#I do recognize that part of his enthusiasm for doing anything with me was the romantic stuff :/ i was maybe using that a little bit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silverynight · 14 days ago

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Gym "buddies"

Izuku's life changes the moment All Might gives him his gym membership card; he assures him he doesn't need it anymore (he's retired after all) and wants him to use it instead.

Izuku is a quirkless young man whose job is making support gear and suits for pro heroes, however, since he often wears them and tries them himself, he likes to keep himself in good condition. So far, he's been training at home, but now he has the opportunity to go to a proper gym.

He thanks the symbol of peace, hugs him, and leaves with excitement in his eyes.

However, his enthusiasm vanishes when he arrives and realizes that there are only two kinds of people in that place: very rich ones and pro heroes.

And he doesn't belong to any of those groups. After a while he decides to stay since All Might even called the place to let them know Izuku was going instead of him.

He can't disappoint him now.

Nervous, he looks around only to see Uravity and Pinky talking happily to each other; part of Izuku wants to get closer to them and ask for an autograph, but he decides to control himself.

It's not like any of them could recognize him; the pro heroes don't have the time to go in person and ask for repairs to the support department, instead, they send assistants or people who work in their respective agencies to leave the suits.

Of course, there are exceptions, there always are.

"Midoriya!"

Izuku gets slightly startled as he notices Ingenium, waving at him before walking towards where he is.

He's one of the few heroes who has met Izuku.

"Ingenium-san, hi!"

"Please, we've talked about this, just call me Iida."

He nods, cheeks turning slightly pink as he notices the pro heroes around looking at them both with curiosity.

He relaxes as soon as Iida starts talking with him, asking about his job in general and answering Izuku's enthusiastic questions about his latest missions; he's used to those already.

The next day, Uravity introduces herself and upon realizing Izuku has worked on her hero suit, she starts looking at him with admiration and awe; he doesn't think there's anything about him worth admiring, but he doesn't point that out.

He gets to know a lot of pro heroes at that gym and none of them have tried to kick him out so far, even though he doesn't quite belong there.

Izuku's first week is amazing, and he believes there's nothing that can change his mind about it until the second week.

Turns out Dynamight goes to that gym too.

Actually, he's one of the current pro heroes Izuku admires the most, so Izuku is tempted to get closer at first, until he notices the explosive hero has been staring at him the whole time since he arrived.

He can't read the blond's expression, but he assumes Dynamight doesn't like him that much so Izuku decides to keep his distance from him.

He chooses a treadmill that's at the other side of the room to get started. Izuku takes a deep breath, relaxes, and closes his eyes for a few seconds until he hears someone pressing buttons on the treadmill next to him.

He almost falls off when he notices Dynamight. However, Izuku recovers quickly and decides to pretend nothing happened.

Although he swears he can feel the blond's red eyes on him the whole time.

After a while, he goes to one of the leg press machines before he notices that Dynamight is following him closely.

"You work for Hatsume."

Alright, now that he's talking to him, Izuku can't keep pretending he doesn't exist so he turns around to face him. The guy is not only taller but clearly stronger than him.

"Yes, I'm–"

"Midoriya Izuku, I know," Dynamight cuts him off, looking like he didn't mean to. His face turns a little bit pink.

"How do you know that?" He blurts out, genuinely curious.

The pro hero starts rubbing the back of his neck like he's nervous, and he looks away from Izuku for a moment before answering his question.

"I go to her lab often because I like to know exactly what's done to my suit," he admits. "I saw you for the first time a few months ago; Hatsume told me she had a new, very talented employee and that he was the one working on my gauntlets. I got closer to ask you personally what the hell you were doing to my stuff, but you were so happily focused I couldn't... interrupt you."

Izuku notices then, the fond smile curling up the corners of Dynamight's lips, and he regrets glancing at him because he looks very handsome when he actually smiles.

"Uhh..."

"I kept going after that, but you were always so focused on your work you never noticed me," the pro hero continues, pouting a bit. He's so used to the attention he probably doesn't like when he doesn't get it.

"I'm sorry, Dynamight-san..."

"I'm Katsuki, and I want you to call me by my name, Izuku."

His own name on the pro hero's lips sounds so intimate, Izuku blushes immediately. It's even worse when Katsuki notices and smirks at him.

"Ka..." Even trying it makes him feel flustered, so of course he immediately screws it. "Kacchan!"

The pro hero looks back at him in confusion and Izuku is seriously thinking about giving All Might his membership back and never going back to that place when Katsuki chuckles as he puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Fine, you can call me that if you want."

After that Katsuki always follows him whenever he's in the gym at the same time Izuku is; he even helps him when Izuku struggles to figure out new machines and makes a very intense workout routine for him.

Izuku is sure they're very good friends now, and he often laughs at his past self for believing Katsuki hated him.

He used to think he had a bad temper, but turns Bakugo Katsuki is a very sweet guy, although Izuku knows it's better not to say that out loud.

The most surprising thing about pro hero Dynamight is that he's rather clumsy, which is really weird considering he's so precise during his battles (Izuku has watched a few of those) but at the gym he's constantly dropping things and bumping into machines, especially when Izuku has his back on him and bends over to do a particularly difficult exercise.

It's so odd.

He hears a noise behind him and turns around only to find Katsuki on the floor, face red and a little bit of blood coming from one of his nostrils.

"Kacchan, are you alright?"

"He's fine, Midobro!" Kirishima grins, looking quite amused.

"What happened?"

"He got distracted by your... leggings."

Izuku looks at Red Riot in confusion before looking down at his legs; the leggings are not that bright, they're dark red and not flashy at all. He wonders what was that interesting about them that got Katsuki distracted.

"I see that leg day has been really good on you, bro," Kirishima points out, following Izuku's eyes. "You have very thick–"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, SHITTY HAIR!" Katsuki growls, rising from the ground before standing in the middle of Izuku and Kirishima. "Do you want to die?"

"Calm down, Bakubro!" Kirishima chuckles, looking quite relaxed. He's probably used to the other pro hero's displays of irritation. "I'm just being nice to our friend!"

"Fine!" Katsuki says, but he still pushes Izuku behind himself even more, although he does it gently.

***

After an intense workout routine, Izuku ends up on the floor, exhausted. A hand touches his forehead as a big shadow looms over him for a moment.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, just give me a second, Kacchan."

The same hand appears in front of him, and Izuku wakes it without hesitation. Before he can even blink, he's back on his feet already.

Katsuki hands him a bottle of cold water.

"Thank you!" It's been barely a month, but it feels like Katsuki has known him his whole life.

Sometimes it's like he can hear Izuku's thoughts.

"Come, nerd. I'll take you to your apartment."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I have time today."

Katsuki also pays him quick visits to Hatsume's lab, and he actually stays there and talks to him. Izuku takes his break whenever he appears.

"I'm glad you finally decided to talk to your crush," Hatsume tells him the first time the pro hero draws Izuku's attention by saying his name. "It was a bit sad to watch you pine and give him the heart eyes in silence."

"SHUT UP!"

"Kacchan, relax," he chuckles, as he notices him turning bright red at the young woman's words. "She's just joking!"

Because there's no way that's true. Hatsume probably just wants to piss Katsuki off. He'd never look at Izuku with love in his eyes.

It's ridiculous.

Usually, Hatsume doesn't like having pro heroes there, but she makes an exception with Katsuki because he helps them test new gear, especially the magnetic shields she has designed for some heroes.

Besides, she likes watching things explode.

Although the number of times Katsuki is there has led to some of Izuku's coworkers getting the wrong idea about them.

Even the pro heroes at the gym ask Izuku the weirdest questions every now and then.

"We're more like... gym buddies?" Even that sounds odd coming from his mouth, Izuku has no idea why.

"I think you're saying gym boyfriends wrong, sweetie," Ashido chuckles, prompting Kaminari to laugh too.

It's a good thing Katsuki is on patrol that day; he would've gotten mad.

"No, I'm serious," Izuku says, turning bright red. "We're just friends!"

"Wow, Bakugo is an idiot," Kaminari gives Ashido a weird look.

"He totally is!" She agrees. "Anyone could try to steal this cutie if he doesn't hurry up!"

Izuku wants to tell them that their relationship is not like that, but it seems that no matter what he says they're not going to change their minds; they seem to believe Katsuki is secretly in love with him or something.

He has no idea why.

***

Izuku meets pro hero Shoto one Thursday evening; he just finished his work and headed straight to the gym.

When he sees him, he gets immediately flustered. It's not every day one gets to meet Japan's number two pro hero after all.

"Hi. I don't think I have ever seen you before."

Pro hero Shoto is very blunt sometimes.

"I've been coming here since September... so, yeah, I'm practically new here," Izuku smiles, prompting the pro hero to do the same. "I'm Midoriya Izuku!"

"Oh," finally, something akin to recognition in those mismatched eyes. "I've heard your name before. You fixed my suit last time it got destroyed by a villain, right?"

"Yes, that'd be me!"

"You did a great job. I was very impressed."

"Thank y-you, pro hero Shoto!"

"Please, call me Todoroki or just Shoto, if you want."

"Izuku!" Katsuki calls as soon as he walks in the gym. "Come here, I need to bench press you right now!"

He does that a lot lately; he uses Izuku instead of the very expensive equipment around, Katsuki assures him it's better that way, but he's not sure about that.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Todoroki comments then. "There's plenty of things you can use instead of Midoriya."

"What the hell are you doing here, half and half?"

"Toya and the old man got into a fight again," he says like it's nothing that surprises him anymore. "They were in our private gym when it happened, so it's destroyed now. It'll take a couple of days for the people we called to leave it as it was before. That's why I'm here."

Izuku is sure Todoroki doesn't say it to show off, but now he gets an idea of how rich he actually is.

He's so impressed he doesn't notice Katsuki until he's in front of him, almost like he wants to shield him from the other pro hero.

"Come with me, Izuku."

Todoroki looks from one to the other with curiosity.

"Is it really better if you try it with a person?" He asks before looking over Katsuki's shoulders, directly at Izuku: "Can I bench press you too, Midoriya?"

"FUCK OFF, HALF AND HALF!"

***

Todoroki becomes a good friend of his; he keeps coming to same gym as Izuku even after the one in his house is complete again.

Although, Katsuki gets a bit tense whenever he the three of them hang out; Izuku is not sure why, Ashido assured him they were in good terms, sure they're rivals, but they are also friends.

"Do you like half and half?"

"Absolutely, he's a great friend!"

"I don't mean it like that, nerd," Katsuki gets slightly irritated, as he usually does when Izuku doesn't understand what he's trying to say. "I mean if you like him... romantically."

"Oh!" Izuku blushes; he doesn't talk about romance around the pro hero... ever, so he gets a bit nervous, well, it's actually because the one he finds very attractive is Katsuki, but he's not going to say that. "No, I only see Todoroki as a friend."

Katsuki relaxes after that; they finish their routines like nothing happened, but the tension comes back to his shoulders after they take a shower and get ready to leave the gym.

Looking down at the floor instead of him, Katsuki takes one of Izuku's hands in his to stop him.

"What is it, Kacchan?"

"Would you like to go for a coffee with me?"

"Of course, although we usually do that!"

This time, Katsuki looks into his eyes before continuing: "No, I mean... as a date."

For a second, Izuku thinks he's dreaming, but he wouldn't blush that much in one of his dreams; he's usually more confident.

"Yes, I'd love to!"

Katsuki gives him one of those happy, devastating smiles of his before intertwining their fingers together.

Izuku needs to call All Might and thank him for that membership again, but he'll probably do that later.

He has to focus on his date with Katsuki first.

***

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#mha #bnha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #bkdk #bakudeku

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dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

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Heroes vs. Villains : Octavinelle [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Octavinelle vs. Rielle Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Octavinelle Version, Part 2 ie. Your red-headed hero arrives at Night Raven College and your other aquatic friends are less than enthused.

[PART 1] [PART 2]

The VDC is going to be one of the biggest events in Night Raven College’s history. It’s going to be spectacular, awe-inspiring, one for the history books. And somehow, by the grace of the Gods (or, well, Vil and Professor Crewel) you have tickets.

So naturally, Azul wants you to work through the entire thing.

“I know you don’t like people,” he’d smiled, as if he was offering you salvation on a silver platter. “And just think of it—all those crowds of sweaty, screaming, humans running around. It only seems right that I, as your employer and friend, do my due diligence to keep you safe during all of it, hmm?”

“We’re just thinking of your wellbeing,” Jade had piped in, a gloved hand pressed to his chest all innocent-like. You weren’t fooled for a second.

“And think of all the extra Thaumarks you’ll earn in tips!” Azul chirped. “I know being in a new world has been difficult for you in more ways than one, and that the financial burden in particular has been terribly unpleasant. So really, we’re just doing everything we can to assist you!”

Lies about being considerate for your ‘delicate mental health’ aside, money was good. Money was great. And besides, all you really cared about was the Choral Competition. As long as you could sneak away for that one, camping out in the Lounge didn’t actually seem like the worst idea in the world. The food was excellent, the atmosphere soothing, and the company was—

…Well.

‘Less than desirable’ would probably be an understatement. But Azul always let you take home the leftovers at the end of the night, and sometimes on colder nights Jade would make you a cup of cocoa with no mushrooms in it or anything. So maybe you could excuse a bit of sadism here and there.

So the VDC came and little, poor, you were squirreled away behind the gilded doors of the Mostro Lounge. Aside for the influx of costumers (and subsequent ‘event price hikes’), it was hardly different than any of your other shifts. The one notable difference was how often Azul swapped your station. Normally you were on door duty, or acting as part of the wait staff. But every time a group of RSA students strutted by in their fancy white uniforms, the Octo-Mer would shuffle you off to the kitchens. Or the bar. Or even his office sometimes, demanding assistance with clerical work.

Someone called your name and you lifted your head from your cloud of misery and menial labor—only half paying attention to the people you were ushering in towards the seating area. But instead of another unfamiliar blob waving you down, you actually recognized this guy. Him and his brilliant shock of red hair that you wouldn’t be able to miss from a mile away.

Lo – it was fork dude.

Or, well, Prince Rielle Tidal of Atlantica. But whatever. Man had pushed a utensil into your hands and told you to brush your hair with it. There was no coming back from that.

Your sun-kissed savior swerved through the line to greet you, nearly bowling you over in his enthusiasm. His RSA uniform was a blotch of bleached brightness against the sea of Night Raven’s black ensemble. Normally your rival academics seemed to travel in packs—safety in numbers and all that. But Rielle was weaving through the mass of grumpy NRC faces like he was perfectly at home.

“I decided to pop by to see Azul and his business—because, you know, he was always so smart and pragmatic so I knew it’d probably be really cool and whatever—but wow! It’s really you!”

“It’s really me,” you repeated, fighting to keep the chirp in your customer service voice. “So, would you like a table or—"

“Wait a second—Azul has you working during the festival?!” Rielle gawked, as if he was just realizing that he had stepped into a place a of business, and that you were wearing the uniform of said establishment. “That’s so cruel!”

Yes. Yes it was. But Azul was nothing if not cruel. And if this guy actually knew anything about him at all, he should be perfectly aware of that.

“Someone has to do it,” you shrugged. “Anyways, can I get you something to—”

“Wah, look at this! Shrimpy’s slackin’ on the job!”

Maybe you could put your head through the wall. That would probably be less painful.

Floyd, Jade, and Azul materialized behind you seemingly out of thin air. The terrible trio greeted your dour frown with varying degrees of spiteful glee. And… something else? There was a sort of tension about them that didn’t mesh with their usual haughtiness. It had cropped up for the first time a few weeks ago—that day at the beach. And subsequently the hours after when Jade had pulled Azul into his office to whisper all kinds of nonsense that was apparently ‘too delicate’ for you and whatever tolerance you’d built for these sociopaths.

“Actually, it’s my fault!” Rielle blurted, stepping smoothly in front of you with all the chivalry of a knight. You wanted to warn him that dipping into Floyd’s bite radius was a terrible idea, but at the same time, you were tired, and hungry, and very curious to see how this would all play out. “And I was just wondering��well… I—I mean…”

The young Prince was starting to splutter, his cheeks burning that same, hot, pink that they had all those weeks ago at the beach. He took a moment to clear his throat, compose himself, and then grasped your hands with both of his very neatly manicured ones.

You thought you heard someone gasp. Like in a period novel.

“I actually heard that you were at Night Raven too! And I’ve been looking all over for you! So—I—Would you—” More throat clearing. Floyd’s teeth were grinding together so loudly it almost sounded like a buzzsaw. “Do you want to get something to eat with me?”

There was a deafening crack and you watched as Jade nearly put Floyd through the floor in an attempt to keep him from lurching forward. You observed the scene before you with pleasant sort of surprise as the trio across from you erupted. Or, well, Floyd had erupted. Jade just had that perfectly polite smile on his mouth that let you know he was planning someone’s murder. And Azul looked like he’d just taken physical damage.

Huh. Interesting.

Then again, you’d known they were a proprietary bunch. And you also knew that you were the favorite chew toy around these parts. No one else was sturdy enough for the role, apparently.

“Oi, Princey,” Floyd snarled from behind Jade’s gloved fingers. “What do you think you’re—"

“I—” you interrupted, stepping between the rabid Merfolk and the would-be-mincemeat. “—would love to.”

Silence.

“…What?” Azul squawked.

“I’m due for my break anyways,” you shrugged, enjoying the horrible little surge of satisfaction warming your gut. Take that, you obnoxious fucks. You weren’t sure why Rielle and his crimson-monstrosity of a hairdo had set the three of them off so terribly, but you’d been on your feet for hours now. And missing all the food stalls, and your other friends, and you were going to take this petty revenge where you could.

You turned to Rielle with a polite little smile that you hoped looked more demure than scheming, and his eyes sparkled.

“You don’t mind eating here, do you?” you asked before shooting Azul an award-winning grin. “I’m sure having a Prince dining in would be great advertisement.”

“But of course,” he grit out. “Who would I be to turn down such a ringing endorsement.”

Rielle tossed an amiable arm across your shoulders and laughed that tinkling, church-bell, laugh of his. Floyd’s lip twitched and Azul snagged his arm quicker than a snake could strike. The snarling behemoth was promptly dragged off into the depths of the Lounge—Azul muttering something frantically under his breath that you couldn’t make out. He looked hunched, panicked. And whatever he was saying must have been serious enough to snag Floyd’s fickle attentions, because the too-tall henchman stayed firmly at his boss’s side. The pair of them vanished into the kitchens, the door slamming behind them.

“Just this way then, if you’d please,” Jade beamed, positively glacial.

“This’ll be great!” the Prince preened, keeping a loose grip on you as you both trailed a very stiff Eel through the front parlor. “I get to see all of Azul’s awesome accomplishments and have lunch with you at the same time!”

“The Mostro Lounge is a lovely place to dine,” you chirped, repeating your familiar, scripted, server prompts from memory. “There’s something for everyone.”

“Is that so?” Rielle hummed, as if in deep thought. “That’s very considerate of them.”

Plenty of people at this school liked to insult your intelligence, and you in turn liked to remind certain someones (Ace. Sebek.) that it was best not to throw stones in glass houses. But this was—you may have really found an actual, factual, ditz. Was this how Azul felt all the time? Looking down at you mere mortals with his superior IQ and cunning? Listening to Rielle’s innocent rambling made you feel like Einstein. It was… sort of nice.

My God, you were going to have be responsible for him, weren’t you? Is that was parenthood felt like?

Jade led you to a quiet booth in the back—the one with a direct line of sight to both the kitchens and Azul’s office. The one reserved for problem customers. You folded yourself neatly onto the cushioned bench and Rielle followed, sitting at your side rather than across the table. Something in Jade’s jaw twitched.

“What do you recommend?” Rielle asked you cheerfully, practically radiating enthusiasm. “I’m sure everything is fantastic!”

“Hmm… How about the Mixed Seafood Platter to start I think,” you grinned, turning your polite beam back on your unfortunate server. “With the Unagi, please.”

Beneath all that bubbling irritation, something in those bi-colored eyes gleamed with the barest hint of respect.

“But of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

Once Jade had retreated, Rielle relaxed back into his seat with a theatrical sigh. He brushed his neat swoop of hair off his forehead, like he was wiping away sweat from a workout.

“Phewf! Not that Azul’s friends aren’t nice and all, but they always give me a bit of the heebie-jeebies.”

That was the kindest word for ‘intense murderous aura’ that you’d ever heard.

“A bit, yeah,” you agreed easily enough. “So how do you know Azul?”

“Oh!” he perked right back up. “We were classmates! When we were younger. He was always really quiet, but also really smart! Is he still like that? Quiet—I mean. Reserved.”

A memory struck you then—of standing at Azul’s side in the lobby of the Atlantica Memorial Museum. You remembered his hesitant determination as he replaced his old class photo on the wall. The picture of a tiny, rounder, Azul standing off to the side—hunched, grey, and miserable amidst a sea of laughing faces. You couldn’t remember if there had been a brilliant slash of red mixed in there anywhere. You hadn’t even bothered to check. Because why would you have even deigned to look at the faces of a group of bullies?

Something soured in your gut.

“I wouldn’t say that, no,” your smile sharpening a bit at the edges. “He’s actually very talkative. It’s hard to get him to shut up most of the time.”

“Really?” Rielle gaped. “Wow! That’s awesome!”

Jade slithered by to drop off your appetizers, and if he noticed the slight drop in your mood he didn’t mention it. He was in and out in a flash. You could just see the whisps of his teal hair disappearing back into Azul’s office.

“Enough about Azul though,” Rielle waved off, reaching for the platter. “Tell me about you!”

“Me?” you echoed, bland. “But isn’t Azul your old friend?”

The Prince waved you off once more, cheeks pinkening all over again. “I can talk to him whenever. I’d much rather hear about you! You’re—You’re interesting!”

Now, that was probably a genuine compliment. You doubted Rielle actually meant to slight your friend companion boss by implying that the most ambitious, intelligent, cunning, and well-dressed merman on campus wasn’t interesting enough to converse about—that all of Azul’s efforts to bring himself out of the shadows and onto center stage were still wanting. But that bitter thing in your stomach was raring for a fight.

So you ruffled around in your uniform pocket and pulled out the little notebook you used to tally orders. You shot Rielle the brightest, sweetest, smile you could and watched his stupidly pretty face light up redder than his hair.

“Actually,” you giggled—giggled. Like a freak. “I’d love to hear about you.”

“He’s going to say something!—”

“What doesn’t Shrimpy already know, huh?” Floyd griped. “And I mean, didn’t you steal Ramshackle? You really think bubble-butt out there can do anything to make the Prefect hate you?”

Azul paced. And paced. And paced.

“It’s not about hating me,” he hissed, fighting the urge to wring his hands. “It’s about realizing there are better options out there, and—”

“Bubble-butt is a better option?!” Floyd cackled.

“Stop interrupting me!”

“Then stop whining,” the eel droned, flopping his head back against the couch. “You shoulda just let me squeeze ‘em.”

“We do not need to spark an international incident in my restaurant,” Azul repeated. Though it sounded less like he was trying to convince Floyd than himself. “Rielle Tidal is a Prince—”

“—a shitty, turd, leftover, Prince—”

“—who we must treat,” Azul grit out, “as such.”

There was a firm rap against the door and Jade slipped inside. Azul had to fight the reflex to pounce on him immediately. Instead he took a moment to pause and straighten his suit jacket. His fingers were shaking and he was sure that Jade would have seen, but thankfully there seemed to be a single shred of mercy left in his Vice-Warden’s cold, withered, heart, and the trembling limbs were not mentioned.

Jade cleared his throat and Azul leaned forward, anxious.

“I think you may be overthinking things,” he said, calm as a cucumber, and Azul wanted to scream.

“It’s not paranoia, it’s being prepared,” he snipped. A pause. “But why do you say that? What happened? Did something happen?”

Jade smiled that placid smile of his. “No.”

“No?” Azul repeated, flabbergasted.

“No,” Jade shrugged.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Floyd piped in.

Azul was just about to turn and remind his wonderful subordinate just how terrible he could make his existence when there was another knock at the door—lighter than Jade’s but just as familiar. Not a moment later, your head popped through the crack and you peaked inside wearily.

Azul hastily cleared his throat and Jade’s grin turned smug.

“Pr-Prefect! Can I help you with something?”

Floyd snickered under his breath and Azul mentally added another three hours onto the bastard’s nightly dish duties.

You stepped inside and tossed a tiny notebook down onto his desk.

“Here,” you said, with a grumpy sort of frown on your face. “All of Prince Rielle of Atlantica’s stupid wants, hopes, and dreams. You better be able to put this to good use you stupid mafioso wannabe, because I’ve been listening to this guy ramble on about himself for ages now, and I’d rather get drowned by Jade and Floyd again.”

You turned without another word and slammed the door behind you.

Azul gaped wordlessly at the pile of tiny pages splattered across his desk, and the familiar curl of your handwriting filling each and every one of them.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Oh indeed,” Jade grinned.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #Jade Leech x reader #Azul Ashengrotto x reader #Floyd Leech x reader #Rielle x reader #My Writing #Octavinelle x reader #twst x reader #the tweels #jade leech #floyd leech #Rielle #Heroes vs. Villains #Heroes vs Villains Octavinelle Part 2

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 6 months ago

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Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 5 ]

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Back from the dead… Did you miss my loves? ;) Fair warning: this part is a bit tedious and emotional. Also, please go check out @lustylita. Their art is divine, and I'm addicted to seeing it! I bet you'll love their work, too!

WARNINGS; [ MDNI ] + [ MENTIONS & DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD & HORROR ] + [ PREGNANCY TROPE...I know but just deal with it for now... ] + [ANGST ] + [ CANNIBALISM ]

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There was so much blood; it was all you could see, painted over every surface you laid your eyes on.

It drenched your skin, trickling from your shaky hands to the void below your feet, filling the space drop by drop like an un-fillable pool.

A heavy smell of iron and decay engulfed your senses, pungent and nauseating. It was nothing like you'd imagined the color red to smell, far from the sweet scent of a blossoming spring rose or a freshly picked basket of crisp apples. The texture did nothing to offset the unsettling substance; it was lukewarm, thick, and seemingly unable to dissipate.

You tried wiping it away, smearing it on any other surface but your skin; however, more would congeal out of thin air. It was frightening, maddening even, and you became desperate to wipe it off with all your might.

Why wouldn't it just disappear?

Where was it coming from?!

Were you going to drown in it?!

An overwhelming shroud of dread consumed you, a scream of utter horror ripping from your chest as the blood beneath your feat rose rapidly, and all you could do was stumble in it: no doors, no openings, no light. Just an endless void produced a never-ending stream of horror that clung to you like glue. You'd never wanted to escape something so badly, falling to your knees as shock racked your minor form, "Let me out! Make it stop! Please, somebody, make it stop!"

Tears streamed down your face, disappearing into the sea of red, aiding nothing but your inner panic.

This had to be some nightmare. A terrible dream you'd awake from at any minute.

It had to be, or the distant screams that were emerging from the darkness would've taken shape into anything but the disfigured bodies floating around you. Each one more mangled the last, terror written over every corpse's face -what was left of it anyway- and you almost envied their deceased state. They'd long passed on, strangers to you, but ever present in these horrific nightmares that worsened the closer you got to giving birth. At least they were dead, fortunate enough to plague your nightmares and not endure this cycle of torture, but they were the sole reason you lost more and more sleep.

You knew this part of the nightmare well; those bodies would remain, but a familiar mix of voices would emerge. You recognized Alastor's sultry tone first, used to hearing it, but the childlike giggles that mingled after his words were newer to you.

"Curiouser and curiouser said little Alice…" he hummed in delight, earning another string of giggles and drawing your attention in their direction.

There he sat, an arm's length away from you, two small children nestled in his lap, their faces hidden behind the book in his hands.

"Alastor?.." you whispered, hoping to gain his attention, unsure if what you saw was real but desperate for a sense of safety. He didn't budge, continuing to read as if you'd never spoken, "The white rabbit scampered off faster and faster, leaving her to wonder and shout after him…"

The children in his lap swung their tiny feet excitedly, voices muffled as they inquired about the story, and Alastor chuckled at their enthusiasm.

What the fuck is happening?...

Anger and confusion consumed your thoughts, urging you to stand and stalk to where your husband sat. He still ignored you, eyes never leaving the book and his smile widening as you drew closer. It was then that you saw it: splatters of blood on his face, hands, and clothes.

Just the same as the night he went hunting, a memory you'd yet to forget, and it seemed your conscience refused to let it go. You tried again to gain his attention, stepping behind him to see the children he held, but he gave no answer, and their faces appeared to blur.

Two things were clear: their smiles mirrored Alastor's perfectly, and their white clothes were stained with blood. Your stomach twisted in knots at the sight, a deep unease settling over you as they reached for you, hands covered in red like Alastor's. Panic overtook you then, your horrified screams overlapping their cheery giggles and his constant reading.

It was all too much, too vivid, and scarring.

You needed to wake up, or you'd surely lose your mind.

So, you screamed, shutting your eyes tight to block out the sight and shrinking away from it in hopes of escape.

"Y/n!?.. Sweetheart, wake up. Open your eyes, come on now," Alastor sat up in your shared bed, gently shaking your shoulders and carefully shifting to hover above you. He awoke to the sounds of your sharp, frantic breathing, recently accustomed to the sounds that stemmed from vivid night terrors. This was your third nightmare of the week, a bad one from what he could gather out of your strained expression and the stray tears staining your cheeks; how he hated to see his darling wife in peril, harboring a deep resentment to whatever troubled your lovely mind but unable to console you completely.

Alastor did not care about many things, and seeing you frantic amid sleep was one of them. As beautiful as you were laying beside him, round with his children and ever so content to bear them, he knew the least he could do was soothe your troubles, even if they were his fault, to begin with.

"Ma chere, wake up. I'm right here…" Alastor tried again to rouse you, and this time, your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. "A-alastor?…" you choked on a quiet sob, crying silently as his face came into focus, and though you wanted to feel comforted by his attentive nature, the only thing on your mind was the details of your nightmare coming to life.

Blood.

His, yours, a strangers?

It didn't matter where it came from, but the notion of how it stuck to your husband's skin and clothes that night he left your side as if he'd willingly bathed in it stuck with you far longer than anticipated.

Alastor studied your expressions carefully, not bothering to wear his glasses in the dead of night to see you when the pale moon gave enough light to do so, but oh, how it pained him to see you crying.

"My dear…shh, it's alright. You're safe and sound with me. No need to cry." He lay beside you again, sitting up just enough to caress your head into his chest. Though his words were sweet and loving, your tears only flowed faster hearing them.

It was as if you couldn't help yourself, wanting to feel secure in his arms but fearful of him simultaneously. Alastair had never treated you harshly, bad-mouthed you, or given any indication that he had anything negative to say about your character. So, why couldn't you let go of your anxiety around him, see him in your dreams as the lovely man you'd grown to love and marry, or scrub the image of that single night from your conscience?

He was hunting. He was hunting. He was hunting.

That's what you kept telling yourself, trying not to consider the other odd things that occurred that night, but it didn't prove easy. Night terrors became crying fits, and baseless doubts morphed into suspicions you weren't entirely ready to investigate.

You'd been with Alastor for too long and assumed you knew him like others since he was your husband and a soon-to-be father of your children. What kind of wife harbors unfounded fears toward their spouse? It broke your heart to consider such a fault in your character, adding to the ache in your chest as sobs dwindled into slowed buffs of breath, and after a moment of breathing steadily, you quieted down.

Alastor remained calm the whole time, humming a new tune he'd aired on his broadcast a few nights prior, but as your cries subsided, he resorted to muttering comforting words to you again.

"These nightmares won't last forever, darling." He kissed the top of your head, glancing down at your fully round stomach hidden under the covers. His shadows lurked closer as he stared at it, heightening his hearing range enough to act his habit of listening for any irregularities in the babies' or your heartbeat. Still, when he heard none, his focus returned to you entirely. "I know.." you mumble hoarsely, tired from crying and somewhat frustrated with your thoughts. The subtle flutters in your abdomen didn't help your predicament either, a prime signal that your restless dreaming had stirred a craving and, ultimately, another reason for you to be awake at an unusual hour.

So much for sleeping well while pregnant.

You thought bitterly, moving to sit up and gather your bearings before making any move to find a late-night snack in the kitchen. Alastor eyed you carefully, smiling softly at the sight of your small form emerging from the mass of covers, unable to stop admiring your delicate beauty that practically amplified itself as you got closer to giving birth. Your curves filled out the silk nightgown you wore nicely, your hair growing long enough to reach your back even while frazzled from sleep, and your skin seemed to always glow without blemishes.

What he favored admiring most was how you carried his children; small as you were, many thought twins would give you problems, but their assumptions couldn't be further from the truth. You, his darling wife, were more patient than most, and though you possessed a soft heart, your will was solid. That is why Alastor could not stand the thought of you being in turmoil. For eight months, he kept his regular life routine consistent, sparing any time he could to spend with you, but as of late, your terrors and mental state seemed unbalanced, which prompted the radio host to be home more often.

Alastor believed his constant presence was helping, comforting you in some way, but little did he know that your troubled behavior worsened because of it.

You finally sat up straight in bed with a bit of help from him, swiping away any tears left on your cheeks while catching your breath, but the latter task proved difficult as the movement in your belly doubled.

"Oh goodness…they never rest," you exhale sharply, trying to mask your annoyed tone with a flit of soft laughter, but Alastor picks up on your irritation immediately. It almost annoys you how fast he reads you, but you can't seem to tell he's the reason you've been acting off.

"Well, I'd be worried if they did, ma chere, but you seem rather fed up with it." he met your tired gaze, eyes alight with affectionate mischief, but you found nothing he said amusing at that moment.

Especially when the image of him covered in blood with the same look in his eyes crossed your mind.

"How could you say such a thing?!.." you snapped at Alastor, glaring his way before hurrying out of bed, snatching up your robe from the end of it as he tried to process your sudden outburst.

He'd never been one to be left dumbfounded, but you'd managed to leave him that way countless times in recent weeks. Unfortunately, it couldn't be prevented since the unruly nature of hormones made your gentle demeanor prickly.

He hated it, not knowing how to handle you and being very unsure of his ability to do so.

"A crude jokester you are, Al. I can not believe you!" you grumbled angrily, slipping on your robe and reaching for the door when it was secure around your body. He took a deep breath, standing out of bed, taking a moment to think. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand.

"My dear, wait-" Alastor called for you calmly, placing his glasses on with a heavy sigh, leaving his chest as you ignored him and left the room to trek downstairs.

Dramatic little thing, isn't she?

Hush up. It'll pass like all the other fits…

I wouldn't be so sure of that, my friend.

His shadows loomed in the darkest corners, embodying his hidden concerns but remaking still as he followed your path to the kitchen. He found you rummaging the cabinets, frustration peeking through your expression and flurry movements. You tried to keep from crying again as you searched for something to eat that would satisfy the lurking hunger pregnancy caused. Besides the medically recommended meals and traditional diets your doctor advised you to adhere to, you often opted for dishes Amgelique had told you to indulge in. Most included rarely done meats cooked by her, Alastor, or Rosie. She'd also given you specific fruits, herbs, and vegetables to ingest. All of which curves your appetite better than any doctor's diet.

Luckily, Rosie had stopped by earlier in the day with dishes shed prepared for you, and when the memory reoccurred, you rushed over to the fridge to find them.

There they sat, platters of food, some full of meat you couldn't quite figure out its origin, and others filled with various sweets and fruit. Alastor watched as a content smile adorned your face, returning your dark expression to its bright state. With a careful hand, you took a plate from the fridge, laying the other on your round belly while gently uncovering the platter. "One little bite, and it's back to bed," you whispered to no one in particular. Now, you were searching for a pan to reheat the food with, but your search halted, and you felt familiar hands rest on your hips.

You frowned, pouting stubbornly as his chest met your back.

Did he not understand you were angry with him at the moment?

"Al, please leave me be. Go back to bed and get some rest," you mumble dismissively, attempting to slip away from his embrace, but Alastor refuses to let you go. "No," he firmly states, peppering kisses along your shoulder and neck and stopping behind your ear, "I can't stand when you're upset with me, sweetheart. Let alone sleep when I know I've done or said something to offend you."

You try to hold a glare at the wall in front of you, swallowing an excited gasp as his lips find an overly sensitive spot on your neck, but it only takes a moment for you to cave. "Mmph..Al..," you whisper tentatively, relaxing into his taller frame as he passes a hand up and down your stomach. "Darling," he utters, voice smooth in your ear and breath cool against your neck. The endearing title makes your heart flutter, and your anger slowly dissipates hearing it. A light shiver racks your spine, bringing a coy smile to your face as you turn to face him head-on.

The dreamy look in his amber-brown eyes captivated you instantly, expressing the apology he was bound to give you -as ridiculous as the point of it was. Still, you accepted it, forgetting your hunger for a moment to hear what he had to say.

"It wasn't my intention to upset you, ma chere,"

You nodded, not avoiding the ginger kiss he placed on your forehead while running a hand through your hair.

"I shall be more careful with my words in the future. Will you forgive me this once?.." Alastor held your stare, letting the question linger before glancing at your swollen stomach. You followed his gaze, resolved to soften at the sight of his large hand lying atop yours, gently rising from the languid kicks produced by the children inside.

Your wedding rings glinted in the golden light of the kitchen chandelier, reminding you that Alastor was more than just a man who'd inadvertently hurt your feelings, but rather your husband who'd made an effort to apologize for his mistake.

Apologizing didn't come easy to him, nor did admitting his faults, so you forgave him despite feeling a twinge of unease about letting him off the hook.

"I forgive you, Al."

A tenderness enveloped your response, earning a soft smile that proceeded to a lingering kiss on your lips. Alastor leaned into your touch as your hands reached to cup his face; humming softly, you accepted his tongue into your warm mouth. You melted in his hold, trying to forget your nightmares, irrational anger, and suspicions as the kiss became intense.

His hands found your waist, keeping you close with cautious strength, trying his best to ignore the arousal he felt as your filled-out curves molded to his touch, but the sliver of restraint he had snapped when you moaned quietly into his mouth.

It was such a sweet sound, sending blood rushing to his cock faster than he cared to admit, and its effect didn't go unnoticed by you.

"I may have forgiven you, my love, but that doesn't mean you're completely out of the woods yet," you scold him playfully after pulling away from the kiss, giggling as he glares down at you, "And how, pray to tell, do I get 'completely out of the woods,' my dear?" You perk up, glancing at the plate on the counter, "Sharing a late-night dinner with me would be a good start."you suggest.

Alastor eyes the dish, immediately identifying the contents on it.

Rosie never failed to make the best meals for you, just like him and his mother, taking the time out to prepare prey he'd hunted down himself since he couldn't do it at home with you being there all the time, and trustworthy enough to not mention to you exactly what kind of meat you were being served.

After all, your children needed to be healthy, and Alastor was sure starting them off on a healthy diet similar to his would be beneficial in the long run.

He didn't mind a pair of miniature cannibals running around the house. If he played his cards right, you'd unknowingly continue to be one.

With all these factors in mind, your husband happily agreed to have a midnight meal with you,

"Well then, I have no choice but to join you, darling. I'll take care of the food, and you go lounge about in the parlor," he instructs, not leaving room for your assistance and being quick to get you comfortable until the meal is ready.

--------- ---------- ----------- -----------

The next day, Rosie stopped by with Mimzy, another good friend of Alastor's, but not a close one to you. After all, she had openly admitted to pining for your husband at your wedding reception. Although she was very drunk at the time, you couldn't bring yourself to get the whole ordeal. However, you were still cordial to each other most of the time, and it just so happened Rosie had run into her in town, which led to them deciding to visit.

"It's nice to see you again, Mimzy," you greet her with a tight smile, letting Rosie help you sit on the sofa next to her as the stout blonde sat on an adjacent armchair before curtly responding. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Y/n? It seems you and Al have been pretty busy," Mimzy eyes your stomach, a cheeky grin plastered on her face as she refers to your current state, but the smile drops when Rosie cuts into the exchange.

"Now, now, Mimzy, don't be bitter," she throws her a slightly playful glare, ignoring the eye roll Mimzy gives in return as she focuses on you. "How are you feeling, dear? You're only a few weeks away, right?! Oh, I can't wait to meet the little devils!" her excitement pours off in waves, and you contract it without much resistance. Smiling wide, you express your thoughts while picking up the bundle of yarn you were crocheting into a pair of matching white onesies right before their surprise arrival.

"Oh, I feel wonderful! It's hard to breathe sometimes, and they kick quite a lot, but I suppose that means they're healthy!… I'm two weeks from what the doctor told us, but Alastors mother thinks I'll have them much sooner." You laugh, nervous about the delivery process but more than ready to give birth. Rosie squealed happily, hands clasped before her chest as she gushed over the news. "That's just wonderful to hear, dear! However, I agree with Al's mother about the due date. You look as if you're going to pop any minute!" Mimzy followed her light-hearted comment with a stiff grunt, "How exciting. Don't tell me all you have for them is…that?." The blonde motions a hand at your crochet project, clearly judging your lack of baby items, but before you can give her a snarky response, Rosie perks up again.

"Oh, that reminds me! Come this weekend, I will be hosting your shower, dear. Al and I arranged it some time ago as a surprise since there's a good chance you'll have them in a week. I'm spoiling it." She clapped eagerly, giggling at your shocked reaction, "I… I don't know what to say, Rosie? Th-thank you so much!" you shifted to give her a tight hug; she accepted it but pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"Al doesn't want you worrying about a thing. This party was his suggestion. I'm merely fulfilling a favor to friends…" she paused, lightly caressing your stomach with one hand before finishing her explanation. "…and my soon-to-be god niece and nephew."

You nod in agreement but raise a brow as confusion floods your features.

"Neice and Nephew?" you ask Rosie, and she sits up straight with a knowing smile. "Well, that's just my guess, honey. We can't be certain until they're out in the world."

Something about her words sent a chill up your spine, a stray suspicion creeping back into you, and curiosity filling your head as you recounted Alasror and his mother making similar comments.

They were so sure of the twins' genders that they never explained how they knew, but they were adamant that their assumptions weren't wrong.

How strange…

You peered at the onesies in your hand, fiddling with needles wrapped in yarn, in deep thought as Rosie and Mimzy chatted about the shower. More so Roise since Minzy grumbled about the whole ordeal…

For a while, you tuned them out, murmuring a response whenever they sought your input but generally reserved as they continued. Your mind was elsewhere, considering the reality of being a mother relatively soon and contemplating if your waning sanity would rebuild itself.

It was expected that you would feel fed up with pregnancy at some point; the aches, pains, and anticipation of it all would come to an end. You were grateful for it, but some ailments wouldn't easily be shaken off, and each one stemmed from an uncertainty you felt towards Alastor.

The nightmares.

The suspicions.

The guilt of losing trust in him.

The grudges cultivated from being lied to shut out of your husband's truths and treated so fragile as if you aren't already sacrificing your strength to make him happy.

You'd do anything for him. You'd done everything for him, yet in nine months, the small voice of doubt you chose to ignore for so long was now blaring like a siren.

He's hiding something from me…and they all know it.

You eyed Rosie as the thought crossed your mind, careful not to show your anger as it swelled in your chest, nearly bubbling over as the memories of her and everyone else reasonably close to Alastor doting on you for the past several months. All those smiles, the tidbits of odd advice, the cover-ups for when he was out late at night, and the absurd amount of times they'd all so clearly lied to your face.

It infuriated you…

You weren't stupid, quick to trust, but hardly a brainless woman.

Being treated like a porcelain doll, emotionally and mentally, was something you learned to endure since childhood. Your father believed it was for your good, that he was doing you a favor by sheltering you from the world's cruelty, and you hated it with a passion. Alastor was one of the few who knew this, but he'd blatantly begun to treat you just the same.

You were his wife, his supposed 'darling doe', but weren't nearly cherished enough to be told the truth?

To be a aware of whatever secret he was keeping?

He could proclaim his devotion loud and clear but shut you out in the same breath…

It hurt.

Plain and simple.

But one way or another, you'd get him to understand, make him see you as a confidant rather than a show doll to be kept in a glass cabinet, and come what may, you'd made up your mind.

You weren't weak and certainly not fond of being lied to.

xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxx

Fun fact: I finished Chapter 8 of this fic, and it's officially reached Novel level. Like 40 000 words type shit. I am beyond surprised at myself but proud nonetheless. I hope you don't mind the heavy angst in the following few chapters (including this one), but I had a purpose for this plot -not just straight smut. That isn't to say part 8 won't have any ;)... Anyway, give me some feedback on this one. I want to know where you guys think this story is headed...

TAGS ❤️: @rapturenyx @michi-keinz @shealizxx @nissrinina @destinyisastar @bubblegumheartsy @sailorsmouth @aestheticgals-blog @rameisa @ellesette

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I'm never making it to heaven if I keep obsessing over this psychotic deer demon. Credits to creator ❤️

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delusionalwritingsofagay · 2 months ago

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I want to know if you can do a omegaverse fanfict of alpha Archie Andrews X Omega male reader where the reader is a single dad of twin boys from a previous Alpha that left him. Who after his sons were born him and his family moved to Riverdale to start a new start. Quickly he people in Riverdale begin to realize he is the father of his twin Sons who got mixed reactions but he doesn't really care because all he cares about are his own children their safety thinking that he doesn't need a another Alpha in his life until he come across Archie. Who Archie surprisingly falls in love with the Omega reader loving how he takes care of his sons always imagining him as his mate but never know how to ask him until one day the reader was stressed since he has no way to pick up his sons from daycare because of the bad weather that day and his parents are out doing business as Archie realized and decide to help him giving him a ride to the preschool and help him pick up his sons who after that day it become a daily thing where the two will pick up the reader's sons and do something fun together. After a couple of weeks Archie finally asked the reader out who the reader accepted knowing that his sons love Archie so the sign to give it a shot. After some months they become official as everything was going well until the alpha that fathers the reader's Sons finally showed up causing trouble who Archie stands up for the reader which caused a fight between the two Alphas which cause both of them to go into the hospital. As the reader apologized to Archie that he bring him into this mess who Archie Comforts him telling him that he doesn't care as long as him and his sons are safe and that he would do anything for them. ( sorry for the long request)

Fresh start

Pairing : Alpha Archie Andrews x Omega Male reader Tags : Omega verse, Past implied Mpreg, Single parent reader Word count :1086

Authors Note : So sorry for the late reply, i tried my best but i have really bad writer block when it came to this one, if you would like a part two which includes the rest of you request, just let me know and I'll try to do it.

Riverdale was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance for Y/N to leave behind the painful memories of the past. After his Alpha ex left him and their twin boys, he packed up their lives and moved to this small town, hoping to find peace and a semblance of normalcy. The twin boys, Jasper and Leo, were everything to him—two tiny bundles of joy with laughter that could light up even the darkest of days.

The first few weeks in Riverdale were a whirlwind of unpacking boxes and trying to establish a routine. Y/N threw himself into being the best father he could be. He enrolled the boys in day-care, joined the local parents’ group, and tried to get to know the other families. While many of the neighbours extended warm welcomes, it was a small town, and secrets had a funny way of spilling out.

Some residents recognized Y/N as the single dad of twins, and the messages came from all sides. Curiosity swirled through Riverdale like a constant breeze, accompanied by mixed reactions. While most were supportive, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the prying eyes of judgement. But in those moments of vulnerability, he held fast to what mattered most: Jasper and Leo.

Looking after the boys kept Y/N busy. But after a long day, the exhaustion often settled heavily in his bones. The thought of allowing another Alpha into their lives felt daunting. He had loved before—deeply and completely—but had been left alone to weather the storm of single parenthood. Now, he was determined to focus solely on his sons’ happiness and welfare.

Then came Archie Andrews.

With his charming smile and infectious enthusiasm, Archie quickly became a fixture in the lives of those in Riverdale. Y/N first noticed him during a community event—Archie was leading a music class for kids. Jasper and Leo's eyes sparkled with joy, captivated by the way Archie interacted with them and the other children. The warmth that radiated from Archie was palpable, and Y/N felt a flicker of admiration he hadn't anticipated.

As the weeks rolled on and the seasons began to shift toward colder weather, Y/N found himself drawing closer to Archie in unexpected ways. They had crossed paths at the day-care more often than not, and each time, Archie made an effort to engage with Y/N and the boys. It was innocent at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—yet it quickly blossomed into something more profound.

However, one fateful day figured to challenge Y/N’s outlook on life in Riverdale.

The weather turned unexpectedly nasty. Clouds rolled in, and soon rain pelted the streets like marbles dropped on concrete. Y/N found himself fretting about the condition of the roads. He had no car, and his parents were out of town for business. The thought of walking in this downpour to pick up Jasper and Leo from day-care felt impossibly daunting.

As he paced his apartment, a faint knock at the door interrupted his spiralling thoughts. When he opened it, the sight of Archie standing there, drenched from head to toe, sent confusion rushing through him.

“Y/N!” Archie exclaimed, shaking off the rain like a soggy puppy. “I saw the weather forecast and came to see if you needed help. I can drive you to pick up your boys!”

Y/N hesitated, torn between feeling grateful and the constant reminder of his reluctance to allow anyone into their lives. Did he really want to rely on someone else again? But as he saw the genuine concern in Archie’s eyes, he felt the weight of his pride battling the reality of the situation.

“Um, yeah… that would be great. Thank you,” Y/N replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

The car ride was both tense and comforting. Y/N’s heart raced despite the ease of the conversation. They chatted about Riverdale’s quirks and local hangouts, but Y/N found it hard to ignore the way Archie’s casual glances made his stomach flip. It felt strangely wonderful.

When they arrived at the day-care, the sight of Jasper and Leo running to greet him was worth the world. With Archie by his side, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of delight as the boys excitedly recognized their new friend.

After picking them up, a spontaneous idea struck Y/N. “Would you like to come back to our place for some snacks? I could really use the company—and I’m sure the boys won’t complain,” he suggested, half-embarrassed.

Archie’s grin widened, and how could Y/N have known a simple invitation could change everything?

As weeks turned into a routine, the boys grew to adore Archie, and Y/N found solace in their little family growing closer. Each day meant picking up the boys and spending quality time together, whether it was building fortresses made of blankets or biking down the nearby trails.

Yet beneath that camaraderie blossomed something stirring in Y/N’s heart. The more time he spent with Archie, the more he realized how he had begun to imagine a future where they could be more than just friends. He saw in Archie a gentleness and strength that beckoned to him, softening the barriers he had built over the years.

Finally, weeks turned into a couple of months, and one sunny afternoon while Jasper and Leo played in the backyard, Archie mustered the courage to approach Y/N. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he started, clearing his throat.

Y/N, cautious but curious, waited for the words that would surely change everything.

“Would you like to go out with me? Just us? A date?” he blurted out, a hint of apprehension ghosting over his expression.

Y/N’s heart thundered in his chest, and a smile spread across his face—a smile filled with warmth and hope. The boys were playing nearby, oblivious to the moment that was unfolding between their father and the Alpha who had quickly carved a place in their lives.

“Yes,” Y/N answered, his voice barely above a whisper tinged with disbelief. “I’d love that.”

Days turned to weeks, and soon they were officially together. It felt right, bringing the boys along for “family days” where laughter and joy filled their small home. The connection between them deepened, fortifying Y/N’s belief that perhaps he could trust again, and that maybe Riverdale was not just a place for new beginnings, but for new chances at love.

#x male reader #x male!reader #riverdale x male reader #riverdale x reader #archie comics #archie andrews #archie andrew x male reader #Archie Andrews x male reader #Mpreg #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #lgbtq

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imaginehappyhavoc · 2 months ago

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Heya! Could i ask for some headcanons of the thh boys with an ultimate crafter reader that likes making little trinkets for them? -🔥

A/N: Naww Crow!Reader!! (◠‿◠✿)

Pairing: thh boys x Reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: N/A

Makoto Naegi:

♡ Oh, this makes him SO HAPPY.

♡ He’s the type to love absolutely anything homemade. Art, cooking, you name it.

♡ It’s honestly comedic how fast his face lights up when you say “I made something for you.”

♡ Just immediately the brightest smile he can manage, and all but running to see what it is this time.

♡ Sometimes he’ll even make you things in return! Though, it normally doesn’t come out as good as he’d like. His damned luck cycle gets in the way.

♡ He keeps everything you make him, no matter how much space it takes up.

Byakuya Togami (platonic):

♡ No one’s… ever done that for him before.

♡ He was raised to recognize an item’s worth by its price tag. Mainly because no one in his life actually cared enough to take time out of their day and make something for him.

♡ He’s honestly flabbergasted every time you do this tbh.

♡ He’ll just hold whatever you made in his hands, staring at it for a just a bit too long. It’s the only time you’ll ever see him speechless.

♡ You tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to keep it. He says he won’t.

♡ He does.

Yasuhiro Hagakure:

♡ Did you mean: Ultimate Hype Man?

♡ He’ll get a gift from you and he’s bolting to the common room of the dorms to show it off to everyone.

♡ Always something along the lines of “look at what my SUPER amazing, SUPER talented partner MADE for me!”

♡ He loves anything you have to give him, obviously, but especially if he doesn’t know what the fuck it is.

♡ The things he treasures most in the world are useless lil trinkets that look funky and cool. So if you like metalworking, he might marry you on the spot.

Leon Kuwata:

♡ He loves it so much he loves you so much and no he is totally not about to cry shut up-

♡ Leon is an unexpectedly emotional guy. He reacts to everything, especially positive things, with so much enthusiasm.

♡ So when you come up to him and sheepishly give him a small trinket you made for him, his “cool guy” front just melts.

�� He’ll like. Hop. Just bounce in place like a really excited rabbit, because that’s basically what he is in this moment.

♡ He keeps it on him wherever he goes. Either he’ll fashion it into an add on for his chain necklace, or he’ll make use of one of his many pockets.

♡ Anytime someone asks about you, he’ll smile so wide and take it as an invitation to show them everything you’ve ever made for him.

Chihiro Fujisaki:

♡ Hugs. Just the tightest, most love-packed hugs you’ve ever experienced in your life.

♡ They try really hard not to cry, they really do, but they can’t help it. It just means so much to them that you would go out of your way to do that!

♡ They’ll ask you to teach them how to make stuff like what you make, so that they can return the favor.

♡ Whether you agree or not, Chihiro’s riding the high for the rest of the week.

♡ They go to class the next day and wait so impatiently for someone to ask about the new charm on their school bag so they have an excuse to ramble about you.

♡ Another person who will keep your trinkets with them all the time.

Mondo Owada:

♡ What a coincidence! He loves making things for you, too!

♡ Only difference is that, while you love to make small trinkets, Mondo likes to make larger, wooden trinkets.

♡ It’s a match made in heaven, honestly. Biweekly gift exchanges.

♡ When you give your gifts to him, it’s kinda like watching a big dog trying to play with a much smaller animal.

♡ He’s so excited, and he knows he has to be gentle, but it’s so hard for him to contain himself! He’ll hold it so gingerly so as not to break it, but every other part of his body’s wiggling because of how happy he is.

♡ He admires your craftsmanship so much, and he loves being able to see all your little design quirks in the things you make for him.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

♡ He will straight up cry, and he does not care how many people look at him weird because of it.

♡ It was rare that Taka received gifts at all, never mind gifts that were so personal!

♡ That was, until he met you.

♡ Any gift that you make for him by hand will be treasured so dearly, but especially things that are related to his interests.

♡ You once made him a keychain in the form of a teeny tiny Kendo sword. He kissed you for a solid ten minutes because he was so deeply moved by your affection for him.

♡ He insists on repaying you in some way for everything you make him, though he doesn’t quite know how.

♡ He settles on: anything you need, you get.

Hifumi Yamada (platonic):

♡ The crowd goes WILD.

♡ Of all people, Hifumi can appreciate handmade gifts. He’s given so many of them before, after all.

♡ He loves your trinkets so much that he actually— and stay with me here cause this is a doozy— takes down his figurines and puts your crafts up instead.

♡ Your classmates are convinced you just triggered The End Times because of that but whatever.

♡ He shows them off just as proudly, too.

♡ Like: “Hey, Yamada, what’s all that on your bookshelf?” “I’m SO glad you asked!” *pulls up a 300 page PowerPoint essay.

♡ In return, you get any art you want. Free of charge. You lucky dog.

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formulas-bitch · 7 months ago

Text

Come Back Home - Charles leclerc X leclercsibling/reader

4.9k words

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the concrete floor of the garage. It was always like this, Charles thought, when his older sister, Emily, returned home from her latest tour in the army. There was a certain air of anticipation, of excitement, that seemed to fill the room, as if the very walls themselves were vibrating with the energy of her presence. Even the old, rusty tools hanging on the walls appeared to glisten under her watchful gaze, as if they too were proud to be a part of her story.

Charles could feel his heart race with a mixture of nerves and joy as he watched Emily walk towards him. Her uniform was spotless, her posture straight and tall, her hair tied back in a tight bun that emphasized her sharp features. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue that he had inherited, sparkled with an unmistakable twinkle of pride. She held out her hand to him, and without a second thought, Charles took it, feeling the warmth and strength of her grip.

"You look great, Emily!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his grin. "I can't believe you're finally home!"

Emily smiled warmly at her little brother. "I missed you too, Charles. I've been thinking about that race of yours. You know, if you want, I could give you a few pointers. I mean, I might be a bit out of practice, but I've got some experience under my belt."

Charles' eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" he asked, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "That would be amazing! I've been practicing a lot, but it's always better when someone who's been there can help you."

Emily nodded, her expression softening. "Of course, little brother. I remember when you were just a kid, always tagging along with me to the track. I never imagined you'd grow up to be such a talented driver." She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We'll make a great team, you and me."

As they walked out of the garage and into the warm evening air, Emily glanced over at the dusty old trophy case by the side of the house. There, amidst the faded ribbons and tarnished medals, were a few shining reminders of her own racing days. She'd never won anything quite as impressive as the prize Charles was vying for, but she knew that didn't matter. Her pride in her little brother's accomplishments far outweighed any lingering feelings of envy or regret.

They made their way to the track, the familiar smell of hot rubber and burning fuel filling their noses. Emily's eyes scanned the course, analyzing the turns and the jumps, the potential hazards and the ideal lines. She'd spent so much time here, honing her skills, pushing herself to the limit. Now, standing here beside her brother, she realized that it had all been worth it.

"So," Emily said, as they walked along the fence, "tell me about your competition. Anyone I should keep an eye out for?"

Charles nodded, his expression a mix of determination and nerves. "Well, there's this one kid, Max, who's been winning everything lately. He's really good, but I think I can beat him. I've been practicing really hard, and I've got you to help me now." He glanced sideways at Emily, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.

Emily placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you, Charles," she said, her voice steady and calm. "I know you can do this. And even if you don't win, remember that it's about having fun and challenging yourself. That's what matters most." She gave him a wink, trying to ease some of the pressure he was feeling.

As they continued to walk along the fence, they came across a familiar-looking car, its paintjob faded and its tires worn thin. Emily recognized it immediately as Max's car, the one that had given her brother so much trouble during practice. "Hmm," she mused, "it looks like your competition could use a little help too. Maybe I could take a look at his car before the race and see if there's anything we can do to give you an edge."

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked, unable to hide his excitement. "That would be amazing! I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything…"

Emily smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Charles. It's not about taking advantage. We're here to help each other out, remember? Besides, if we can help Max improve his car, it'll only make the race that much more interesting." She glanced over at the car, her eyes assessing its condition. "Let's take a look at it, shall we?"

Together, they approached Max's car, and Emily began to inspect it carefully. She checked the tire pressure, the alignment, and even took a look under the hood. After a few minutes of examination, she pulled out a rag and began to wipe away some of the grime from the engine. "This car has a lot of potential," she said to Charles, "but it's not being used to its fullest. If I were you, I'd focus on these few areas." She pointed to a worn-out suspension and a faulty spark plug. "With some TLC and a few simple adjustments, this car could be unstoppable."

Charles nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "Thanks, Emily. You don't know what this means to me." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Listen, I've been thinking… I know you're my big sister and all, but what if we were to team up? I mean, not just for this race, but for future ones too? We could be unbeatable together."

Emily considered his words carefully. She had always been close to her little brother, but the idea of actually racing alongside him had never crossed her mind. It was an intriguing prospect, but she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. "It's a nice idea, Charles," she said finally, "but you need to remember that we're still competing against each other today. I can't help you win the race if it means losing it myself. and also i never know when i will be called back to base and go on tour again."

Charles nodded, understanding her dilemma. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "But maybe…maybe we could just see how today goes, and then talk about it afterwards? You know, if we both do well and have fun, who knows what could happen?" He flashed her a hopeful smile.

Emily smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Okay," she agreed, surprised by how much she wanted to make this work. "We'll see how it goes. And even if we don't end up teaming up, I promise I'll always be your biggest fan, no matter what."

As they continued to walk around the car, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with her brother. They had always been close, but this newfound understanding and trust was something special. She could tell that Charles felt the same way, his movements more confident and his posture more erect.

The race finally began, and both Emily and Charles took their places at the starting line. Their engines revved in unison, and the air was filled with the smell of burning rubber and hot metal. As the flag dropped, they roared forward, their tires squealing against the pavement.

Emily and Charles stayed close together, watching each other's every move. They weaved in and out of traffic, avoiding potholes and other obstacles with ease. They could feel the tension between them, a mixture of determination and sibling rivalry. But they also felt a newfound respect for each other, a mutual understanding that they were in this together.

As they raced past the halfway mark, Emily began to pull ahead slightly. She glanced back at Charles, hoping he was doing alright, but didn't want to lose focus on the track. Suddenly, she heard a loud pop from his engine, and saw him slowing down. "Charles!" she shouted over the radio. "What's wrong?"

Charles gritted his teeth as he fought to keep the car under control. "I think I blew a tire," he replied, his voice strained. "I'm going to pull over and see if I can fix it."

Emily felt a pang of guilt as she watched her brother struggle. She knew how much this race meant to him, and she didn't want to be the reason he lost. She considered stopping as well, but she didn't want to give up her lead. Instead, she radioed back, "Don't worry about it, Charles. Just focus on getting the car fixed. I'll keep an eye on things until you're back."

As she continued to race, Emily couldn't help but keep glancing back over her shoulder. Each time she looked, she could see Charles frantically working on his car, trying to get it back up and running. The delay gave her a slight lead, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. She had to keep pushing if she wanted to win this race.

The track twisted and turned, winding its way through the lush greenery of the countryside. Emily expertly navigated the turns, her tires squealing against the pavement as she forced them to break traction. She could feel the engine beneath her, purring contentedly despite the recent setback. She knew that if she could just make it to the finish line, she had a good chance of winning.

In the distance, she could see Charles' car slowly making its way back onto the track. His progress was steady, but it was clear that he was struggling to keep up with her pace. Still, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride watching him battle his way back into the race.

The finish line came into view, and Emily redoubled her efforts, pushing her car to its limits. She knew that she had to maintain her lead if she wanted to win. The stands were packed with spectators, their cheers echoing across the track as they urged her on. She could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her helmet, but she refused to let it distract her.

Behind her, Charles was gaining ground steadily, his car running more smoothly now that he had fixed the tire. The determination in his eyes was unmistakable as he closed in on her, inching closer with each passing second. Emily could feel her heart racing, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

As they neared the finish line, the cheers from the crowd grew louder, their voices a deafening roar that seemed to envelop the entire world. Emily glanced over at Charles, her heart in her throat as she wondered if she would manage to hold on. With a final burst of speed, she crossed the finish line, her tires squealing in protest as she slid sideways. She looked up to see Charles just inches behind her, his face contorted in a grimace of determination.

The race officials waved their checkered flags, signaling the end of the race. Emily slowly pulled her car to a stop, her heart still racing, her muscles aching from the effort. She climbed out of the car, her helmet in her hands, and took a deep breath. She glanced around, searching for her brother, and saw him emerge from his car a few feet away. His face was flushed with exertion and emotion, and there was a mixture of pride and disappointment in his eyes.

They met each other halfway, clasping hands in a gesture of camaraderie and understanding. "I'm sorry, Charles," Emily said, her voice hoarse from shouting over the engine. "I didn't mean to cause you to blow your tire."

Charles smiled, his expression softening. "It's alright, sis. You didn't do it on purpose. Besides, you helped me realize that I can still keep up with you." He glanced at the track, a distant look in his eyes. "I'm just sorry I couldn't pull ahead this time."

The two of them stood there for a moment, lost in their thoughts. The sound of the crowd slowly faded away, replaced by the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees and the occasional hushed voice. Emily reached up and adjusted her helmet, feeling the sweat beading on her forehead. She knew that despite their sibling rivalry, she and Charles were a team. They always had been. all of a sudden Emily hears her phone ringing and sees it is her captain from the army calling.

"Sorry about that, Charles. I'd better take this. It's probably about my orders or something." Emily says, already walking a few steps away from her brother. She answers the call, pressing the phone against her ear. "Hello, Captain. What's up?"

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line before the captain replies, his voice grave. "I'm afraid I have some news, Emily. Your unit has received orders for a deployment. You're to report to base immediately for processing." Emily feels a chill run down her spine. "But, I thought… I mean, I was supposed to be here for the rest of the season. What about my brother's race?"

The captain hesitates for a moment. "I'm sorry, Emily, but these orders are top priority. You need to put your training first. We'll work something out with your brother's race, but for now, you need to focus on getting to base." He gives her the details of where to go and when, and then hangs up the phone.

Emily feels a mixture of shock, fear, and guilt wash over her. She glances over at Charles, who is watching her with a concerned expression. "I've got to go, Charles," she says, her voice barely audible. "The army's sending me into deployment." She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her racing heart.

Charles's face falls, and he steps forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, Em. We'll get through this together. You're not going alone." He pauses, looking at her seriously. "I'll race for both of us now. I promise."

Emily looks up at him, tears welling in her eyes. She knows he's right; they've always been there for each other. "Thank you, Charles. I love you." She returns his hug, feeling the familiar weight of his arm across her shoulders.

Together, they walk back to their pit area, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty space. Emily can't help but feel a sense of loss, not just for herself, but for Charles as well. She knows that this will change everything for them.

As they approach their cars, they see their mom and siblings waiting for them, concern etched on their faces. Emily's older brother puts his arm around their mother's shoulders, offering what little comfort he can. Charles's mother reaches out to him, her hand trembling as she wipes away a tear.

The two of them get into their cars, Charles taking the lead as they pull out of the parking lot. Emily looks over at him, noticing the determination in his eyes as he focuses on the road ahead. She can tell that he's not just racing for himself anymore; he's racing for her too.

Their mother and siblings follow close behind, their mother's tears silent but steady as she watches her two children drive away. Emily's brother drives a bit more slowly, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror to check on his sister.

The race track stretches out before them, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the track. Charles takes a deep breath and focuses on the task at hand. He shifts gears, pressing his foot harder against the accelerator as he speeds up, his car whipping around the turns with precision. Emily watches him from the passenger seat, a mixture of awe and pride filling her heart.

In the car behind them, their siblings talk quietly among themselves, trying to distract their mother from the tension of the moment. They know that this race is more than just a race for Charles; it's a way for him to honor his sister's sacrifice and to show the world what they can achieve together.

Their mother, though quiet, is fiercely proud of both of her children. She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. She remembers the day Emily left for basic training, how proud she was to see her daughter stand tall and strong. And now, she watches Charles race with the same mix of awe and pride.

and now she has to watch her only daughter be shipped out again and prays she make to back home safe.

Emily leans forward in her seat, her knuckles white as she grips the dashboard. She can feel the tension in her body, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She's not the one driving, but she feels like she is. Every move Charles makes, every decision he makes behind the wheel, feels personal to her. She can't help but wonder if this is how he feels when he's on the track with her.

Their mother glances up at the sky, watching the shadows grow longer. She wonders if Emily is thinking of her at this moment, if she can see the sky the same way. Perhaps they're both looking up at the same stars, hoping that one day they'll be able to watch Charles race together again.

Charles speeds past the finish line, his car screeching to a halt as he crosses it. He jumps out of the car, his heart racing and his lungs burning. His eyes dart around, searching for his family in the stands. their brothers are already there, clapping and cheering, their mother close behind. They spot Charles and their faces light up, relief and pride washing over them.

Emily watches from the pit area, her heart in her throat. She knows Charles did his best, and that's all she could have ever asked for. As he waves to them, she waves back, feeling a sense of accomplishment and love wash over her. Their mother stands up, wiping away a tear, and gestures for them to join her. They hurry over, their siblings forming a protective circle around them.

Their mother takes Emily's hand in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "I'm so proud of both of you," she says, her voice cracking. "You did her proud, Charles. And you, Emily, you've been his strength when he needed it most. You've both shown such courage and resilience."

Charles squeezes his sister's shoulder, feeling the weight of their mother's words. "Thanks, Mom. And Em, you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you've done. You've been my rock, my inspiration. I couldn't have done it without you."

emily wipes her eyes as she pulls her mother and brothers in a hug.

" now lets get out of here and grab some dinner before i have to report back to base"

Their mother smiles through her tears, nodding in agreement. "Of course. We'll celebrate tonight, just like you wanted." She turns to her oldest son. "Arthur , why don't you and Emily go with Charles to pick up some food? We'll head straight home and get everything ready?."

Arthur nods, stepping forward. "Sounds good, Mom. We'll be back in a jiffy." He turns to Emily, offering her his arm. "Shall we?" They begin to walk towards Charles' car, a light breeze rustling through the trees behind them.

Charles pulls up to a local food truck park, parking his car between two brightly colored vehicles. The aroma of various cuisines fills the air, making their stomachs rumble in anticipation. "So, Em, what do you feel like getting?" he asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Emily shrugs, her mind already wandering to the dinner table at home with their family. "I'm not really sure. Whatever sounds good to you, I guess."

Charles nods, glancing at the menu board above the truck. "Hmm, I'm in the mood for some Mexican tonight. How does that sound? Chicken tacos, maybe some quesadillas?"

Emily smiles, feeling her stomach growl in agreement. "That sounds delicious. I'm sure Mom would love some help with the dinner too."

They step up to the window, watching as the friendly food truck owner takes their order. As they wait for the food, they lean against the car, enjoying the warm evening air. "Hey, Charles, I wanted to thank you again for letting me come with you today. I know it's not easy for you, being away from everything and everyone back home."

Charles shrugs, trying to downplay his emotions. "Hey, it's fine. I'm glad you're here. I'd rather have you by my side than anyone else. Besides, it helps me remember what I'm fighting for." He pauses, looking at Emily seriously.

Their food arrives, they grab it and start driving home.

"I'm sure you'll make a great soldier when you're back in the field," Enzo says, taking a bite of his quesadilla. "I mean, you're already so strong and brave. And I know Dad is so proud of you and remember he is always watching you em"

Emily feels a lump in her throat as she listens to Enzo. She knows he's right; their father is always watching over them, and she wants to make him proud. She takes a bite of her taco, savoring the flavors and the warmth it brings to her insides. As they continue to eat, she can't help but feel a sense of pride and love for her family. They've been through so much together, and she knows they'll always be there for each other.

as soon as they finish their dinner Emily stands up from the table

and hugs her mother and brothers tightly before leaving to go back to base. she kisses her mother on the cheek and tells her that she loves her. she walks with Charles to his car and they drive off in silence. as they pull up to the gate, Charles turns to Emily and says, "you know, em, you're not just my sister. you're my best friend. and i want you to know that I'm always here for you, no matter what. if you ever need someone to talk to, or just want to hang out, you know where to find me." Emily smiles at him through her tears and says, "thank you, Charles. i feel the same way about you. and I'm always here for you, too. little brother. take care of everyone for me ok, and make sure to take care of your self too alright?"

He nods, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. They get out of the car and hug tightly once more before Charles heads back to his car. Emily watches him go, wiping away the tears that fall silently down her cheeks. Even though they're apart now, she knows that they'll always be connected.

As she walks towards the base, she can't help but feel a sense of determination growing inside her. She's going to make it through this, for her family, for Charles, and for their father who is always watching over them. She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and marches forward with renewed purpose.

Emily arrives at her barracks, dropping her duffel bag onto her bunk with a sigh. The familiar sounds of soldiers going about their duties fill the air, but she hardly notices them as she lies down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. .

The days blur together in a haze of training exercises and long nights. Emily throws herself into her work, determined to prove herself as a soldier and make her father proud. But even as she pushes herself to the limit, she can't shake the feeling that she's missing something important. Something that was once a constant presence in her life.

She tries to stay in touch with Charles as much as possible, sending him letters and care packages whenever she can. In return, he sends her stories about their mother and brothers back home, about their father's garden and the new puppy they've adopted. Their conversations are brief but filled with love and support.

soon Emily is off to Iraq to start her tour.

The days in Iraq are long and brutal. The heat is relentless, and the dust seems to get into everything. Emily spends most of her time patrolling the streets, keeping an eye out for danger. At night, she huddles in her tent, trying to sleep amidst the constant hum of generators and the occasional gunfire.

She finds solace in the letters from Charles and her family back home. Their words are a lifeline, reminding her of the love and support that she has waiting for her when this is all over. In one particularly heartfelt letter, Charles tells her about a time when they were kids and they would go fishing with their father. They would spend hours by the riverbank, laughing and telling stories, and their father would always cook up their catch for dinner. Reading this, Emily feels a pang of longing for those simpler times.

As the weeks turn into months, Emily begins to see the impact of her service on those around her. She meets soldiers who have been through multiple tours, their eyes haunted by the memories of what they've seen and done. She tries to be strong for them, to be the steady presence that they can rely on, but sometimes she feels so young and inexperienced. She wishes she could talk to her father about it, but she knows he's not here anymore.

One day, as she's sitting in the makeshift chapel, writing a letter to Charles, she notices a familiar face in the corner. It's Sergeant Johnson, the veteran who has been giving her extra training. Something in his eyes tells her that he understands what she's going through, and without a word, he comes over and sits beside her. They sit in silence for a while, listening to the chaplain's voice as he reads from a worn book. Finally, Emily musters the courage to speak.

"Sergeant Johnson," she begins, "I don't know why you're even talking to me. I'm just a rookie, and I don't know half of what you've been through." He looks at her kindly, his eyes creased at the corners from a lifetime of smiling and frowning.

"Ah, Emily, you're not a rookie. You've been here, through this, just as much as anyone else. You're just new to it. And that's the important thing. You're here now, you're doing your job, and you're making a difference. You don't need to have been through ten tours to know that." He pauses, looking out the window at the dusty, barren landscape beyond. "Look, Emily, I've seen a lot of people come and go through here. Some of them…they just couldn't handle it. They couldn't find their footing. But you're different. You're strong. You've got a good head on your shoulders. and you have lead many tour to successes "

" So and with that me and the board have seen all the hard work and dedication you have put after each and every tour that we have decided to announce you as first lieutenant"

"Wait, what?!" Emily exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise. "But I'm not even halfway through my tour!"

Sergeant Johnson chuckles. "Ah, you're a quick learner, that's for sure. But you've earned it, Emily. You've earned it ten times over. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side as my second-in-command." He puts a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's go tell the others. They're going to be just as pleased as I am."

As they walk back to their base, Emily feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her. Excitement, of course, but also a deep sense of responsibility. She knows that she still has a long way to go, and that there are countless challenges yet to face. But with Sergeant Johnson's guidance and the support of her new family here in the army, she knows that she can make it through.

The news of her promotion spreads like wildfire through the base, and the looks of surprise and admiration on her fellow soldiers' faces are enough to make her heart swell with pride. She spends the rest of the day sharing stories and laughter with them, feeling more a part of this unit than she ever thought possible.

Emily is quick to write a letter to her family telling them of her promotion and how she is doing.

As the days turn into weeks, Emily finds herself growing more comfortable in her new role as first lieutenant. She spends countless hours planning missions and training exercises, pouring her heart and soul into making sure that her soldiers are prepared for anything they might face. Her father's words echo in her mind: "A good leader isn't born, Emily. They're made." And so, she strives to be the best leader she can be, learning from her mistakes and always seeking the counsel of Sergeant Johnson when she needs it.

The landscape around them slowly begins to change as the seasons pass. The once barren earth turns green with life, and the skies grow heavy with the promise of rain. Even in the midst of war, there is beauty to be found, and Emily takes solace in the small moments of peace that these changes bring. She finds herself thinking more and more about her family back home, and the day when she'll finally be able to return to them.

anyone a part two maybe????

#charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #leclerc siblings #army #family leclerc

140 notes · View notes

keirawantstocry · 8 months ago

Note

that one time tubbo called pac a dilf 😵‍💫

okay wait…

young teacher tubbo and dilf pac comes to collect his son from class…..tubbos got such a crush on him and maybe he asks pac to stay back to talk about richas’s behaviour but it turns into something else….

you've come to the right person (guy who is obsessed with pacbo)

Tubbo wasn't quite sure how he ended up with this job. He had never in any of his years considered being a teacher of any sort. But after he adopted his daughter, he needed a second job. Mechanics weren't paying him enough. Luckily there was a daycare nearby that was hiring. It was a more difficult process than he had expected, much like the adoption. But he got it.

His daughter stayed with her “other father”. Tom's name was always said in a sigh like that. They were young and stupid and drunk and Tubbo didn't know what he was doing when he signed the stupid paper that Tommy had slid him across the dirty bar table.

Tommy, and unfortunately Molly, found it hilarious. They both insisted on watching Sunny while he was at work. Thankfully Sunny loved them. Tommy would do her hair in braids. It was something they did when they were younger. Tubbo remembered sitting in fields with Tommy's older cousin braiding his long hair.

As soon as Tommy saw Sunny's thick 3C curls, he stayed up two nights in a row researching and watching video after video of how to do cornrows and other braids in her hair.

Molly often sent him videos while he was at work on Sunny prattling on while Tommy listened intently, braiding her hair as best he could. As much as Tubbo joked about divorce and threatened, he was glad to have two people he loved watching his child and caring for them so well.

He closed his laptop with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. He was the last one there, his co worker had to leave because she had to pick up her own child but they needed someone to watch the singular child whose parents were incredibly late.

Opening his eyes, Tubbo stared down the young boy in front of him.

He was a Latino boy, probably around 7 or 8 with an oversized yellow jersey that he wore every single day. He was staring at Tubbo with large brown eyes. It was almost unnerving but he was a cute, decently well mannered child.

Tubbo remembered the day he joined the daycare. A man with shoulder length brown hair and a singular white streak through it brought him in and explained how the boy had been born without part of his leg but was still very capable of movement with the prosthetic his Pai had made him.

The owner of the daycare had nodded, assuring the man over and over that his child would be well cared for and that they would make sure the other children didn't say anything nasty as children tended to do.

Richas, Tubbo remembered, as he continued to stare down the boy. His name was Richas.

“Hello,” he said.

The boy grinned. “Ola!”

Tubbo laughed at his enthusiasm before picking up his phone to attempt to call the boy's parents once again. It rang and rang, like it had three times before click.

“Holy shit, we are so sorry. Our schedule got all mixed up and we didn't know who was supposed to pick him up today. Fuck!”

“Hey, hey,” Tubbo said calmly. “It's okay. I'm here with him. Get here whenever you can.”

The voice on the phone that Tubbo didn't recognize took a few deep breaths. “Sim, sim, of course. Peqi is on his way already. He should be there any minute.”

Tubbo smiled at Richas who bounced up and down excitedly, trying to climb up the front of the desk to reach the phone. “Sounds good, Mr…?”

The voice laughed. “Just call me Mike yeah?”

Richas made the saddest noise possible and Tubbo's heart melted. “Wait, before you go, I think he wants to talk to you.”

He removed the phone from the side of his ear and carefully handed it to the boy who cradled it with both hands and held it up to his mouth. “OI, PAI.”

Mike's voice came through quietly. “Oi, Richas. Você está sendo bom?”

“Sim, sim,” the boy sang happily. “Eu sou bom.”

“Bom menino. Pai Pac will be there soon okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

“Eu te amo.”

“Eu também te amo.”

The phone clicked, ending the call and Richas handed it back to Tubbo with a smile. Not even five seconds after the phone was back in his hand, the door slammed open. Standing in the now open doorway was a frazzled and incredibly attractive man.

Richas ran over, bounding easily into his arms.

“Richarlyson!” the man cooed, swinging him back and forth in his arms. He met Tubbo's eyes over his son's head. ‘Thank you’ he mouthed.

Tubbo was almost too stunned to nod but he managed to as Richas's father slowly lowered him to the ground to step over to Tubbo.

“I have to sign him out, yes?”

Tubbo nodded, still speechless. He cleared his throat and slid the sign-out sheet across the desk. “Yeah, uh, yeah.”

The man, Pac, from the signs of his scribbled signature, smiled blindingly at him, his son clinging to his leg.

Tubbo noticed at that moment that Pac had a near identical prosthetic to his son. “You match,” he said before mentally slapping himself. You don't just fucking point out a man's prosthetic, no fucking wonder you're still married to Tommy.

But Pac just laughed softly. “We do,” he said softly, rubbing the top of Richas's head. “He is very clearly my son.”

“Are you his biological father?” Tubbo asked. Holy fucking shit, shut up you fucking idiot. He is so tired of you already, why are you asking so many questions?

Pac just laughed softly again and the twist in Tubbo's chest felt like falling off a cliff. “Sim, yes, I am. I was the one who gave birth to him.”

Tubbo stopped himself from asking any questions about that. He knew better than that at least. “That's really cool.” He tried a smile and felt so awkward.

“Thank you,” Pac said. “And thank you for watching him past time. I know you probably have places to be.”

Tubbo brushed him off with a wave of his hand. “Oh don't worry about it. My daughter is more than happy to spend more of their time with her ‘other father’.” Out of instinct, he raised his hands and made quotation marks with his hands.

Pac raised an eyebrow curiously.

Tubbo flushed. “A, uh, friend of mine. We got drunk married and now my daughter considers him her other father.”

Pac laughed. “No spouse of your own then? One that you're in love with anyway?”

Tubbo flushed darker. “Ah, no. Just my husband and his girlfriend.”

“Mmm,” Pac said, leaning over on the desk. “Good to know.”

Tubbo froze in his spot as Pac's eyes, big and brown just like his son's, stared into his soul. He gulped before clearing his throat. “Yeah, uhmm, yeah.” The heat of his face was nearly unbearable.

Richas gently smacked his dad on the leg. “Oi, stop that.”

Pac leaned back, holding his hands up with an innocent expression. “What?? What?”

The little boy glared at him with no heat. “Pai Mike told you to stop that.”

“Well, Mikey isn't here right now is he? And he also has no control over my life.” Pac turned back to Tubbo and grabbed the pen again. He motioned towards Tubbo's arm which he held out willingly.

Quickly the man scribbled a number onto his arm, his grip strong and warm. Tubbo felt dizzy.

Pac dropped the pen with a smile and a wink before grabbing his son's hand. “Call me yeah?”

Tubbo stared in disbelief, red as a beet. “...yeah,” he said softly as Pav happily bounded out the door, his son berating him in Portuguese.

“Tommy,” he said softly when he got home, holding up his arm. “I think I got hit on.”

#pacbo #qsmp shipping #my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #q!pac #q!sunnysideup #q!tommy #molly is also there #q!mike #and also cellbit is mentioned but not by name #i started writing and then i couldn't stop so here's this LMAO #dilf!pac au

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buddiebeginz · 6 months ago

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If they are keeping Lou around for any part of season 8 the show has to put an end to the cameo nonsense. Some of the Buck/Oliver takes that are starting to make the rounds are next level insane. I saw one scolding Oliver for making Lou do all the promoting of the ship. Another post said the writers needed to up Buck's game because he's not at the level of commitment yet that Tommy is being written (wtf when were these episodes). And yet another post scolding Oliver for promoting Buddie and Buck for continuing to spend time with Eddie.

They are taking these PAID (you paid him to say this shit) videos and making them canon. No part of anything he's saying is canon. Firstly, he wouldn't be allowed to tell them any actual canon facts and secondly Oliver/Buck is the character/actor the show gives a shit about. He's encouraging this nonsense and it's gross. Him promoting himself is fine, it's low-key cringe given the fact the other half of the ship is silent but you do you, babe. Oliver's silence is what's pissing his fans off. Seriously tell me you're new to Captain Starks ways without telling me you're new. He promotes no ship but the Buddie ship, canon or not. These people are here for Lou. When he goes, happy for him to take them with him.

I'm not sure why they keep letting him do those cameos especially after he pissed people off when he said T*mmy being homophobic and racist to Hen and Chim was just teasing. He also talked about people recognizing him in Thailand in the AH interview and did this fake stereotypical asian accent. 🤦‍♀️He really needs a better agent and some media training because they'd for sure tell him to knock that shit off.

I could see the cameos being fun to do a few times when he first came back to the show even to garner excitement about B/T and T*mmy but the fact that he's done so many now and has even raised the price just makes him look desperate for attention. And like you said he gives all these headcanons about T*mmy in his videos that his obsessive fans have taken for absolute fact. We would never hear the end of it if Buddie fandom was paying Ryan for videos like that.

I agree with you that a majority of B/T stans are here first and foremost for T*mmy and Lou not Buck and Oliver. I still can't believe that a lot of them used to be Buddie shippers. I think everyone should be able to ship what they want including multishipping but I don't get how some of them dropped a ship they were seemingly invested in for years for the nothing that is B/T.

That part of fandom also loves to call us delusional and say we're seeing only what we want to see but a lot of times we're just pointing out what's actually happening. Like in the recent episode T*mmy was being a downer to Buck's enthusiasm (which has basically become the norm for them). The camera also paned to Eddie after Buck got his award not T*mmy. Buck chose to run off to Eddie's after work not to T*mmy's. These are things the show is literally showing us not just stuff we're imagining.

It's similar with Oliver. They can come up with all the reasons in the world why he's never promoted B/T through this entire season but it doesn't matter because he still hasn't and likely won't. I've seen them say Oliver doesn't post anything about B/T or Lou to avoid dealing with the hate or to not upset Buddie fans or to protect Lou. The thing is though Oliver has left social media before when he's had issues and could again if he wanted to. He's also been dealing with homophobic comments since Buck came out but he's never shied away from talking about Buck coming out and has even addressed the hate on his insta.

Oliver liked a couple of B/T pieces of art when the story first happened but I think that was more to support the bi Buck storyline and the artists than anything else. Multiple times during this season he's liked Buddie art (including a tattoo which he commented on three times) he's also posted Buddie related and Ryan stuff on his stories. If he wanted to show support to Lou or B/T he could easily post on his stories where people can't comment. B/T stans can think what they want but it's clear Oliver doesn't promote any of that because he's rooting for Buddie harder than anyone. I think he knows B/T isn't going to be around forever and he's trying not to lead people on about it as he's said in the past he hates to do that.

I really hope we can get rid of T*mmy at the end of s7 although knowing Tim he'll probably keep him for added drama until s8. Unfortunately even when B/T ends I expect those fans to do a lot of complaining because they've concocted this whole idea in their head that T*mmy is Buck's endgame soulmate. They even want T*mmy to be added on as main character and get a begins episode. So I fully expect some of them to riot when he inevitably gets the ax. The rest will probably run back to Buddie the minute it becomes canon and try to pretend they never left. Jokes on them though because a lot of Buddie shippers have blocked them for how awful they've been this season especially towards Eddie.

#ask #anon #911!

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet arrangement | Part 1

PAIRING | Andy Barber x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.7K

SUMMARY | You've been stuck in your little town for years and desperately want to get out of there and start a new life. When a lawyer named Andy Barber sets foot into your diner, he makes you an offer you're not sure you can refuse.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light angst, swearing, and discussion of a sugar daddy/-baby relationship.

A/N | I am considering turning this into a small series (3-5 parts at most), but I would like to know if all of you would like to read that. Please let me know what you think; otherwise, this will just be a single one shot 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | Header & 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Andy Barber Masterlist | Series Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

''I wish I could just get out of this fucking hellhole of a town already,'' you sigh as you lean against the wall outside the diner you're working at.

''Why don't you go already?'' your colleague Ava says as she lights her cigarette. Luckily, you're standing on the correct side and not bothered by her smoke.

''You know why? Because I don't have the money to get out of here, and even if I did, how the fuck would I know where to go?! I've never been anywhere other than here,'' you say as you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing your temples to try and ease the impending headache.

''Sometimes I wish someone would just scoop me up and carry me out of here so I would never have to look back,'' you say to Ava before walking back into the diner since your break is over.

You walk back in and go to see your new customers sitting in your section, so you walk over to them.

''Good afternoon, my name is Y/N, and I'll be your server today. Can I get the two of you started with something to drink?'' you say, and suddenly you recognize the man sitting there as Andy Barber. This most handsome lawyer occasionally comes by when he's working at the courthouse in your small town.

You never understood why a courthouse would be in a small town like yours, but you are okay with it, especially not since Andy returned to visit.

''Just 2 coffees, please, and could we also get a menu?'' the woman across from him says, and you nod.

''Of course, 2 coffees and 2 menus coming right up,'' you say as you turn around, not noticing the pair of eyes burning a hole in the back of your head.

''Andy, why don't you just ask her out already? I've seen how you look at her more than once, and you deserve someone to care for in the way you want,'' the woman says.

He sighs and shakes his head slightly. ''I'm not sure it's a good idea. She's nice, but I don't want her to think I'm a creep or anything''.

He doesn't say anything when you arrive back at the table, giving Andy a big smile as you put down his coffee, and you smile at the woman as well, though not as big.

''If you have decided on your order, please let me know, and I'll be right with you,'' you say as you continue to work on the rest of the customers in your section.

However, you can't help but glance over at Andy occasionally, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you turn your gaze away, and your cheeks feel like they're on fire.

The next few days were spent working at the diner, and every time Andy came by, he requested to sit specifically in your section.

Today, however is your day off, so when he requests your section again and hears you're not there, he asks when you will be back.

''She's here again tomorrow,'' Ava said with a smile and immediately she came up with a plan.

When the next day arrives and you set foot in the diner Ava pulls you to the side when you walk into the locker room for you and your colleagues.

''Guess who asked for you yesterday?!'' she said with a tad bit too much enthusiasm for your liking.

''I don't know, the president?!'' you said with a mocking tone but Ava let it slide this time.

''That lawyer that's been sitting in your section the last few days, but when I said you weren't here he excused himself and was gone,'' she tells you and your cheeks light up slightly.

''A-Are you sure?'' you ask her.

''Of fucking course I'm sure, dumbass! He's here to see you! You should totally ask him out!'' she says with a mischievous grin on her face.

''Girl, he's like twice my age, I'm not gonna ask him out!'' you say, but you would be lying if you didn't think about being with him. In every single way.

''So? Just give it a chance,'' Ava tells you and you roll your eyes before turning to your locker, getting ready for your workday.

Now that you know Andy will be visiting again, you decide to wear lipstick matching your red uniform; your eye makeup is a little dark to finish.

Andy is already seated in your section and alone this time. When he sees you, he softly gasps at how you look because you have never looked more beautiful than you do right now.

''Good afternoon, Mr. Barber, what can I get started for you today?'' you say as you stand next to the table, but he can't bring the words out of his mouth.

''Mr. Barber? Are you okay?'' you say and he suddenly snaps out of his trance when you place a hand on his shoulder.

''Sorry, it's just- You look so different and it suits you well,'' he says with a reassuring smile.

''Thank you, I thought I'd try this out for a change,'' you say as you lie through your teeth, you did this just for him and no one else.

He orders his usual lunch and when he's done he hands you a very generous tip along with his business card. You flip it over to see the words ''Call me'' written on it, that's all it says.

Sudden butterflies erupt in your stomach as you read those words, your cheeks turning a deep red shade as you watch him walk out of the door.

Andy's business card is still on your nightstand a few days later; he has yet to return since he handed it to you. The case he was working on must've been over, so he gave you the card.

You decide to take a leap of faith and grab your old cell phone from your nightstand, the screen is broken beyond repair and it definitely needs a replacement but you can't afford it, so you make do with what you have.

Dialing Andy's number and putting the phone against your ear has your heart go crazy in your chest, and after four rings he picks up.

''Andy Barber,'' he says with a deep voice, and your heart skipped a beat.

''Uh, hi, Mr. Barber. This is Y/N Y/L/N from the diner. I found your business card and decided to take you up on your offer to call you,'' you say nervously.

''I'm glad you did because I hoped to discuss something with you over dinner. Are you free this weekend?'' he asks and you shut your eyes while biting your lip in disbelief. This can't really be happening.

''I am free on Sunday,'' you tell him.

''Okay, can I pick you up at your house at 7 p.m.? I want to take you out to dinner like I said earlier if that's okay with you,'' he offers, and you agree, giving him your address.

''Okay, see you on Sunday, Sugar,'' he says, and you gasp softly at the nickname he just gave you, which definitely didn't go unnoticed by you.

Since you didn't know what kind of restaurant Andy was taking you to, you opted for a business casual outfit, hoping it would be good enough for your destination.

When Andy arrives, he texts you that he's here, and you walk out the door, locking the door behind you as you see Andy leaning against his car.

''Hi, Mr. Barber,'' you say as you approach him.

''Please, you can call me Andy,'' he says, just like many times before, though now is the first time you're taking him up on the offer.

''I'm sorry, Andy, it's just a little weird to call you by your first name since I've only seen you in the diner until now,'' you say, and he nods.

''It's okay, Sugar, don't worry about it,'' he says as he opens the passenger side door for you, and you slide into the comfortable seat.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with small talk, and you notice that you feel comfortable around him, so you easily reciprocate in the topics he's bringing up.

Once you arrive at the restaurant, Andy guides you in, and the two of you are led to a private area so Andy can discuss his offer with you.

''First, I want to let you know that you can always say no to my offer if you're uncomfortable with it. I don't want to pressure you with this offer, and if you happen to agree but at any point want out of it, that's okay too,'' he starts off as he holds your hand.

''O-Okay,'' you say, nervous about what's coming.

''I'm just going to outright say it: I want to offer you a sugar daddy/-baby relationship. I would love to take care of you however you want or need, but it would first and foremost be financial. It can be of a sexual nature, too, but it doesn't have to be if that's not okay. You will basically get money from me each month to do with whatever you want, and if you ever want anything else, you can ask me, and I'd be more than happy to provide,'' he says.

''What? I-I'm not sure,'' you say as you let the offer sink in.

''Would I have to live with you?'' is your first question.

''We can negotiate the terms you are uncomfortable with, Sugar. Like I said, I don't want to make you do anything you're not okay with, so whatever you decide is okay with me,'' he says, secretly wishing you would say yes to his offer.

''Is it okay if I think about it for a few days? It's a lot to take in,'' you say, and he nods.

''Of course,'' he says, and the rest of the night is spent with more light conversation, and you're starting to be more and more comfortable being around him.

When he drops you off at home, he walks you to your door, and you kiss him softly on his bearded cheek.

''I'll let you know what I decide in a few days. Thank you for the great dinner, though, and I hope to see you soon,'' you say before walking into your house.

You lean against the door after closing with a huge smile. This might exactly be the chance you need to get out of this fucking hellhole of a town already.

#andy barber #andy barber one shot #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber imagine #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber angst #andy barber fluff

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 10 months ago

Note

Ethan Landry x Reader childhood bestfriends to lovers?

Hiiii, I didn't know if you wanted smut(I'm so sorry if you did), so I didn't include it, but I have ideas if you want a part 2:)

A Daydream Away - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend expresses his feelings in a cute way.

A/N: This one's fluffy:)

As soon as you and Ethan graduated high school, you felt like time was slipping through your fingers. You’ve been friends since you were kids, and it’s going to be so weird when you both go to different universities in two days. Ethan wanted to spend every single second of free time he had with you, so he made a list. Every day, new things were crossed off. The list was down to almost nothing, which made you a little sad.

“Going to the park and feeding the ducks is the last thing?” you asked, feeling like it was nothing compared to bowling or riding roller coasters, which are things that you’d already done.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” he said. You laughed at his enthusiasm.

“Whatever you say,” you said, as you both walked out the front door and walked to his car.

When you made it to the park, you walked over to the little duck pond area. You squealed when you saw the baby ducks trying to keep up with their mom as they swam.

“You think that goose over there is staring me down?” Ethan asked. You looked over to the bird in question and laughed.

“No Eth, she’s just watching you. She’s sitting on her eggs,” you said, as he looked to see the eggs sticking out underneath the goose.

“Well, I think we should get out of here. She’s still making me nervous,” he said, walking in the opposite direction towards a cute little gazebo surrounded by flowers.

Once you sat down on one of the benches inside, he pulled out his list, turning away from you to scribble something on it. You curiously tried to peak around him.

“Hey, no looking,” he said. You rolled your eyes as he slid the list back in his pocket.

“What did you write?” you asked, grabbing for his pocket.

“It’s a secret. But I want to talk to you about something,” he said, looking down at his lap.

“What’s up?” you asked, looking over his nervous expression.

“I’m really going to miss you,” he said, looking up at you.

“I’m going to miss you too,” your soft tone laced with sadness.

“Do you remember what happened here when we were thirteen?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

You thought back to the memory of you wanting to experience your first kiss, because you wanted to get it over with.

“Yeah, I remember. You gave me a pity kiss,” you laughed.

“Pity kiss?” he asked, a questioning look on his face.

“Yeah, because I hadn’t had one yet, and you did. You felt bad for me,” you said as he started to turn red.

“I, uh, might’ve lied about having my first kiss before then,” he said, looking around at the flowers surrounding you.

“You lied to me?” you asked, “I thought I was such a loser because I hadn’t kissed anyone.”

“I thought you knew I was full of shit when I closed my eyes, leaned in, and kissed your nose on accident,” he laughed, looking down towards his feet.

“I thought you were just nervous because you didn't want kiss your best friend,” you said.

“I was nervous, but not because I didn’t want to kiss you,” he said, reaching into his pocket to grab the list.

He handed the piece of paper to you, and your eyes went wide when you saw what he wrote.

“You want to recreate our first kiss?” you asked, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Yeah, but I wanted to tell you how I felt first,” he said, “I’ve had feelings for you since that day.”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same, but he’s your best friend. Your best friend that’s going to be in a different state in two days.

He recognized your facial expression; the same one you make when you’re deep in thought.

“Um, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry,” he said, trying to take the list back from you.

“No, wait. Eth, I feel the same. But how could we make something work?” you asked. “Do you want us to be more than friends? Is that worth the risk of us losing each other if we break up?”

Tears were starting to well up. You felt so anxious, but you knew he was perfect for you.

“I think it’d be awful if two people want to be with each other and don’t…You know you mean the world to me, and that won’t change regardless of if we’re together or not,” he said, looking over to you.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes, the sun starting to set in front of you.

“I’m willing to try this if you are,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Really?” he asked, a huge grin on his face.

“Yeah, but I really think we should finish this list,” you said, leaning your mouth up towards his.

He leaned down to connect your lips, as his hand went to your cheek. His mouth moved with yours as you sat there kissing, only pulling away for short breaks to breathe.

When you finally stopped, you both started laughing. You’d noticed that the sun had completely set, and the only light was the soft glow of dusk.

“I think we should get out of here,” he said, standing up.

He laced his fingers with yours as you walked back to the car.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream

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kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit · 4 months ago

Note

Hii! Can i req lizzie hearts x fem!reader meeting her mother for the first time? :))

Hi hi! Happy to get request made

Love lizzie so I'm happy to write for her!

I hope you like what I've come up with and thanks for the prompt! Makes it easier for me to see where the story should go

_________________________________________

Promt: the reader and Lizzie go to wonderland so that she can be introduced to Lizzies mom

She/her pronouns for the reader

Will be using [Name] as substitute for (y/n)

Fluff/nervous and tense (since she's meeting lizzie's mom)

Nickname for the reader- My Rose

Art not mine found on pinterest

____________________________________________

Lizzie Hearts is shown walking through the hallway alongside her is [Name] her girlfriend,who holds Lizzie's waist with her left arm, the two walk in sync.

We see [Name]'s face that seems very stressed out but she's trying to hide it as Lizzie chatted away happily "oh I just can't wait till you meet my mother today I just know she'll love you, well it's gonna take a while but sue will I'm sure of it" she snuggles onto [Name]'s shoulder giving her a reassuring smile

"Haha yeah...I really do hope so" she rested her head as the two walked past a group, [Name] recognized one and lifted her hand waving at them "do you want to try that new dress I made for you Rosette?" [Name] lifted her head looking down at Lizzie nodding her head in enthusiasm "oh yes please especially if we're matching" lizzie nods in agreement "love matching with you rosette" she got on her tiny toes and gave [Name] a kiss on her cheek

The two enter Lizzie's room and she quickly gets to work getting both their outfits from her closet as [Name] sits on the chair under her girlfriend's sewing table, she crosses her leg on the other waiting patiently with a soft smile waiting for Lizzie to emerge from her closet.

Lizzie who is still looking through her endless mountain of outfits grumbles "blasted things where is it'' she mumbles under her breath this makes [Name] giggles at her girlfriends little banter with the outfits she just can't pinpoint where they are "Ah! Here they are'' she twirls around with two dresses, lizzie goes up to [Name] and hands her the dress

They were mainly the signature colors that lizzie wore reds, blacks and golds but she added one more color by the colard of the dress was [Name]'s signature color, (f/c) it was a small part but even if it didn't entirely fit Lizzie's colors,she felt a fuzzy feeling that she considered and actually added it to her beautiful sewing. "Oh my!Liz you're the sweetest i love it!' [Name] ran up to Lizzie hugging her tight then picking Lizzie up twirling her around "Hahaha i'm happy to know you love it!" She giggles into her girlfriends chest

[Name] places her down taking the dress from Lizzie's hands "anything you make me I'll always be happy with" she leans down and places a gentle kiss on Lizzie's cheek leaving a kiss mark on it, she steps back "I'll change in the bathroom I'll be back, tell me if you need help with your corset and possibly help me too hehe" Lizzie nods her head giggling "okay thank you Rosette and I'll definitely hold you up on that offer~" [Name] gives a wink and walks to the bathroom with a hot face.

After several minutes [Name] comes out from the bathroom wearing the knee length dress "Hey Liz, I actually got mine on easier than usual. Did you change the design of the corset?" She tilted her head at Lizzie "yes I did, I didn't want you to be frustrated like last time-don't get me wrong I love your cute pout when you get angry or frustrated but I figured I'd change it to something more simpler" she turns around showing her's "I did it for mine as well so we'd match more" Lizzie turns back to face [Name] smiling

[Name] smiled back stepping closer she takes Lizzie's hand and walks up the the tall mirror, the two stood in front of it as they look contently at their matching dresses, lizzie had made two knee length red & black checker print with a small train at the back that covered the butt, with white lace ruffles on the inside looking out, a heart shape backless at the back that was covered somewhat with a sheer white mesh.

[Name] those a pose for fun and Lizzie follows along with her own, the two make a few more poses for fun giggling while doing so "looking good Liz~" [Name] looks at her in the mirror smirking "not as good as you rosette~" Lizzie wraps her arms around [Name]'s waist snuggling into her bosom " so squishy" making the (h/c) girl laugh

[Name] placed her hand on top of lizzie head and petted her hair gently "hmmm alright Liz as much as I love you snuggling into me,we should get going even if I'm a little nervous to meet your mom" [Name] confessed as she grabbed onto Lizzie with her left arm, squeezing her hip to ground herself from the the dreaded thought of "what if'

What if her mom didn't think she was good enough for Lizzie or what if she would make them break up because [Name]'s fairytale was a more lower status than her girlfriend what if-

"Hey! Snap out of it [Name]" Lizzie shook her girlfriend minutes after she had witnessed her stop all movements staying quiet as she silently contemplated every single thing she had to do right.

So Lizzie knew [Name] would over think any situation,especially meeting someone new, and since this was her mother [Name] was gonna meet she guessed this would happen. Lizzie grabbed [Name]'s hand and placed it on her soft fair cheek "it'll be alright rosette,she'll love you I just know it" Lizzie looked at her girlfriend with reassuring eyes and a squeeze on her hand

[Name] gives her a small smile and nod "your right i-i'm sorry I was over thinking even though I shouldn't, everything will be fine" she took a deep breath in and out "all fine"

___________. ____________

Lizzie and [Name] walk through the thick woods, sounds of the woodland creatures are heard from all directions. As the couple strutted on top the soft wet grass hand in hand they soon found themselves in front of a well. "Ready?" Lizzie asked "I think so" [Name] smiled sheepishly,

Lizzie went in first having her legs inside sitting,then takes her girlfriends hand and have her sit next to her both their legs inside and then with a push the two fall down down down the well

"Oof-" [Name] mutters as she lands on her butt and Lizzie lands perfectly "why did you land so elegantly?" Lizzie turns to her with a smug look "Natural talent,rosette" she says as she flips her hair " okay" [Name] says rolling her eyes as she gets up and dust herself off, Lizzie walks in front of her and mirrors her movements gently wiping off [Name]'s dress from the remaining dust.

"Thanks love" she gives Lizzie a kiss on the cheek, then grabs her hand "now lead the way love" and Lizzie does so

The two walk along a twisty path and they continue on through another forest but more wild than the one before "uhhh are you sure this is safe?" Lizzie nods "yup don't worry it's just a small part we have to go through just up ahead is the exit"

"Phew glad we got out of there love, I was getting chills!" [Name] exclaimed, rubbing her arms for emphasis, "oh come on it wasn't that bad" [Name] gave her a look "I mean- yes me too rosette!" Lizzie sighed once her girlfriend stopped and looked at their surroundings in awe "quite pretty isn't?" The (h/c)nette nodded and said "very in it's own crazy way..kinda like you"

"What do you mean?" Lizzie asked with a hint of curiosity "well your very pretty but there's this essences to you that's just so you..like a specific smell or sound that no one else can replicate cause it already is it's own thing, you are YOU but unlike anyone I've met and wonderland is something on it's own that can't be change just accepted with it's uniqueness and quirks" Lizzie stared starstruck at her girlfriends sudden poetic rant;her heart fluttering violently as if it was the first day they had held hands and shared a soft kiss on the cheek.

Lizzie hit her girlfriend's arm "Hey! What's that for?!" She didn't reply, just stood there with her cheeks red for a moment,then slamming her body into [Name], hiding her flustered face in the crock of the girl's neck which was hard since Lizzie had to get up on her tippy toes to do so.

"Hmpp" lizzie huffed making the (h/c)nette giggle "come on love we have to get there before the sun sets as much as i'd like to delay i don't wanna get lost in the dark" [Name] grabs shoulder and parts her away from her body making the stubborn princess groan in discontent but she eases and nods her head "your right rosette, let's go" she grabs her girlfriends hand and they continue their journey to the red queen's castle

____________________________________

Arriving at the gates of the castle they are let in by the guards quickly, Lizzie holds [Name]'s hand and squeezes it as they get to the queen's throne room

"Lizze there you are ,finally you have arrived and with your girlfriend you told me so much about it!" She's rather loud but it was to be expected, [Name] bows out of respect "it's a true honor to be meeting your majesty" you stay in that position "rise my child!" You do and take once again Lizzie's hand, the queen stands up from her throne walking down to meet the two, the queen looks at the two of you with a poker face expression then turns to lizzie ``do you truly love her?" Lizzie confidentiality says 'yes'

"Does she treat you right?" Lizzie replies "yes she does,even when I can be too much" the queen hums "does she treat YOU right?" She turns to you "yes she does,always looking out for me and if alright at any given time" you smile knowing it's true.

"Well then" the queen steps closer to the two of you "Welcome to the family!" She hugs you tightly, laughing happily that her daughter had found the right person to not only love but possibly rule with her only daughter. She would be fine with it since now that she saw you and spoke to you, she knew you were worthy of her daughter and her respect for your honesty.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" The queen asked "will you be staying forever?!" The white rabbit shouted, [Name] laughed as her girlfriends face became bright red "Hahaha yeah I'm definitely staying!" She holds Lizzie by the waist and kisses her temple, the queen squeals "Oh we need a photo of the two of you- Scratch that portrait!" She runs to get the painter Wait Mother no, not now we just got here! AND I'M HUNGRY'' she shouts but it goes to deaf ears

"Love we could just sneak into the kitchen real quick and get you some tarts'' Lizzie lights up "oh right! I can't believe you remember, there are always tarts in the kitchen-Come on let's go before she comes back!!" she grabs your hand and makes a run for it, the two giggling as you make your way there.

Guess your worries were for not, thank goodness.

___________________________________________

Hope you like this one! I really liked making this one and hope you don't mind Lizzie is shorter than [Name] I just thought small angry gf x tall calm gf

I feel like the queen may be ooc but idk I like what I did for her questions for the couple

#ever after high x reader #ever after high #ever after high fanfic #ever after high imagine #fem x fem #x female y/n #x female reader #x reader fanfiction #fanfiction #character x reader #request box #character x you

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tai-janai · 8 months ago

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ok continuation of the protector au

most of the voices can no longer see any good in the princess, because the Protector (reminder that he's the Hero) already planted in our brain that she truly cannot be trusted.

The princess, whether you take the blade or not, does plan to end the world.

"The world put me down here. If you help me out, you will be spared when I do end it."

and your choice comes there.

The Voices all keep the same core aspects, but have different goals or motivations. The Arms represent the ways the Princess has left her effect on You. With almost all of them, instead of sending the vessel to the shifting mound like they usually do, they completely want to kill her.

The Paranoid becomes Repulsed by what the Princess becomes, afraid in a way he wasn't in the source material. He is more willing to attack her, but less confident in it. The Protector has to encourage him to help the body kill her.

The Cold becomes the Aloof, one of the least trusting of the Narrator because he still doesn't like the "reward" they are given, but the Protector doesn't hate that we ended ourself, so he is less standoffish towards the others because he isnt judged for how he feels. After all, it is a defense mechanism, and the Protector can recognize that.

The Stubborn becomes Enraged because the princess defeated him along with her. (She still says 'this was fun' but in a much more sinister way) He wants to kill her, but he plants the thought in our head that she can only be defeated if we die. His doubt affects reality. the Protector initially supports his enthusiasm, but becomes hopeless when he realizes that it is all in vain.

The Opportunist becomes the Plotting; cruel and twisted. He takes the Protector's words and twists them how he sees fit, wanting the princess to suffer as much as possible by befriending her before backstabbing her. The Protector is kind of afraid of this one. He may want the princess dead, but he doesn't wish harm upon anyone.

The Contrarian becomes the Errant, and wishes for something different. You know its fucked up when the Contrarian equivalent becomes the voice of reason. Unfortunately, the Protector isn't a big fan of this option until the Errant does show up and shows a way out that seems the most safe.

Unfortunately for the Skeptic, nobody here is willing to give him any answers. The Narrator has his Rules and the Protector knows what happens when the Long Quiet becomes aware of the situation. Most voices accept this, but the Skeptic becomes Vexed. He actually becomes similar to the Cheated, where he believes he deserves what everyone else has, but has no way of getting it.

The Broken doesn't change much. he will still fawn over the princess, believing her to be much more powerful than anything, and completely inevitable. He just doesn't want to be a part of it once it is gone; but that isn't an option for the princess. she needs the long quiet to reach her full potential. She wont show "mercy" to the Dismal.

The Smitten becomes fully blind to the Princess' blaring red flags, committing himself to her fully as long as she shows any sort of returned affections. In the Damsel route, i think id have an end where you ask her too many questions, and she attacks you, but the Hapless is blind to her danger, and lets her. She is only getting close enough so that you let her use you to enact her plans.

The Hunted becomes less of prey than he had been, enacting purely on instinct so that she cannot win against him continuously. From hunted to Ferine, he will keep the body moving and standing. The Protector is also kind of afraid of him and his determination. I think, in this Beast route, there would actually be a branch where you can defeat her.

Last but not least, the Cheated becoming the Steadfast. He becomes the closest to the original Hero, urging us to improve ourself, though his extent is unhealthy. Like before, he just wants one of the worlds to be safe. At some point, he has to beat the princess. The Protector tells him that they're doing more harm than good... but it isn't a win, so it isnt enough. Not until the Protector cuts them all off.

#stp #stp au #Protector AU #stp voices #the voices #Fell the Princess

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bighairyballsharry · 4 months ago

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"A downpayment for your love" - Rafayel x Reader

Here you can keep track with this fanfic: Part 1

You were in front of a huge door. You were one odd duckling in a pristine neighbourhood that smelled like money. You tried your best not to gawk and stare at everything around you. With the money you gained over the week from taking care of Josephine you managed to buy a new set of clothes for today. It wasn't much, but for you it was the first time buying new clothes, you were proud of finally leading the 'good' life you always dreamt of, even if it was just the beginning. At least you hoped this was the start line to all your hopes and dreams.

You pressed the intercome and fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You were wearing a buttoned up shirt with ruffles and a pencil black skirt. You took your inspiration from all these TV shows you would watch. You wanted to make a good first impression on your new customer. Thomas seemed very refined, so you were expecting his dad to be more spectacular than his son.

"(Y/N)?" Thomas spoke over tye intercome.

"Yes, I'm here!" You said eagerly. You were trying really hard to contain your excitement.

The door clicked with a buzz. You pushed it open and walked inside. The entrance hall was absolutely mesmerizing, but you weren't able to have a proper look before Thomas came your way.

"Good morning, I'm very grateful for your service today." He started, looking somewhat uncomfortable. You smiled and before you could say anything to reassure him he started talking again. "This is a very... peculiar situation. All I can do is ask for you to be understanding." He said, his eyebrows knitted together. It looked like Thomas was trying hard to find his his words.

"Of course, I promise to do my best." You said. You felt bad for him, of course he was in distress. His dear old father was losing it, it must be tearing him apart! You smiled warmly, hoping it would be enough to reassure him.

"Alright, follow me." Thomas sighed. "I'm not sure if you keep up with modern art, but even if you did not, he might still be easy to recognize." He started to walk, with you following close behind.

Your breath hitched in your throat. His dad was a famous artist? Your mind started wandering, trying to think of some old famous artists, but nothing came to mind. Either way, you were starting to get even more excited. Your friends back home would not believe their ears. Maybe you could take some mementos if Thomas would be alright with you asking for his father's autograph.

You followed Thomas into a huge living room. There were huge windows, as big as the wall. The floor was made out of hardwood, nicely shining in the sunlight. There were lots of plants, somewhere in the center, by the windows, was an orange leather couch with blue and white pillows. Books and canvas were scattered around the place, but even so, the room looked chaotically elegant and beautiful. On one end of the room were 2 tall book shelves on either side of a maroon door, while on the other end of the room was a huge fireplace. You tried your best not to stare with your mouth wide open. You were inside of a real rich household.

"Oh, he started a new project." Thomas muttered absent minded looking at a huge canvas that was supported against a wall covered in pictures of random marine life creatures and paint stains. "Rafayel?" He called out, his voice loud. He looked at you, flashed you a quick smile and then looked around the room, his face twisting in annoyance.

You were fidgeting, not knowing what to do exactly. You looked around the room and tried to remain composed. Your enthusiasm is starting to turn into anxiety. You tried to think again about which old artist could his father be. Your mind wandered off to a young man you once saw in a commercial. His name was Rafayel as well, he was promoting a collaboration between him and an Art Museum. You didn't have the time to take such deep interest in art, but he was a very handsome man so you took interest in his persona. You smiled and shook your head.

"Why must you always bother me?" A smooth voice could be heard. The voice sounded more like a young person, not an old man. Did Thomas call for someone else and not his dad?

"I told you this will happen if you go crazy one more time." Thomas said once more. "I asked you-.. No, I begged you to finish on time, yet you decided to just go and start a new project after setting on fire the other in progress work you had." He continued, his tone now scolding as he approached the huge canvas and picked it up. "What's worse is that you set the painting someone already BOUGHT on fire because the poor woman said that maybe a different shade of red would've looked better!" Thomas was now booming as he put the canvas down and slapped his hands hard on his sides.

A white sparkly curtain hanged over an entrance that connected the living room to another room. The curtain got pushed aside as a young man waltzed in looking proud. "Well, maybe my fire's shade of red was more to her taste." He hummed, his right elbow leaning on his left wrist, tapping a finger to his curled up lips.

Your eyes widened as your lips parted slightly. It was the Rafayel from TV! You couldn't believe your eyes. You were so excited, you thought your heart was gonna leap out of your chest.

"So, who's this?" Rafayel asked, eyeing you up and down. He turned to face Thomas quickly, seemingly getting bored by you quite fast.

"I told you before, I was not joking." Thomas groaned and dragged one palm down his face, exasperated. "I got you a babysitter."

You turned surprised at Thomas, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. From his description and the discussion he had with Josephine's granddaughter you got the idea that you were going to take care of an old man that was starting to lose it. You looked at Rafayel and then at Thomas again. This had to be a mistake or at least a very strange prank pulled on you. You wanted to say something, but didn't know what.

"I don't want this one, she looks tacky." Rafayel scoffed and turned on his heels to walk back into the room he came from.

You opened your mouth in shock. "The fu-.."

Thomas rushed to his side and grabbed his wrist. "Rafayel!" He spoke up loud. The two men were now face to face, tension between them.

The slight anger that arised in you was rapidly exchanged with worry. It seemed like they could get physical at any moment now. You took a step towards them, but stopped as soon as Thomas started to talk again.

"I don't doubt your genius as an artist. I know no one can match you." He said, his eyes boring holes into Rafayel. "But your temper started to go off, you get easily bored and put yourself in dangerous situations. I worry about you." His voice continued, earnest. "I can't both chase after you and manage your career. It's a weekend thing, please give it a try." The anger dissipated from his voice, Thomas now was begging Rafayel.

Rafayel looked at you again, making direct eye contact with you. The action made you get flustered. He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed. "Does it really have to be this person? The clothes on this one are a hate crime to my eyes." He said, making you go pale.

Thomas clicked his tongue and sighed. "Your bodyguard recommended (Y/N)." Hearing this, Rafayel's eyes sparkled a bit. He looked at you again, you felt yourself sick to your stomach as his eyes roamed over you.

"She has questionable taste... but if she suggested this one, then I can consider it." Rafayel said, smirking as he looked at you. You felt so humiliated, you didn't know how to react.

Thomas on the other hand looked relieved. "Thank you." He sighed and let go of Rafayel's wrist. Rafayel shrugged and left the living room. Thomas made his way to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "(Y/N), please excuse him, he is going through... a phase." He said, looking worried at you.

You just looked at him, feeling way too depressed to say anything. "Thomas, I..." You started, finding it hard to find your words. You cannot work for someone like that.

"I will pay you enough to compensate for his behaviour." Thomas hurriedly pulled out a check book and started writing down on it.

"I don't think it's about money..." You started as your eyes followed his pen. The amount he wrote on the check was way more than anything you ever made, it was 3 weeks worth your rate of service in your village! You stopped and blinked as he ripped it out of the check book and held the check out to you.

"Hope this will be good enough." You stared at him and then at the paper. Thomas looked at you and then took it back, adding another 0. Your eyes could pop out of your eyesocket at how wide they were open. "This should cover the 2 days spend looking after Rafayel."

You looked at him blinked and shook your head. You thought you didn't hear him right. "T-Two days?" You asked, clearly in shock.

Thomas thought you weren't pleased with his offer. He shook his head and grinned. "Fine, a tough bargain, but it's only fair after interracting with him. This amount should be your daily payment. Is this better?" Thomas asked hopeful as he extended the check towards you again.

You stared for a while. "Y-Yes, of course... What?" You nod your head as you finally accepted the check.

"Thank you, you have no idea the favour you are doing me." Thomas started to smile, his shoulders relaxing.

Your eyes were glued on the check. You could not believe it. It felt like you have won the lottery.

#love and deepspacs imagine #love and deepspace #lads rp #lads rafayel #lads fanfic #lnds rp #lnds rafayel #lnds

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jessamine-rose · 2 years ago

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༻ The Golden Ratio ༺

Another deleted scene from Chemistry which I just had to recycle. May you all enjoy this fluffy, non-yandere take on Dottore and the science of love (≡^∇^≡)

♡ 0.9k words under the cut ♡

“Zandik, look over here! Aren’t these specimens remarkable?”

“Yes, they are,” he replies dismissively.

You frown, turning away the patch of Rukkhashava Mushrooms. Your classmate is still tinkering with the Ruin Guard, completely absorbed in his research.

“Liar. You didn’t even look at it.”

He doesn’t even try to deny it. “Can’t you see that I’m busy? If you allow me to finish my research, I can promise my full attention later.”

“But that’s what you said with the last sample,” you point out. “Is it too much to stop and admire the scenery for a few minutes? You are utterly rigid.”

Though you wouldn’t have fallen for him otherwise.

Zandik gives you an unamused look. “And you are too carefree, though I may recognize such childlike curiosity as befitting of your Darshan.”

You give him a bright smile. “Thank you for the acknowledgement!”

Was that a compliment or an insult? Either way, Zandik has been observing you!

As of now, your research expeditions have yielded little progress in your relationship. Your crush remains distant, focused on his work, at odds with your research approach. Still, you are thankful for the opportunity to witness him in action. To spend time with him.

Your own research is sufficient. You sit on the grass and watch Zandik, committing his visage to memory. After a few minutes, he breaks the silence.

“I am intrigued,” he says, “by your attitude to my research. The Sages always scold me whenever I express my fascination in these ancient machines.”

His research notes are neatly arranged beside his tools. The pages are marked with meticulous reports and detailed drawings. His enthusiasm practically bleeds into the paper.

You approach him, uncaring of your close proximity to the Ruin Guard.

“Well, I must disagree with them. No matter how dangerous those machines can be, they are still something to study. One might claim they are no different from my research specimens.”

“Ah, yes. Your little plants and animals,” he replies, glancing at your research notes. “And why do you research those subjects, may I ask?”

“Should there be an important reason?” you ask, adjusting your Amurta scarf. “It’s because they’re beautiful. Simple as that.”

Beautiful, mysterious, vital to this world.

“I did not take you for the poetic type,” he muses. “Anything can be deemed beautiful from one’s subjective perspective.”

“That is true,” you agree, “like your interest in the Ruin Machines. But objectively speaking, there are mathematical theories which can explain our prevalent standards of beauty. The golden ratio, for instance.”

“Ah, yes. That old thing.” A confident smile appears on his face. “I’ve read a thesis about the golden ratio in relation to facial aesthetics. Apparently, I am a good example.”

“Not a surprise. Many people find you handsome.”

“And what about you?” Zandik resumes eye contact, scarlet eyes tinged with amusement. “Do you agree with that conclusion?”

Your cheeks flush. “W-Well…yes, since you claim that your face fits the golden ratio.”

“That is an inadequate basis for your answer.” He stands in front of you and caresses your cheek, preventing you from looking away. “Why don’t you personally test that hypothesis? I will do the same with your face.”

He’s so close.

“All…all right.” You stay still and focus on his face, making the mental measurements.

His facial proportions are more or less congruent with the golden ratio. There are some details which may serve as basis for a counterargument, however.

His bangs obstruct your complete analysis. You’ve always adored his messy hairstyle, those stray curls which complement his character. You know from previous interactions that his hair is soft to the touch.

There is also his boyish, sharp-toothed grin which is equal parts manic and mischievous. His calm, close-mouthed smile is more aesthetically pleasing, but it lacks his unabashed ardor. Nevertheless, you are captivated with both versions, especially when those smiles are directed at you.

His eyes. They are like red suns, always bright and intense. There is a fascinated gleam in his gaze whenever he comes across something new.

It is beautiful. All of him.

His voice is what brings you back to reality.

“I am done with my measurements,” he announces.

“I…I see.” You give him a nervous smile, acutely aware that he is still touching your face. You’re blushing; can he tell? “So am I. Why don’t you go first?”

“You are beautiful.”

What?

Zandik taps his fingers on your cheek, tracing lines on your face. He’s close—too close, your flustered expression trapped in his ruby eyes. His expression is serious yet neutral, as though he is merely studying a specimen.

“A…according to which theory?” you stutter. “The golden ratio?”

He smiles at you. “I am speaking from my own personal opinion. If the laws of nature say otherwise, I must disagree and prove them wrong.”

A specimen worthy of his full attention.

Words fail you. What can you possibly say after receiving such a compliment?

Ever the diligent scholar, Zandik lets go of you and returns to the Ruin Guard.

“That is all I have to say,” he says. He picks up a rusty cog and takes notes. “And what of your observation? Do you find me beautiful, ______?”

You remain in your spot. “...Yes, I do.”

His tone is smug. “Objectively or subjectively?”

Honestly, why did you fall for someone like him?

“I’m not sure,” you admit.

“I see.” Zandik gives you one last smile, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Let us continue this experiment later. I am not one to be satisfied with ambiguous results.”

♡

This was originally written for the second chapter of Chemistry, but it felt too “close” for Dottore and Assistant! Darling’s early relationship. So I just edited and moved it to the last few chapters. But I couldn’t waste the lovely thought of Dottore’s s/o falling for the parts of him which aren’t considered beautiful by the golden ratio, so here we are~

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoyed this deleted scene ft. college crush Dottore ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @gum-iie @sirbotik @surveyycorps @boundinparchment @ruayiri @darherwings @oofasleep @oh-no-i-am-here @nicebonescomrades @diaboliravioli @ryo-ri @unloadingdata @sodomewithlifern @maaarshieee @dottoreslittlelabrat @poweredbyghostadventures

#il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin x reader #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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