters away from him. - Do they not teach you in medical school that smoking increases the chance of lung cancer?

    - Not now, Y/N. - no sarcastic remark? That was a new one. He threw the cigarette butt onto the ground once it was all over, feet rubbing it against the gravel. - Not now.

    - I thought your shift finished at 1:30? Pulling overtime hours? Someone needed your assistance? Death time?

    - My septic patient died. - she immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Death was not something she particularly dealt with. Surely, some results were awful, specially in cases of ultra resistant bacteria showing up in the blood but that’s what they were, results. She didn’t see the patient, in all honesty all she would know the patient would be by a barcode number. - Sepsis quickly lead to organ failure. I don’t understand ... she was getting better.

    - Sepsis is unpredictable. You did the best you could do. 

    - And you’d know? All you do is be in the laboratory and do tests. What would you know about it?

    - Okay ... - she put her hands on her hips. - Are you on any antibiotics, prescription pain killers, sedative drugs, statins or any antidepressants?

     - I don’t see the point. 

     - The bar nearby has a discount for hospital staff. It’s only a five minute walk and everyone else is so miserable, you don’t feel bad about being miserable.

     - I’m not going to the bar in my scrubs, Y/N.

     - If you’re okay wearing those ... - she pointed at his scrubs. - Then you are okay wearing them at the bar.

She was right, the bar did look miserable. Not in a miserable way which would require regulation to shut down the place but miserable in a way one would just be at home wallowing in their pity with a pint of beer and right now that was all he needed. He sat in a sticky red booth, in front of her with a pint of beer while she picked a cocktail from the menu.

     - You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d come here.

     - And I’m not but they sell really cheap burgers at lunchtime. - she put her hand under her chin. - Besides, I’ve done this before.

     - When did you convince someone to come to the bar because their patient flat lined?

     - You know Dr. Liam Watts?

     - Surgery residency? I’ve heard about him before. - her lips tensed in a straight line as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - No. You’ve been here with Bucktooth Watts before? 

    - Yeah... even after he clearly needed support after he couldn’t save his first patient, he still decided to take me on a date here.

    - I’m sorry, you dated Bucktooth Watts? - he chuckled, downing whatever was left of his pint, signalling the bartender to bring him another one.

   - This is why we don’t hang out. He’s not bucktoothed. 

   - Sure, sure. I see the appeal, I mean over Christmas at least you have someone to cut the carrots. 

The night went onwards with a bunch of maybe irresponsible drinking. Y/N was two mojitos in and she was already tipsy and giggling like a school girl, not really used to drinking. Sebastian was in the same state as her, trying not to laugh at everything as they stepped outside to grab a taxi. At least both of them were conscious enough to decide not to drive.

   - No, you did not get locked in the vroom cupboard during your residency. - she held her belly as she laughed.

   - I did and my senior doctor did not notice I was gone. I was stuck there for 5 hours.

   - Oh god. - she held herself against the wall. - I always knew you were a clutz. You know, you’re the only doctor who hasn’t told off his nurses about the blood  bottles.  

   - Can I tell you a secret? - he whispered mid laughter. - I am afraid of them.

   - Oh my god. - she held her hand on his shoulder covering her mouth with the other one. - See, this is why I constantly argue with you. You’re soft, doctor.

   - Arguing with you is the best part of my day. You look really hot when you’re telling me off.

   - You look terrible when I tell you off. - the two of them stopped laughing, looking into each other eyes for the first time since they’d been out of the laboratory. Maybe it was the alcohol but at that moment, the best idea to the two of them was to lean towards each other, his hands grasping each side of her waist as they connected the space between them, getting together into a hot long kiss.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan doctor au #doctor!sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

[fanficimagery]

‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 1

Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn't care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part One]

GIF courtesy of @daebom + Original GIF Post

Words: 6.5K Warnings: I have no idea what this is. I wanted just a quick little scene where the boys are taking care of a sick S/O and it turned into this. Fml. Sorry for their OOC-ness.

With summer officially here, your girl friends are more than ready to prowl the boardwalk in their skimpiest of outfits. Out of the five of you, you were the only one who preferred to actually be covered up. You didn't care to flash any skin if you weren't soaking up the rays on the beach and your friends didn't care to attempt any makeover since it was less competition for them.

And really, there was no competition at all. You were a little on the short side whereas your friends were all long-legged, thin beauties. You honestly wouldn't be surprised if a couple of them ended up in a magazine, that's how pretty they were. But you were comfortable in your own skin and didn't mind the attention being on them. In fact, you preferred to be in the background and watch your friends do whatever it is they pleased. You were content to witness and laugh at their antics, and then be grateful you were the only one without regrets or a killer hangover the following day.

You were the only one out of your friend group to live alone, so it was really no surprise your house became ground zero for getting ready for a night out. And after making sure the girls had picked up after themselves, we're not animals, ladies!, you piled into one car and sped off.

"So what's the plan?" Emily asks, already twirling a piece of her blonde hair around a finger as she eyes a couple of tourists walking by. She winks when they give her a double take. "If we're scoping out some boys, I can't mess up my hair on any of the rides."

Rolling your eyes, you let the girls pass you up and then walk behind them as they figure out what the night is going to entail. Booth after booth, each working individual calls out in order to grab your group's attention in order to play their game or buy their merchandise.

"Hold it." Ruby practically flings her arms out at her sides, stalling Jessica and Becca. "The boys are all alone and ripe for the picking."

Mentally chuckling, you let your girls ogle them from afar and then quickly fix themselves up. The boys in question are four bikers that basically run the boardwalk. David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul. Ever since your girls had realized what babes the rebels actually were, they'd made it their mission to nab each one for a night of fun. But for as long as you've seen them prowling the boardwalk, not once had you caught them all alone. Not until tonight.

Ruby, all dark hair and red painted lips, takes the lead in all her sultry glory. Emily and Jessica follow, their heels clicking against the wooden boardwalk as they giggle back and forth to each other, and Becca- coy, innocent looking Becca- brings up the rear. For some reason, Becca was the one who had the highest chance of bringing in their targets.

You stay several feet behind them, chuckling when Becca glances over her shoulder and wrinkles her nose cutely at the one you've come to know as Marko. When he elbows Paul and Paul wolf whistles, you know the girls have them hook, line, and sinker. "Every time," you mumble, shaking your head in amusement.

As you're passing up the boys, something makes you look in their direction. Paul and Marko are calling out rather suggestive comments to your friends, but David and Dwayne are both staring at you. Your small smile briefly falters at the intensity of their stares, but you're quick to shake off the odd feeling you were suddenly overwhelmed with. Instead, you timidly nod in greeting before quickly looking forward once more to catch up to your girls.

"Oh my god. Do you hear them?!" Jessica gushes, her red hair framing her face in waves. "Tonight's the night, girls. I can feel it."

"Keys," you immediately say, holding a hand out. "You girls do you, but I am not letting you assholes abandon me if you get lucky." Emily smirks, readily handing over the keys. "And if you strike out, I'll be heading back towards the car around midnight. Wait around for me or catch a ride home. If I get to the car and no one is there, I'll sit around for thirty minutes before calling it a night and then you're shit out of luck. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mom," all four of your friends muse.

"Good. Now go have fun," you say, shooing them away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"But you wouldn't do anything," Ruby mockingly pouts. "And we want to do everything."

"Of course you do," you sigh. "You girls are my favorite sluts after all. Now go before I decide to lecture you instead."

All four girls cackle before taking a path back towards the way they came, intent on catching the boys' attention once more in hopes of drawing them in. You shake your head at them as they disappear and set off to hit up a few particular booths. You've got some spending cash on you and you plan to buy yourself a few things you'd been eyeing for almost a month now.

Wandering the boardwalk, you dodge some rambunctious teens and slide past the more unsavory individuals of Santa Carla. You manage to find some of the t-shirts you'd been wanting and even a few patches to add to your bag back home. Then after snagging yourself a Cola, you walk over to a table and take a seat to do some people watching. You waste some time doing just that, smiling hesitantly when you accidentally catch a gaze or three.

You haven't seen your friends or the boys, so you figure they actually did get lucky. But it was still a little too early for your liking, so you bought tickets for some of the rides. You got on the Ferris Wheel, riding solo and enjoying the peace of the night. On the Tilt-O-Whirl you partnered up with a little girl who'd been nervous to ride alone and her mother had been grateful for it. In fact she had been so grateful that she asked if you were with someone because her little girl wanted to get on the roller coaster, but didn't want to do so alone. And since you weren't busy at all, you made the kid's night by making sure she didn't have to ride alone after jogging real quick back to the car to drop off your purchases.

By the time the mother/daughter duo were done for the night, you wanted one last ride on the carousel before calling it a night for yourself. So after ripping off the exact amount of tickets you'd need for two rides on the carousel, you then handed the rest to a couple of teens who were still having the time of their lives.

You told the carousel operator you'd be going around twice and since you've done this numerous times he nodded to let you know he understood. And though you really want to sit atop of one of the horses, you're alone and don't want to look like a complete idiot. So choosing one of the sleigh seats, you sit with your back against the arm rest and stretch your legs out across the seat so no one dares sit with you.

The carousel music starts before the ride starts to slowly spin and you settle in. You don't know what it is about this particular ride, but it's soothing to you and you tiredly smile at everyone around you who are giggling and enjoying themselves. The ride spins for a couple of minutes before slowing to a complete stop and letting off the riders in order to make room for the next batch. But you remain seated, one arm draped along the backrest of the seat and the other along the arm rest as you twist your upper torso just so. You let your head fall back, eyes closing for a few seconds as the carousel rocks from the people jumping on and off.

Suddenly your legs are being lifted and then dropped into what obviously feels like someone's lap, and you lift your head quickly, ready to tell someone off. But your anger quickly fades into shock at the sight of a familiar blonde who is now laughing at your gaping expression. Paul. Someone looms over you just to your left, behind the sleight seat, and you barely manage to suppress a squeak at the stoic looking Dwayne. His dark eyes sparkle, but his expression remains neutral. Marko is behind Paul, draped over a horse as he smirks and wiggles his fingers in a childish wave.

"Wha-" Fingers caress your right cheek from behind, sliding towards your ear to tuck some loose hair behind there. You flinch and then glance over your shoulder. David's blue eyes are intense as he stares down at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Um. Hi?" You wonder, rubbing at your cheek with your shoulder. You move to take your legs out of Paul's lap, but he lays an arm over your thighs to keep you in place. He grins and you sigh. "What do you want?"

"Can't a couple of guys be friendly, chica?"

"Sure, but you guys aren't known for exactly being friendly. Are you, Paul?"

Marko ooh's as Paul's grin widens, but it's the voice above you that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well now you have us at unfair advantage, sweetheart. You seem to know us, but we have no idea who you are."

The carousel music starts and the ride starts to spin again. You tilt your head backwards so you're staring at David upside down. "Because that's the way I prefer it." His expression briefly falters and you slowly grin at him. "But since you've now been acquainted with my girls, I'm assuming it's only a matter of time before they drag you to my house or try to get us all to hang out. So in that case, I'm Y/N."

"Your girls, huh?" David drawls. "Then why weren't you with them when they attempted to get us alone under the boardwalk?"

You snort. Of course they'd jump straight to sexing them up.

"Yeah, girl, why not? You'd have probably made for better company."

Your eyes subtly widen as you then quickly give Paul your attention. "Better company? You've got to be joking. They're the definition of everyone's type!"

"And what about you?"

You briefly falter. "What about me? I'm just- I'm the mom friend." You shrug. "But instead of making sure they're behaving, I send my little horndogs off to have fun and make sure they have a ride home at the end of the night if they need it."

"Now that doesn't seem fair at all." The back of David's knuckles runs along your cheek and you move out of reach. The other two blondes chuckle. "Your friends were great and all, but they lacked a little.. something."

Dwayne huffs. "Yeah. A brain."

"Hey!" You frown up at the brunette, fighting off a smile because as much as you loved your friends you knew they were a little sidetracked when sex was on the brain. Your shoulders slump and you sigh. "At least tell me you let them down easy? They've been trying to get you all in the sack for weeks."

Paul smirks. "We know."

The carousel comes to a stop and as you move to get up, the boys don't let you go far. David smirks and takes the lead, and Paul immediately slings arm around your shoulders to make you follow him. Marko saunters at your other side and Dwayne is only a step behind you.

"That dark haired one was a bit mean," Marko suddenly says. "Ruby I think her name was?"

"Yeah." You grimace. "Ruby and Becca are the dark haired ones, but Becca does just fine with rejection. She'll laugh it off and still consider you a friend. You guys are lucky Ruby and Jessica weren't drunk. They're mean when they don't get what they want."

Paul laughs and squeezes you closer to his side. "Dwayne and David held their own just fine. And besides, your girls found another group to entertain themselves with."

"Oh good. At least now I don't have to hear them complain about not being di-" You pause, staring at the motorcycles they've led you to. "Leaving so soon? I figured you boys were the type to stay up all night."

David smirks as he straddles his bike. "We are."

"What do you say, chica? Wanna go for a ride?" Paul jostles you before letting you go, only to hop on his own bike. Dwayne and Marko are much calmer as they straddle theirs, though Marko joins Paul in practically bouncing in his seat.

You gulp and slowly inch backward. "Uh, raincheck? I was actually about to head home after riding the carousel."

"Boo. Live a little," Paul says. "Have some of that spirit you were friends were showing us earlier."

Your smile dims just a little at being compared to them, but you quickly squash the feeling. "Sorry, bub. If you wanted a good time, you were better off with the girls." You take a few steps backward, shrugging. "I'll see you around. My bed's calling my name."

Paul and Marko do their best to keep you with them just a little bit longer, but Dwayne and David watch you go with carefully guarded expressions.

Ever since you were introduced to the boys, it seemed like they were suddenly everywhere at the boardwalk. The girls didn't take their rejection personally, so it was only a matter of time before they realized that at least one of them had caught and held the boys' attention.

The girls left you alone to pursue a hopeful one night stand? The boys would find you and make sure you had a fun night yourself.

You trailed after your friends who were clutching onto someone's arm as they were won prize after prize? Marko would show up out of the blue with a prize half your size and a smug smirk when the girls would gape at his sudden appearance and disappearance.

Your friends chose the wrong crowd to hang out with? David, Dwayne, and Marko were immediately there to deal with the situation if you or your girls couldn't handle it yourselves.

Paul would endlessly flirt whenever your group would pass by, but the comments and stares were now directed at you.

Their attention solely on you didn't go unnoticed and your girls couldn't be more ecstatic for you. Normally you'd glare and reject any flirtations with a roll of your eyes, but day by day the boys wore you down to the point you'd laugh and smile at their antics. The girls were under the impression something was going on, but to you the boys were just annoyingly passing the time.

However, you couldn't help but notice how David watched you like a hawk to make sure no one was giving you a hard time. Dwayne would stand as close as possible without touching and didn't particularly like when other boys attempted to catch your attention. Marko liked to drag you onto rides and was always the one to offer dinner, and Paul liked to touch to see exactly where on your body was accessible to him. He was the most handsy of the four and thought it was hilarious when you'd punch him if he touched any spot you were ticklish. Lately though he took to slipping a hand in your back pocket when you least expected it and kissing your cheek when you yelped in surprise before running off.

Your friends were adamant that the boys were seriously into you, but you weren't so sure. They still looked and flirted with various females that crossed their paths, even as you sat there next to them and watched on in amusement.

They were the best looking guys you'd seen in Santa Carla, so surely they couldn't be interested in you like your girls kept saying they were.

Being sick is a rare occurrence, but being so sick that you're flat out miserable is even rarer. You're normally good at taking care of yourself and getting back into tip-top shape in no time, but the flu is really kicking your ass this time around. It also doesn't help that the AC's working to keep your apartment cool aren't doing that well of a job. Well they are, but your body is doing it's best to sweat the virus out of itself and you're just plain miserable.

With your hair tied up in a loose bun to keep it off the back of your neck, you've been so overly heated that you opted to lounge around in a sports bra and a pair of cotton shorts that you normally just sleep in because they're so small. But here you are, laid up in bed as you watch TV.

There's a knock on your front door and you groan, not wanting to get up and greet anyone. And besides, all your friends knew you were sick so they were staying away. A minute passes and then another, more urgent knock sounds. You groan again, but get up to find out who's disturbing you when all you want is to be left alone.

Stumbling through the hallway and living room, you make it to the front door just as a third knock sounds.

"What?" You grumble after yanking open the door. Four familiar boys stare right back at you, two of those gazes immediately dropping to take in all the skin on display. Dwayne frowns at you, but there's a- dare you say it?- spark of concern in David's expression.

"You weren't on the boardwalk," David says. "Becca told us where we could find you."

You wrinkle your nose at him. "Did she also tell you I was sick and in no shape for visitors?"

"Oh, babe." Paul leers. "You're in the best shape. Is this," he gestures to your body, "what you've been hiding under those band tees and plaid shirts?"

"I hate you," you deadpan. Marko cackles and even Dwayne's lips twitch in amusement. You smile tiredly, but then grimace in pain. "Guys, I'm gross, I'm tired, and I'm miserable. You know exactly where I'm at now, so can I please crawl back into my bed and die in peace? Yes? Okay, bye."

David's hand stops the door from entirely closing on them. You groan and whimper, moments away from just crying with how miserable you feel. The door swings back open and the back of David's hand is immediately on your forehead. Automatically you swat him away, but then realize a moment later that it actually felt good. He was cold.

"When was the last time you took medicine?" David wonders, smirking when you grab his hand and hold it to your cheek next.

You hum as you sigh in relief. "Medicine? What's that?" You attempt to joke. When you meet his no-nonsense expression, you frown and reluctantly drop his hand. "I either pay for food and medicine or pay to keep a roof over my head. Guess which one I prioritized."

David glances over his shoulder, and Paul and Marko stare at him before taking off without a word. You frown as you watch them go, but then David and Dwayne are pushing their way into your apartment. "You're running too hot," David tells you. "You need to cool off. Now."

"I know that, dad, but I literally can't stand for too long. You're lucky I'm even still standing right now." Without warning, a now jacket-less Dwayne picks you up with one arm behind your shoulders and the other under your knees. You yelp as your hands settle on his shoulder, but when you realize his body is as cold as David's hand felt, you melt. "Oh. Oh that's nice." Dwayne chuckles and David smirks behind his back, and you lay your head on his shoulder before nuzzling in towards the crook of his neck. "If any of you get sick, it's your fault. You should have left when you had the chance."

"Don't worry about us." Dwayne's voice is low, his chest rumbling as he talks. "We don't get sick."

"Mhm. You say that now." Dwayne lowers you gently onto your bed and you raise an eyebrow at him as he climbs in next to you. You gulp as he then lays down and stretches his arm out, and you take it as an invite to drape your upper half across his chest. He curls one arm beneath his head and the other around your back, and it takes everything in you to not completely wrap yourself around him. "God you feel so good," you mumble as you let your eyes fall shut.

David chuckles. "I don't think any of us have heard that without-"

"Shush!" You feel the bed dip behind you, but are too comfortable to move and look at him. "I just replayed that in my head and realized how it sounded. Don't tell Paul."

Both boys chuckle, but then quiet down after a few seconds. You sigh as your body finally relaxes and you moan quietly when Dwayne starts to run his fingers up and down your spine. He's abnormally cold, but right now you don't give a damn because he feels great against your feverish body.

"You need to take better care of yourself," David says. "You look out for those girls of yours all the time, so the least they could do is return the favor."

"As much as they like to appear independent, they're not," you mumble. "Medicine is expensive and I'm not about to put that on my friends or their parents. I can handle a week of being sick. It's fine."

"Is it?" Dwayne drawls. "You're awfully clingy for a sick person."

"I'm sick, you assholes. Baby me."

They find amusement in your whining and Dwayne squeezes you a little tighter. But David continues to talk. "So all your friends live with their parents, except for you. Why is that?"

"We're estranged," you say. "Lived with my aunt and got a job as soon as I was able to. Then I graduated and moved out with the cash I saved."

"You still talk to this aunt?"

"No. We kept in contact for a few months, but then we each got our own lives. The only people I have are the girls."

"And us," Dwayne rumbles. "You have us."

"You're adorable. Now shush. Watch TV and let me sleep."

David and Dwayne finally go quiet then, but you know they've listened because the TV volume lowers and you can hear the channels changing. They settle on some program and you can finally feel yourself drifting off into a promising sleep.

It's apparently not a deep sleep because semi-loud noises startle you awake once more. When you lift your head to stare around the room, Marko is frozen next to Dwayne as he shows him a couple different boxes of medicine. You blink at him and then stare towards the end of the bed where Paul's eyes are directed to one spot, and one spot only.

"Damn, girl. You should wear these shorts more often." Of course he's staring at your ass. "Are you wearing underwear because if you lift your leg just a little bit higher-"

"Paul!" You snort and then grimace in pain, lowering your head back onto Dwayne's chest. "I have on underwear, okay? You're not gonna get a peek at the goods no matter how hard you stare."

"Bummer." He then holds up a brown paper bag, his gaze meeting yours. "Got some chicken soup and crackers for you. Sit up so you can eat and then take the medicine."

"What?" You're surprised they got you both food and medicine, and slowly move to sit up against the headboard. Dwayne follows, and soon enough you're sitting between both Dwayne and David in your bed. "I was only joking when I said to baby me."

"Yeah? Well too bad," David says. "You need to break your fever. Now eat a little something, shower, and then take the fever reducer."

David seems actually pretty serious about this, so after holding his gaze for a moment too long you give in. You don't mention you actually hate eating in bed and watch on in mild amusement as Dwayne and Marko juggle the now opened soup container and a sleeve of crackers while trying to figure out a way to hand it all to you without spilling anything.

"There's a lap tray under the sink in the kitchen." You take pity on Marko and his shoulders sag in relief. "And can you bring me a glass of water?" Marko does quick work of retrieving what you've asked for and then you're stretching out your legs in front of you as Dwayne sets everything up in your lap for you. You sigh as you take hold of the plastic spoon to scoop up the first mouthful and pray your stomach doesn't revolt while the boys are with you. When you take the first bite and quietly groan at the taste, your gaze darts around to the four boys who are staring at you. "Please do something other than watch me eat. This is weird."

Paul immediately pushes off your dresser to start rummaging through your drawers, Marko busies himself with your bookshelf, David starts channel surfing, and when you glance at Dwayne he has his eyes closed. Paul's a little overexcited and you can't find it in you to reprimand him because you did tell him to do something.

You eat slow, nibbling on a cracker here and there between spoonfuls of chicken broth and noodles. David even steals a cracker or two, but his gaze never leaves the TV so he never sees you grin every time he does it.

"Hey. Sick patch," Marko suddenly muses. "Where'd you get it?" In his hand is the patch depicting a skeleton mid-headbang, his skeletal hand showing the sign of the horns.

"It was a gift," you tell him, smiling fondly. "A while back I ran into a little girl who was scared to get on rides alone, so I rode with her for about an hour. Her mother was really grateful and I ran into them again a couple days later on the boardwalk. They saw my bag, the girl fell in love with all the patches, and she conned her mom into buying me a new one to show her thanks." Marko's interest is suddenly piqued and you can see him subtly glancing around. And given his own love of patches, you guess he's looking for your bag. "My bag's in the closet."

Paul joins Marko at your closet then and you finally lean back against your headboard, done with eating. Dwayne takes the tray off your lap to take into the kitchen, but you keep your glass of water to sip. You smile when Marko finds your bag, commenting on the patchwork and about a few patches he hadn't seen before.

"You feeling strong enough to stand in the shower?"

You look over at David, who's more than at ease lounging in your bed, and shrug. "Only one way to find out." You hand him your glass of water and crawl out through the spot Dwayne had vacated. Standing on shaky legs, you hesitantly walk back and forth, and then grin up at David. "Yeah. I should be fine."

He nods. "Take the medicine now, then after you shower you can relax."

From the corner of your eye you see Paul make a beeline for your dresser. "Oh I know the perfect outfit."

"Out of the underwear drawer, you d-hole!" Dwayne re-enters the room, smacking Paul upside the head and shutting the drawer he had just opened. You smile at him in thanks and then quietly chuckle at the blonde's pout. "If you calm down and stop looking at me like that, you can pick out a fresh set of exactly what I'm wearing. And yes that includes the underwear." He perks up at that and you roll your eyes. "Top drawer for the underwear, second for the sports bra, and the very bottom for pajama shorts." As Paul takes his time choosing the perfect underwear, you glance back at Marko who's caressing a few patches on your bag. You sigh. "Hey, Marko. There's a shoe box at the top of my closet to the right. It's filled with patches. Have fun choosing the five you want." Immediately your bag is dropped and he's reaching for the shelf inside your closet.

"You know you just made their night's, right?" Dwayne asks. When you glance at him, you're surprised to see he had your first dose of medicine ready for you to take.

"I needed to get rid of some patches and I have a feeling Paul would end up in my underwear drawer the second the shower turned on, so.." You take the medicine from him, tossing two pills into your mouth and swallowing them down with a mouthful of water.

Dwayne nods and then lowers his voice. "Is there anywhere in particular you want Paul to stay out of?" You're about to tell him no, but then your eyes unwillingly dart to your bedside drawer. You gulp, your face flames, and you pray your face is already red from fever otherwise Dwayne is going to know exactly what you're hiding. When you meet his amused gaze and small smirk, you quietly groan. He definitely knows. "Got it," he says rather than teasing you about it.

Clothes are then shoved into your hands and Paul winks at you. "Your selection of underwear is phenomenal. I did not expect all that lace."

You don't bother with a reply and head out into the hall as he snickers at your back, taking a left to the bathroom. Once you're hidden behind the closed door, you turn the water on cool in the shower and then allow yourself to just breathe. It's been a while since anyone bothered to actually look after you and now having four boys, who are insanely attractive in their own ways, take up that job is a little mind boggling. But before you can think anymore on it and what their motives could be, if they had any, your back twinges in pain and you start to undress.

You're not sure how long you actually take in the shower, but you know it must've been quite some time in order for Marko to knock on the door and ask if everything was okay. A couple minutes after that you finally exit the shower, slowly dressing and doing your best to towel dry your hair. Giving up, you walk out and make your way back into your bedroom.

The boys have dragged chairs into your room, only one of them now lounging in bed. Paul has shed his jacket and boots, stretched out in your bed with both hands tucked beneath his head and ankles crossed. He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you huff a brief laugh.

"Better?" David asks.

Shrugging, you look towards him. "I don't feel so gross now, but I'm still sleepy."

"Then sleep. We'll wake you in four hours for your next dose of medicine and then leave after that."

You open your mouth to argue, but his deadpan expression lets you know it's pointless to argue. So just going with the flow, you shrug and toss your towel into the corner hamper. Crawling into bed, you tiredly grin at Paul who's likely hoping for you to cuddle up to him like you did to Dwayne. But your hair is damp, so instead you settle next to him. He dramatically gasps, but you sit there to gather your hair in hand before twisting it into an untied bun and then lay down on it so it's not all over the place.

"Well then fine," Paul huffs. "I'll just cuddle you instead."

Already knowing he means it, you lay your arm out in invitation. He's so much larger than you, however, that he opts to lay on his stomach directly next to you. His right arm drapes over your stomach and tucks beneath your waist, and his face nestles in the crook of your neck. You freeze, especially when you can feel hot breath against your skin, and only relax when he seems to be behaving. "This is not how friends cuddle," you mumble, "but you're so cold I don't even care."

David and Dwayne both smirk, and Marko hides his amusement behind a fist as he chews on his thumbnail. "Good." Paul's voice is muffled against your neck. "Because we've been trying for days, weeks if I'm honest, to get you to notice we're trying to be more than just your friends."

"W-What?" You squeak. Your heart immediately starts to pound and you're suddenly self conscious about the way Paul is wrapped around you.

"We were sure you'd have noticed by now or your girls would have said something," Marko says.

"I- I mean they have," you stammer, "but.. what? Why? I'm not- I'm just.."

"You're different," Dwayne says. You blink in surprise at him. "You noticed us, but you didn't throw yourself at us."

"You also weren't intimidated by us, so that was a plus." Marko perks up in his chair. "Have you really not noticed? I mean Paul started groping you and Dwayne glared at that one guy who asked for your number until he walked off."

"Yeah, but that's just Paul. He flirts with anything that has a heartbeat." The three boys chuckle at your still astonished expression and Paul nuzzles your neck with a hum. He doesn't deny it. "And Dwayne.. I kind of guessed he was into me," you frown, "but I convinced myself that his actions were of the protective brother sort."

"Oh he was protective alright. Just not brotherly." Paul's lips and breath so close to your neck makes you shiver, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others. Paul too if him pulling you ever closer to his body is any indication. The tip of his nose runs along your neck and you find yourself subconsciously tilting your head to the side. "Even sick you smell so good."

Dwayne, David, and Marko all tense, their gazes darting to where Paul's face is hidden. You chuckle nervously, trying to push him away with your head, only to quietly moan when you feel the flat of his tongue sweep across your skin.

"Paul!" David barks.

Startling, you get your wits about you and push Paul away. He looks a little dazed when he glances around and then offers you a sheepish smile. "O-Okay," you shakily say, "out. Your cuddling privileges are over for the night."

"Aw. Come on, babe."

"Nope. I'm too sick for that right now."

Marko laughs as Paul slinks out of the bed and then quickly takes up the vacated spot for himself. He ends up almost in the exact position, only his head lands on your chest and his arm wraps around the tops of your thighs so his hand is tucked beneath your legs. You sigh as his cold skin cools off yours.

Marko lasts exactly eleven minutes before the hand under your thigh shifts upward to your butt and squeezes. You sigh and poke his shoulder. "Out. You're as bad as Paul." He laughs, not even bothering to deny it.

Paul and Marko high five one another, and you frown as you attempt to shift into a more comfortable position. You watch Dwayne with suspicious eyes as he slides into bed once more, but then give him the benefit of the doubt when he lets you cuddle up to him instead. Once you're comfortable with your head on his chest and arm over his stomach, you're finally able to fall asleep once more when his hand settles in your hair instead of somewhere on your own body.

The next time you're woken up it's because you feel a little overheated once again. You groan as you stretch out and realize a moment later you're not cuddled up to anyone. Frowning, you also realize that there's a black coat covering you. You shove the coat down towards your lap and glance around your room, only to find David staring at you in amusement from the edge of your bed.

"Sleep well?"

"Mhm. This yours?" You ask, gesturing to the coat. He smiles and nods. "Where is everyone?"

"We need to get going." You sit up and notice then that he's got your next dose of medicine waiting for you, and a glass of water. "We'll be busy later tonight, but we'll be back tomorrow evening. Keep taking your medicine and we'll see you soon."

After David hands you the medicine and water, he stands to pull on his coat. You slide out of bed to stand in front of him and nervously shift from foot to foot. "Thank you," you mumble. "For everything."

"Don't mention it, sweetheart." David raises his hand, fingertips caressing your cheek before tucking what no doubt is wild hair behind your ear. You grimace and then reach up to smooth it down yourself. "Listen. About earlier, the boys might have crossed a line. You're sick and we kind of dropped a bomb on you about all four of us being interested in you."

"Oh." You will yourself to not blush. "I, um, it's fine. It's kind of shocking, but I'm actually-"

"Interested?" David raises an eyebrow at you.

You shrug. "Who wouldn't be? But you guys seriously picked the worst time to bluntly tell me you liked me."

"You were taking too long to catch on."

You shake your head in amusement at him. "Fair enough." Sighing, you then nod towards your door. "I'll walk you out."

"It's fine. You get back into bed." His hand raises and latches onto the back of your neck, and he brings you so his cold lips press to your feverish forehead. "We'll be back before you know it." Then without another word, David whirls around and exits your bedroom.

A few moments later and you can hear your front door opening and closing. You're left blinking at nothing but thin air and when you notice it's just after three in the morning, you numbly crawl back into bed. The entire night, the parts where you were awake, had been nuts and you can't help but attempt to go over every interaction you've ever had with the boys. You try to pinpoint exactly when their friendly interactions turned into something more, but a sudden throb behind your eyes has you groaning.

Tomorrow. You'll figure it out tomorrow.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #imagine #fanficimagery #david #dwayne #marko #paul

[rodeoxqueen]

AWAS

CHAPTER ONE: BE NOT AFRAID 

“Dante and Vergil return from Hell to tie up loose ends from their year-long absence. While they seek a sense of normalcy, the fates send them anything but.”

Contents: Violence, Blood and Gore, Brotherly Banter, Explicit Language, Slight Angst 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

I'm very excited to show y'all what I have been working on since hell, November of 2020. Thank you kindly for sticking around.

Back to the present, where the world turned on its axis for months without the weight of the blood of Sparda upon itself, the tides had changed.

In the midnight, had the stars laid witness to the damn near impossible. A portal had opened from the underworld, and two brothers stumbled out. Clutching their swords, Dante and Vergil reunited with the human realm.

How long had it been? Of endless violence and humorous quips thrown at the other, as the years of the gnashing of teeth smoothened the rough patches of their disjointed childhoods?

“We’re back, Verg.” Dante chuckled, arm over his brother’s shoulder.

“We are.” Vergil echoed. The obnoxious weight fell off of him and landed on the ground with a thud.

Dante had got on his knees and kissed the earth that they now stood on.

“Don’t be a fool,” Vergil said, staring at the moon. After years of wanting to become one with Hell, he tilted the false king’s crown to admire the clear sky.

Dante rolled to the ground, sighing in relief.

“We’re back.” He repeated. His brother nudged him with the Yamato.

“Get up. We must find our way back.” Eyes closed and a grin across his face, Dante let the wind pass through his bloodied and matted hair.

“Now we sound like a real team.” Vergil scoffed.

After a few moments, Dante got back up. They had arrived back from Hell to a cliffside overlooking a city that was not Redgrave.

“I assume you have unfinished business in Redgrave.” Dante nodded.

“I sure do.”

The portal became a forgotten relic, the Sparda brothers nowhere to be seen, their demonic presence known to the world.

Dante was known for many things, but mainly for how much of a constant he had remained in everyone’s lives. Never changing, staying the same as he was, an unstoppable force of sarcastic expression.

And also a huge manchild.

Vergil rubbed his temples in frustration.

“Dante. When I referred to unfinished business, I was clearly referring to your shop.”

“Yeah? And I was referring to this.” Dante bit into another slice of pizza, practically moaning.

Vergil sat ramrod straight, sitting awkwardly in a pizzeria. The two were the elephants in the room, both slathered in demonic gore and toting swords. People either gawked or left the establishment.

“You are still an idiot after all this time.”

“Yeah, and I’m also still hungry.”

“Surely your business is more important than this.”

“Meh.”

The blue devil waited for him to finish an hour later, the long-held bill lengthening after months of his absence.

Of course, he had to have indulged a few pieces of his own. It was nothing like the gaminess of demon flesh he had forced himself to sustain upon. It was almost melting in his mouth, unlike the resistance of the shank of a demon. He was never one for vegetables as a child, Dante even more so. Yet the crunch of the toppings was well-received to Vergil, deprived of basic human sustenance for a few odd decades.

However, he found it unthinkable Dante would continue to indulge himself in this for as long as he did.

The door reopened and closed once more to reveal the broad daylight of the streets. Clean, pristine, the sounds of cars and people filled in the crisp air.

Vergil’s boots walked upon a paved road for the first time in ages, man-made and unassuming concrete with stubborn weeds growing from the crevices. No mouth-having crimson blooms that grew to a man’s height. Just simple creatures that fell softly to his weight on their fragile stems.

He had never been here before, where Dante claimed to be his home.

“What’s after this for you, Vergil?” Dante asked his brother, swiping a few demons out of his way.

Vergil, also in his triggered form, huffed a dismissive sigh.

“You know, you should stay with me. Devil May Cry’s always got a spare couch to crash on.”

“Why would I do that?” He slashed a horned devil in two, spewed in putrid green blood. Dante chuckled, knowing there was hesitance in his voice.

“Because I’m offering, big brother. When’s the last time you’ve had a place to call home?”

“I believe you know the answer to that question.” Vergil slid onto his knees under a crouching demon, disemboweling it from top-down. A final gunshot rang his ears, a noise he had to get used to with Dante’s reliance on firearms.

Dull thuds and a flash of red, Dante stood above his brother, offering a now-human hand.

The horde was cleared away like dust on a counter, gone with the wind. Vergil and Dante stood in silence, two children again.

The younger pulled his brother up, insistent stubbornness in his eyes.

“I didn’t hear a no to my offer, Vergil.” Vergil sighed, releasing his hold of his brother’s hand.

“You did not hear a yes either.” Dante chuckled, following his already-leaving brother.

From the past to the present, Vergil’s answer had been neither, never spoken of what he was to do after everything. Yet here he was, now the latter of the two when it came to guidance.

There were many ways the two could have made their entrance to Devil May Cry and have it be a smooth transition back from months of Hell. Dante kicking down the door with a loud “I’m back baby!” was simply not one of them.

Vergil saw that a familiar dark-haired woman was sitting on the desk, absent-mindedly waiting for Trish to return. A girl who once blamed him for her father’s corruption, now a woman with no heed to his presence.

Lady had dropped her nail file, eyes wide at the sight of the two brothers.

“Dante,” Lady whispered as if she was greeting a ghost.

“Yep, it’s me. In the flesh.”

“Dante…”

“Did you miss me? Love what you did to the place.” Dante commented at the cleaned-up shop.

Her face of still confusion warped into anger.

“Dante!”

“Oh boy.”

The next thing he knows, Vergil watches his brother get lectured like a dog. Standing up yet with the attitude of a man in a fetal position, Dante let himself become used to the sound of their tirades once more.

“You had the audacity to give the deed to Morrison. Crazy bitches?! Really!” Dante shrugged.

“I mean if I barked up your tree all day you’d be calling me a-”

“Hey, Lady.” Trish walked into the shop, icily glancing at the two brothers.

“Look at what the hellhound dragged in.” Lady pointed to Dante and Vergil.

“Oh please, I could smell them from a mile away.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Hell doesn’t have any spas. Shame we couldn’t freshen ourselves up before coming here.” Dante sassed. Trish gave a pointed look.

“As much as it was nice to do some hot girl things, we could put Dumb and Dumber to good work.”

“What are you talking about?”

Lady gave a toothy smile.

“How do you think we got this place managed? Money. Money that you now owe us.”

“Hey! I never said you had to do anything.”

“You’d be real upset if we didn’t do anything either, Dante.”

Finally, after sitting through an eternity of harsh words and steep bills, Dante had more than ever landed himself in shambles. Again. At least he was liberated to take a shower. After Vergil of course.

He was surprised to find that the water was still running, and even more elated that it was hot water. Man, maybe paying the bills was a good thing. It felt like ages of grime and gore had been swept off his skin, his hair finally a familiar stark white. In the steam of the bathroom, he breathed out relief.

When he stepped out, he was surprised to see Vergil laying on his bed completely asleep. Usually uptight and composed, Vergil curled in on himself wearing some of Dante’s clean sweatpants that caught dust from all the months they were gone.

With a smile on his face, Dante chose the couch for once and didn’t complain.

They all deserved rest, Dante taking his nap with a magazine on his face. Future Dante could deal with this.

He never expected there to be any neater ends than the frayed knots he left in his human affairs. Yet, he wasn’t alone this time. Neither of them was.

The next few days, Dante gave his nephew a call. Well, more like Nero called him and Dante finally picked up.

Vergil had gotten up after days of practical unconsciousness, foreign to the comfort of a bed, a place to stay, yet much obliged to remain where he laid.

He came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes still. Dante’s voice was muffled until he was in the same room, Dante speaking through the phone to his son.

“Hey, your old man’s here.” Vergil shook his head, having no interest to answer, yet Dante kept waving the phone in his face.

Taking the phone, Vergil heard his son take a breath.

“Hey, Vergil. Nice to see you back from Hell. Um, can’t imagine that was a fun time.” Nero said, unknowing of how to speak to his stranger of a father.

“Indeed.” Dante face-palmed, sitting with another one of his accursed magazines.

“Yeah, um. I have your book.”

“Hmm.” Nero sighed.

“Do you want it back? I’m coming over soon for business reasons.” A hint of desperation and embarrassment from Nero went over Vergil’s bedhead.

“That would suffice…”

“Alright-”

“Thank you, Nero.” Vergil blurted, seeing Dante mouth the words “say thank you.”

Nero stopped for a minute, a few moments of silence on Vergil’s side.

“No problem...Vergil. I got to go. Take care, alright?” Vergil hmmed as a response. The line went dead.

Dante’s grin immensely irritated Vergil, a man who was incapable of second-hand embarrassment.

“Stop that. Wipe that expression off your face. You wanted a conversation with me and Nero, there you have it.”

Dante propped his face up with his hand, a cat that ate the canary.

“Nah.”

Vergil growled in annoyance.

Unfortunately for Dante, and luckily for Vergil, bills had to be paid and jobs to be done. Morrison had arrived a few days later, pleased to see an old friend returned from the underworld. Walking in, he was barely surprised that the shop had returned to a pig-sty appearance.

“Morrison! Nice to see you again.” Dante welcomed, sitting at his desk. Vergil eyed the unfamiliar man, reading through a book.

“Got a new job for you boys. About time you got those girls off your backs about having your little vacation in Hell.” A familiar smell of cigar smoke traced the air, Dante leaning back on his chair, intrigued.

“So Morrison, what nasty demonic critters does this gig entail?” Dante asked, arms crossed.

“There’s a demon runnin’ around towns, causing a lot of trouble.” Morrison placed a photo down, blurred and poorly taken. Although, the grotesque purple skin and rippling eyes on its body didn’t leave much to admire.

“Huh,” Dante mumbled. Vergil examined the picture.

“I’ve never seen a demon like this before. Sure is ugly, though.” Dante noted, pointing at a flat and angular head, pallid yellow eyes that bulge out of its sockets on the sides, and needle-like teeth in multitudes.

“My sources say it’s been going North, the last town they passed was here. Just this morning. It’s making some distance, I’d get to it as soon as you can.” Morrison revealed a map, a red circle around a certain landmark.

“It’s scaring the shit out of people and causing some casualties to be contained.”

“Alright, we’ll take ‘em.” Dante stuck his hand out, expecting cash. Morrison tutted, patting Dante’s shoulder.

“You’ve been spoiled, Dante. Nah, you’re gonna bag this son of a bitch and then we can talk about payment.”

Dante groaned, taking the job. Morrison tipped his hat to Vergil. Vergil glared in return.

“It’s been nice catching up with you boys.” He called out, leaving the shop.

The door thudded as it shut, and the two were alone once more.

“Well, we just got our get-out-of-jail card. Come on, let’s get going.” Dante grunted.

“Must you complain about everything?” Vergil muttered.

Outside, it was late morning with a slight breeze. The familiar sounds of a motorcycle came to Vergil’s attention.

Dante had sat on Cavalier, expecting Vergil to get on.

“Must you rely on that garish thing?”

“It’s too bad you can’t fucking teleport somewhere you’ve never been. Get on the motorcycle.”

Dante patted the seat, Vergil obeying for once.

“Ready for your first job?”

“More than you are.”

They tore through the streets of Redgrave, going north.

The sun rose and started to fall, endless roads leading through towns and cities that paid them only a slight turn of their heads.

The map’s glaring red bullseye had become a dead-end of sorts, the two resorting to walking instead.

Redgrave had always felt muggy with the air of hell creatures around. Here, in this unmarked territory, it had felt clearer. But also more unsettling, the idea of a demon scuttling about more of an awful surprise.

They felt consumed by the empty streets, busted in windows, and vacated shops and residential places in their lonesome wandering.

Something before had wiped this location clean of humans, and now something else was lingering in its place.

“This area has been abandoned.” Vergil walked over giant cracks through the ground, leading to a deserted town.

“Not surprised,” Dante answered, thinking about a certain tree, “good thing we don’t have to deal with any more civilians.”

A buzz in his blood reminded Dante that something was certainly there. The alleys were a perfect spot for creatures to linger, waiting for prey.

As below, so above. A ringing through the air was quickly parried by steel. Dante’s sword stopped a shower of needles from stabbing him, a stray one cutting the side of his cheek. It jolted him as a creature bounded the rooftops of the buildings, a hulking mass of reptilian skin.

Vergil raced after the creature, having blocked all the assailant’s long-distance attacks. Claws dug through the tiles, running on all fours from rooftops to silently treading the paved roads.

It’s clearly after an objective.

Dante chased after the beast from the ground, firing shots at the agile demon. Vergil jumped buildings, gritting his teeth at the demon’s inherent ability to evade and attack back, dodging tail spikes.

The streets all lead to the town center, where a fountain long cleaved in two from giant roots, stood.

Dante and Vergil came across the demon, purple skin stretched over its pointed bones, facing a cloaked individual.

“Hey, pal-” Dante was shushed by Vergil, the two standing a distance away from the hunched-over beast, much taller than either of them when standing on its hind legs.

Neither of them had expected another person in this area, clearly an oddity in the shambles of civilization.

“Famulus. Servant of Raphael.” A rumbling growl echoed in the night in response.

“I’m obliged, filthy halfling.” It hissed, crouched over and leaning to leer to the monotonous voice.

“You will tell me where he is.”

“His brothers may have underestimated you, but my master has known of your presence. Sending his best, I, to exterminate you.”

The person said nothing, as all that was all that needed to be said.

“Looks like we found it’s been searching for,” Dante mentioned, alerting the attention of the formidable monster and unassuming humanoid.

Glazed-over eyes narrowed with bloodlust met the twins as they readied themselves for anything.

“I will bring Raphael the heads of Sparda, once I am done with you.”

The hooded stranger turned their head to the two. With their face void of any expression, the twins had no idea what to think of them.

A pulse went through the air, Dante and Vergil’s skin jolting at a sudden warm wave in the air. Milliseconds after, a rotating ring of golden energy rattled through the stones, passing through the spaces in the pavement that lead to Dante’s boots.

Vergil and Dante were thrown like ragdolls meters away by an unseen force, Dante hitting the ground twice and rolling to a stop as Vergil stuck a landing with the Yamato through the floor.

A golden sphere surrounded the bruise-colored demon and the humanoid, who cocked their head in a disinterested manner, glaring at the taller creature.

Dante touched the wall before them, warm and pulsing with life. Despite the magnitude, he noted how it didn’t seem to hurt him, only pushing back from his own applied pressure.

Vergil paid it no mind, conflict occurring right before their eyes.

Famulus lunged at the smaller person who dodged, hands grappling at a giant maw, throwing its body to the barrier.

Tail spikes unfurled and bristling, Famulus’ hackles rose.

On hind legs, the demon stood well-over the miscreant, who allowed the beast to come to them. No matter how fast Famulus struck, claws phased through the empty air where it expected pliant flesh. Even swipes of its giant tail between quick strikes and heavy blows had been easily dodged.

A rain shower of blade-like projectiles flew at them, their body dropping down to avoid several. Dozens stuck above where their head was, a near fatality.

A needle whistled as it was caught by a calloused hand, palm tightly wrapped around the quill aiming for their chest. Several had torn through their cloak, nearly pinning them to the ground. They let out a startled noise, moving themselves up.

Famulus ran at them, prepared to rip them apart while they were down. Surely a cowardly move than preferred, but a move nonetheless.

They whipped their head around, jaw gritted. The same clutched quill was thrown like a javelin straight into Famulus’ snout.

Pulsating pain and white-hot agony made the beast screech, purple flesh burnt and smoking.

They shook themselves free of any spikes, clad in ancient robes. Nothing a common human would wear now. Even a demon could tell something was off about this one creature in human skin.

This was no common miscreant come to place vengeance upon its master. Raphael had requested Famulus to obliterate this insect as if none of his lord’s underlings could defeat them.

You shall return them to their grave, Famulus. A low gravelly voice rang through the demon’s head, a present message. The snake-like eye in the middle of its forehead rolled back and returned when its master’s command became silent.

“Yes, I shall.”

The foe stiffened as if they had gotten the answer they had been looking for. Famulus knew that. And like the devil it was, it goaded their curiosity.

“You will never make it to my master’s domain. I will gnaw on your bones, putrid being.”

If only if Famulus knew that there was no goading a foe that was already plotting several paces ahead.

Lashing out, a meter-long arrow-like appendage was fired at them once more while the demon began to collect its true power from the air around it.

It missed the mark, sinking into the ground to have the intended target land upon the blunt end, balancing coyly. Several more jabbed at the barrier, sticking into the protective sphere as the cloaked being ducked and turned to avoid scythe-like claws and disemboweling long-distance attacks. Famulus struck a blow that surely meant death, supposedly cornering the prey, until they vanished in thin air. A hazy afterimage materialized and faded away, swiped into nothing.

Immediately, they appeared to the side of the demon, who just began to rear its head to perceive this teleportation.

Legs bent as they were parallel to the ground, they drop-kicked the reptilian brute, scaly skin rippling at the impact.

Famulus’s neck snapped the wrong way, letting out a moist creaking noise as the body stayed stubbornly rooted to the ground. Incapacitated, it could not stop the smaller fighter from leaping onto a begotten tail spike from the ceiling of the barrier, yanking it, and falling back down to its capitulum.

The hooked and jagged arrowhead bit through toughened flesh, securing them to the flat of its head, glowing hand pressing against the middle eye, the key to finding Raphael.

A once distinguished demon, Famulus lashed its head about like a common beast. The joints in its neck realigned, sickening crunches with each segment joined.

Pushing their energy into the convulsing eye, Famulus felt its connection to its lord become not of its own.

Paralyzed from the sensation of a pulling force, tugging away at flesh, and seeping their own life force into it, digging into its mind, Famulus’ muscles twitched and convulsed like an animal to be dissected.

Famulus snarled to itself.

The veins leading to the spike stuck in its head pulsed, conducting electricity straight to the open palm. A strained cry left their mouth as they relented their hold.

The final twist of its head thrashed them off to hit the ground.

Flashing images of a lair, of an iron throne, flashed through its mind.

Famulus had failed to hide his master’s location. And with that, its murderous intent grew.

Despite the finality of its fate, its tail swished with anger and boiling rage to either do the job or keel over in defeat.

The thief got up with little grace again.

Its many eyes had noticed the bloodstains within their cloaked form, old wounds from recent battles. There wasn’t much damage left for them to take.

No one could dodge the Mjölnir.

Dante felt the hairs on his arms stand at full attention. Brows crossed, the older Sparda swiped through bits of his hair that lilted up from their slicked-back position.

“Hey, do you feel that-”

A beam of dark lightning was emitted from Famulus’s tail, striking straight into the opponent’s chest, shards of pure energy slicing through the air with a symphony of cracks rattling the street. Several pebbles flitted off the earth, scorching hot.

The lightning was overpowering, the cries of the stricken muted, body curling to itself with arms stiffening at the chest.

Dante and Vergil both believed defeat was imminent, preparing to have to take out the demon themselves.

When the flashes of demonic power died down, Famulus had witnessed the impossible.

Even with the golden shroud having been faltered, the thunderstruck figure had not been smitten.

Famulus’s needle-tooth grin dropped at the turn of events, rearing back on all fours.

Black lightning danced off their skin, flickering yellow sparks onto the cobblestones.

“No one of that stature could be capable of such an atrocity, and still be human.” Vergil thought to himself.

Famulus was the strongest of the Pessulum litter, demons that nursed from the deadliest of storms to emerge the top of their species. The demon had killed bigger and stronger with less than it had exhibited today.

And now, this runt of a creature had stood against it with no fear, not even close to death? Taking its strongest attack with no problem?

A rush of fear chilled its electrified veins. Stories of the being, whispers amongst Raphael’s underlings, its master’s own grinding teeth at the news of his brothers and their sudden falling, proven true by the might of this mysterious being.

Famulus would live with no merit to his name, scorned by Raphael, seen as less by its inferiors.

“If that does not kill you then I will!” Famulus jumped, claws extended like scythes to slice flesh to ribbons.

Clumsily taking one step forward, tense arms fought back to form one hand pointing to the snout of the devil, the other to the skies.

The thunder was released from its subjugation, deafening annihilation.

A blinding beam of sheer gilden lightning shot right into the demon, many opaque eyes centering at the color of death. Through the other hand, thunderbolts went off like firecrackers into the atmosphere, exploding rapidly and chaotically.

“Holy shit,” Dante exclaimed, sparks dancing off the paved path and flittering in the air.

Vergil ground his heels to the ground, the frontward force of the explosion pushing against him.

The blow sank into purpled flesh, veins and nerves turned from putrid black to nearly white, keeping the demon trapped in the air, still positioned to pounce and disembowel. Famulus didn’t even make any noise, the renowned servant burned alive.

Seethingly hot, with the very air molecules shaking at the display, the twins watched skin and bone become ash and dust. Killed by one’s trump card.

Not even a fallen tail spike was left, the aftershocks settling the twice-over-cremated remains scattering to the wind.

The redirection of the lightning strike had taken a toll on the hooded figure, who straightened up shakily, face revealed for all to see.

A pair of eyes were two suns in the dead of night, a contrast to the light blue ones that perceived them.

Standing alone, centered by destroyed store windows and melted streetlights, they seemed impassive to their might. It was as if they weren’t just blasted with lightning, where their fabric was scorched the only evidence of the offense.

Dante and Vergil didn’t know what to do, not knowing if this person would attack them as well.

They stayed where they were, the moon right above their head, shining around their crown of messy hair.

“Be not afraid.”

Voice hoarse, their mouth moved differently than to the words they just called out.

Before the twins could think of anything to say, the figure beyond them collapsed.

Vergil was silent, still processing all of this. Who was this person? What were they looking for? Who was Raphael?

Dante rushed forward, heavy footsteps raising ashes from their resting place.

Vergil followed, the Yamato ready to be unleashed at any hesitation.

Dante turned them over, noting the strange force surrounding them had remained. As if someone larger was there.

A human face from under the worn, textile cloak greeted them, exhausted and at peace with unconsciousness.

Two lines dripped down their face from their nose. Bleeding crimson, a human above all. In-and-out, slow breaths moved their chest just enough to know they were alive.

“A half-demon?” Vergil questioned himself.

“If they killed the demon, do we have to split the cash with them?” Dante blurted. Vergil raised an eyebrow at the inquiry.

Before he could retort, Dante had lifted them, their stature dwarfed in strong arms.

“Let’s ask them when they wake up.”

“Dante, you are not bringing that thing back.”

“You’re right. I’m not. You are. Open a portal.” He said with a shit-eating grin.

Vergil reluctantly did so, the Yamato ripping open the fabric of space. He would regret this, he was sure of it.

#dante and vergil finally arrive #vergil x reader #dante x reader #devil may cry #vergil sparda #dante sparda #nero sparda #lady devil may cry #dmc trish #devil may cry series #series #AWAS

[jungwon-crush]

(1) home - enhypen

(listening to the song while reading the chapter is recommended~)

rolling green hills stood before me. i closed my eyes as i laid on the wet grass that dampened my hair, while cool breeze flew around my figure. i should appreciate this type of weather since winter is starting to approach, i thought to myself. i want to laze in autumn forever.

"byeooolll!!! byeol byeol byeol byeol byeol!!!!" a nasally voice exclaimed. i internally sighed at the call of my name. there goes my relaxation time.

i stood up from my position, whilst the setting sun gazed at me, and began to search for a hiding spot. i need to at least give him a hard time looking for me, as compensation for ruining my moments of being alone. i barely get the chance to be by myself in nature.

as i looked around, i finally found a shrub to conceal myself in. so, as quietly as i could, i made my way to the bush.

i attempted to place myself inside it, forgetting the fact that i was a complete eighteen year old.

"owww!" i quietly screamed to myself. even though i wore a lengthy brown skirt, i somehow managed to get pricked by a thorn on my right knee. i guess my kilt moved around a lot while i was trying to adjust my stance.

unanticipatedly, the same voice that yelled my name just a short time ago appeared behind me.

"wh-what are you trying to do? imagine being so stupi-"

"shut up, jungwon!" i turned around to see the boy staring at my situation. his two hands covered his mouth, as if he was struggling to hold in his laughter.

"i hope you know that you look like a cat stuck in a tree. except you're a really big cat and that's a very small tree." he giggled.

"oh, be quiet! if anything, you're the cat. now, get me out of here!"

to be honest, i did not need much assistance. i was just in the mood to bother the boy who kept snickering at my condition.

he sighed at my request. nonetheless, he continued to move towards me. his hands found his way to my waist, while i placed my own hands onto his shoulders to steady myself as he lifted me off the hedge. he then placed me back onto the moist grass that i was previously laying on.

once he let go of my frame, i started to dust off my skirt and shake off the coarse leaves on it. i suppose jungwon took that as a cue, because he began to brush the strands of grass out of my braided hair.

with a hue of pink spread on his cheeks, jungwon complained, "and you wonder why others assume that i am older than you! i really do need to stop babying you.."

i crossed my arms and stuck my tongue at him. in return, he mirrored my actions and ruffled my hair.

"it's already sunset, byeol. we should go back home before it gets dark." jungwon said as he forcibly took my hand and led me out of the plain.

i rolled my eyes, "i thought you said that you needed to stop babying me? come on wonnie, please let me stay here a little longer! you can go back home by yourself so heeseung doesn't get worried."

"i'm not leaving you alone in this area. why were you not at your house in the first place? everyone's noticed that lately, after school, you always seem to be out. these days, i constantly look out my window and expect you to be in your usual spot in the living room, but you're never there."

i tugged at the long sleeve of his button shirt, "i don't wanna talk about it, how'd you know i was in the pasture anyways?"

"jake told me he saw you coming here after he finished his classes, he sounded concerned so i came to look for you. and talking about it helps, you know that. i've never allowed you to bottle up your emotions, i've listened to every single word you've uttered since we were kids." jungwon glanced at me with hope written in his luminous eyes.

"i hate how persistent you are. are you like this around other people too? you should take care of yourself too, wonnie."

"don't change the subject. let it out, byeol."

when it comes to yang jungwon, i can never resist.

i huffed into the air, "my dad... he... he  told me he'd return to lutton last saturday, and now it's thursday a week later yet he's not back. he sent me a letter saying that he's still in the city, his boss asked him to work for an extra amount of days there."

"mr. sun's gone again?" jungwon questioned. he moved closer to me in order to put his left arm around my shoulders. i realized that he does this a lot, especially when he notices that someone is under stress.

"mhm," i replied dismally, "i don't blame you for not noticing though, whether he's in lutton or not, he's barely at home. i think we all know that ever since my mom died 6 years ago, my dad avoids staying at the house for too long because our place is filled with memories of her."

"he's been coping like that for too long, when will he come to his senses? does he ever consider the fact that his daughter has been going through a hard time too?" he commented as they reached a district near their neighborhood.

"wonnie, you know his excuse. he always pulls the 'i work hard because of you' card. i can't even argue with him about the issue because, like i said, he's never home. i just want to distract myself from him because this matter has been getting to me a lot. so, recently i've been wandering outside our community. i don't want to disturb you guys with my troubles as well. i don't like seeing you lot get constantly frustrated over my issues."

jungwon grumbled, "byeol, suddenly dissappearing makes us fuss more. we share our problems, remember? whether they're big or small - when niki's bike got stolen it wasn't only him who went looking for it. all of us put effort into finding out who robbed it. we all know that your father's always been... something else, which is why we're here for you. anyways, forget him, have you been sleeping alone? what have you been eating for dinner? most importantly, are you doing your homew-"

the moment those questions left his mouth, i immediately put my hands over his lips. "everytime i mention my dad being gone in a conversation, you start nagging! sometimes i wish you would stop talking."

jungwon let out a muffled,"im gonna lick you." accordingly, i placed my hands back to my side again.

the boy annoyingly flashed his middle finger towards my direction. however, he quickly stopped due to an old lady passing by who gave him a judgemental glare.

it was hard to hold in a sneer.

he hurriedly picked up the discussion again while he scratched the back of his neck, "you still didn't answer my questions."

"i've been surviving on instant noodles and spam."

"heeseung would approve, but i don't. so, you're gonna eat with us at sunghoon's tonight."

"i'm not gonna oppose that, sunghoon's mom makes the best carbona." my stomach rumbled at the thought of pasta.

jungwon screeched as a response, "i know right! and the garlic bread she makes too? she's a five star michelin in my eyes."

i nodded my head in agreement. we were nearing our vicinity already.

"moving on, what about sleep and homework, byeol?"

"i sleep just fine. i'll probably ask sunoo to stay over tonight though to help me with homework. thank god we're both in the same class this year."

i glimpsed at jungwon to see his reaction, but instead of wearing an accepting look, his brows were furrowed and he looked... displeased?

"i bet sunoo hasn't even done the homework, after school today he went to niki's house straight away. all they do is just watch recorded shows - i can help you instead." he suggested.

"trust me, sunoo did the work."

at this sentence, jungwon's tone became a bit more aggrivated, "how would you know?"

"he did the assignment in our study period while i was sleeping. i saw him finish it when i woke up. he sits directly in front of me, conveniant, isn't it?" i grinned.

jungwon answered with a disheartened mumble, "fine, byeol, you do you."

why's he so irritated about sunoo doing homework for once? i wondered, isn't it a good thing that he's finally starting to put effort in school?

due to me spacing out, i did not register that jungwon and i already arrived at our neighborhood.

after bidding goodbyes (the goodbyes being another lecture of how to take care of myself from jungwon because i am already a legal adult), jungwon reminded me to go to sunghoon's house for dinner. he was about to unlock his front door until i ran up to him and pulled his form into my arms.

his arms went stiff for a while, but they ended up finding a way around my lower back - like they always do. he placed his chin above my head, this way i was in the perfect position to nestle in his chest.

"in all seriousness though, thank you wonnie. for always taking care of me." i whispered.

he clicked his tongue, "there's no need to thank me, byeol. i know by now that my prescence is a blessing."

i chuckled while he played with my  tangled hair underneath the nightfall. his fingers intertwined between the locks, then he released me.

he gently pushed me using his shoulder and said, "now go change for dinner."

taglist: @wonwobbles 

a/n: hiii first chap!!! i kinda hate how i wrote this so i'll probably redo it when im free again djdjdj. anyways the rest of the characters will be introduced in the next chap <3

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen ff #enhypen x oc #enhypen x female oc #jake shim x oc #jungwon x oc #sunghoon x oc #sunki #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #enhypen fanfic #kpop writing #enhypen writers

[ahmedmootaz]

Magica is trapped in an alternate timeline where Scrooge never became the richest duck in the world.

I-It’s been five thousand years...but finally, finally, I have finished writing, @veryman ! It’s been around six months, and for that I am sorry, but I had little time to write lately.

Either way, I finished the prompt which you sent me, and I’d like it if you would tell me your feedback! I expanded a bit on what you gave me; I added Poe as a secondary protagonist, and I added a bit more before the disappearance of Scrooge, and I do hope you do not mind. But regardless, I am eager to hear your feedback! I appreciate every comment I get, so do leave one, please. Again, my sincerest apologies for the wait.

Here’s the story:https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333367

And for anyone who does not want to visit Archive of Our Own for whatever reason, here’s the story on Tumblr! Just note the italics don’t go over too well.

Mount Vesuvius was like a wonderfully drawn painting; it managed to capture many elements at once, and yet showed little of them at a time. Its grey, ash-covered surface was only stopped by the occasional greenery or shrubs, grown from the rain's puddles on its cliffs. A towering mountain, its silhouette gave a grandiose sense to the city it was in. The contrast between the calm forests below it and the harsh towering structure, like any great painting, only added to the beauty of the panorama it created.

And, of course, like any great painting, it hid a secret. A teeny, tiny secret, really; it was a volcano. With enough power to completely melt the colourful villages surrounding it, alongside the better part of Naples. No one often went to the top, as its unpredictable eruption patterns made it a dangerous venue. Besides, the summit was completely barren, with only the rare lizard or the few bushes up there. Only a madman would even think to consider it "hospitable."

Well, barring the small, comfortable looking wooden house on its top. That looked hospitable enough. Old and nearly falling apart, it was a miracle it didn't need supports at this point. It was as if it was held by magic. On this summit, there was nothing. A cold, harsh breeze that encouraged none to remain there, and the dead atmosphere certainly clashed against the small farm and the clothes left to dry in the sun. The unusual sight would perhaps intrigue a traveller who managed to get to the summit, but the few crashed cars next to the hut would probably dissuade them from going any further.

In this calm wasteland, where the air never relaxed, every second more tense than the last, silence reigned supreme, utoppab-

-"BWAHAHAHA! I did it, Poe! I did it! At last, I managed to brew the perfect potion! It'll finally give the Lucky Dime to its rightful owner, destroy my greatest enemy and make me the greatest sorceress on earth!", well, it was dominant for a moment, at least. The victory cries from this little abode came from none other than Magica DeSpell, the solitary sorceress who called it her home.

Standing before a large cauldron, a large potion-book beside her and several jars of materials arranged in a neat order on the table next to her, her joy was a sick, intoxicating one, filled with villainy and vengeance. On that table stood a raven, much larger than the average one, almost twice the size, with its only distinct feature being a small summer hat, black with a white stripe going around it.

-"Yes, very wonderful, Mistress Magica.", adding to the unusual situation, the raven spoke back, both admiring and giving the sorceress in front of him a reprobating glare. "Though I have to admit, it wasn't easy very much to gather the ingredients. We almost lost our lives three times too much getting these things...", he added, turning his neck to the pots and bottles of the materials they gathered throughout the month. The sorceress, however, appeared irritated.

-"Oh, for goodness' sake! We're alone, Ratface, why can't I call you by your real name? If you keep pestering me with that, then I'll have no choice but to keep reminding you of your awful grammar.", she complained, hunching her back a bit, an invisible pang of guilt hitting her chest for a second before she shook it off.

Magica DeSpell was known for many things, but guilt was, perhaps unsurprisingly, not one of them. It wasn't a trait preferred by Villainesses such as herself. An exception to that rule, however, was her brother, Poe. Or as he went by these days, Ratface.

Once a regular duck like her, he was the closest person she had left. He'd accompany her on pretty much anything, alongside her raids on Scrooge. One fateful day however, a spell ricocheted of a wall and hit him, and she never forgave herself since. It was supposed to hit a blank! But of course Scroogie had to have a mirror behind him...why wouldn't he? At this point, everything she did was always countered by him somehow...And of course the spell had to be an irreversible one. Why wouldn't it have been?

-"Well, this time he'll pay...", she mumbled to herself, having forgotten about the outside world for a second.

-"Hm?", the raven inquired, and when she ignored his curiosity, he gave a glare before speaking. "We must speak like this, Mistress, because otherwise we may end up revealing our identities by accident in front of someone who shouldn't them know.", he explained for the umpteenth time at this point, trying to redress his hat with his wings. It was difficult to get used to them at first, however, he eventually managed to somewhat use them as hands. "And we don't want these people to know, because they can black-mail us. And because I don't want anyone discover that now I am a raven.", he added, ignoring the mumbling from his 'master'.

-"Yes, yes. Whatever, Ratface. Besides, you don't get to lecture me; I am the boss-lady after all, eh?", she shot back, enjoying the eyes of her 'familiar' as they narrowed and his beak as he grit it.

-"While that may be true,", he started, a bit calmer than you'd expect, not wanting to lose this teasing contest, "I also have my rights to input my optional completely suggestions, boss-lady, and I believe they have been proven to be quite useful in the past.", he added, stopping for moment and looking at the sorceress in front of him, who fully turned to him and gave him a wide, fake grin.

-"Hmm...They're fine points, but is there something that reaaaaally to force me to listen to you?", she repeated, hoping to break his constant mantra of hiding his identity. Partly because she wanted to be able to call her brother...her brother, y'know, 'call a duck a duck' sort of deal, and partly to escape this guilt she felt by teasing him, trying to forget her guilt for the moment.

Poe wasn't one to care much what people thought of him. He was a man that went on his way and never looked back. Too many times, anyways. They were basically a dream-team until this stupid raven stuff happened. But now, ever since that incident, he merely avoided anyone who knew of his existence and kept this fake-name. She suspected it was out of shame, and it weighed heavy on her, trust her. She tried waving these thoughts away as she watched the bird in front of her almost simmer at this point.

-"B-Because, dearest mistress, me-am a bit older than you in raven-years, which gives me a-", he stopped his imminent rant, sniffing something in the air. "THE BREW!", he yelled, dragging the tall magician's attention and making her run to the pot, which was on a gas cooker. Hey, they had the old log-chimney pot, but they were modern magicians, and when they were pressed on time, it was simply easier than to collect logs or buy them. Freaking inflation and rising wood prices...

-"Alrightalrightalright, so now we...uh, the lizard tail, sewn with tarantula silk to a lizardfish tail, we put it in...", Magica mumbled to herself, picking up the ingredient and throwing it in. Trust her when she said tarantula silk wasn't cheap, but the results were going to be so, so worth it. "And we mix things up until it turns dark-blue.", she finished, bringing a wooden spoon and turning it in the boiling, sickly-yellow liquid.

-"That's it? No 'innocent's blood' this time?", the black bird next to her spoke as he moved closer to the pot. She shook her head, knowing where he was getting at. For some reason, a lot (a lot) of spells needed blood for one reason or another, and it often had to be 'pure duck blood'. It often was an issue for most accomplished sorcerers to find it, and despite it being an advantage to the pair, they didn't really enjoy sticking needles into their own arms and using their blood...

As he sighed, relieved at what meant that he wouldn't have to take a pinch of his blood this time, as they did alternate that role, he watched the viscous brew boil more ferociously, unnaturally strong as it started getting darker and darker while the duck brewing it kept stirring and stirring, carefully avoiding the splashing from the bubbles.

-"Alright, Ratface!", she announced as the potion's colours darkened in front of their eyes, her voice going low and becoming more and more sinister by the second, "This is the Magnum Opus of an entire month's work! The Bougeaia Autrepart!", she proudly boasted, a smile growing on her pale, green-ish face.

She quickly moved her hand to shut off the gas, probably waiting for the awe her partner-in-sharing-the-household would give her. Not that he did so much, as he wasn't one to be entirely surprised by her actions given his time with her, but when he did, it made all of her effort a lot more worth it, if only to see a dumbfounded expression on his face while she proudly explains her plan.

-"Very well. It is one of the most difficult potions a magician can make, and we have a quantity very large. It is perhaps one of our better devised plans.", he devilishly added, not really that surprised. She found it hard to blame him when they both worked for around 25 days to gather the ingredients and the money; somewhere down the line she must've told him. Or maybe he read up on what they were going to create.

-"Indeed it is, and now, hand me the doll, Ratface!", she commanded, raising a clenched fist for dramatic effect, He shook his head at the dramatic display and went to the other end of the table he stood on, picking up a small doll that vaguely resembled Scrooge McDuck  with his claw and handing it to his 'mistress'. "Just be a bit careful. It wasn't easy to make this thing.", she called out, cringing at the inelegant handling the raven gave the doll.

-"Oh, tell me about it. I was with you at the Hydra's lair, you know that? And I gathered half of the Mortal Sand we got there, so don't think I don't know how precious is this.", he complained, remembering something for a second, "Speaking of which, you never did make up for that hat I lost there.", he reprimanded, trying to cross his wings. He didn't have much success, but it looked good enough, and he couldn't ask for more, really.

-"Yeah, maybe later.", she ignored him, and before he could begin scolding her for the umpteenth time today, she picked up a ladle and started submerging it in this 'Bougeaia Autrepart.', taking care not to spill any on herself before she started coating the small doll in her hand with the liquid, watching as the dark blue colour got embedded in its cloth.

-"You know, I'd like a quick reminder on what we're doing here before we get started. Don't want another plan where I have to figure out the details as we go on, because those just work so wonderfully.", Ratface...or, well...Poe? Whatever, he asked, looking a bit worried as his sister laid the doll on the ground in a neat and clean corner or their household, one that was made for spells which required some space.

-"What, Alzheimer's gotten to you that quick?", she shot back at him, not daring to look at him before she finishes laying the doll on the ground. When she noticed he wasn't going to argue with her, she started explaining. "Honestly, we were just talking about it...but fine, here's the general outline: We both agreed that taking Scrooge is pretty difficult on its own, yes? So how about a world without Scrooge in the first place? The Bougeaia Autrepart is designed to move people into other places, but with some of the additions we've made, in combination with this little vodoo doll, it's going to be rather interesting, and we can remove Scrooge from this world!", she repeated the plan they'd agreed on, trying again for her dramatic accent.

-"Right, right. And we're just going to take the dime in his absence.", he completed, scratching his 'chin'. "I don't know, Ma- Uh, Mistress, our luck with reality-altering spells is pretty...", he hesitated, trying to find an accurate description of their experiences.

-"Is pretty much the definition of the word 'failure' in every single language on this earth?", she finished with him, somewhat bitterly.

-"Well, when you put it that way, I'll just have to agree.", he agreed, shrugging.

-"Yes, yes, I know, but trust me, this time this time, it'll be different!", she argued back, somewhat on the defensive. "See, this time, with Scrooge never actually in this world, it can't go back to bite us; we're not playing with the rules against Scrooge, he's not there in the first place.", she laughed, basking in the glory of her flawless plan. "...You're still not impressed, are you?", she narrowed her eyes as she stared at the raven, who seemed lost in thought.

-"I don't know...these things are so vaguely written in the books, and always it turns out to be un-complete. We practically re-wrote half of our tomes, remember?", as it turns out, several of the Elder Sorcerers were, believe it or not, villains, and trying to keep the most knowledge to themselves, their writings were often incomplete, especially the bigger spells. They had to applaud their tenacity at first, but a few failed plans later, it started becoming less interesting and more devastating.

-"Well, yes,", Magica admitted, looking at the floor for a moment, "But the worst possible thing that could happen here is it not working, or being temporary. It can't be that bad."

-"I mean...The offer of Scrooge just poof-ing away is tempting...And I can't think of a too terrible outcome...", he slowly came around, and the green-ish duck immediately jumped on the opportunity to convince him. Well, not so much convince him so much as it was to quickly to the spell before he starts thinking too much about it.

"See? You were just being stupid, But worry not, my dear familiar, I, Magica DeSpell, am not without mercy, and I will forgive this outrageous way of talking if you just help me do this spell as quickly as possible.", she proudly boasted, bringing a hand to rest on her chest. His blank stare gave her the impression that he wasn't all too impressed with her gloating. "Just come here and let me finish the recitation, alright?!", she snapped at him, having had enough of his cynical behaviour.

-"What, with these clothes? Shouldn't we prepare for something or-", he started, looking at her 'battle-clothes': her cloaked witch robe, stained with their various ingredients. But before he could even finish his sentence, she'd already turned to the wall, sat on her knees and opened her arms to both sides, as if she was awaiting an embrace.

-"Too late; I'm starting it now.", she turned her head back to him, sticking her tongue out for half a second and ignoring the 'Wait!' he produced. "O' sanguina del mon enemmi mortel, repondra O' appels que t'entendra, O' abyssum qu'attend, repond à ma voca!", she started the chant, immediately letting the room darken and letting loose some purple sparks from the lifeless doll, which started levitating. "Bring my greatest wish true; with the final words of my mouth, McDuck shall be gone like a moth!", she suddenly spoke, the doll spinning a bit too violently for her taste.

The room kept on darkening, and some of the pots and containers she had began to hit each other. Which was basically the same thing that happened with every other spell nowadays. It lost its original impact. Regardless, she felt Ratface beside her, and the doll started emanating even stronger sparks, making a dull, constant humming that kept getting louder and louder.

Her breathing got heavy for a moment, alongside her head, and she felt herself blacking out as if something was choking her. The air grew heavy for one fateful moment, and then with a 'zap', everything returned to normal. Her breathing suddenly cleared, and she took a deep breath to celebrate it. She noticed Ratface also took a gasp. Apparently, this one didn't just affect the caster, but the entire area. That was something they'd have to add to the spell book. She hoped there weren't too many others.

-"...That's it? Feels rather underwhelming, but maybe it's my experience with spells that affect the caster.", her brother suddenly managed out. Of course his first action after this would be bragging. Why wouldn't it?

-"Oh, zip it, feathers, I heard your panting. Bragging doesn't change the reality.", she looked at him as he felt his small hat and straightened his feathers, some of which had puffed out due to his quick breathing.

-"And so I shall, Mistress, O' queen of humility, if only the entire world is humble as you were!", he praised her, raising his wing up above him, as if to glorify the duck beside him. "Then you'll find out how terrible you are at boasting.", he added under his breath, a wide grin on his beak.

-"Oh why you...!", she got on her legs and reached for him, hoping to catch him, but he was faster than her, and his wings were infinitely more developed, and so he took to the skies...or, well, to their roof, avoiding her grasp and yet flying just out of reach. "Just wait until I've had my hands on you, you walking grammatical error! I'll pinch each and every one of your feathers off!", she yelled after him, shooting a few simplistic spells at him, which he avoided with ease.

-"Sure, blame the italian guy you forced to learn English in two weeks, typical.", he shot back, his wide grin still present, the only spells catching him barely grazing his tail. A few moments later, she gave up on de-feathering her brother, stopping to take her breath.

-"Oh, bugger off, you've had far more time to practice. You're just messing with me.", she countered, looking at him as he lightly flapped above her. She turned her head away from him with a frown and looked at the outside. Yep, still as sunny as ever. It wasn't really ideal weather for staying inside, but villainy did not take vacations!...Well, that was a lie, but she'd take one right after her great success with this plot. "The outside!", she suddenly yelled out, running for her door and opening it, walking onto her 'Welcome' mat before stopping and looking around.

-"Uh, Mistress?", her familiar said as he landed on her shoulder, something he'd been practising for a while now; he didn't hit her head anymore. "Is there something about the sun...?", he suggested, looking around him. The same small magical farm, their clothes were in the same position, and the same pile of crashed cars.

-"I don't know...Guess I thought there'd be some change, I guess.", she answered, scratching her head. "Which isn't that smart. Now what? How do we know if something's happened?", she asked him, turning back to enter her home.

-"...Probably from the bald, skinny vulture we have on our dart-board now.", her helper suddenly noted, and she turned her head to the wall where she had Scroogie's head on display. As a picture, unfortunately, but all in time. What interested her, however, was that her nemesis' picture's was now replaced by a vulture. An ugly one, too. And it's not like Scrooge was Mr.America, but this one had wrinkles.

-"What the heck? I thought the spell removed Scroogie from the world! What did that have to do with this chuckleschmuck?", she walked to the picture on their dart-board, focusing on their apparently new rival, who had a few darts scattered around various parts of his face.

-"Unless...", the raven on her shoulder started, bringing a wing to his face and trying to imitate a knuckled fist. "Unless it removed him from this timeline in first place, after, making someone else become the richest duck in the world. Or richest vulture in the world.", he theorized, his tone becoming a little too aggressive at the end. "Another addition to the tomes...", of course. It could never be that easy. Why would it be?

-"...Great.", well, at least she could openly complain about it this time, given that there was no warning of this beforehand. She brought a hand to her face and quietly facepalmed, shaking her head for a bit. "So we still have some old, ugly miser we have to take care of. And we don't have any memory of fighting this guy.", truly a situation that couldn't be envied. The one time the casters of the spell are unaffected by the changes to the world, it happens in a world where they'd do better to have some memories of the changes. Well, she couldn't say it was the worst thing a spell has hidden from them, truth be told, but still.

-"Well, what now?", ever the planner, the bird on her shoulder asked the only question that could be asked. He narrowed his eyes and extended his neck a bit from where it was, trying to read some writing underneath the picture. It used to scare Magica  a bit whenever he did that, now she mostly got used to it. Mostly. Stupid bird biology creeping her out. "What are we going to doing to this...Bradford Buzzard?", he squinted a bit, making out the letters. He then turned to their T.V. with a curious motion. "Ma-uh, Mistress, look."

As the green-feathered duck turned her head, she noticed something. They had stolen their T.V. from one of Scroogie's enterprises, mostly out of spite. But their current television had "Buzzard Enterprises" on it. Apparently, this vulture had truly inherited everything the old miser had, including their rage. She felt a slight tingling in her chest, but she ignored it to focus on the more important matters they had at hand now.

-"So, apparently we're struggling to get the dime from this old man?", well, considering they're not rich right now, and that Poe was still a raven, that meant they still had the same problems as they did with Scrooge. Not good, if you ask her.

-"And apparently he, too, managed to turn me into raven.", Ratface spat out, growing very, very bitter. Unsurprising, really; this 'Bradford' did not seem to be able to move much. How did he manage to turn Poe into a raven this time, then? "Besides, are we trying to get his dime? I'm certain not what we were doing in this timeline up to this point, and I don't suppose we've been writing our memoirs to help us out.", he...uh, he joked? Deadpanned? His tone wasn't too amused, by the looks of things. Not that she could blame him, given how things weren't quite going according to plan.

-"You tell me.", the sorceress sighed, not really in the mood for the demoralisation Poe could offer at this time. He didn't mean to be such a pessimist (probably), but his constant remarks didn't do much to improve the mood. Her eyes then spotted a small purple ball on the ingredients' table. It was a small teleportation spell, using some materials from the area where she wanted to go to, it was a nice substitute for those who both lacked the Teleportation branch of magic and didn't have time to travel by broom. "That's it!", she suddenly yelled, getting up and nearly dropping her brother off of her shoulder.

-"W-What's it? What are you-"

-"We'll go pay this Bradford a nice little visit, and we'll see what he's really made of! We already prepared to go to the Bin, what's the worst that could happen?", she encouraged both him and herself, picking up the teleportation spell to Scroogie's bin and another one back to her home, quickly pocketing them in her robe and scavenging for some offensive spells to take with her, alongside her Sumerian amulet, of course. "Do not answer that!", she warned her brother, earning a sceptical look. "Listen, we've seen almost everything from Scroogie, we'll see what we can do this time, and then...well, I don't know, but we'll manage!", she finished triumphantly, quickly putting on her heels and going out of her house, stopping mid-way through her throw of the teleportation spell. "...You're not convinced, are you?"

-"Are you?", well, he wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right, either. Everything deserved a shot. Even if that thing had a very small chance of working. Maybe. Probably. Listen, Magica DeSpell was many things, but she wasn't willing to give up now! She never did, perhaps to her own detriment, but it wasn't this old vulture that was going to stop her now, she fought against Scrooge McDuck, this was barely even a challenge!

-"Could you not rain on my parade for five minutes?", what was a challenge, was keeping Poe positive on this mission.

-"Alright, alright. Here we go, Mistress! Go get that fool!", he put on an enthusiastic façade, making the sorceress grin as she resumed her movement, throwing the spell on the ground with a large 'Bang!'. Aquamarine smoke came out and covered the area where they both stood, and when it was gone, so were the both of them.

Now, it was only a matter of time before they faced Bradford.

Bradford Buzzard was perhaps the single most boring person she'd ever had the displeasure of fighting.

It wasn't that he was difficult to fight against, oh no, in fact, she was surprised he managed to stop them for so long in this timeline, but he always played by the book! Not a single interesting move! He didn't boast, make dramatic moves, or do anything Scroogie did, really. All he did was avoid, dodge, and stand behind his fancy machines. Which...yeah, okay, it wasn't that bad, but he was terribly uninteresting to fight against. The Bin stayed in its regular shape, and so did most of Duckburg, though it had a bit of a fancier design when it came to buildings.

Regardless, Bradford didn't even try to seem interested. He always seemed (and most likely, was) always annoyed, always spiteful, and just...indifferent. He didn't care about anything she and Poe did, he just wanted it to end. His immediate reaction to their arrival wasn't to fight...it was to sigh and complain about how he didn't have time for them. Which wasn't only rude, but incredibly hurtful. He had no idea how much these teleportation spells cost, and she truly did her best to deliver a spectacular entrance to her foes. The least he could do was at least seem interested.

The worst part is that apparently, in this timeline, they had never plainly told him they needed his dime; they were after his fortune. Which she probably realized they did because they wanted a challenge, considering the fact that the moment they asked for the dime, he handed it over.

She was so dumbfounded at first that she thought it to be a prank. A trap, even. But no, apparently Bradford cared just as little about his first dime, talking about how "He can always make a copy." or some such thing. If she didn't know any better, she'd have said he was searching for an opportunity to get rid of it, and yet a quick curse-check from her part revealed no dangers. He was just...boring. And it's not that he was scared of their power, at least that might've made up for something, he just gave them the dime and told them to go off.

So there she was, back in her hut, Lucky Dime in hand, an unbelieving expression across her unfocused eyes as she sat on her television's couch, still trying to reflect on the events of the day, trying to see if she misunderstood a word or a euphemism from the vulture's monotonous voice. She found none.

-"I mean, it's been a while when we saw the Dime last, Mistress.", throughout the long silence, from their unceremonious return to them now sitting, unable to decide what comes next, this was the first thing Poe muttered. It wasn't bad as an encouragement, but it didn't quite catch Magica's attention, either.

-"Mhm.", she mumbled absently, not even opening her beak.

-"Sure, it wasn't as spectacular as we both thought, but that doesn't matter! Do you know what this means, Mistress? Do you know just how much power we have in our hands?!", now, Poe was known for many things following his unfortunate transformation, but optimism was not one of them. That actually made her turn some of her attention to him. "It's the end of the old-centuries rivalry between us DeSpells and the...Mc...Ducks...", he slowly realized, opening his eyes a bit more. It wasn't the fact that they had gotten the Dime so easily which was bothering Magica, it was that she didn't even know if it was worth it.

She spent little under fifty-five years fighting against Scroogie. At some point, both of them knew that there would be no Scrooge without Magica, and there would be no Magica without Scrooge. Every single victory she had in her life was directly or indirectly caused by a desire to earn revenge on Scrooge, he was her greatest goal, and defeating him would be her Magnum Opus. Years upon years of work, blood, tears...all for some vulture to hand this over.

-"...Is the Dime even useful now?", she muttered, her eyes going to Poe, pleading, almost unsure of her every word. He seemed to have gotten the gist of why this victory in particular was unsatisfying, but now he simply blinked at her, not wanting to cause her any grief. "I-I mean, why did we even go after his Dime in particular instead of killing him or...or whatever?", her voice shaky. She knew the answer. She always did. She just had to hear it from someone she could trust.

-"We wanted it because it was Scrooge's the most important coin; it was his first, imbued strong emotional attachment, and we could use that attachment for our magic, alongpart the hate we had for him.", he repeated their goal slowly, trying to get where this was going. "Using the immense power extracted from it, we would do as we pleased. We'd turn me back into a duck, turn stones into gold...its possibilities were endless.", he finished, the massive smile on his beak dropping for a bit.

Bradford had handed them the Dime without a hitch. If he had any attachment to the Dime, then it wasn't enough for him to care about it. This would mean the Dime was useless...it couldn't do them a thing, or if it could, then it was severely weakened. Even if it wasn't, it didn't...it didn't feel as if they earned it. Okay, this was stupid, since they were villains, after all, they weren't about being fair, but after all these years, having such an underwhelming encounter...it just left a sour taste in her mouth.

-"Who gives a flying duck?!", a groggy, loud caw was the answer she got to her suspicions. "So what, we had a disappointing enemy, we have the Dime of the richest du- vulture in the world! So what if it not has emotional attachment, we'll find another object with emotional attachment! Anything would be better than Scrooge!", he yelled, sensing the conflict his sister felt and trying to set the record straight. "Anything would be better than being stuck as a crow."

The speed with which she spun her head to him could perhaps snap many necks, but Magica didn't care for the pain in her neck so much as she focused on the bird on her shoulder. She knew exactly what he was getting at; Poe was stuck as a crow for nearly five years at this point. He never loved his situation for even a second ever since the accident with McDuck and his two ducklings. Throughout these years, he worked with her for the Dime less out of a general desire for villainy and a want to help her, he worked with her because he also wanted the Dime's power.

And now he probably feared she was going to throw all away, just because wanted a 'real' fight.

-"R-Ratface! How dare you suggest I'd do something like that!", she vehemently denied. She then resisted the urge to slap herself because she just admitted to something he was yet to accuse her off. She stared at him, the eye he turned at her undecipherable. He remained silent for a moment before speaking up.

-"Do you want us to talk, Magica?", he offered, and she looked surprised. He seldom called her by her real name, and it was often a sign she could call him by his. She swallowed before nodding, as if the word 'Yes' would take too much energy out of her. He nodded in return, jumping off of her shoulder and landing beside her. "What's the issue, Magica?"

-"It's...It's stupid. I know it is. You wouldn't approve, and I know you taught me that the only good victory is a quick and easy one, but...but...It's just so maddening, you know?", she began, hunching her back and turning her head to him, a twinge of uncertainty in her voice. "I spend all my life hunting Scrooge McDuck, wanting his head on my wall, and when I finally win, I don't even win against him. I don't even know if I got the right object in this world.", she complained, bringing her hands to her face and covering it. Her entire life was built on waiting for this one, singular moment! All of her moves, triumphs and losses. So why wasn't she satisfied?!

-"...I get what you're saying.", the raven replied after a moment, trying to understand her, apparently. "I get it. It feels as if we were robbed of our moment, doesn't it?", her sat down on the couch, trying his best to imitate a regular duck sitting. She hesitated before nodding, almost afraid of his answer. "...I cannot say it doesn't leave an undelicious taste, to be honest. We've worked so hard for this moment. And yet, what other choice do we have? What were you planning on doing? What do we have to gain from a Scrooge in this world?", he questioned, not with a hostile tone, but a rather intrigued one, as if he truly wanted to know more about this situation they found themselves in.

-"I- You know what? Forget it, we'll melt this dime and find the strongest emotional object here-"

-"Answers, Magica.", he firmly repeated, turning his head to her.

-"I don't know!", she yelled out, partly angry, partly anxious. "How should I know? I spent all of my life fighting Scroogie and I'm not even the one to take him out! It's all a stupid spell...And I can't bring him back, because this stupid spell will account for the past, and that means the source of our power, the one in my hand right now, would be gone.", she started laughing out of desperation, holding the Dime up in the air and trying to channel some energy into it. It emitted some energy, sure, but it wasn't as strong as you'd think or want. "And so would any of chance of turning you back to a duck since we'd need the power it grants for a chance at reversing back the irreversible...", she venomously spat out, frowning at her momentary meltdown and at the situation.

Magica DeSpell was known for many things, and losing control of herself was not one of them. It wasn't publicly known, anyways, but this...this mess was a whole new low. They'd failed before, but never before had they gone so horribly right, and they never found themselves in a situation where they had to ponder if bringing back their biggest enemy would be a good idea or not.

-"We could find another McDuck, Magie.", he tried soothing her, reserving his own thoughts for later. "Someone must've made it out there. Be it hero or villain, there must be someone like Scrooge. There have to have been.", he comforted her, trying to his best to rest his arm on her shoulder. Or his wing on her arm, in this case.

-"I know, Poe.", she sighed heavily, leaning a bit onto his arm before quickly rethinking that decision as he struggled against her weight. "But there's no Scrooge McDuck. There's always someone like him, but there's never the Scrooge McDuck.", she bitterly admitted. He was a worthy rival. Many had come and go, and most were able to face her again. Some couldn't continue on living, for that matter. All but Scrooge had fallen to her.

At first, she had only rage and fury for him, but as the years went on, she started to love their fights more and more, her schemes became more and more elaborate, her plans became works of art that she spent more time on than she cared to admit, and she invested so much emotion to her fight against him that seeing him gone in such an anti-climatic way was...depressing, honestly. Scrooge brought out her worst, in a way no one else could, and for that, she (secretly) thanked him; her worst was scarier than her on a rampage, and that didn't just say something, it spoke volumes.

-"So? You'll bring him back? Just because of that?", another caw, this one a bit more inquisitive and pushy. She tried looking the other direction. "Down here are my eyes, Magie.", he pushed her. She looked at him, a twinge of guilt in her eyes.

-"I don't know. We didn't do much in this world, y'know. We can live like this never happened.", she suggested, her voice a mere whisper. One that sounded like a yell in the dead silence in their home. Her brother kept staring, part sympathetic, part...was that sadness in his eyes?

-"Magica,", he began, trying to find his words, "We're villains. We're the worst people on God's green earth, and we care certainly not about who we hurt, maim, and kill. And when you're a villain, you fight against Karma and the universe magically siding with your enemies, not mention having to work with The Evil Overlord List to keep everything in check.", he explained to her, his eyes never leaving her. "It's not about who we're fighting. I just want a world without Scrooge. How bad can whoever replaced him be?", he begged, stopping for a moment before adding, "My freedom could be a battle away."

Well, he was certainly making the choice easy, wasn't he. So? So what? Does she just leave her brother to suffer? The one, and so far, only man to stay with her for all of her life? Just for another rival? She prided herself on being heartless, but this...She didn't know anymore.

What was her happiness anymore? Could she not find happiness without her endless fight with Scroogie? Who was she? Her own independent person, or merely a shadow in Scrooge's massive figure, never to step out from under it? What was her life? An endless chase for a goal which she could only achieve in one way, lest she render it underwhelming for her? She's been building up the moment so much, for so long, and she sacrificed everything to have it. Everyone. Was the chase she started what defined her? Or had Scroogie won without realizing, making her little more than another person swallowed by the ever-greedy monster that was his shadow?

-"I don't...I don't know, Poe.", she hitched, suddenly realizing that this wasn't good for her figure. Not at all. She suppressed any emotional instinct in her body and brought her knees to her chest, resting her head on them. "I don't know what to do anymore. All this chase...All this madness. And I never won.", she closed her eyes, sensing a bit of a stinging sensation and trying to block it. "And when I did, I still lost.", alright, she wasn't going to speak now. Her voice was dangerously close to cracking.

-"You're wrong. You've won several times, and were -still are- Scrooge's most dangerous foe for years. Several set-backs, sure, but all great people have set-backs.", he started brushing his wing against her arm, not really able to pat. She interrupted him before he could speak further.

-"Isn't it funny? The day I win, I can't even be happy. I need Scroogie to be happy. Laughable, isn't it? I'm becoming less and less my own person. Just a planet in a star's orbit. My own shadow is slipping out from under me and becoming his.", she lamented, her hitches a bit more noticeable.

-"Then reign your shadow back in! You're Magica DeSpell, for goodness' sake! Control it, make be it yours!", the raven stood on his two feet, trying his best to be considerate. He was making her happier, sure, but he was not so truthful, was he?

-"...Maybe. I'm...I'm sorry about this Poe. This...idiocy. I guess I'm not as sturdy as I thought myself to be.", she sniffed again, looking at him as he stared back.

-"Nobody is. We all think we're invincible at one point. The only thing that matters is getting back up. Bigger, better, badder.", his voice lowered, and the pure devilishness in it was infectious. She smiled a weak smile, and he returned it in kind. "So, when are we going back to our timeline?", he suddenly questioned, and she opened her eyes wide at his question.

-"You...You're okay with it...?"

-"If I said I was, you'd know I'm lying. But it's not the biggest issue, either. This dime isn't solve my issue anytime soon with its power like that. And we have no real other target at this point. So it wasn't that close to me. I hope.", he explained himself, trying to have an air of dignity before swallowing and continuing, "...Since we're being truthful here, I won't say that this doesn't feels like a wasted opportunity. I've long dreamed of a world without Scrooge, but to tell the truth, someone like Scrooge will probably as be annoying as Scrooge. Probably.", he concluded, some of the sadness in his eyes washing away. He removed his eyes from Magica for a moment, looking at the ceiling.

-"I...And leave you as a crow? Do you have any idea what you're saying?!", she refuted the idea, earning a quick glance. "No, I...I shouldn't...I can't do this! We have to find the closest thing that'll help you! We must!", she started panicking, trying for once to think of him more. He smiled and rubbed her arm again.

-"Primarily, I am a raven. And I thought you were a heartless, selfish villainess? Or do we need to spend more time learning how to be proper villains?", he tried easing her worries away, a teasing tone in his voice for a moment before he cleared it. "Listen, Magica, whatever happens, one of us isn't getting what they want. If we go back to our timeline, there's always a chance we'll get Scrooge. A chance we'll find some other solution. If we stay here, there then won't ever being another McDuck.", he explained to her, his voice calm and collected, trying his best to keep her calm. "And you'd better do it when I'm in a good mood, because I'm sure this will bite my tail sometime later.", he added, deciding that perhaps some pressure is needed.

-"But-"

-"NOW!", he ordered her, and she jumped, surprised from his cry, heading to where she'd first preformed her spell, hastily picking up the Scrooge doll and covering it with more Bougeia Autrepart, setting it on the ground where it once stood.

-"O' sanguina del mon enemmi mortel, repondra O' appels que t'entendra, O' abyssum qu'attend, repond à ma voca!", she repeated the same chanting she said this morning, waiting as the puppet levitated once more and sensing her brother come beside her. "Bring Scrooge McDuck back and reset this timeline on the right track!", she cried out, letting the doll emit sparks once more, the spinning a bit faster than the first time they cast it.

The same suffocating sensation they felt this morning soon filled their house, forcing them to wait as the constant 'zaps' and 'bangs' started whittling down. It wasn't any more pleasant than it was the first time, but at least they anticipated it. A few painful moments later, their breathing regained its regular pace, and their house started becoming more illuminated.

-"...Ugh...", the small black bird on the ground tried holding his head between his hands as he stared immediately at the wall behind him. Yep. Scrooge was back alright. "We really need to find a spell that counters harmful effects from other spells. I don't think I want to keep do this...", he complained, allowing their home to bask in the silence for a moment. Even the air had stopped its continual blow for a moment. A moment of peace wasn't rare when the pair of them were both adults, but the whole 'evil magic' thing didn't also allow for too much peace.

Then there was a sob.

It wasn't a particularly sad sob. Particularly pained, either. It was simply reigned. Defeated. When he turned back, the green-ish duck was still on her knees, her hand covering her eyes, emitting another sob every few moments before interrupting it with a quick chuckle. He gave her the moment; no need to be pushy now. He already knew what was bothering her.

-"I guess...I guess I really am a screw-up...", she mumbled between her hitches. "Fifty years and I cannot get a  dime. Fifty years and I've also grown attached to winning by one single method...I'm hopeless, Poe. Hopeless.", she ended solemnly, not showing her face, afraid of even worse humiliation if she was shedding tears.

-"No."

-"Stop it. You're the best person I could ask for now, but lying won't make me better.", she bitterly refuted, making her hand leave her face as she tried tucking the threads of hair that made their way to her eyes away.

-"Then what will?"

-"I don't know! Winning? Not being a failure? Something along those lines! I've been working my bum off for years, playing off every failure as a learning experience, but it's too much. I've had it. I just want to win for once. Is that too much?", indeed, Magica DeSpell was not known for making such emotional rants, and yet, everyone had moments when they snapped. She just needed to let some steam off. That's all.

-"I meaning, we are villains. Winning isn't really something we do often.", well, he was certainly keeping his realist tendencies. That was fun. "...I don't know Magica. I wish I had some magical answer to tell you, but there really isn't. We're back to square one.", he stated as a matter-of-fact, quickly picking up the pace before she could reply, "But that doesn't matter. You're Magica DeSpell! Sorceress of the Shadows, Empress of Napoli, and my favourite little sister. You'll push through. Somehow, against all possible odds and against your better judgement, you'll rise up again. You always did.", he resumed, an encouraging tone in his voice. He held his had high, looking the sorceress in the eye. She seemed touched.

-"Poe...that was...Absolute malarkey.", she admitted, chuckling with him. "But you know what? I'll take it.", she laughed, opening her arms for a moment as the raven in front of her understood what she wanted and opened his wings. A small moment ensued before she went down and gave her brother a quick hug. A silent one, and those were rare, so he'd better cherish it. because she wasn't planning on giving much more of them. "Alright, that's enough."

-"Aw, and here I thought you were going to showing some more affection to me.", well, it wasn't that she didn't love him, but disregarding the rare outburst of emotion, she never showed much emotion to her brother. He, on the other hand, didn't try to hide it. At least, before the whole raven business. And now she was sad again. She snapped out of her internal thoughts when she noticed he perched himself on the couch, almost as if waiting for her to come closer. "So, what's the plan now, Mistress?"

-"The plan?", oh, right. A plan. A plan to reclaim herself. To try and fight against this feeling of hopelessness. "I'd...I want to try and train my Shadow Magic a bit more. Perhaps having more control over my shadow will make me get in a better place. It can serve me, and it's the most loyal helper I'll probably ever get.", she mumbled, earning a disapproving glance. "Besides you, of course.", she added, and the glance went away. "Besides, shouldn't you be a cold-hearted, uncaring villain? Why do you care whether or not I consider you loyal?"

-"No, I meant the plan to get rid from Scrooge. Or to win over him. Or any other plan.", oh, so that was how it was going to be? Now he was going to ignore her questions. We'll see about that, Mr. Tough Guy. We'll see. She wiped her eyes, making sure there wasn't anything in them.

-"Hey, when did your English improve all of a sudden? And why didn't the cracks show when we faced Bradford? Are you really sure you're just having some difficulties? Because I'm telling you, you won't get on my good side if I figure out you've been messing with me...", well, two could play at that game! She, too, could ignore his questions, although he replied to this particular question with a most satisfying answer: A shrug. One day, she'll kill him. Not today, however.

-"So, plan is being?"

-"Now you're just forcing it.", she rolled her eyes, walking a bit closer to him as a most devilish plan popped into her mind. "You know, I think I have a new plan.", she began, and he immediately became attentive. Or at least, feigned attention. "I'm planning a vacation."

-"A what?", the pure, raw confusion in his voice was priceless. If for nothing else, this plan in particular was already working.

-"A vacation. It is when someone takes a break from a particular work or job.", she dully explained, watching him mutter something under his beak.

-"No, I know that! Just...really? The last vacation we took together was in the seventies. It's an...uh, a strange extremely proposition.", he explained, apparently coming on board of this particular plan. "I guess you finally decided that some relaxation can benefit the both of us. So, where to, Mistress? I think Sardinia would to be very nice.", he suggested, a small list of places they could go to popping up in his mind. It's been a last while since the two of them actually planned a relaxing trip together. Usually they'd just yell at each other before one of them storms away for a few days and relaxes on their own.

-"Actually...I've been thinking about staying here. I mean, look at our home. It needs some work, that's for sure. We have some laundry, and to be truthful, when was the last time we walked around Napoli? Must've been three years at least.", she tried to remember, and he thought about it for a moment before agreeing.

-"You know what? You're right. We'd do better to stay here. Away from McDuck, away from our troubles in life.", there we go, he was starting to see from her perspective. "And our house does look like it hasn't been cleaned since the dawn of time.", well, that wasn't such a great perspective, but it wasn't wrong per say.

-"Alright, consider us on vacation from now on!", she announced, looking around their ancestral home for a moment. "I think we'd best start on cleaning this place up if we want to finish quickly", she stated, and she earned a nod from her brother as he went to a broom nearby. She then remembered something. "And...uh, Poe?"

-"Hm?", huh. He didn't immediately object to her using his name. That was encouraging.

-"Can we...you know, use our names from time to time? Maybe the weekends? Just...sometime when we can be ourselves for while, yeah?", she timidly suggested, trying to decipher his expression. Poe had donned Ratface as his name for a while now, and she knew that he didn't exactly like the name, only keeping it so that nobody recognizes how low he sunk. But she already knew who he was, so it wasn't that big of a deal...right?

-"...Sure, I suppose. Only on weekends though.", his murmured, his voice so low, almost as if he hoped she wouldn't catch it. He knew she did from her relieved expression, though. "Well, don't just stand there. Get in work; grab the mop.", he ordered, turning his head away.

-"Will do, Ratface, will do.", well, if there's one thing that this disastrous spell helped with, it's that it made the rift between them slightly smaller than what it used to be after the raven incident. Slightly.

As she headed off to find the mop, passing by Poe while he tried his earnest to brush the dust away, she couldn't help but reflect on this day. So, another thing to add to the tomes. Another failure, too, but this time, she couldn't help but feel it was self-inflicted.

She was this close. The Lucky Dime was quite literally in her hand -she quickly checked, obviously finding nothing- and she let it go. Why? Was this really the only way she could find her satisfaction, by defeating Scroogie herself? How far was she willing to go? How much more would she have to sacrifice?

Would she even get there?

Perhaps not. However, it was this 'perhaps' that kept her going; Magica hadn't expected Scroogie to be such a persistent opponent, to always be watchful, to always be determined to win, to always be so confident, yet never passing the line that would make many other fall for an over-inflated ego. And yet, he slipped from time to time. She knew that, as a villainess, the world was basically working against her, and yet...there were times where she came so close, she could not actually believe it. But he always bounced back up, striking her and Poe down at the last second.

And yet, she could not imagine any more hollow a victory than what she had today. For all she hated him, Scrooge was such a worthy opponent that anyone else simply could not reach the golden standard which he'd set. The snark, the fighting, the boisterous spirit that just felt so wonderful to crack with a devious plot...It all made her unable to imagine a victory over someone other than him when it came to the Lucky Dime.

The issue was that she feared he became less of a rival, and more of an obsession. Was she truly unable to accept winning over someone else? How much control did she have over this rivalry of theirs, really? She always thought that he'd be living in fear of her, making his every more around her fearsome existence, and yet it appeared she was the one who was losing her mind about him.

So what would she do? Realize she's become in his orbit? Accept it? Try to cut all ties and just stop going to North America altogether? It was all just so maddening...

And yet, the answer she found herself satisfied with was that she had to try harder. She couldn't possibly let Scrooge rob her blind; she was Magica DeSpell! She went so far to get to defeat Scroogie, and she wouldn't simply let go! She'd get better, stronger, more dangerous, and she'd have to balance this out a bit. Scrooge was not the main character of her life; she was. He wasn't going to out-shine her in her own life.

And yeah, the Lucky Dime is essentially her sole goal which she's been working towards, but perhaps trying to regain more control before going after Scrooge again will make her feel more firm about her position. Honestly, it was all so complicated that she couldn't help but feel a bit bad for leaving a Scrooge-less world behind her, but after all, a world without Scrooge McDuck is certainly not the world she was used to. She wouldn't simply leave the world behind her and run away, she'd stand up and get a hold of this situation again. It's what she did before, and what she'll be doing for a long time, or else her name isn't Magica DeSpell.

-"Mistress, what on earth is taking so long?! Have you forgotten what a mop is?!", and her name wouldn't be Magica DeSpell if she stopped doing dramatic monologues and forgetting about her surroundings, either.

-"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming you smart-mouth...", as she picked up the cleaning supplies and headed to where her brother was, she couldn't help but stare at Scrooge's picture, filled with darts.

Perhaps a world without Scroogie would be a world that's less dangerous. A world that's more successful for her. Far easier, too. But she did not care about easy, she cared about the challenge and the victory that followed. For now, she could handle a world with Scroogie. The question was: Could he handle what was coming next?

Oooooh, that was a good one! She had to write that down for her next confrontation with the old miser. Right after they finish their vacation, of course.

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