Sturmgewehr 44 assault rifle with Zielgerät 1229 ‘Vampir’ infrared device
Manufactured and fitted by C.G. Haenel in Suhl, Germany. 7,92x33mm Kurz 30-round removable box magazine, gas-operated tilting bolt select fire, ‘Vampir’ infrared aiming device made of a scope and infrared lamp linked to a wooden-boxed battery. The interesting thing about both World Wars in terms of firearm development, is that when a country -generally filled with brilliant people as countries may be- is struggling to keep the technological edge, you end up with weapons that may be rushed, not thought-out, and based on ideas exceeding the local production means… But ultimately they’re weapons that look fucking amazing.
CETME Model C battle rifle with Eltro B8-V infrared scope
Designed by Ludwig Vorgrimler, manufactured by
Centro de Estudios Tecnicos de Materiales Especiales in Spain c.1957~. 7,62x51mm Nato 20-round single-stack removable box magazine, roller-locked delayed blowback, select fire, B8-V infrared 4X scope and 100m-range infrared light. A gun developed from the StG44 mounting a device developed from the Zielgerät 1229 ‘Vampir’ that accompanied it. Note that this gun is the direct basis for H&K’s G3 battle rifle. Ludwig Vorgrimler sounds like the kind of guy that moonlights as a warrior-priest of Sigmar.
So nice to see your face again, tell me how long has it been Since you’ve been here. You look so different than before But still the person I adore, frozen with fear
HYDRA had kidnapped [Y/N] for leverage on Captain America back in the forties. Little did they know that even though [Y/N] was a good friend of Steve Rogers, she would have been more useful in using her against Sergeant Barnes. She was the love of his life, the one dame who could take his breath away every single time she walked into a room. She had powers over him that he never thought a woman could have. But, sure enough [Y/N] had them and fell just as hard.
Fast forward to when HYDRA had their files leaked, JARVIS caught and deciphered most of them. Leaving Steve with the information that a girl he had grown up with was frozen in time just like he had been. There was no argument on whether or not he would go get her because before he could discuss with anyone, he was already on his way.
It took months for her cope with the fact that her last memory was being bound and gagged against her will with scientists hooking IV’s and strange equipment to her body and then the next, she was waking up to a familiar face but in an unfamiliar time. Struggle was an understatement because she couldn’t understand how any of the things she was going through was actually happening.
But, time was the only thing that would help her. And eventually, she adapted. [Y/N] wasn’t quite as strong as the others but where she lacked in strength, she made up for in her precision. [Y/N] could calculate fight sequences before they happened, and it was like every weapon you threw in her hand, she knew exactly how to use it despite the fact that she had never picked up one prior. It was scary how she never missed and [Y/N] couldn’t even begin to tell you how she knew how to do some of things that she could do. She just knew.
“The Winter Soldier’s a ghost, huh?” [Y/N] said sarcastically as she watch the shadow move across the rooftops through her scope. Re-positioning the rifle against her shoulder, she looked through the scope again. “Looks well and alive to me.”
“Do you have a clear shot?” Steve asked.
“Oh yeah, I’ve got a real clear shot.” Zooming her scope in, “Do we want him dead or alive?”
“Alive.” Steve growled.
[Y/N] chuckled, “Alive it is.” Just as she was about to move her aim towards the man’s shoulder, she caught sight of a pair of eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time. “No.” She whispered, low enough for her team members to not hear.
“Hello? [Y/N] you going to take the shot?” Natasha asked, her tone a little annoyed. “He’s going to get away!”
Struggling to regain her focus, she desperately tried to get a good aim on him before he ducked down between two buildings. Cursing in her head, she yanked the rifle away from herself. Running her hands through her hair, she kicked the rooftop railing. “Steve, private talk, now.”
In minutes, the kid she knew from Brooklyn was waltzing through the rooftop stairwell. His face was laced with concern and slight annoyance. “[Y/N]? What happened? You said you had a clear shot.” He removed his earpiece and turned it off, watching as [Y/N] did the same.
[Y/N] inhaled deeply, her eyes staring up at the dark sky. “I never asked you about Bucky because I didn’t want to know.”
Steve’s brows knitted together, he had always wondered why [Y/N] never asked about Bucky. At first, he thought it was because she didn’t remember but after she started to recall memories, it didn’t make sense why she didn’t ask about the man who swept her off her feet all those years ago. “Okay? I’m not trying to be insensitive right now, [Y/N], because I know how much Buck meant to you but why is this relevant?”
She ignored his question, “What did Bucky and I used to tell each other every single day before we left to go our separate ways?”
Steve could never forget, it was like clockwork every time they’d say goodbye or goodnight to each other. Steve had so desperately wanted a relationship like that, to look a girl and just have the words slip right out his mouth before he even thought about them. “Bucky would ask you to smile and he’d say, ‘you’ve got the best damn smile in this town, a smile I could never forget even if I tried.’ And you would follow with, ‘and you’ve got the best damn pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen, eyes I will never forget in a million years.’”
[Y/N] smiled, trying to remember the last time they had shared those loving words. She wasn’t sure if he actually meant it, but she sure did. “I meant that, every single word.”
Steve nodded, unsure of where this was going but not going to interrupt her trip down memory lane because perhaps this was why she missed the opportunity to shoot the Winter Soldier. If she needed to vent, Steve wasn’t going to stop her. “I know, and Buck did too.”
“Steve, what exactly happened to Bucky?”
He inhaled, “Long story short and to spare you the details, he died during one of our missions.”
[Y/N] turned away from him, looking at the spot where the Winter Soldier had just been. “What was the mission?”
“To destroy HYDRA bases,” Steve stepped forward, concerned. “[Y/N] why are you suddenly interested in this now?”
A tear slid down her cheek, as she turned to face Steve. “You and I are not the only ones who were frozen in time.” Inhaling deeply, she firmly spoke through her teeth. “The Winter Soldier is a ghost, Steve. It’s Bucky, I know because I saw his eyes.”
Kind of tempted to do a part two. Anyone interested?
Summary:You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.
Word count: 2510
Warnings:Same as always
A/N: Thank you for all of the feedback again I’m completely blown away. Sorry that tags have been finicky, not sure what tumblr’s deal is lately. I hope you like this chapter, thanks for sticking around!
crisp, cold air outside the club was a welcoming relief but did little to halt
the burning tears cascading down your cheeks or the hot waves of mortification
and shame radiating out from deep within your very being. The cold air bit at your nose and throat as
you allowed yourself to suck in great gulps in attempts to keep the impending
panic attack at bay.
This can’t be happening, this wasn’t supposed
to happen. Ethan stood at the curb, attempting to hail a
cab while you toiled over your interaction with Bucky. This wasn’t like how it was in the movies. Wasn’t Bucky supposed to be completely
awestruck with your transformation?
Shouldn’t he have been at a loss for words? Instead he was completely
taken aback for all the wrong reasons.
He’d looked at you with utter confusion, probably wondering what the
hell you were doing in a dress,
wearing makeup, sporting heels, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing…and
he didn’t like it at all.
This post is divided in multiple pieces to not be too long.
Gender ratio: Neutral (They usually identify as a she)
Diet: Mp and Mana (all not necessary for survival)
Habitat requirements: A quiet and peaceful place (generally not so bright areas too), where they can sleep in peace.
Alice dolls are life-sized dolls that spend most of their existence blissfully asleep. The origins of these dolls date a few centuries back, a master toy-maker and his wife were longing for a child of their own, yet could not have any. Every time the toy-maker made a doll, he’d treat and make them with care, as if they were the beloved children he never had. One day, the dolls came to life with a wish upon a star. The toy-maker, his wife and the dolls would spend lots of time together, reading books, watching the night sky, having picnics and so on. But then, many years later, the toy-maker died alongside his wife. The two died peacefully in their sleep. Once the dolls found them, they too, went back to sleep thinking they were asleep. Hoping that they too, will join their makers in the blissful dreamland.
Attack: Once sensing someone’s presence by them being closer than four feet or hearing them, they wake up and charge at the character trying to hit them, slap them, kick them and all kinds of physical attacks. If they can no longer see of hear the character(-s), they will go back to sleep.
Drop item: Loli shoes, loli wig, loli dress, loli socks and indestructible string.(one of these randomly each time they are defeated)
Gender ratio: Unknown
Diet: The souls of the innocent and hp
Habitat requirements: Dark and spooky places. Preferably dark, misty forests and old haunted houses.
Noroi.. the spooky cousin of the Frost lasses. They love to give anyone a scare and are successful a most of the time. Their bodies are see-through, extendable an very flexible. Being able to camouflage themselves as mist and so on. They are very mischievous and rarely show themselves unless for pranks.
Attacks: They slowly seep away the character’s hp whilst giving them the spook.
They curse the character to be very unlucky for an hour.
Drop items: Cursed halo (rare)
Gender ratio: 60% male 40% female
Diet: Unknown. they are a flying eyeball for Pete’s sake!
Habitat requirements: No sand, moist and cool places with few sharp objects.
The Dave are seasonal creatures, never seen around winter. Their wings can bring them to about 10 miles per hour.
Why they were called Dave? Well the one who discovered them made a mistake whilst writing. Somewhere in the world there is a kid named
Oculothorax. (The man mistook his childs birth certificate for the monster’s file)
Attack: Laser eye.
Drop items: Dave wings (common)
Gender ratio: 90% male 10% female
Diet: A human’s diet.
Habitats: The forest and in the woods on the road to the Demon King.
Children of cyclopes, they play around in the forest. Being fascinated by the story of Robin hood, they steal from anyone that catch their eye (ey? ey? no? okay). The girls were more fascinated with the story of cinderella, except for a few. Who went along with the little Robin hood wannabes.
Having one eye, they are not able to see in depth, making them master snipers from birth. Even with high accuracy and being good blacksmiths, they are still children.
Attack: They use bows, swords and shields.
Drop item: basic Bow(rare), sword (rare), Shield(rare) M24 sniper rifle without scope(ultra rare)
(I forgot to name them so… yeah..)
Gender ratio: 60% male 40% female
Diet: The rich minerals of the ground, sunlight and meat.
Habitat requirements: Lots of sunlight, water and rich ground.
Leonidas are wise beings that rule over many monsters in the forest.
Attack: They are able to pounce on you and bite with their strong jaws and sharp teeth. With their roar, they are able to call for back up. Leonidas are also able to control vines.
Drop items: Leonidas Fang(rare) Flower of power(common)
Manufactured by the Springfield Armory between 1943 and 1945, scope mount manufactured by Griffin and Howe, serial number 3495645. .30-06, 8-round en-bloc clips, M82 2,2X scope offset to the left, MRT leather cheek rest and M2 flash hider. Looks like a star wars prop.
“We have been trekking hard all these last days. Heat and dust terrible… We got in a wood and were
surrounded by Germans. The Germans are very fond of wood fighting and
detail snipers to get up trees. We lost considerably including nine
officers.” Letter from Lt. Neville Woodroffe during the Mons Retreat, 1914.
Snipers can trace their lineage to hunters who began using rifled firearms that could fire accurately at longer rangers. In the North American colonies, settlers adapted the rifle to warfare, and riflemen were used as snipers by both sides during the American Revolutionary War, and by the British in the Napoleonic Wars. During the Second Boer War, Boer marksman with accurate Mauser rifles took a heavy toll on regular British forces. In response, the British formed the first professional unit of trained snipers, the Lovat Scouts, using telescopic rifles and wearing camouflage suits. Their commander said of them that they were “half wolf and half jackrabbit.“
A British officer shoots from a camouflaged position.
The trench warfare of the First World War suited the sniper perfectly. At the beginning of the war, sniping was an amateur affair, practiced mostly by officers used to hunting from before the war. Armed with personal hunting rifles, sharpshooters spent their spare time trying to pick off enemy soldiers. Only the Imperial German Army issued out telescopic sites, and soon the trained German snipers developed a fearsome reputation in the Entente armies.
In response, the British and French set about professionalizing their own marksmen. Big-game hunters like Hesketh Hesketh-Prichard worked hard to develop sniper tactics to counter the Germans. All armies set up training schools, and following in the Germans’ wake the British and French began issuing standard-issue scoped rifles. Optics underwent significant development; a major example was the “periscope” rifle that used sloped mirrors to allow soldiers to fire without revealing themselves above the trench parapet.
A British soldier at Gallipoli tries to lure Turkish snipers into firing; his friends don’t seem amused.
As snipers improved in quality, the danger they posed increased. Working in pairs, snipers were expected to memorize the layout of the land in front of them, noticing any subtle change. They wore camouflage and shot from disguised or armored positions to remain safe themselves while they watched for any sudden enemy movement. Even a man who exposed himself for a fraction of a second might become a casualty. The most valuable targets were officers, signalers trying to lay communication lines, and soldiers bringing up rations from field kitchens.
A camouflaged British marksman next to a fake tree he used as a platform.
The sniper war became a daily feature of life on the front line. Soldiers developed methods to cope. Robert Graves remembered being troubled by one particular German sniper, but he found a response: “Later we secured an elephant-gun that could send a bullet through enemy
loopholes and if we failed to locate the loop-hole of a persistent
sniper, we tried to dislodge him with a volley of rifle-grenades, or
even by ringing up the artillery.”
The randomness of death scared troops. It even created one superstition - never light a cigarette three times from the same match. “The sniper sees the first light, he hones in on the second, and when he sees the third he takes the shot.”
Anzac troops use a periscope rifle on Gallipoli.
Soldiers hated snipers and a captured one could expect no mercy. Nevertheless, sniping had a mental toll of its own. Some treated it like hunting, but others were disturbed by its oddly personal nature. R. A. Chell remembered feeling so during his first try at it:
“After about fifteen minutes quiet watching - with my rifle in a ready
position - I saw a capless bald head come up behind the plate. The day
was bright and clear and I hadn’t the slightest difficulty in taking a
most deliberate aim at the very centre of that bright and shiny plate -
but somehow I couldn’t press the trigger: to shoot such a ‘sitter’ so
deliberately in cold blood required more real courage than I possessed.
After a good look round he went down and I argued with myself about my
duty. My bald-headed opponent had been given a very sporting chance and
if he were fool enough to come up again I must shoot him unflinchingly. I
considered it my duty to be absolutely ready for that contingency.
After about two minutes he came up again with added boldness and I did
my duty. I had been a marksman before the war and so had no doubt about
the instantaneousness of that man’s death. I felt funny for days and the
shooting of another German at 'stand-to’ the next morning did nothing
to remove those horrid feelings I had.”
Made by Winchester Repeating Firearms c.1887, fitted with a WM Malcolm scope - serial number 9183. .32-40 Ballard single shot falling block rifle, segmented cleaning rod in the buttstock, N°3 octagon barrel. Probably the sexiest scope in existence.
Made by the Manufacture d’Arme de Saint-Etienne in France c.1956-70′s - serial number G81988. 7,5x54mm MAS Mle1929C ten-round removable box magazine, direct impingement gas operated semi-automatic, Mle 1953 APX 806L scope mounted on a rail on the left side of the receiver, muzzle adapted to fire rifle grenades, with accompanying folding grenade sights. The 1956 modification shortened the barrel but also and most noticeably the foregrip of the rifle, making it a very compact and sturdy battle rifle.
If Obito were even ten seconds slower, he’d have been too
It all happens in a blur; the moment he swings himself up
onto the edge of the balcony, his eye catches on a slim figure in dark clothes,
just approaching the wide glass doors with their covering of steel grills. In
the same moment, there’s a spark of red across black cloth, all but invisible
in the night. Across the busy street, on one of the top floors of an office
building, light dances across cold metal, and Obito doesn’t even try to shout a
warning. He hurls himself across the balcony with every ounce of speed he has
and tackles the figure just as they reach for the lock.
In the same instant, there’s a muffled pop, and a bullet
slams through the thick glass.
“God damn it!” Obito’s captive hisses, but Obito wraps an
arm around her waist and leaps for the far edge of the terrace. Another pop,
another bullet, and this one is even closer as it slams into stone, showering
them with chips of stone. With a snarl of warning, Obito shoves his target
around the corner, pushing her down, and whirls to bring his own gun up.
There’s no time to aim, no chance to actually hit the bastard when Obito doesn’t have a rifle and scope with him,
but he eyeballs it, squeezes the trigger, and dives after the woman as another
shot cracks the stone where he’s been standing. At the same moment, glass
cracks with a shattering crash across the street, and Obito pushes the target
hard, trying to get her moving towards the far side of the building.
“Go!” he urges, and with an irritated huff she scampers
along the narrow ledge, grabs a zip line between gloved hands, and vaults over
the side of the museum. Obito shoves his gun back into its holster and follows
her, landing lightly in the statuary garden behind the building. The woman is
nowhere to be seen, but a maintenance gate is standing just a little ajar, and
Obito wriggles through the gap, emerging into the lush darkness of the
botanical garden that abuts the museum.
“You know,” he says into the darkness, more than a little
annoyed, “thank you is generally what
people say in this kind of situation.”
“My diamonds,” the
woman says instead, a mournful lament, and Obito rolls his eyes as he steps
into the small pagoda that overlooks a decorative pond.
“Sniper, Rin,” he
reminds her, exasperated. “Aiming for your head.
Rin drags her ski mask off to pout at him, brushing her
bobbed hair out of her face. “Diamonds,”
she insists. “Obito, we’ve been casing that building for weeks, and now it’s ruined.”
“But your head
Of course, Rin just waves that off. “Now security’s going to
be insane,” she complains, folding
her arms over her chest.
Obito is so done with this. “Someone just tried to kill you, and you’re worried about
“Pretty rocks. Valuable
rocks. Rocks that I spent a very long time planning to steal, Obito,” Rin
insists, casting a dark look back at the museum. She heaves a sigh that’s
overly thick with regret. “I bet every silent alarm in the place is going off
“Except the one for a dead would-be intruder,” Obito reminds
her, because it can’t be overstated. “If I hadn’t gotten to you in time—”
That at least gets him a laugh, and Rin reaches up to cup
his scarred cheek. “Yes, yes, you rode to my rescue like always, dashing hero,
et cetera, et cetera. And here I thought you’d heard about our heist and were
coming to join us again.”
Obito rolls his eye, though he doesn’t bat her hand away.
It’s Rin, after all. “I don’t think assassin falls under the necessary
skills to be a white knight, Rin. I’m not a thief anymore. You shouldn’t hold
your breath that I will be again.”
Rin rolls her eyes right back, stepping a little away to
prop her hands on her hip. “But we were good
thieves,” she wheedles, though Obito can see the mischief in her expression.
“Remember the casino in Kiri? The bank in Suna? The hotel in Ame?”
Making a face at her, Obito looks away, checking their
surrounding so he doesn’t have to face the full force of Rin’s puppy dog eyes. “You
know I make as much in one contract as you do in three heists,” he reminds her.
“And this is a family business. If you have a problem with me killing people—”
Rin smacks him over the head.
(Obito probably should have seen that coming.)
With a yelp, he leaps back to get out of range, because Rin
never stops at just one hit. At the same time, hands close around his elbows
from behind, dragging him up against a hard chest, and it’s only a very vivid
burst of sense-memory that keeps Obito from flipping the bastard over his
shoulder and stabbing him.
“What are we talking about?” Kakashi asks, almost directly
against Obito’s skin. It would take a stronger man then Obito not to shiver at
“Assassinations,” Rin says cheerfully, stepping forward to
tap her fingers against Obito’s chest.
Kakashi hums in acknowledgement, though he doesn’t lift his
head. His flyaway hair brushes Obito’s cheek, and Obito can feel the sound more
than he hears it. “Is that what that was? Rin, did you get into a death feud
with someone and not tell me?
“It was Madara,” Obito says before she can answer. “And—can
you let go of me? Hands to yourself,
Kakashi, of course, does not let go. “Madara?” he asks, and
there’s the faintest edge of darkness to his voice. “Your partner Madara?”
Rin is starting to frown as well, and Obito waves his hands
as much as he can while still in Kakashi’s grip, trying to get them off this
track. “No, no, not like that. He was an asshole so I left to work on my own,
and he’s pissy because I’m better than him and he’s only making half as much
money now. This was him trying to get revenge against me.”
“By coming after us?” This makes Rin beam. “Obito, you
really do care!” she says cheerfully.
“Of course I care,” Obito grouses, huffing and slumping back
into Kakashi’s hold. “It’s been the three of us since we were, what, six?
You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not even by getting married.”
Kakashi chuckles, his fingers tightening just a little. “I
would have thought the way we fought over who got you as best man was
“And we offered to
let you join in on our wedding night,” Rin points out, her smile far too bright
to be saying things like—like that.
Obito flushes, on the verge of spluttering, but before he can she adds, “So how
many times has Madara tried to kill you since you left?”
Behind him, Kakashi goes stiff, but Obito ignores the
overprotective idiot. “Ten times?” he hazards, though he can’t quite remember
clearly. “It’s fine, he’s a moron who can’t use a gun. All of his stuff is
arranged accidents or poisonings. I’m fine.”
“I don’t know,” Kakashi says mildly. “That sort of looked
like a gun to me just now.”
Obito snorts rudely. “Yeah, and no offense to Rin, but if I
was behind the trigger she would have been dead six times over before she even
got to the balcony. Madara’s an overly dramatic moron.”
“Says the man who cried at our wedding.” But there’s tension
easing out of Kakashi’s fingers, and when Obito glances back and up at him, he
crinkles his eyes in a smile about his half-mask.
“Emotional is not
the same as dramatic,” Obito insists hotly. “And would you let me go, please?”
Kakashi hums low in his throat like he’s considering it, gaze
slipping away from Obito to land on Rin. He lifts a brow in silent question,
and Rin’s grin slides back onto her face, her delight clear. Apparently that’s
answer enough, because Kakashi chuckles a little and leans down again, pressing
his mouth to the curve of Obito’s neck.
Obito stiffens, jerks, and squawks, “What are you doing, Bakashi!?”
“If you’ve forgotten,” Kakashi says, still perfectly mild,
“I think it’s about time we remind you.”
“Like a thank you for saving my life!” Rin agrees
cheerfully, trailing her fingers down the center of Obito’s chest. “Think of it
as a Hallmark card, but with more orgasms.”
One of the hands holding Obito’s elbow vanishes for a
moment, and there’s a rustle of cloth. This time when Kakashi nips at his skin,
his mouth is entirely uncovered, and Obito jolts and gasps. “But,” he manages
as Rin leans up to kiss him, and for half a minute that’s far more interesting
than words. Especially when Kakashi’s hands settle on his hips and drag him
back even more firmly. When Rin finally surrenders his mouth, dragging her
teeth across his lower lip, he groans and tries desperately, “But—revenge, I have to get revenge on Madara
because he’s an asshole—”
Rin pouts at him in the way she knows he’s weak to, the witch. “Really, Obito? You’re thinking
about revenge at a time like this? It’s been so long since we were all in bed together. Don’t you want to have some
“You just want to see Kakashi fuck me again,” Obito accuses,
and from behind him Kakashi makes a very interested sound and scrapes his teeth
over the spot on Obito’s jaw that always makes him lose control of his knees. Obito
sucks in a hard breath, eye closing automatically, and Rin laughs.
“This is true,” she says without an ounce of shame, fingers
ghosting over his belt. “Can you blame me? It’s been four years. Besides, I want a piece of you too.”
Her light touch turns into a definite grope, and it takes
effort for Obito not to whine through his teeth. “But—plan. I have a plan and I need to go—”
Kakashi makes an intent sound against the curve of his
shoulder. “Oh? For your revenge? You’re not just going to shoot him?”
“Mmm.” Obito breaks the kiss that Rin pulls him into, trying
to drag his wayward thoughts back under control. They all seem to be taking a
nosedive and heading south. “I—yes. Yes, I have the perfect plan. There’s
this—this outstanding contract Madara has—oh.”
“Outstanding contract,” Kakashi prompts cheerfully, as if he
didn’t just stick his hands up Obito’s shirt.
“On a businessman,” Obito forges on doggedly. “Madara was
gleeful for days after he got it,
because they have history. So I’m going to get there first.”
“And kill him before Madara can?” Rin asks, though her
attention seems to mostly be on Obito’s abs as she follows the path of
With an aggravated huff, Obito turns, getting ahold of
Kakashi’s turtleneck and pulling him in for a hard kiss that’s full of teeth. “No,” he insists, pulling back. “I’m
going to save the bastard and keep him alive no matter what, just to spite
Rin laughs, pulling back a little. “That sounds like a good
plan,” she agrees, and when Obito makes the mistake of looking at her she makes
that one face, halfway between sultry and a pout, that always does terrible
things to Obito’s willpower. “But it can wait until tomorrow, can’t it, Obito?
Or…maybe the day after?” She traces her fingers down his chest, looking up at
him through her lashes, and Kakashi pulls him in even tighter, halfway to a hug
but with a very prominent bulge in
“Oh god I hate you both,”
Obito says, and Rin laughs because she knows that’s his surrender.
“You brought your bike, didn’t you?” she asks coyly. “I’ll
take the car back to the hotel. Kakashi, why don’t you make sure he doesn’t
change his mind?”
“I can do that,” Kakashi agrees cheerfully, nipping lightly
at Obito’s ear. “You can tell me more about your revenge on the way. There’s no
way that’s all of it, knowing you.”
“Keep implying that I’m a tricky bastard and I’ll prove you
right,” Obito threatens as Rin leans up for another kiss. “I just—ah, Rin, god—I can only stay one night, okay?”
“We’ll revisit the discussion at a later time,” Rin decides,
and her bright, sunny smile returns. “After we’ve wrecked you the second time,
It’s vaguely sort of possible that Obito whimpers.