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moonsaver · 11 months ago

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Where the Lamb does not Belong.

You're isekai'd into the world of Honkai Star Rail. Thankfully, you're taken into the Astral Express and continue your journey peacefully, until you reach Penacony. Something, or someone, seems to be causing your system to continually crash. Perhaps it's because you did not belong here at all.

Warnings: yandere, obviously. Uh, mentioned fracture(?)

A/n; reader is a tad forgetful and can brush off a few things, and get distracted slightly easily. But for the most part, i think it won't ruin the immersion. Its my first time writing something "self aware" related, and something like a character breaking the 4th wall. I really love these tropes but rarely write them. I hope i did it well. Its roughly 4.5k long. Enjoy.

----

“Ace!”

“It's not ace.”

“Uno!”

“March, you're supposed to say it after you put down your second card.”

“Oh, sure.”

…

“March, it's not your turn.”

“Huh?!”

You giggle, listening in on their banter. You're leaned up comfortably on Dan Heng's back, messing around with a level on Stelle's phone she hasn't been able to beat.

You hear a loud groan, a fwop as March drops on her back onto the bed,

“This is so confusing!”

“The rules are simple, you're just trying to rush things.”

Dan Heng takes the cards and settles them, tapping them vertically to level and gather them onto the little table. You stretch your neck to look back and catch a glimpse of March sulking. Stelle gently pries the phone out of your hands as you do so.

“Hey let's go through our photo album again!”

“It's the 6th time this month.”

You chuckle, getting up from Dan Heng's back as you feel him shift, moving over to situate yourself around the table aswell, the the bed dipping under your weight.

“I knew you were into photography but wow, this is something, March.”

You say, leaning over on the table, your elbow resting on it as your chin rests on your palm,

“Well, you better be grateful ‘cause I just finished up your entry!”

“My entry?”

You blink, confused,

“She's been dutifully taking pictures of your progress as a new member of the Astral express. I've.. learnt from experience It's better that you don't try to stop her.”

You laugh awkwardly, staring down as March excitedly flips through the photo book. It's a bit embarrassing now that you recall.

“Here! Look, look, look! I caught [name] in all their glory!”

“March..”

You awkwardly laugh, as Dan Heng looks over at the photo March points to in her photobook,

You cringe as you see your own expression, dull and groggy, a stark contrast to the bright letters and stickers decorating the edge of the photo that's glued tightly onto the page. You're drooling, to top it off.

“Hehe, [name] looks cute here don't they?!”

March points down to another photo right below, blurry in the midst of action. Your hazy figure is sitting up on a bed, Stelle draped over your lap while in charge of watching over you when you first appeared.

“I should have stayed to watch over, instead.”

Dan Heng comments under his breath, glancing back momentarily at Stelle, her chin hooked over his shoulder after having abandoned the game, seemingly more interested in the collection.

You chuckle softly,

Where did it begin exactly?

You boarded as an official member of the Astral Express about a few months ago, a gold brooch handed over to you, and many new faces who welcomed you onboard. You remember being home one day, going to sleep and hoping, just hoping that all of your worries and stress would just.. disappear. Your head hit the pillow and then-

You woke up. Here.

Suddenly you woke up in the very game you played to relieve your stress. Ironically, that moment you woke up was one of your most stressful memories, panicking at the situation you were in–

“Aw, dang it. I got defeated.”

All of you look over to Stelle, and to the red screen on her phone. You chuckle, as March sighs and shifts the topic.

You yawn and settle back onto the bed, leaning on a pile of pillows as March and Dan Heng continue their banter, taking this time to go through your stats, swiping and tinkering on your phone.

You've reached a higher level now. Having unlocked many items and even levelled up some basic features which allowed you to at the very least, defend yourself.

You read through the archived stories, gazing over all the past dialogue you've shared with this trio from the “main quest” ever since you boarded. Your friendship level with many had increased gradually over time, and shot up with the trio, as expected.

“[Name]..”

Stelle whines, pushing her phone back to you. You giggle, taking the device from her hands,

“Alright, I won't get distracted this time.”

This was your first expedition as a new member of the Astral Express. Which didn't help considering you were going into Penacony of all places.

You were nervous – how was your presence going to alter the timeline? Maybe a less “on screen” role like Himeko's? Or maybe you should have just stayed back with Dan Heng? But the experience, materials and all sorts of gizmos Penacony was going to offer.. It was too tempting.

And here you are, in the lobby. Himeko and Welt continue negotiating with the young woman at the reception. You were already on edge, but it seemed things just had to go wrong as well.

To distract yourself, you fidgeted and anxiously viewed the prologue to Penacony the system had just offered to you, repeatedly scrolling up and down on your phone, tapping your foot, pacing around the hotel a bit when–

A hand came up to your shoulder.

“It seems you're quite worried.”

You looked back.

It's Robin.

“Sorry, uh, we're.. having difficulty with the check-in and..”

You momentarily trail off, almost lost as you look at Robin. Her in game model was beautiful, but now that you're standing in front of her, it's almost.. mesmerising. Her eyes are beautiful – deep and ethereal. Pretty pink lips and softly dusted cheeks, her hair wispy and framing her face just the right way. You're awestruck for a moment, before panicking and snapping out of your daze.

You're at a hotel lobby for aeons’ sake!

“O-Oh, uh, my family is–”

You turn over to see Himeko and Welt continuing to go back and forth with the young woman at the reception, and turn again to see March and Stelle slightly off in the corner talking anxiously.

“They seem lovely.”

Robin smiles at you. And suddenly, your eyebrows and shoulders relax. Your jaw slightly slacks. Something about Robin seems to soothe you more than you ever thought.

Your eyes trail over to the bar in the corner;

Friendship level: 0

Right. She's still a stranger, in this timeline of events.

You're snapped out of your thoughts momentarily as another, unfamiliar voice speaks up from the crowd – a blonde man, addressing your fellow trailblazers.

This can't be good.

You walk up, regrouping with March and Stelle as they watch it all happen.

–

The golden hour was a familiar map to you, particularly because you'd loved exploring the place back when you used to play.

But actually being there is stunning.

The yellow lights brighten up the night-like atmosphere in a beautiful, classy way. It's almost as though you're in an old film, the way everything around you is hazy and glowing. There's laughter in the background and shimmering lights somewhere in the distance, drinks and the smell of food occasionally wafting in the air from corner cafés or so. You wander, awestruck at the sight of the landscape when–

You bump into someone, a small sound leaving you at the impact.

You look back to take a look at the stranger - more to try and ground yourself into this “dream” and your current reality. You were in Penacony. And all of this was physically interacting with you, regardless of how miniscule you must be. Whether you would have been reincarnated as a Cafe owner, or an NPC, or anyone else. As long as you were on Penacony, you were going to be a part of Sunday's grand plan.

You zone out, the hazy cacophony of ecstasy in the background blurring in the crowded space of your mind, thoughts overarching and bubbling up.

Beep!

You look at your phone, buzzing as quests pop up. You take a moment to look around the various shops, before your eyes land on a cozy cafe.

It won’t hurt to rest for a moment.

–

“Shit, shit, shit..”

You curse to yourself, frantically tapping on the screen and trying to fix this mess.

“Just– cooperate damn it..!”

Your teeth gnaw at your lip, biting and peeling off bits of the skin. It stings, but in your anxious state, you barely pay mind,

Why was the system not cooperating with you?!

None of your teleportation points worked, you weren't levelling up, barely any of the trinkets given by completion of quests were being used up! It was rudimentary junk in your inventory and now for some god awful reason, your entire system was going haywire!

System error: freespace is occupied!

System error: unavailable tab

System error: unable to access tab

System error: unable to complete..

“Yeah, yeah I got it you little-”

“Is something the matter?”

You gasped under your breath, a chill shooting up your spine as you turn around,

“No, no! Nothing, haha just.. uh..”

You awkwardly shuffle, pretending to look into your bag,

“You seem to be having trouble.”

Sunday's poised figure contrasts your sweaty, nervous, fidgeting one, as you only panic more at his words.

“Oh, just.. well.. it’s my first time visiting another world, so..”

“Ah, first time jitters? I’m faintly familiar.”

You chuckle awkwardly, but your humour doesn't seem to be exactly matched. Sunday’s smile doesn't widen or lessen, and neither does he chuckle. You realise how uncanny he looks in the dim lights of the Golden Hour barely illuminating his face in the alley.

“You seem to have been separated from your group. Would you like me to accompany you on your way back?”

“Sure–”

Warning: you are currently interacting with an influential figure. Proceed with caution.

“..you seem hesitant.”

You look at the glaring notification on your screen - akin to when an amber alert pops up, or when an earthquake warning resounds.

“..uh, I think.. I’ll be able to find them on my own. I should be fine.”

“I insist. As the representative and Spokesperson of The Family it is my duty to ensure the safety and relaxation of guests in the Dreamscape.”

Shit. This guy isn’t giving in.

You hesitate, a bead of sweat forming on your forehead and grazing the top of your eyebrow,

Beep!

Optional: would you like dialogue suggestions to be displayed?

[Yes]

[No]

[No – do not ask again]

You sigh internally. At least this system knows how to assist you when you need it.

“Shall we?”

Sunday beckons you to follow, as the pop-up blinks away, before you get the chance to select.

There’s no getting out of this. You’re just gonna have to suck it up and be careful.

“..sure.”

Sunday doesn’t remember when it exactly began.

Strange patterns, predictable dialogues, and the anomalies that occured..

Right after Sunday discovered your name.

He watched as the cup from the trash pile slipped and fell onto the pavement. Your name was written on it – messily and hurried. The cup rolls down a bit before hitting the side of his shoe. Sunday watched it with indifference, opting to simply move it aside before he spotted it. Your name. But it wasn’t supposed to be.

An alias? Maybe. It was different than the name administered in your profile.

He opted to push it back for later; but it was an interrupted thought as he walked ahead and watched you fiddle around with your phone, buzzing constantly as you cursed at it.

He breathes out, before deciding to approach you.

–

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

You respond, your eyes embarrassed and watching the various shuffling of feet in front of you, the crowd forming in front of the Rollercoaster you were too scared to go on.

Well, it's rather you haven't been able to go onto them.

Stelle and March offered you to join, and usually you'd be able to accept the invitation pop up, but as of recent, your system has been going haywire. The system probably narrowed down the scenarios you'd be allowed to participate in,in order to control the situation.

So you stood there, your mood dampened as you accepted that the system would not allow you to partake in the ride with your friends, shaking your head and telling them to go on instead, leaving you behind.

And Sunday saw all of it.

Or rather, just that you haven't gone onto the ride.

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“No, nothing like that.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. Even if you were.. he's not exactly the person you'd tell it to, anyway. You ignore the buzzing of your phone as it displays the same warning, jaded and moody as you'd been denied a great opportunity to have fun.

“..there is a new bakery that's opened up in the corner. Would you like to visit?”

You blink, and look at him, confused. He seems to have understood your confusion, and follows up,

“Until your companions have had their fill. Just for a cup of coffee.”

You hesitate, humming in contemplation. You look at the options displayed;

Options:

□ “Sure. Let's go.”

□ “sorry, my husband's waiting for me on the express.

□ “No thank y–

System Error: no options available

You sigh. You really need to do something about these errors. You nod,

“Sure. Let's go.”

…

The bakery was warm, and lively. As soon as you entered, the faintly sweet smell of pastries and the waft of coffee enveloped you two. You gawked at the mesmerising scenery, while Sunday asked for an available booth that's more hidden from the public eye.

The seats were soft, and pliable as you took your seat, still taking in the view of the bakery. You hear Sunday clearing his throat and tapping the table, your gaze shifting to him. He points to the menu. You understand his cue and take to reading it, your eyes scanning the plethora of options as Sunday does the same.

“Have you.. been here before?”

“I have visited once in the past. With my sister.”

“Ah, how is Robin?”

Your eyes settle on a particular option, as the silence between you two fills with comfortable conversation,

“She has been well. Are you looking forward to her performance at the coming Festival?”

You blink as you realise. How could you forget? The entire reason you and the rest of the crew even came to Penacony! This was the guy who was gonna put everyone into a coma!

“O-Oh, uh, yes! March has been talking non-stop about it, so..”

You chuckle awkwardly, flustered as he caught you a bit off guard. He hums, his face indifferent and neutral as your words process in his mind.

“I suppose I shall expect you in the audience, then?”

“March will drag me to the front, so you'll probably get a clear view of me in my uncomfortable glory.”

That seems to elicit a small, soft chuckle from him, as his eyes land on a specific item on the menu, seeming to have decided his own liking.

“Very well. I'll look forward to it.”

Soon enough, a waitress comes up to the table, and begins taking your orders.

–

“It does seem a tad scary, but the view is always beautiful in the Astral express.”

“I'm sure of it. It sounds wonderful.”

Sunday listens to you dutifully, as you continue talking. Somewhere along the way, your discomfort at the awkward silence between you two led to you talking and filling in the silence, your coffee cup hanging idly in your hands. One thing led to another, as both of you started talking about your childhood memories, tea flavours, desserts, and so on. You find Sunday has been easy to converse with. You'd been ignoring the constant buzzing of your phone – most likely achievements or quests that popped up constantly wherever you went.

You take another sip from your coffee as Sunday takes his initiative to talk, listening to him well, and chuckling slightly at one or the other thing.

“I came to know tea is supposed to be made with hot water, but by then I'd gotten accustomed.”

You giggle, slightly in disbelief,

“Well, do you like iced tea now?”

Sunday shakes his head,

“I prefer coffee, more than that. Perhaps due to needing it more than a preference..”

His eyes trail to your cup, as you hold it in your hands. You follow his gaze,

Is something wrong? He'd been glancing at your cup a few times now, but you didn't comment on it before.

“Is.. something wro–”

Your words are cut off as your phone loudly rings, making you almost fumble and drop your coffee as you hurriedly take your phone.

It's March!

Crap, you forgot.

“Sorry, I uh..”

You scroll through the plethora of notifications, almost all of them missed calls and various texts.

“It seems your companions were searching for you.”

You look up, as Sunday looks into the distance, Stelle and March running towards you.

–

It was strange how things progressed since you came to Penacony.

Some of your equipment took ages to level up, the others taking barely anything before they hit their maximum level. Your friendship level progressed pretty highly on some days, and barely moved an inch on other days.

Your friendship level with Sunday, on the other hand, shot up to a 5. Not even anyone on the Astral Express had that level.

You only noticed it a fraction before you cleared all your notifications at once, swiped away before your finger had the chance to tap on it.

Regardless, that wasn’t your exact concern as of late. The story of Penacony had been well under way now, and things were starting to pick up.

As of recent, you haven't been able to remember the quest contents as much as you used to, only remembering enough in the last moment to avert an extremely bad decision – at least for yourself. Your own personal missions left you alive by a hair's breadth.

But if that didn't upset you – your crew did. The pressure of everything happening on Penacony seemed to have started to weigh down on your team, as they barely regard you anymore. You could technically blame it on the system – it's been trying desperately to revive and fix itself as the game progresses. You might be interfering with the inner workings, so you suppose it's only natural the game tries to limit your interactions with the world.

So for the most part, you've resigned yourself to be an NPC; walking around all of the tourist attractions, getting who knows how many cups of coffee, trying on various clothing items, and occasionally running into Sunday. The first few times, you awkwardly fiddled with your phone for optional dialogues, but as time went on, you felt more comfortable. Regardless, it's not like anything you say can technically avert him from his current plan. It's been in the schemes for who knows how long? As of now, it's less complicating to remain ignorant and act unknowing, and enjoying another walk with him as he surveys the Dreamscape. Considering how close you two might be getting, you'll probably end up telling him a few secrets from your past.

“The Grand theatre is Penacony’s main attraction.”

Sunday’s face is illuminated by it in the distance, as he stands, staring at it. His voice is barely audible, seemingly as if he speaks to himself. But that idea is swept under the rug the moment he turns slightly to you.

When was this cutscene? You curse your memory, the fog of your mind still not cleared from when you first came to this world,

“Have you decided to attend?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to. Considering the story, you actually knew the event wasn’t going to happen. But in the case it did..

Options:

□ “Ill be there first in line to enter.”

□ “Im thinking about it.”

□ “probably not..”

“..I have.”

You hesitantly answer.

“You haven’t made up your mind.”

Sunday states, more as a fact than a question. You can’t blame him, considering the hesitance apparent in your voice.

“..out of everyone, I’d hoped you would have attended.”

The options flicker and appear, but before you can press and respond, he continues,

“I understand. How has your family been?”

He turns to face you, you stay silent for a moment, before humming and clicking on an option,

□ “They’re alright.”

□ “I hope they’re all okay.”

□ “I wouldn’t really know..”

“Ah, uh.. we’re all kind of in our separate ways right now, so.. I wouldn’t really know.”

“I see.”

Both of you stand in silence, as you follow his gaze to the glowing theatre. After a moment, Sunday breaks his silence,

“When I was a child, I was particularly soft-spoken. Back then, Robin used to stand up for me frequently.”

Your ears perk up slightly. Is he talking about a childhood memory right now?

“One day, she wasn’t around, taking a few extra music lessons. The other kids were simply curious enough to take me in.”

You hum, listening to him intently. Your eyes gaze over his features – softly shaded by the cold light of the theatre, and illuminated by the yellow lights of the path.

“We were all kids. One of them pulled and broke my wing that day.”

You gasp, involuntarily. Ouch.

But sunday only chuckles at your reaction, his eyes downwards and distant. You don't think he finds it funny.

“But do you know? Right after that - they visited me. Day after day. Every step of recovery. Every recess when I had to sit back, they accompanied me. I thought about it recently. Humanity is worth saving.”

You stay silent, before smiling. The silence seems pleasant over you two, as you stare at the Grand Theatre in the distance.

“That, is when human spirit and strife first piqued my interest.”

You blink, and turn to look at him, the smile on your face faltering,

“What must the weak, the misfortunate, and the falsely accused do to gain balance within this world?”

You’re left speechless for a moment. It seems even the system cannot exactly provide you any dialogue options, as you glance over to your phone.

“..balance in the world isn’t achievable, which is why the human spirit strives to fix it.”

You stay silent, listening to him.

“Would a bird that cannot fly be allowed to, simply because it yearns to? Would it be righteous of you, or of the bird, to allow the freedom and death of the vast sky? Is it still righteous, if you withhold its freedom?”

He inhales, slowly, speaking in a low voice, wavering.

“Is death the only comprehensible freedom life offers, beside slumber, to the weak? Is that truly freedom?”

Sunday turns to look at you – his golden eyes almost searing into your soul.

You break out into a sweat, panicking as you check your phone, desperately trying to find an option when–

System Error: options not available

Shit, shit, shit. Holy crap. Can you even speak right now?

You're left silently staring at Sunday. He stares back before resigning to quietly look away.

You should leave.

—

Your memory seems to be strangely affected – either because you haven't been able to adjust to the new world, or you just haven't been able to adapt to Penacony.

You groan and slump into the couch of your room, in the real world. You keep forgetting to charge your phone – which isn't technically a hassle; you can access the same menu options, it's just more.. time-consuming. Not to mention you lose your only source of dialogue option pop ups.

How long has this been going on? You knew Penacony had a vast and complicated storyline, but living it feels entirely different. Feeling it is entirely bizarre. No wonder your head's spinning.

But thankfully, it should end soon. Your last quest is to face off Sunday in his boss form. You and your members have decided to meet up at the Grand Theatre, where the event will take place.

You place your phone into charging, and right on cue, March pops up into your room. She stumbles around your room a bit the moment you turn your back, even hear her drop and accidentally knock over some items on her way, simply laughing at the girl, as you continue packing up and preparing for the final “showdown”. You disregard her words, when she tells you she felt something push her.

You're not sure when the next cutscene plays.

You're in the grand theatre; just having defeated Sunday, and collectively waiting to return to the Astral Express. This is when you meet Boothill and Black Swan, where she wakes you up using Misha as a fallacy within Ena's dream.

But you aren't waking up.

You've just been stranded in the empty grand theatre after the darkness lifted.

You try to turn your phone on – but its busted. March must have disconnected the plug when she stumbled across a few things.

You sigh, irritated and antsy, choosing to walk ahead and look warily at the mechanical statues. The quest description is empty; devoid of any explanation. The title is vague and doesn't indicate much. Are you stuck in the loading screen? What the hell is going on?

And just as you are about to shout out for help – Sunday appears. There he is, on the stage. But this time, there's no spotlight. He stares down at you, emptily. You're creeped out for the lack of a better word, feeling your skin crawl with every second he stares. The silence is paper thin and thickly dense at the same time; electrified with tension and the unknown.

He makes the first step, slowly descending down and towards you.

“You are an outsider.”

System error: cannot process dialogue

“You do not belong here.”

System error: cannot proceed further

“I do not belong here.”

System warning: further interaction in this context may lead to irreversible da–

Sunday's hand rips through the warning, causing it to glitch violently, and disappear. You're scared, your throat constricting and your heart almost lurching out of your chest as he continues walking towards you, eyes searing into your soul,

“We do not belong here.”

Beep!

Options:

□ We do not belong here

□ I do not belong here

□ You do not belong here

□ We belong together

■ There is nothing else left for you here. You cannot turn back. There is no other option.

The screen glitches out, as Sunday stands before you, his hand reaching out,

“Tell me. What is your name?”

You can't access anything – the menu, the quests, your inventory, nothing. You stare almost endlessly in horror, as Sunday speaks of your real name.

You shouldn't have used it on that coffee cup.

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luna-azzurra · 2 months ago

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Italian Compliments with ✨Flirt Potential✨

Use these in stories, flirty banter, or if your character has game (or thinks they do).

Sei uno spettacolo. – You’re a showstopper.

Mi togli il fiato. – You take my breath away.

Hai un sorriso che rovina la gente. – Your smile ruins people.

Ti guardo e dimentico cosa stavo dicendo. – I look at you and forget what I was saying.

Hai negli occhi un po’ di tempesta. – You’ve got a little storm in your eyes.

Fai sembrare tutto il resto noioso. – You make everything else look boring.

Non è giusto essere così bello/a. – It’s not fair to be this beautiful.

Mi fai impazzire. – You drive me crazy.

Sei poesia con le gambe. – You’re poetry on legs.

Hai l’aria di chi spezza cuori per sport. – You look like someone who breaks hearts for fun.

Scommetto che nessuno ti dimentica. – I bet no one forgets you.

Il mondo dovrebbe rallentare quando entri in una stanza. – The world should slow down when you walk into a room.

#writing #writerscommunity #writer on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #character development #writer tumblr #writblr #writing help #oc character #writer #female writers #creative writing #indie writer #tumblr writing community #writeblr #writer community #writer problems #writer things

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illbegottenfaith · 4 months ago

Text

stuck with u

you get stuck in the Room of Requirement with a not-so-distant acquaintance and realise there's no where else you'd rather be (theo nott x reader)

all this loving you, hating you, wanting you...

a/n - ahh my first entry for hogmarch! I can't believe I'm finally writing a trope I used to devourrr as a (younger) teen and although 'stuck' tropes aren't my absolute favourites I like that I went for a little unconventional take on it :D I decided to blend the week 1 & 2 themes since im wayyy past the week 1 timeframe oops (midterms...) anyways this was so so fun to write cuz even 5 years on I love love loveee stuck with u ARGHH its so good so enjoy :)))

tropes/warnings - mutual pining, friends-ish to lovers, fluff, happy ending <3

word count - 2.5k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

You’d never been one to stick around - not when it came to people.

You had friends. Plenty of them, in fact. You’re easy to get along with, know how to fill the silences with laughter. But close friendships - the kind where you let them actually know you, the kind where you let them in, let them see something real - those have been few and far between.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of people. You just didn’t trust easily.

Most friendships, to you, felt temporary. People drift in and out of each other’s lives all the time, and you’d never seen much use in pretending otherwise. You kept things surface-level, just enough to be friendly. But the moment someone gets too close, asking questions you don’t want to answer, you pull away. Create distance before they can even get the chance to disappoint you.

But then there’s Theo. And, for some reason, he’s the only person you’ve never managed to push away.

Not that you haven’t tried.

In your first year, when you tripped down the last few steps of the dungeon staircase and sent your books flying, it was Theo who had crouched beside you, silently gathering them up, not a single snide remark on his lips as 11-year-old boys were prone to hand out. No, all you got was a faint smirk as he handed them back to you without a word, all while you gaped gormlessly at him.

In your third year, when you missed a week of classes after a particularly vicious stomach bug, it was Theo who had slid his notes across the table in Potions, muttering “don’t ask me to explain any of it” out the corner of his mouth. All the same, with every mildly incoherent word in his slanted, cursive handwriting, he was surprisingly cooperative in deciphering it for you.

In your fourth year, when you got hexed in the middle of the corridor and spent the entire afternoon with bright green hair, it was Theo who had walked you to the Prefects’ Bathroom, rolling his eyes as he mumbled something about how he “might as well supervise” before you inevitably made it worse.

And this year - your last year - he’s always there.

You don’t understand it. You don’t have the kind of friendship where you confide in each other, where you talk about things that matter. But somehow, Theo always seems to be around when it matters - watching with those observant, calculating eyes of his, offering help without making a big deal out of it, like he knows you wouldn’t take it if he did.

It’s a running joke now - one you always throw at him with a grin. You just can’t get rid of me, huh?

And every time, he huffs a quiet laugh. Apparently not.

The next time you get stuck with him is over spring break. Naturally, all your friends wanted to do was laze around the Common Room, half-dozing. Eventually, someone proposed the brilliant idea of fetching a game for a little intellectual stimulation, like Uno. Unfortunately, no one wanted to actually get up to get it other than you and Theo.

“This isn’t going to work,” you said. You and Theo were standing in an empty corridor on one of the higher floors, one where the Room of Requirement was rumoured to appear. He shushed you impatiently, his eyes still screwed shut as he thought long and hard about a deck of uno cards.

You sighed, waiting for him to get this over with. This close, you could see every individual eyelash of his, all of which were unfairly long. Really, it was a waste of a beautiful feature on a perfectly mediocre boy.

He finally opened his eyes, which almost immediately found yours. You hadn’t realised you were standing so close to each other. For a brief moment, you were struck by how pretty his eyes were - marbled, watercolour eyes that lent a softness to his otherwise strong, harsh features. Momentarily speechless, you looked away, following his line of sight over your shoulder.

Well, I’ll be damned, you thought. A door. An actual door.

Sure enough, it opened to a narrow, cavernous room filled to the brim with every board game you could dream up. The two of you wandered in, weaving in and out of stacks upon stacks of games. Once you picked out a suitable deck of Uno cards, you both meandered back to the entrance. Or what was the entrance.

You turned the corner of a stack, back to where the entrance was, only to see Theo standing with his back to you, his face hidden, fingertips ghosting a blank stretch of stone.

“Theo,” you started, stating the complete obvious, “why is there wall where the door is supposed to be?”

"I don't believe it," you heard him mumble disbelievingly under his breath. "It was here just a moment ago."

"You lost the door?" you cried out. He was starting to look a little green around the gills, his eyes darting to the other walls. He gave a weak, unconvincing laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous."

“Do something, Theodore!”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder!”

Theo winced. “Quit yelling, would you?”

You sat down, slumped against the opposite wall, dragging a hand across your face. “Great. This is just perfect. We’re going to grow old and die and shrivel up in here and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault? If you had just waited by the door like I asked - ”

"You didn't tell me the door was going to disappear!"

"Yeah - well - it's never happened before." Theo dragged his hand out of his hair, now wildly sticking up in all directions, fingers trailing up the wall as if trying to feel for a hidden door. You scoffed.

"I told you we should have gone down to Hogsmeade to buy a deck, but no, you didn’t want to walk all that way.”

“Unlike you, I actually know how to work the Room.”

Theo turned just in time to dodge the Monopoly figurine you had hurled at his head.

"Then work it. Get us out of here."

--------

"Stop chucking things at me."

Grudgingly, you paused your assault. Half an hour ago, you had been ready to climb the walls and tear them down to get out of this place. Now, the craze had passed, so you settled for pelting Theo with all the tiny games figurines you could get your hands on while he paced wearily, trying to think of a solution.

“I’ll stop when we have an exit.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Theo turned back to the blank stone wall, muttering something under his breath as he pressed his palm against it. When nothing happened, he shoved both hands through his already-ruffled hair and swore under his breath.

Your eyes tracked his movements critically. “You have no idea how to get us out of here, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Theo shot back, a little too quickly.

"Right."

Five minutes later, he finally admitted defeat. He joined you where you were slumped in a corner, unsuccessfully trying to juggle the chess pieces. To your credit, you didn't say it, but your whole body language hummed with an undercurrent of I told you so.

"The Room's going to let us out when it wants to let us out," he said finally. "All we can do is wait till it feels like it."

He sounded so defeated you were starting to feel a little bad for being so hard on him. You sighed.

"I just can't believe we're stuck in here when everybody else is...you know, out there."

“Yes,” he said drily, “because there’s so many better places to we need to be. Merlin forbid we fall behind on our couch-rotting hours.”

You grinned as he picked up the deck of cards on your lap, starting to shuffle them.

"Might as well make the most of it while we're stuck here."

You raised your eyebrows as he started expertly manipulating the deck.

"Shuffling's the newest panty-dropper, eh?"

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards as his eyes remained fixed on the deck. "You'd be surprised."

You can practically see him puffing out his chest on the showier tricks he does with laser-focused concentration. It makes you want to laugh, his almost childish need to be impressive. To impress others. To impress you.

But, for reasons that eluded you, you were impressed. Not once had Theo ever let you down. It was as though he was incapable of it. You didn't exactly rely on him, but when he was around, his deep, self-assured voice was guaranteed to soothe your frazzled nerves. Even now, when all you wanted to do was bitch and moan about how you were never going to see the light of day again, he somehow managed to distract you, amuse you. Theo always knew how to turn a bad situation around and, well, to someone as catastrophic as you, what could sound more appealing?

Game after game, time began to blur. The cards whispered as they slid over each other in his hands, a hypnotic rhythm filling the silence between you. You let your head tilt back against the wall, exhaling slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little.

Your head lolled against your shoulder as you lazily watched Theo shuffle the cards for the umpteenth time.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you noted, tilting your head toward him.

He didn't look up from the cards. "A novel concept, I know."

You nudged him in the ribs and he gave an exaggerated wince.

"Watch it. There's no exit and I'm more than capable of beating your ass."

Theo laughed at that, openly and unabashed.

"You're going to beat my ass?"

"Just said I would, didn't I?"

Theo snorted, mumbling something somewhat affectionate under his breath. You turned away, hiding your grin. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes glittered with the thrill of being Theo's company - the only person who could keep up with you.

He continued shuffling the cards, a little slower now.

“I’m thinking.”

You looked back at him, once again interested. “Dangerous.”

He flicked a card at you without looking, and you batted it away with a grin. “Thinking about what?”

His shuffling slowed to a stop. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something.” You leaned even closer to him now, your knees brushing against his thigh. “Something broody and dramatic, I bet. Come on, spill.”

Theo exhaled through his nose. “Drop it.”

“Not a chance,” you chirped. "Just tell me what it is. Unless you’re scared.”

That got him. His jaw ticked, fingers tapping on the deck.

“Didn’t peg you for a coward, Nott,” you goaded, bumping your knee against his. “You can tell me.”

Theo let out a slow breath, his shoulders tensing. He shuffled the deck once more, but this time, his movements weren’t just for show. They were measured, thoughtful, almost like he was buying himself time.

You covered his hands with yours, stopping him. He glanced down to where the two of you were practically holding hands.

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”

You nodded. "Did you kill a man."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "No."

"Is it about the shuffling? Were you secretly roped into an underground gambling ring over the summer? Is that where you learnt all those tricks?"

You could tell he desperately wanted to smile but was stopping himself. "No," Theo said, his grip on your hand tightening.

"You started an underground gambling ring? Without me?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

You dropped your eyes to his crotch for a fraction of a second.

"Ach - not like t - that's not what I meant."

"I'm just messing with you." You ran a hand through his hair despite his desperate, one-handed attempts to bat you away. "Tell me already."

Theo hesitated. You became suddenly aware of how quiet the Room was. You felt an awful, sinking feeling in your stomach that maybe Theo was right. You weren't going to like what he had to say.

“I don’t mind being stuck here.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

He shifted beside you, tapping the deck of cards against his knee.

“I mean, yeah, it’s a bit ridiculous how we ended up here, but…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“It’s not the worst thing in the world. Being here. Being stuck here. With you.”

You stared at him. His eyes shone with that stupidly optimistic sincerity of his that you only saw glimpses of from time to time. He meant every single word.

His grip slackened. Wordlessly, you retracted your hand. How were you to bear this?

"You're right," you said in a voice thick with unshed tears. "That is absolutely ridiculous. It's downright - " your voice quivered. You brushed a hand across your eyes. "Downright laughable."

A sobering silence followed. You wondered if Theo was kicking himself for having opened his mouth in the first place. You wondered if you should say something.

"You really don't mind this?" you started hoarsely. You tilted your head to face him. "You don't mind me? I mean, I pelted you with Monopoly pieces while yelling abuse at you. I messed up your hair."

His mouth curved into that faint, breezy smile of his.

"'Course I don't mind it."

"Why not?" You should.

"'Cause it's you." It's you. It's always been you.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You felt the exhaustion of being trapped in here catching up to you. You rested your head on his clavicle. Hesitantly, he turned his head to press his lips to your temple.

"I have to be honest, Y/N," he muttered against your hair. "I don't know if we're getting out of here."

"S'alright." You pressed a tiny kiss to his shoulder. "There's nothing I'd rather than do, either."

It's what all this loving him, hating him, wanting him boiled down to. Interlacing his long, careful fingers with your own, you decided that yes, there was no one else you'd rather be stuck with.

#I rlly dont know how to shut up in my authors notes huh #😭😭😭#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #hogmarch2025

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 years ago

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Snowball and Jealousy

Hello everyone!

As chosen in the survey, here is a Christmas story with Leah Williamson! I hope you like it:) I imagined it in the same world as Fire and Ice 1 and 2.

Also it's longer than I first thought.

Happy reading!

TW: Still none.

You started dating Leah a little over a year ago, a few weeks before Christmas. Both felt it was too early to officially introduce yourself to your respective families, so you flew to Norway, your home country, to reunite with your family and spend the holidays with them. That didn’t stop you from thinking about Leah about every secondm and you had to refrain from harassing her with messages. You know very well how much the blonde cares about her family and how much she cherishes the moments spent with them.

This year, though, you’re going to spend Christmas with the Williamsons. You have already met Leah’s parents, brother and grandparents, but it’s true that you have not yet met everyone officially. I mean, that was before you walked into the huge house of one of her aunts, with almost all of the Williamsons. Hearing the noise, you instinctively take back a few steps, despite your hand tenderly entwined in Leah’s. She laughed at you and your sister-in-law patted you on the shoulder.

"Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it" she told you before Leah laid a kiss on your cheek.

"Let’s go find my grandmother" Leah says, and you agree.

It was a long way to get to her. You probably had time to greet everyone in the room before you got to her. You don’t have a large family on your side, your parents have made the choice to have three children because they themselves were only children. So you don’t have any cousins, while Leah has so many that you can’t remember all their names.

"Oh, my favorite, finally!" said the old woman, joyfully, holding out her arms in your direction.

You smile at her and willingly give her a hug letting go of Leah’s hand for the first time since you arrived.

"Well hello to you too Nan" says Leah sarcastically before kissing her grandmother.

You exchange a few words with her, which you appreciate very much. You miss your family when you are in England and she quickly took the role of the grandmother of heart. Which Leah seems to enjoy immensely, despite her teasing.

"Let’s go find our place" Leah said after a few minutes, when her aunt asked everyone to sit down.

You follow her closely and you have no trouble locating your seats, next to Jacob, Leah’s brother and his girlfriend. There you meet new cousins of Leah and you find yourself quickly to be part of their conversation. After the second entrance, you noticed that a girl around you and Leah’ age look in your direction very often. The first times your eyes crossed you thought it must be a coincidence, but with the passing of time you are not so sure.

"Who is it?" you discreetly ask Leah, leaning in her direction.

Leah’s gaze briefly flies in the direction you show her before she rolls with her eyes.

"Hailey, a cousin. We never got along, we only see each other at Christmas"

The answer makes you gently frown, you thought Leah loved every member of her family deeply. Seeing your look, Leah smiles at you and kisses your cheek, whispering that she will explain to you later. You nod again, putting your hand on her leg.

"Christmas games!" Leah’s uncle happily screams after everyone’s entries are over.

A big smile appears on Leah’s face, a smile you know well. The same as when someone offered a game of Fifa, the same one she has before a game of Uno. The one who announces that she will take the competition to heart and who amuses you a lot. Leah’s competitive spirit is known to everyone, as is her bad losing side. It amuses you a lot, especially when you have to cover her with hugs and kisses to cheer her up when she lose.

You smile a little less that said when the draw separates you from her. Luckily you find yourself with Jacob’s girlfriend, Joanna, as well as Hailey. You have unfortunately forgotten the names of other people, except James who is one of the children of his cousins.

"So you’re Leah’s new girlfriend?" Hailey says as you watch Leah’s team thrown into a game of Piccionnary.

"They’ve been together for a year and a half, I wouldn’t use the term new" laughs Joanna, sitting on the other side of you.

You nod and just smile, not taking your blonde out of your eyes. You smile as you see her little dance of joy and you find yourself letting your eyes slide over a particular part of her anatomy when she leans over to take a pen. Of course, this is the time she chooses to look back at you. Her amused smile and arched eyebrow make you understand that she perfectly understood what you were doing. You smile back and shrug, who can blame you for ogling your girlfriend?

"You’re from Norway, right?" asks Hailey

You turn your attention to her to answer her, also answering the questions she asks you about your native country. You could talk about it for hours. You’ve taken Leah twice already there and you can’t wait to leave for a whole week with her at least in January. You have to admit that you get a little lost in your conversation and you wonder why Leah and she don’t get along. She looks pretty nice. You don’t notice that says Leah’s upset look at you from a distance.

When the game is over, Leah quickly makes her way to you and puts her two hands on the armrests of your chair to lean over you.

"Come breathe some fresh air with me?"

"With pleasure" you smile

Leah doesn’t back down when you get up even if she gets up when you do. Your lips ghost hers, causing electric currents throughout your body. Your smile expands and you let her willingly put a kiss on your lips, before grabbing your hand to train you in the snowy garden. All of that, ignoring her cousin with perfection.

Children, dressed from head to toe, run and play, shouting joyfully. A soft smile appears on your face this time, the memories of your winters in Norway coming to mind. Since there are fewer people, you allow yourself to put your two arms around Leah’s waist and let yourself go against her. A year and a half has passed and you still find it frustrating not being able to touch her as much as you would like. But Leah is more of the kind to be discreet without being secret and you obviously respect her choices. On the other hand, you don’t see yourself going into an intense kissing session in public.

Leah puts her arms around you and puts several kisses on your face.

"Great victory" you do mischievously.

"As if it was going to happen otherwise" Leah replies with a goofy grin.

"I’m disappointed though, I won’t need to give you dozens of kisses to make you forget your defeat."

Leah laughs and you look up at her with a smile on her face. You love her laughter and being the reason of it.

"So, what’s the deal with Hailey?" you ask after a few minutes.

"Nothing special except she spent her teenage years flirting with my girlfriends or crushes and trying to steal them from me." sighs Leah, frowning. "It worked one time"

"Oh" you mumble while playing with her sweater. "She even tried with Jordan?"

"She never met Jordan. The first time she was in Australia and then Jordan was in her family. I didn’t really want them to meet, to be honest."

"Why?" you ask while frowning.

"I didn’t particularly want to see my girlfriend get picked up by my cousin."

The answer is logical, but your question involved something else. Leah has always been very honest with you about her relationship with Jordan. But you have to admit that to see that some people always seem to regret their relationship while you don’t hide yours… It’s painful. It obviously has nothing to do with a confidence you wouldn’t have in Leah, quite the contrary. You have complete and complete confidence in her. But your mind doesn’t wait à second to play with you. Are you less important on Leah’s life than Jordan was?

"Why am I here then?" you whisper after a moment of silence, trying to ignore the strange sensation in the pit of your belly.

"I thought she would have changed over time" sighed Leah "I was wrong."

Your insecurities give way to misunderstanding this time. You rise your eyes again, so that you can observe her at best.

"What are you talking about?" you ask while frowning.

"Oh please Babe, don’t tell me you didn’t notice her little game"

"We were just talking about Norway?"

You are lost and you look at Leah without understanding what she means. The pretty blonde looks at you a few seconds before smiling and rolling her eyes, realizing you aren't playing with her.

"It’s true that you have trouble realizing when someone is interested in you, I practically had to jump on you in a hospital bed for you to realize it"

You pout, even if your memories of that moment are intact in your memory. Like your first kiss, for that matter.

"When someone talks to you looking into your eyes, leaning in your direction with a hand on your arm or your knee, it’s an seduction attempt, Y/N."

"Oh."

Leah rolls her eyes again and smile before biting the corner of your jaw with a playful air on her face. You shove her elbow playfully, trying to escape her hold. You finally succeed, running away. Your feet slide on the snow trampled by others before you, but you manage to get away from Leah, passing the corner of the house. Knowing that you will not be able to walk away for a very long time, you take advantage of the few seconds that you have to take a handful of snow and turn it into a ball.

When Leah appears at the corner of the building, you send her the snowball, aiming a little too well since it arrives in full head. Fortunately, you didn’t squeeze the ball too much and the snow spread quickly in all directions and doesn't hurt her. It doesn’t seem to soften Leah, who stops dead and looks you right in the eyes.

"You’re so dead, Darling."

You swallow. You're so dead.

"I’m sorry?"

She resumes her race to catch you and you try to keep her in distance but she managed to catch you after a few meters, tackling you in the snow. The cold and humidity make you squeek, but it doesn’t stop Leah straddling your waist.

"I thought the Norwegians weren’t afraid of the cold?" said Leah maliciously, leaning over you.

"I never said anything about the snow getting in my clothes"

Leah laughs and throws you a handful of snow in the face to make a good figure and not show how much she has a soft spot for you. She has a reputation to uphold after all. But that doesn’t stop her from helping you rise up and take you back against her right after. You sigh at ease while putting yourself against her, your face in the hollow of her neck.

"I’m glad you’re here" said Leah after a few seconds, her lips in your hair.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm" she hums softly. "Just remind me to make sure to keep you away from Hailey next time."

"Will I really need to remind you?"

Your request is made with a small laugh and you lift yourself from her to look at her with amusement. Jealousy is a trait that you didn’t prepare for in her. But since you consider it a proof of love, it’s far from disturbing you. She’s jealous, but not so possessive. The difference is important to you.

"No, certainly not" Leah laughs before kissing your lips. "You’re mine."

"Yours"

You barely have time to exchange a new kiss that a cry of child sounds near you, making you both turn. Covered in snow from head to toe, James seems satisfied to find Leah.

"Lee! Jacob said the Arsenal players suck and then he threw me in the snow!"

"What?! I’m coming!"

Without hesitation, Leah hurries to join James and the Arsenal defenders in the snowball battle that began outside the house. When you come back with Leah’s coat, she’s already soaked, but she accepts it with pleasure. Her gloves too. And since you’re here, she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you before training you in battle. After all, it’s also your duty to defend Arsenal, right?

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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ideeperscrittori · 2 months ago

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IO E IL GRANDE OSPEDALE

Trovi i palazzi del Grande Ospedale in un ordinatissimo quartiere residenziale. Sono circondati dal verde delle aiuole e degli alberi.

Tira aria di decoro urbano ed esclusione sociale. Ma non ci pensi mentre varchi la soglia. Ora esisti solo tu. Non pensi a chi vive ai margini, alle moltitudini che stanno peggio di te, a chi non ha il privilegio di essere un cittadino europeo munito di tessera sanitaria, alle catastrofi che affliggono il mondo.

Il tuo sguardo non va oltre il piccolo recinto comparso quando il linfoma si è tramutato in dolore. Ora sei egoista, capriccioso, vigliacco e privo di nobiltà d'animo. Sei immerso nei tuoi "perché proprio a me?" e credi di essere la persona più sfortunata del pianeta. Non c'è niente di più falso, ma la tua obiettività è evanescente.

Pensi a tutta la carta accumulata nel tuo zaino: ricette, lettere di dimissioni, programmi terapeutici, certificati, esenzioni. E hai una convinzione: non riuscirai a gestire tutto questo.

Ti concentri sulla Sacra Trinità delle cose che non puoi smarrire: documenti, chiavi di casa, confezione dell'oppioide salvifico che trasforma il dolore lancinante in un fastidio sopportabile.

È l'unica Trinità in cui credi.

Poi entri in un edificio e il verde scompare. Sei nel cuore del Grande Ospedale, in un centro commerciale della sanità, nelle grinfie di un mostro burocratico.

Per le analisi del sangue e per l'ennesima visita devi fare l'accettazione nel reparto ematologico. Sei già lì alle otto del mattino.

Nove persone ti precedono. Sembrano poche, ma tutto è relativo. La cosa va per le lunghe. C'è sempre un meccanismo che si inceppa e spesso si tratta di sistemi operativi e stampanti. Occorre un sacco di tempo per sputare fuori ogni singolo foglio. La gente è nervosa, tu sei nervoso, le incolpevoli impiegate fanno da parafulmine. Una settimana fa le stampanti erano fuori uso e la gente in attesa era sul punto di far scoppiare una rivolta.

Arriva il tuo turno. Ti danno un malloppo di fogli. Fai subito le analisi del sangue, ma poi tutto si complica.

All'accettazione non sanno indicarti il luogo della visita ematologica. L'unico che lo sa è un certo Giovanni (nome di fantasia). Saperlo è il suo lavoro: in quest'era iperconnessa, la preziosa informazione è inspiegabilmente confinata nel suo computer. Giovanni sta in un piccolo ufficio dietro una porta a vetri. Devi trovarlo e farti indicare la stanza segreta. Scoprirai che si trova dall'altra parte del labirinto ospedaliero.

Camminare ti costa fatica, ma raggiungi la stanza a furia di interpellare i passanti e grazie a Nadia, la generosa amica che ti accompagna in questo tortuoso viaggio (menzione speciale per Simona, Luca e Raffaele: ti hanno salvato in altre occasioni).

Ma non è finita. Chiedi informazioni per conoscere i passi successivi e un uomo col camice ti mette in guardia: in quell'ala dell'edificio, prima di recarsi alla visita, bisogna superare un altro ostacolo; devi fare quello che chiamano "accodamento" nel milionesimo ufficio di accettazione. È la prima volta che ne senti parlare. Non ha alcun senso.

Segui il suo consiglio e ora reggi un foglio che indica il tuo status di "accodato".

Vai nella sala d'attesa. C'è il solito erogatore di foglietti con i numeri che indicano il turno. Ne prendi uno, ma potrebbe non servire. In certi giorni è completamente inutile, perché la comparsa del numero su un monitor è solo un'illusione. Te ne accorgi quando bussi alla porta e ti rispondono: "Deve attendere la nostra chiamata. Non c'è ancora il risultato delle analisi". In tal caso l'attesa può durare anche parecchie ore.

Oggi sei più fortunato del solito. Il numero svolge la sua funzione e il tuo turno arriva in tempi ragionevoli. Nella stanza c'è una dottoressa che hai incrociato mesi fa, perché spesso ti capita di essere visitato da una persona verosimilmente estratta a sorte, diversa da quella vista una settimana prima. Il "medico di riferimento" è un'entità obsoleta.

La dottoressa va dritta al punto: "Il referto dell'ultima biopsia non è ancora pronto". Aggiunge che domani dovrai tornare nel Grande Ospedale, perché metteranno nel tuo corpo il catetere venoso indispensabile alla somministrazione delle terapie. Ti comunica che devi fare un'altra TAC e un'altra PET. Vista l'urgenza, stavolta avrai l'onore di una TAC nel Grande Ospedale. Ma devi provare a prenotarla tu nel reparto di Medicina Nucleare.

Oggi è l'8 maggio. Ecco le indicazioni della dottoressa: raggiungere il reparto di Medicina Nucleare; fissare TAC e PET entro il 21 maggio; contattare il reparto in caso di problemi".

Tutto è predisposto per una clamorosa conferma della Legge di Murphy.

Fai un'altra faticosa camminata verso il reparto di Medicina Nucleare, un luogo talmente imbucato fra numerose gallerie che un'infermiera incrociata a metà strada non conosce la sua esatta ubicazione. Alla fine lo trovi, sempre col sostegno della tua amica Nadia.

Vai all'accettazione e ottieni il responso: nei prossimi mesi non ci sono TAC e PET per te, povero sfigato che non ha il buon gusto di essere un cliente pagante del Grande Ospedale. Il pensiero corre al chimerico 21 maggio e fai una mezza risata nella tua testa.

"Contattare il reparto in caso di problemi". La profezia si è avverata. Una volta a casa, lasci un messaggio alla segreteria telefonica di Ematologia per far sapere che in effetti i problemi si sono verificati. Poi dormi.

Il giorno dopo torni nel Grande Ospedale per l'inserimento del catetere venoso. Devi raggiungere il Day Hospital Ematologico.

Solite trafile burocratiche. Con te c'è ancora l'amica Nadia.

Prima di recarti al Day Hospital, fai un altro esperimento al reparto di Medicina Nucleare, per poter dire che non ti sei arreso di fronte al primo inconveniente. L'impiegato individua una data precisa per TAC e PET: è all'inizio di ottobre. Rispondi con un sorriso mesto.

Non c'è bisogno di lasciare un messaggio alla segreteria di Ematologia. Lo hai già fatto ieri. L'incombenza della prenotazione passa ad altri. Non capisci il perché di questi velleitari tentativi affidati a te. Tuttavia, come sempre, hai una certezza: la dottoressa che ti ha chiesto di provarci è dalla tua parte, è una brava persona, non ha colpe. Lo hai letto nel suo tono di voce privo di grandi speranze. La verità era scritta nella sua profezia finale, nell'offerta di una via d'uscita in caso di problemi.

La colpa è del sistema, del mostro burocratico, della sanità pubblica ridotta in coriandoli.

Ora il tuo giudizio sul Grande Ospedale è una bocciatura che quasi non concede possibilità di riscatto.

Poi accade l'imponderabile: il classico fiore nel deserto; una parziale redenzione.

Nel Day Hospital, ovvero il posto in cui si fanno le terapie, trovi una carezza inaspettata. Trovi un'umanità talmente sorprendente che ti sembra quasi di essere in un'altra dimensione. Non ci sei abituato. Tutto il personale, persino quello dell'ennesima accettazione, ti tratta come una creatura fragile e preziosa che in questo momento ha bisogno di aiuto e dev'essere guidata, consolata, presa per mano. Ora sei Danilo, un tipo lamentoso e pieno di paure, ma anche un essere umano di cui prendersi cura.

Ripensi alla frase di un'amica afflitta dalla tua stessa malattia: "Il reparto era come una famiglia". Per la prima volta hai percepito quel calore. Forse è successo perché qui si avverte la durezza dello scontro fra la cura e il cancro. Senza umanità non si sopravvive.

Mentre inseriscono il catetere con una procedura eco-guidata, ti parlano con dolcezza. Noti perfino un interesse sincero per i tuoi progetti.

Stravaganti associazioni di idee ti portano a ricordare lotte sociali, bandiere anarchiche e altre passioni rimaste sepolte in un angolo della tua coscienza che ha preso polvere per troppi giorni.

Forse nella solidarietà del Day Hospital c'è il seme di una piccola ribellione. Pu�� succedere dappertutto, persino nel Grande Ospedale.

Questo pensiero ti fa venire la pelle d'oca.

Sei ancora un codardo lamentoso. Ma hai un altro difetto: ti commuovi facilmente. E per un attimo sei felice.

[L'Ideota]

#linfoma non hodgkin #ospedale #burocrazia #picc #caro diario

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squidkola · 9 months ago

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And the final entry into this little series! I think this is like, the first time I finally finished something I wanted to commit to. It’s a small one but a victory nonetheless.

Last but certainly not least is Nigel Uno as Hunter from TOH, my favorite characters from their respective series, sorta. Nigel is more so my favorite of the main 5 and Hunter is in a similar boat with TOH gang. Still absolutely love these guys they make me happy 💕

Once again, I started this a day early on accident, but at the same time it kinda worked in my favor. So, with that said, I hope everyone has a great Halloween tomorrow!

#knd #kids next door #codename kids next door #cknd #nigel uno #numbuh 1 #number 1

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thetreehousechronicles · 11 days ago

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HOW DO OPERATIVES GET INTO THE TND?

Not every KND operative becomes a Teen Next Door. In my version of the KND universe, the TND works like a promotion system. It’s not automatic—only top-tier operatives get invited. You have to hit certain marks to qualify!

TND Entry Requirements:

Leadership Assessment

Can the operative lead missions, command teams, and make smart decisions in tough moments?

Emotional Maturity & Composure

How well do they handle pressure, loss, and disagreements?

Field Performance

How well do they perform on missions? What’s their success rate and teamwork like?

Specialization or Tactical Skill

Do they bring a unique skill, like tech use, spying, healing, or engineering?

Discipline & Rule Adherence

Do they follow mission rules and the chain of command?

Recommendation Reports

Do high-ranking operatives vouch for them?

Minimum Average Score: 4 Stars and higher + 1 Outstanding in a Key Area

Visual show:

1 to 5 stars (⭐)

⭐ = Poor

⭐⭐ = Needs Improvement

⭐⭐⭐ = Satisfactory

⭐⭐⭐⭐ = Strong

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ = Outstanding

Numbuh 1 – Nigel Uno

Leadership: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Excellent strategist and leader)

Emotional Maturity: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Usually calm, though gets stubborn)

Field Performance: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Always mission-focused and effective)

Special Skill: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Tactics, battle planning)

Discipline: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Follows protocol to the letter)

Average Score: 4.8 Stars

Recommendations: Numbuh 362 + Global Command

Eligible for TND (Promoted to GKND instead)

Numbuh 2 – Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr.

Leadership: ⭐⭐⭐ (Not often in command, but supports well)

Emotional Maturity: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Chill, but hides feelings with humor)

Field Performance: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Solid pilot and mission support)

Special Skill: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Genius with tech, inventor)

Discipline: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Follows rules but adds jokes)

Average Score: 4.1 Stars

Recommendations: Tech Division + Command

Eligible for TND (Accepted)

Numbuh 3 – Kuki Sanban

Leadership: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Soft leader when needed, shows strength)

Emotional Maturity: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Often underestimated, but emotionally strong when it counts)

Field Performance: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Good team support, surprisingly tactical)

Special Skill: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Espionage, distractions, emotional intel)

Discipline: ⭐⭐⭐ (Can be a wildcard but means well)

Average Score : 4.O

Recommendations: Surprising reviews post-high-risk missions

Eligible for TND (Accepted)

Numbuh 4 – Wallabee Beetles

Leadership: ⭐⭐ (Struggles when in charge; prefers action)

Emotional Maturity: ⭐⭐ (Very impulsive and hotheaded)

Field Performance: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Strong fighter and front-liner)

Special Skill: ⭐⭐⭐ (Good with combat tools and tech driving)

Discipline: ⭐⭐ (Breaks protocol often)

Average Score: 3.0 Stars

Recommendations: No active senior recommendation at time of review

Not Eligible for TND – Decommissioned

Numbuh 5 – Abigail Lincoln

Leadership: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Strong second-in-command energy)

Emotional Maturity: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Level-headed, mature)

Field Performance: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Reliable and effective)

Special Skill: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Espionage, stealth, candy intel)

Discipline: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Usually sticks to the mission)

Average: 4.3

Recommendations: Sector Leaders, Post-Mission Reviews

Eligible for TND (Accepted)

#codename knd #knd #headcanon #wallabee beatles #numbuh 4 #kuki sanban #numbuh 3 #hoagie gilligan #numbuh 2 #nigel uno #numbuh 1 #abigail lincoln #numbuh 5 #sector v

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shadowyzipperherohairdo · 2 months ago

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Ho appena saputo che due tizi, uno tunisino, uno terrone, hanno ammazzato di botte un ragazzino di 19 anni. Di botte!!! Ci rendiamo conto?!?!Uno era appena uscito di prigione per aver accoltellato e rovinato per sempre la vita ad un' altra persona.

RIPRISTINARE LA PENA DI MORTE PER CERTI INDIVIDUI SAREBBE UN BENE.

A partire dai pedofili, stupratori e chiunque uccida qualcun'altro se nn per legittima difesa o se, naturalmente, entri in casa mia per rubare sono cazzi tuoi.

Basta mantenere certi individui schifosi per anni e anni, sono inutili problemi della società e vanno eliminati alla radice.

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brokenphoenix99 · 4 months ago

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FIRST/LAST LINE CHALLENGE

Rules: in a new post, show the first/last line you wrote or drew, and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Thank you for the tags, my LOVELIES!!! @loverboy-havocboy @adhd-coyote @mereelskirata @insertmeaningfulusername @snowywinterevenings ALL uno-reversed me for First and/or Last Lines 😅, and i was ALSO regular tagged again by @mereelskirata and @adhd-coyote LOL!

I'm so excited to share this @cloneshiprarepair WIP! My (late 🫣) entry for February's Boost/Sinker/Wolffe ☺️.

The First line was somewhere on the top of this helmet on the right.

The Last line was the diagonal line in the gauntlet plate.

I'm really hoping to get a little bit more done tomorrow - we have a public holiday - so no work!! \○/

Mwahahahah... UNO reversing everyone who tagged me 👆🏻 and also NPT for @whiskygoldwings @omaano @rexsterss @airlockfailure and @ct-55688 (your choice of first/Last lines or both)

#tag game #boost/sinker/wolffe #cloneshiprarepair wip #first line challenge #last line challenge #phoenix draws #my art #my wip #cloneshiprarepair2025 #clone ship #cloneshipping

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libriaco · 7 months ago

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In silenzio

Io non parlavo con nessuno perché sono di carattere così, bisogna che la gente mi entri un po’ nelle grazie. Invece con gli animali sono diverso, mi fido di più. Ma con la gente sono uno zitto, nove su dieci passo da ritardato.

S. Naspini, I Cariolanti [2009], Roma, edizioni e/o, 2020

#Naspini

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writeyouin · 1 year ago

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X GN-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

MALE VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @reverse-soe @x-uno

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.��

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

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